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RECORDED VOICE by Michael Boccieri
Music fades in, the opening to a nightly-news program. News Intro Voice: This is GSN News at eleven; with Linda Asami, Charles Becker, and Mr. Q with sports. And now, your GSN news team… Intro music fades out. Linda Asami: Good evening I’m Linda Asami. Charles Becker: And I’m Charles Becker. Linda Asami: Tonight’s top story… the death toll continues to rise as six more people were found dead this evening by police; six more victims in what continues to be this city’s largest chemical disaster in history. Another five thousand gallons of sludge-like Plydac-12 remain to be cleaned away from the site of last week’s disaster, when a two hundred thousand-gallon aerial tanker crashed en-route to its unloading dock at PlyCorp Chemical. The PlyCorp tanker suffered a rudder malfunction upon approach, and slammed headlong into the neighboring residential area adjacent to the PlyCorp plant, spilling its liquid contents across a four-mile radius. A highly corrosive and volatile astringent used to clean fusion cores, the Plydac-12 ignited upon impact, turning the cleanser to sludge and releasing corrosive gas into the air. Over sixty people were killed by the impact, but this is nothing compared to the hundreds dead or dying from the toxic gases emitted from the crash. Over seven hundred cases of poisoning have already been reported, with more coming in every day. Doctor Steve: Our hospitals are being packed daily by more and more victims of the Plydac disaster… anyone within ten miles of the plant is probably already infected. Linda Asami: And with no visible cure in sight to counter the poison gas, the death toll looks like it will only increase until the heavy chemical fumes dissipate. PlyCorp Chemical, though responsible for the current clean-up operation, is still refusing to publicly address any questions regarding the accident. Chuck? Charles Becker: Thanks Linda. In other news today the Pope said he would not condone the use of virtual sex as a viable form of pre-marital intercourse… The newscast fades out into oblivion. Silence. Then a digital beep from a recording device. Electronic Voice: Recording. Fillip Pike: I don’t know if I’m losing my sanity or not… but I’ve decided to make this recording to get stuff straight in my head, to get to the source of my paranoia. My wife disappeared over a month ago. I can’t say for sure, but my hunch is her disappearance is connected to the death of her father, Dr. Richard Thompson. He worked for PlyCorp R&D for nine years before the "accident"... at least that’s what PlyCorp Security and the police who have been anywhere near the so called "investigation" have been calling it. Aeria claims her father made objections – ethical objections – against PlyCorp execs and their latest corporate goals. Just before she disappeared Aeria gave me an interesting anniversary present: a ring… platinum shell, silicon core… DES logo engraved neatly on the inside with a model number. I guess it was her father’s. Now it’s mine, and I’m starting to feel that it’s gonna bring me about as much good luck as it brought him. (The sound of a doorbell ringing.) Oh shit! Fillip Pike breathes heavily. After a pause, we hear the sound of knocking on the door. The knocking turns to banging, and then the sound of the door being broken down. We hear the sound of footsteps running through the downstairs. We hear the unintelligible words of communication, then a moment later… Rahul, the Evil Henchman: He’s not down here. Jenner: I’m checking upstairs. We hear the sound of footsteps running up the stairs. The sound of fumbling for the "off" switch. The beep of the recorder shutting off. Electronic Voice: Saturday, 9:23 PM Silence. Then another digital beep from the recording device. Electronic Voice: Recording. Heavy breathing, the sound of drain pipe trickling, and hydraulic machines… giving the effect of a loading dock for a factory. Fillip Pike: I think that I’ve finally found a place to rest now that I’ve lost the two men who broke into my flat. I’m still bleeding pretty badly from my jump through the glass window in my study. Fortunately my fall was broken by my neighbor’s pile of trash… and to think that last week I was complaining about the smell. (He chuckles to himself.) Those men were definitely after me. They weren’t common thieves or hoods: they were pros… hired muscle. In light of recent events, I believe I have little hope of ever finding my wife alive, and it also appears that my fate has been sealed as well. It seems that large corporations like PlyCorp hate to leave loose ends hanging around. Now I figure my only chance for survival is to learn the reason PlyCorp felt Aeria and her father deserved to die, and why they now feel the same about me. If I know what is causing this than maybe I can find a solution, or at least a way out of this whole affair. My only clue to go on at this point is the mysterious DES ring my wife gave me. Tomorrow I’ll go uptown to Domeville. They, if anyone, can help me. The beep of the recorder shutting off. Electronic Voice: Sunday, 1:05 AM Silence. Then another digital beep from the recording device. Electronic Voice: Recording. The sounds of a city street. Footsteps, passing cars, horns and advertisements. Fillip Pike: Domeville, home of teknophile refugees. Kids who could be designing systems for GlobSat or the other G.I.N. providers, if they’d conform to a 9-5 schedule… or got off the crack. Lack of corporate limitations do, however, allow them to come up with prolific systems of their own, albe-them somewhat ghetto. Anyway, my trip to Domeville was well worth it. After talking to some of the gear heads there I think I know why I’m being hunted. My ring didn’t just give me the answers I was looking for… it turns out the ring is what PlyCorp wants after all. My ring is what’s known as a "Genie", designed only by a select group of class-one military contractors. The silicon core contains a hardware encryption key that grants its owner access to sensitive information stored on data cubes. Presumably, mine was once the property of PlyCorp Chemical, until Dr. Thompson gave it to my wife. Whatever information this key hides, it must be important enough that her father wanted to keep the key away from PlyCorp. This ring is evidently worth killing for… either until it’s retrieved or destroyed. I must find out what information this key decodes! The beep of the recorder shutting off. Electronic Voice: Sunday, 5:30 PM Silence. Then another digital beep from the recording device. Electronic Voice: Recording. The sound of a fast-food restaurant. Orders being taken, eating, cooking in the kitchen, etc. Order Taker: Hi, and welcome to Burger King! What would you like to order? Fillip Pike: Yeah, uh, actually… I just wanted to use your data cube. Order Taker: Go right ahead sir, it’s in the back. Fillip Pike: Thanks. Sound of footsteps. Then hand on surface. Data Cube Voice: Good evening, Mr. Pike. Reference code please? Fillip Pike: 1073000-236DES. Data Cube Voice: Accessing… one moment please… … PlyCorp Research and Development. Is this correct? Fillip Pike: Yes. Please call up last access of Thompson, Richard R. Data Cube Voice: Acessing… WARNING! Sensitive information… proceed with decryption? Fillip Pike: Yes. Synopsize and dictate. Data Cube Voice: Affirmative. File: Dr. Richard R. Thompson. Subject: Enzyme; Fluoroplydactase. Flouroplydactase, or DePly-1, created by Dr. Thompson to safely remove PlyDac-12 residual waste from fusion chambers. DePly-1 breaks PlyDac-12 into non-toxic Flouro-carbons which can then be easily removed. In The event of an accidental PlyDac-12 leakage, DePly-1 offers an inexpensive and 98% effective neutralization of the contaminat and it’s toxic byproducts. End Synopsis. Fillip Pike: Jesus… Data Cube Voice: Would you like to read attached addendum? Fillip Pike: Yes. Data Cube Voice: File: Michael Madson, CEO Subject: Company Policy Concerning the Possible Use of DePly-1. PlyCorp Chemical denies the existence of possible enzyme Flouroplydactase, code-named DePly-1, and forbids further research into the matter. End of file. Fillip Pike: My God… Sound of intense beeping. Data Cube Voice: WARNING! This terminal is being locked down by City Police Injunction. Mr. Pike, please remain where you are until you can be serviced by a law enforcement official. Fillip Pike: Fuck that! The beep of the recorder shutting off. Electronic Voice: Sunday, 8:24 PM Silence. Then another digital beep from the recording device. Electronic Voice: Recording. Heavy breathing, the sounds of a back alley… echoes and the distant sounds of the city. Fillip Pike: It is clear to me now what I must do. I know I can’t trust the police and I sure as hell can’t trust PlyCorp. The bastards! They’re killing innocent people when they have the means right at their fingertips to end the massacre. That tanker crash wasn’t an accident… it was planned from the beginning. A cheap way for PlyCorp Chemical to expand into real estate they’d never be able to get otherwise. Sure they’re getting some flack from the crash, but as long as it’s deemed an industrial accident their case is solid enough to hold up in any electronic court. They’ll buy out the land from the dead victim’s homes and expand their diseased corporation. (The sound of footsteps and chains from behind Fillip.) That’s why they want the ring, to make sure their plan never leaks to the public. Well it’s gonna leak, cause there is no way they’re going to stop me when I bring this story to GSN. They’re gonna pay… First Gang Member: Look at what we have hear! Second Gang Member: What da fuck choo doin’ here, men? Fillip Pike: Uh, sorry guys, I didn’t mean to… Third Gang Member: Yo shut the fuck up. You’re on JW turf now, you know that man? Fillip Pike: I’m, I’m sorry guys, I didn’t know… I’m leaving right now. Third Gang Member: Fuckin’ right you’re leaving! First Gang Member: Hold up. First you gotta pay up. We’ll take that ring you got. Fillip Pike: I can’t give you that. Second Gang Member: What did choo say? You wanna die men? Fillip Pike: Guy’s you don’t understand, I’m on a mission— First Gang Member: Man get him!!! The sound of fighting as Fillip screams. The sound of a pipe hitting a skull. Phillip stops screaming. The sound of a body hitting the floor. The beep of the recorder shutting off. Electronic Voice: Sunday, 11:41 PM Silence. Then another digital beep from the recording device. Electronic Voice: Recording. The sound of a heart monitor is in the background, also a respirator. Doctor Steve: Oh! What did I just do? Nurse Nancy: I think you turned it on Doctor. Doctor Steve: Well I’ll be damned! I’ve never seen a pen like this before. And you say this is the only personal item we found on the victim? Nurse Nancy: That’s right Doctor. No identification of any kind, wallet, jewelry, nothing. Victim was suffering a severe hemorrhaging from loss of left ring finger. We were able to stop the bleeding, but the victim is still unconscious. Doctor Steve: Well, according to his charts it doesn’t look like John Doe will be coming around anytime soon. Maybe never. I think we’ve got another vegetable here. Nurse Nancy: Poor guy. I hope we find his family. Doctor Steve: I hope so too. PA system clicks on. PA Voice: Doctor Steve, please report to ER. Doctor Steve to ER. Doctor Steve: Damn. I bet it’s more of those Plydac cases. Come on Nurse. Nurse Nancy: Yes doctor. The sound of a door opening then closing. The room is silent, except for the sound of life-support machinery. After a time, the door slowly opens again. The sound of footsteps. They stop. (It is Jenner, but we are not told this.) We hear a plug being pulled from a socket. The life-support shuts down, and the heart monitor flat-lines. The sound of the pen being picked up, then being switched off. The beep of the recorder shutting off. Electronic Voice: Monday, 3:31 PM Silence. |