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59 Cards in this Set
- Front
- Back
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Did you just call this up? |
No. It's not even part of any of our programs. |
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What is it? |
Looks like a... |
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A what? |
A fetus. A human fetus. |
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If this is a joke, now would be a good time to let me in on it. |
If it's a joke, it ain't mine. Actually, it's pretty neat. Pretty far along. Eight, maybe nine months. |
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Dump it. |
Don't you want to find out where it's coming from? |
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Someone in the Comp Sci lab's having a little fun at our expense. |
Jacobi. |
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That bastard, this is just the kind of warped practical joke he'd pull. |
Look at the detail. Someone put a lot of work into this. |
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Just dump it and let's get on with our lives. |
... Damn. |
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What? |
I can't dump it. I got all the error-correcting codes running, I did all the debug routines this morning... |
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Then abort the program. Reset the system. |
*try & fail* |
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Here, let me look. ...Come on, dammit! ...Finally. Stubborn little bugger, wasn't it? |
Yeah, but where the hell did it come from? |
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Something that sophisticated has to leave tracks. If it was Jacobi, I'm going to nail him to the wall. Tomorrow. Tonight, I'm late for dinner. |
You know, doc, it almost seemed alive... |
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Probably was. Video of a real fetus, computer-enhanced. C'mon dan, don't get weird on me. G'night. |
*slow exit* |
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Daniel -- |
What the hell is that? Oh, this is great! This is fantastic! |
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Hi! |
Uh.... Hi. Tell me it's an artificial intelligence program. |
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No program can act that spontaneously. |
I know. Tell me anyway. |
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Okay. Someone could be... tapped into the computer. They could be manipulating the image by remote control, talking through her like a ventriloquist. |
Except for one thing. There are no video inputs for the computer! How the hell does she see us? ...Uh, Hi again. |
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Hi. |
Ah... My name's Daniel. And this is Dr. Drayton. What's your name? |
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Nola. |
Pretty name. Where do you live, Nola? |
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weschesser |
You mean... Westchester? In New York? |
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in a big green house cross the way from the sprained lake. |
...Grassy Sprain Lake? |
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Isn't this where I'm supposed to be? |
...You can take this one. |
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This has gotta be some kind of elaborate practical joke. Check out that house. Find out who's living there. Maybe we can get a clue about who's yanking our chain. |
You got it. |
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*beginning of scene 4* |
There *is* a family living in that house. And the wife's maiden name *was* Granville. They don't have a daughter named Nola... but she did recall a great aunt by that name. Kind of a black sheep. She and the family fell out of touch. |
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Does anyone know where this great aunt is? |
... She died. At least they think so, no one knew the exact date, and county records don't show a death certificate, either. She was born in... 1917. And that dress our... guest... is wearing? It dates from the Mid-1920s. |
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I've worked on this project for three years! I will not stand by and watch it turn into a New Age goon show, crystal power and dowsing rods! |
Yeah, but... |
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You have any idea what this'd do to our reputations? We might as well say we created cold fusion in a mayonnaise jar! |
But if we can find out who she is, why she's here -- |
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I don't want to know! I just want her to go away! |
Alright, this is really starting to piss me off. |
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Welcome to the club. |
I'm not talking about Nola. I mean you. Your attitude. I passed on a lot of job offers so I could work with you, Kevin Drayton, the visionary, the pioneer. And now... Dammit, this is the kind of thing I've dreamt about since... *song* |
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*end of song* |
Look. Do you suppose that somehow... In some way... a human *soul* has been *reincarnated* inside that computer? |
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Dan, I'm not even sure I believe in the human soul, much less in reincarnation! |
Why? Why is a soul less believable than any of a dozen subatomic particles? We can't prove they exist, either! |
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Yes, but that's different. We can posit their existence from the behavior of other, observable phenomena. |
Yeah? Well there's your *phenomena* in there, doc! Go observe. |
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You turn up anything more? |
School records, voter registration, but still no death certificate. How's it going here? |
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It's incredible. The older she gets, the more she remembers. As if she's existing on two different levels of consciousness, simultaneously. |
What do you mean? |
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One is a remembered past, the other is her real-time presence, here with us. No one could design a program this sophisticated. |
*sing* 1:45 in You Remember |
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It's down here. Watch yourself on the stairs. |
Yeah, at MIT. I'm doing a timeline for my friend Dave... Dave Granville... sound familiar? |
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Fraid not. |
I'm pretty sure he's descended from your aunt Nola, but... |
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Honey, we're rich! I found one of the dead sea scrolls! |
That sure looks like.... I mean, that was how.... Dave... was told she looked. Did your mother know anything about her parents? |
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Her father was a banker. Lost most of his fortune in the stock market crash. It didn't humble him any, he never stopped thinking of himself as better than everyone else. |
How did Nola adjust? |
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*blah blah. End of their song.* |
That was when the family lost contact with her? |
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Thirty five, thirty six. |
What do you think brought it about? |
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Goldman... Sure I remember him. My dad worked on the docks. He got into this tussle with a white guy -- the other guy started it, but Dad was the one the company fired. Goldman sued them... and won. He got my father his job back. |
I found Robert's death certificate in county records. He died in 52. But nothing on his wife - Nola. Do you know if she's still alive? |
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No, I don't. But I met her once. |
Really? |
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*song* |
I didn't think he had one. |
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I think her name was Ruskin? |
That's great. That helps me a lot. Thank you. Thank you very much. |
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Oh god! Make it stop, make it stop! |
Doc, what the hell? |
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*blah blah* |
... I didn't know she could do that. |
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Neither did I |
You look like hell, doc. How much sleep are you getting? |
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Enough. Couple of hours a night. I can't afford to squander my time with her. I've never felt so helpless in my life. And she's as confused by all this as we are. |
Is she? |
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What's that supposed to mean? |
We know she's controlling the computer -- ordering up the processes needed to simulate her image. |
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Autonomic functions. She's no more conscious of doing it than we are of the way our hearts pump blood. |
I don't know. She seemed awfully damn conscious of shutting down the system just now... |
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I can't explain that. But she's not here for any ill intent. My god, I've watched her grow up, I'd know if there were something wrong about her |
Would you? Look, doc, maybe this is out of line, but... you're not getting yourself... involved here, are you? |
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Involved? With a spirit? |
Some would say that's what we fall in love with, when we fall in love. A soul. A spirit. She's aging ten years for every day, doc. At this rate, she'll be... gone... in three or four days. What then? |
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*ruskin scene begins* *remember, this is as you walk* |
I appreciate you talking with me, Mister Ruskin. I'm afraid most of Robert and Nola's friends are... ah... |
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Most of them are dead? |
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound... tactless. |
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I've spent the last fifteen years in darkness, Mr Gaddis, and I've managed to enjoy life in spite of it. If it's darkness I have ahead of me, I think I can make the best of it. |
You knew Robert for how long? |
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Twenty years. He and Nola were such lovely people... he with his passion for social justice, Nola and her love of literature, and life... |
Did either of them leave behind any kind of.... unfinished business? Some goal, some dream they never fulfilled? |
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*her song* |
Excuse me, but -- exactly when *did* Nola die? |
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In... March, I believe. March of... 1944. She was only thirty-two. Such a waste. Such a terrible waste. |
...*HOW*... did she die? |
