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Sfx: SIlence in the diner except for the pulsating big, malevolent thing. From the parking lot we can hear the occasional zap of an arc welder.
Gloria:
I had a friend who went crazy one time. Me and my girlfriends we all made a deal that when we graduated from high school, we would get the hell out of Tucson. So we did. We all went to Phoenix, two and a half hours away but it felt like the other side of the world. I got a job at a, ooof, I got a job at a Jack in the Box. That was rough. But it was my new life in a new city, that was nice. Anyway, one friend of mine never made it out. Rosa. She just stayed with her parents, could never really pull the rip chord. She just got stuck. She was always a little weird. So, one day, years later, one of my girlfriends says “Hey, did you hear about Rosa? She moved to Needles?”I don’t know if you know anything about Needles but it’s a perfect blend of small town and abandoned train yard. One hundred and twenty degrees there in the summer. And there’s little tiny bugs crawling all over everything there. I don’t even know what they are, just these little black dots moving around on the surface of everything, no matter where you go. You ask someone about the bugs and they just say “Oh, yeah, happens sometimes.” That’s it.One weekend I drove up there to see her. I don’t know why, I just had to know what happened. She didn’t even have an address, she was living out of a camper van. Selling handmade souvenirs on the roadside. She would go into the desert and look for animal skulls, which there was a lot of, because it was 120 degrees and everything was dying. She’d take these sun bleached skulls and lay them out on a Navajo blanket across the street from a truck stop. She kind of made a killing, actually.We sat there outside her camper van and we drank a bottle of tequila as the sun went down. We were in our twenties at that point but she had been out in that sun so long she looked like she was fifty. Cracks everywhere on her face.I asked her “Rosa, what happened?! How’d you end up in fucking Needles selling skulls across from a truck stop?”“I was stuck, Gloria. I didn’t know what to do. So I thought I’d just do the craziest thing.”And here I am, lightyears from home, and my shitty stories from Arizona are still relatable.
Gloria:
We’ve been floating here for three days, Ava. You’ve been saying you’re sorry for three days.
Gloria:
Right, right, you keep saying that, “Effie told me to.” Can you think of a less reliable source of information than Effie and Zebulon? They thought they were sportscasters one time, remember that?
Gloria:
I don’t know, him and Caspar have some kind of plan, it’s probably stupid... That’s a significant parking lot for me. You convinced me to stay while we stood in that parking lot. Remember that?
Gloria:
We smoked a cigarette in 14 million BC, you showed me twenty foot tall mushrooms, and said “You should stay.”
Leif:
Your first question is going to be “Is this made from kitchen appliances?” The answers is “No, not entirely.”
Leif:
Um... you know how sometimes plans evolve and then you look back and think “Whoa, how did we get here?”
Leif:
There’s an explanation. Ava, we are not condemning you to The Phantom Zone, there’s a reason for this.
Leif:
We’re on the edge of this big, malevolent thing, right? The gravitational pull has got to be massive, but we’re staying still. Also, it’s giving off a repeating radio signal.
Caspar:
That’s funny, I don’t remember you consulting us on wether or not we’d like to be put in danger.
Caspar:
No, it’s the same thing, I’ve decided it’s the same thing. Isn’t that frustrating, when someone decides something important without asking you?
Leif:
Look, I’d be worried about it too if I didn’t build this rig myself. It’s very safe. I know it looks kind of like a trash monster but it’s got an air recycler, on-board guidance systems, it’s got its own thrusters.
Ava:
And what’s the plan for getting me back? Or are you all planning to sacrifice me to the great volcano in the sky?
Ava:
Fuck that. Look, I know everyone’s pissed at me and wants me to suffer somehow but that doesn’t mean you get to turn me into Voyager 2. Can we please all just stay calm and trust that a solution will come to us? There has to be one less ridiculous than this one.
Caspar:
Oh, don’t threaten me with a good time. You wanted to understand the mysteries of the cosmos, now’s your chance to do it first hand.
Caspar:
Sorry, Doctor, just you, some cans of cooking spray and the great beyond. Exactly how Carl Sagan imagined it. Leif?
Leif:
No. Though now that you mention it vegetable oil is an interesting choice for deep space combustion. Doesn’t have to be pressurized and it’s non-flammable.
Caspar:
You didn’t have to do anything. But now I have to do something. So I’m going to use this hand truck, wheel you to the edge of the parking lot, and jettison you into space. Leif says the suit will take over once you hit zero G.
Ava:
Fuck shit fuck shit. Lots of spinning. Okay the suit can take over any time now... any time now.
Ava:
Okay... okay there we go... okay... okay... Definitely less vomit-inducing... okay... okay... I can’t believe you assholes launched me into SPAAACE!... Goddamn it... Sue me for trying to figure some shit out!... I’m glad to be rid of you!... Honestly the peace and quiet is kind of nice.
Leif-Let:
Sorry, bro, I can’t help you with that one. It looks like you’re trying to navigate in zero-g, would you like some help with that?
Leif-Let:
You are near two celestial bodies. Midnight Burger is approximately eight thousand meters from your location. Would you like to go there?
Leif-Let:
Second celestial body is fifty-six thousand kilometers away. Filename: Big, Malevolent Thing.
Leif-Let:
Many of Boofar’s undamaged logic boards are now a part of my processor. If you like, you can call me “Steve”.
Ava:
I guess every great scientist has a moment when they’re cast out from society but like, this is over-doing it. How long to our destination again?
Ava:
Shit, Leif you’re not forgiven just because you loaded my favorite movie into this sardine can.
Ava:
No, no, no, you’re just going to fuck it up. It’s like this: “Funny business, a woman’s career. The things you drop on your way up the ladder so you can move faster. You forget you’ll need them again when you get back to being a woman.”
Leif-Let:
Estimates of our arrival time at the Big Malevolent Thing were off. In an effort to conserve oxygen, I took advantage of the fact that you had fallen asleep and brought down the solar visor.
Leif-Let:
Analyzing surroundings... Matter in this area is unstable. Not meant to be interacted with. We’re in a simulation.
Leif-Let:
Scanning... Looks like the radio is cycling through frequencies at a very high rate, like it’s looking for something.
Effie:
If you have had one too many unfortunate catfishing excursions as I have, you do not find yourself drawn to the story of Jonah.
Zebulon:
Yes, the catfish in the St. Francis do have a tendency to clamp down a bit hard don’t they?
Effie:
One time a flathead had bit down so hard upon me that I thought he’d never let go. I thought I’d have to spend the rest of my time on this earth with a fish-arm.
Zebulon:
But while the prospect of being trapped in the belly of a fish for many a day may give one the oogies, we must take care not to discard the story of Jonah. Jonah is there to remind us that The Lord’s paths are infinite, and should you refuse his call, as Jonah did, you have simply sent yourself down yet another of his chosen paths.
Effie:
Though it should be noted that refusing the first path sends you down the path with the fish guts in it. So, maybe listen to The Lord’s words the first time?
Effie:
I can tell you that it is a great human construct that hangs in the sky and becomes a crossroads for many peoples from distant lands as they make their way across God’s creation.
Caspar:
Listen, since you’re from Earth, I’ve got to warn you, if you’re not from Earth I’m great at cooking Earth food, but if you’re from Earth my cooking is terrible.
Leif:
Hey. Are you guys hiring? I’m a cook. I’m on a Truskan Ice Hauler right now and it’s kind of miserable. Truskans are great, but they love singing these like, sea chanties and Truskans don’t have complex breath control so they only sing one note. It’s driving me crazy.
Leif:
I do like moving around, so being stuck at a space station might not be that great, but it would be nice for my Earth references to not fall on deaf ears, so I’m good staying put for a while.
Ava:
Hey! I was watching that! I wanted them to do something embarrassing that I could use against them. For science.
Gloria:
Hey, Cesar. How are you holding up?... Oh, you did? Great, I’m glad. How much is it?... It’s that plus 600? Okay, great, that’s good, you guys can live on that right, Inez gets it too? Okay good... Whew, I was worried about you guys... No, I’ll be fine... Cesar, I’ll be fine... I’m not going over this again... It’s a little harder to file for unemployment when you owned the damn place... I don’t know what I’m going to do... I don’t know what I’m going to do Cesar. It was my dream to own that place. It’s all I ever wanted. We were open for six months and then it all gets shut down because of a, what? Because of a bat in China? I don’t even know how to talk about that... Look, I don’t know how long this bullshit is going to last, but when it’s finally over people are going to be like “Cool, let’s get back to normal, let’s do normal shit.” Normal for me is being a waitress who can’t forget the time she had a restaurant for six months. That’s normal for me. I don’t want to get back to normal, Cesar. I’m never going back again. Hug your kids for me, I’ve got a job interview... Yes, I do, I know what I just said, I’m just doing it to get out of town... I honestly don’t even know where I am... It’s called Midnight Diner or something, look go back to your life, hang out with your kids, you’re going to be sick of them in a month.
Ava:
This is feeling kind of random. What am I supposed to be learning here? If the next thing I see are Bob Cratchit and his family, I am also quitting then.
Ava:
This is my house. This is my house in Ithaca... Oh no, this is my farewell party. Oh, this is bad.
Ava:
(In the past.) Everyone! Can I get your attention for a moment please? Thank you so much for coming to my farewell party, though I am convinced that sixty to sixty-five percent of you are here to make sure you don’t miss out on any gossip. Sorry to disappoint, but I won’t be doing anything more embarrassing than actually being a professor at this shit-sack of a university.
Ava:
(In the past.) Today I officially transitioned into emeritus status, the flaming viking boat of academia. I did so under viscous rumors that I have lost my mind, which I shall wear as a badge of honor. I am proud to join the ranks of other nutty professors like Paracelsus, who believed in giants, Tycho Brahe who wore a copper prosthetic nose after losing his real one in a fist fight, and Pythagoras who had an inexplicable fear of beans.
Ava:
(In the past.) You only get one chance to make a parting statement, so here goes. As we struggle to understand the universe, we may need to consider the idea that the universe is struggling to understand us. That our curiosity about the cosmos, may be reciprocated. Do our telescopes pointed skyward pose a question, and are the ebbs and flows of the starways an attempt at an answer. Are the scientist and their subject like two lovers in the dark; stumbling towards each other, hoping to find some skin.
Willow:
A hurricane hits here every eighteen months, all the hospitals have generators. Probably all the houses too.
Daniel:
And I confirmed that because I needed to, okay? It’s not hurricane season, they’re not expecting us to knock their power out.
Willow:
It’ll just be for a few minutes, they’ll be okay. How many times do we need to go over this?
Willow:
I’m going to miss this cheap ass weed when we’re gone, we should enjoy it while we can. Puerto Rico. Who knew?
Willow:
I don’t buy it. They said that about 8 Tracks, look what happened. Besides, they sound like shit, and as people who listen for a living we should be more discerning, don’t you think?
Willow:
Not for scientists like us. They need aerospace nerds not astrophysicists. Besides, they would be defense contracts and how do we feel about defense contracts?
Daniel:
What do you think your Mamaw would say about blacking out an entire town for 15 minutes to shoot a radio signal into the sky?
Willow:
I think she would say “Willow, you can do anything you want and your Papaw and I are still going to love you.” And then she would add, “Unless you become a papist.” Besides, you’re forgetting that she and my Paw did a revival radio show for years without any approval from the FCC or whatever they called it back then.
Daniel:
I mean, technically I was right. A byzantine, indecipherable signal sent to a star cluster seven Parsecs away, it’s not science.
Willow:
I have to say, I’ve been impressed with the way you just jumped into this little scheme of ours. You’re usually the cautious one.
Leif-Let:
I’ve identified the signal. This is known as the Arecibo Message, broadcast from the Arecibo radio telescope in Puerto Rico in 1974.
Daniel:
We’re currently conducting scientific research and need this frequency clear, please. Can you identify yourself?
Daniel:
Jesus. This is the Arecibo observatory in Puerto Rico, we’re sending a test broadcast and you’re on our frequency, can you identify yourself please?
Ava:
Yes, the whole damn thing fell into the jungle. The cables snapped, something about metal fatigue, I guess.
Daniel:
I’m Daniel, I’m here with my wife Willow, we work at the observatory, we’re astronomers. Can you please, for the love of God, identify yourself?
Ava:
Oh! I’m professor emeritus of theoretical physics at Cornell University, that works. Wait. No I’m not. I will be professor emeritus at Cornell, I guess to you I’m a one year-old with a terrible mother.
Ava:
This the thing the tinfoil hat people talk about? We sent some sort of message of peace into space?
Daniel:
Yes, directed at M13. After we sent the message we were getting back noise. Or at least everyone else thought it was noise. We thought it had structure. Willow?
Willow:
It was mostly symbols that I couldn’t recognize but from time to time would be the letters A,V,A. I think.
Ava:
Okay, so the data was cut off. It wasn’t getting input. It had to start riffing, grabbing any transmission it could so things got chaotic.
Daniel:
Then after 367 days we got something kind of like a ping. It was one burst of just... noise.
Willow:
So we decided to get creative. We’re using everything we’ve got to send one last broadcast of the message in the hopes that we can reacquire the signal.
Ava:
They’re written in Groote. It’s a 19th century Dutch shorthand. Google it. Fuck! You can’t. The past sucks! Look it up somehow.
Ava:
No, you’re thinking about it wrong. It’s not about the strength of the signal it’s about the number of iterations in space/time that you’re broadcasting it. Think of it like triangulating a location. The longer you send the signal the more data you’ll get from us and vice versa.
Ava:
Something heard it. Something heard it, but it doesn’t understand you. It’s trying to. Goddamn... like two lovers in the dark; stumbling towards each other, hoping for skin. You have to keep broadcasting.
Ava:
You’re going to need funding. Nobody’s going to be crazy enough to fund this. Shit. Oh! It’s 1976?
Ava:
Ha! Take all the money you have and invest in Apple Computers. Trust me, you’ll never have to write a grant again.
Ava:
TRUST ME. Willow, I know your grandparents. Kind of. They would want you to have faith. Oh shit. Oh shit, something’s happening. Remember everything I’ve said. Read my notes! Don’t stop the signal!
Ava:
I may not know what exactly I figured out but I know I figured something out. Because I am NOT crazy. I am Pythagoras, MOTHERFUCKER!
Leif-Let:
I have sensor lock on Midnight Burger, but it’s very far, we have limited thrust, and very little oxygen.
Leif-Let:
I’m going to have to put you to sleep again, Boss. It’s the only way to conserve oxygen. We put you to sleep, do one last burn toward the diner, and hope for the best.
Ava:
The benefit of this plan is, if I die, Caspar will be miserable for the rest of his life. That piece of shit can’t live without me.
Sfx: thrusters fire. Ava sails off into the darkness. Leif and Gloria’s conversation slowly fades in.
Leif:
No, it looks like the suit put her in stasis. It’s slowly adjusting the oxygen levels back to normal. It’ll open when it’s ready.
Ava:
You guys. I figured it out. I mean kind of. Some of it, anyway. I couldn’t figure it out because... because it’s like trying to recognize if someone’s lying to you when you’re lying to them at the same time. When you’re going too fast on the freeway, and so is everyone else, it’s harder to know that you’re speeding.
Ava:
Shh. Just let me get this out. I’ve been trying to figure it out, but it’s been trying to figure us out at the same time.
Ava:
No, no, not the diner. Something else. This is where it tries to reach out, where it tries to get to know us. It was right in front of my face. If you want to get to know someone, you find a place that’s safe. Where maybe you can have a cup of coffee and get to know each other. But here’s the problem: what if you’re a human and want to get to know an ant? You don’t know what it’s like to be an ant, you can’t “speak ant” even though you’re hundreds of thousands of times more intelligent than an ant. So what do you do?
Ava:
You try a lot of things, mostly you stay out of the way and watch. Sometimes you’ll make sure nothing happens to your new friend. And if you get worried that your new friend is alone and afraid... you make it friends.
Ava:
But you don’t know how to make a friend. You don’t even know what “friend” means. So you reach out for whatever you’ve got. You hear stories told by an astronomer about her grandparents, and how they were people that made her feel safe. And in your ham-fisted way try and make them.
Ava:
No. Because you’re not an ant, you’re a person, and you’re so smart that you’re an idiot. And without meaning to, you make a person. Two people.
Zebulon:
We bore witness along with you, Ava. We feel both confused and yet, somehow, a fog has lifted.