POD TO PLUTO

Episode One: The Last Day

by

Peter Richard Adams

SCENE 1.

POD:	(V.O.) Designation: UK Space Agency Engineering Pod Number 46. 
	Date: September 1, 2117.
Current task: Routine maintenance to transmitter coils on adult satellite, designation Hugemongouswowwows.com. 
Current crew compliment: One. Jemima Belafonte, Engineer Class 3. 
Current mood: I’m pretty chipper! Thanks for asking… People rarely ask…

					FADE

SCENE 2.

F/X:	THE LOW HUM AND BLEEPS THAT YOU WOULD EXPECT FROM THE INTERIOR OF A SPACE-GOING VESSEL.

JEMIMA: 	(Practicing a speech) Friends, colleagues, boss… Pause for laughter… 

POD: 	What are you doing?

JEMIMA: 	I’m practicing my speech, Pod. 

POD: 	What it for? 

JEMIMA: 	My leaving party Pod. It’s my last day. 

POD:	Ahhh… Is that why we’re not doing any real work?

JEMIMA:	We are doing real work Pod, it’s just that I may have accidentally over-estimated the amount of time it will take us to fix this smutalite of love… Which is useful as it gives me time to practice my speech.

POD: 	Are we on a jolly?

JEMIMA:	No, we are definitely not on a jolly.

POD:	Well, it feels like we’re on a jolly. You’re wearing a party dress.

JEMIMA:	It’s dress down Friday, Pod. 

POD:	And you’re drinking a beer.

 JEMIMA:	Shhh now Pod, I’m practicing. Now, where was I? Friends, colleagues, boss… Pause for laughter… Thank you for all coming tonight. Who would have thought that in 2112 an engineering trainee with an allergy to grass so bad that she was willing to take the worst space-based engineering job she could find, would just five short years later, be moving to Devon to grow sheep on a farm with…

F/X: 					COMMUNICATOR RINGS. 

JEMIMA: 	Ah shock! Pod, accept call, audio only. 

F/X: 					COMMUNICATOR SWITCHES ON.

JEMIMA (CONT’D):	Hello?

MUM: 	(D) Jemima. It’s your mother… How many sausages do you want?

JEMIMA: 			Mum, I told you not to call me at work.

MUM: 	(D) Don’t speak to me in that tone of voice Jemima Margaret Belafonte! Other mums call their daughters at work you know.

JEMIMA: 	Yes Mum, but most other daughters don’t work in space.

MUM:	(D) You hardly work in space dear. 

JEMIMA:	Mum, I’m in space right now carrying out extraordinarily delicate work on a satellite. 

MUM: 	(D) Yes but that’s like saying I work in high-level finance when in fact we both know I’m the cleaner at a building society. 

JEMIMA:	Distract me at the wrong moment and sixteen million dollars’ worth of burning death could end up destroying a fishing community in the South China Sea. 

MUM: 	(D) Nonsense… Those satellites are just peddling smut. The worst that could happen is a red-faced teen might trip over his trousers trying to check the router. 

JEMIMA: 	Yeah but it’d make his experience of hugemongouswowwows.com even worse if a satellite then landed on him killing everyone he knows. 

MUM:	(D) Well I haven’t got time to worry about that, I need to know how many sausages you want in the oven.

JEMIMA: 			What?

MUM: 				(D) Sausages, for this weekend. 

JEMIMA: 	I’m not coming this weekend Mum. I’m moving to Exeter with Graham. To start a new life. You must remember? 

MUM: 	(D) I know that but I thought you might dump him and I know how sausages always make you feel better. 

JEMIMA: 	Sausages don’t make me feel… Wait. Why would I dump him?

MUM:	(D) Because moving is a silly idea Jemima. You’re allergic to grass. Cornwall is full of grass. 

JEMIMA:	Exeter is in Devon, mum.

MUM: 	Cornwall, Devon… it’s all the same to me. They’re the sort of people who argue about the order in which to put jam and cream on their sausages. You won’t last five minutes there.

JEMIMA:	Cream first, then the jam... And I will last five minutes, mum. I’m going to move to Exeter with Graham and we’re going to have a happy life.

MUM: 	(D) I’ll tell you what, I’ll put a couple of sausages on for you. Just in case. 

JEMIMA:	Please don’t Mum, I won’t be there.

MUM: 	(D) And I’ll put some in for Graham too, just in case you don’t dump him when you get cold feet. 

JEMIMA:	I won’t be getting cold feet Mum. 

MUM:	(D) Why are you at work anyway? I thought you were quitting that job?

JEMIMA: 	I am quitting Mum. Today’s my last day. Once I’ve completed this incredibly delicate operation on a piece of potentially lethal bangware, I’m taking the Pod back to Command & Control for my leaving party. It’s going to be glorious. I’m going to make a funny yet poignant speech. People will cry and tell me they’re going to miss me. I’ll be showered with gifts and then I’m going to Exeter with Graham to start my new life. But I can’t do any of that until I finish up here.

MUM:	(D) All right, I’ll go. But let me know if you change your mind about the sausages. 

JEMIMA: 			Ok Mum… 

MUM: 				(D) Bye dear. 

JEMIMA:	Bye. 

F/X: 					COMMUNICATOR SWITCHES OFF.

JEMIMA:	Right, where was I? Friends… Thank you for all coming out tonight. Who would have thought that in 2112 an…

POD: 	New task accepted. Coordinates set. Initiating. 

JEMIMA:			Pod, what’s happening? 

POD: 	I accepted a new task, set coordinates and initiated. I thought I was pretty succinct in my exposition.
 
JEMIMA: 			Why wasn’t I consulted? 

POD:	I didn’t want to get in the way of a loving family moment.

JEMIMA: 			Ok Pod, what’s the task?

POD: 				Classified. 

JEMIMA: 	There’s no such thing as a classified task in our line of work Pod.

POD:	Still, the task is classified. Again I was pretty succinct. 

JEMIMA: 	Get Command & Control on the comm. Audio only. 

POD: 				Confirmed. 

F/X: 	COMMUNICATOR SWITCHES ON AND CALLS.

JOHN: 	(D) Good afternoon this is Command & Control, John speaking, how can I help?

JEMIMA: 			John, what the shock is going on?

JOHN: 			(D) Jemima! Damn! 

JEMIMA: 			Jemima Damn? 

JOHN:			(D) Is that not your surname?

JEMIMA:			It’s Belafonte. 

JOHN: 	(D) That’s right… It is. Well done. Hi Jemima Belafonte!

JEMIMA: 			 Hi John. Why did you say: “Damn”. 

JOHN:	(D) I think we’ve got a pretty bad line (MAKES CRACKLE NOISES). 

JEMIMA: 	What’s this classified override task that Pod’s bleeping on about, John?

JOHN: 	(D) Can’t tell you, it’s classified. 

JEMIMA: 	Why is it classified John?

JOHN:	(D) Because I made it classified. 

JEMIMA:	And why did you do that?

JOHN:	(D) So you wouldn’t find out about it and get mad at me. 

JEMIMA: 	But now I do know about it and I am still getting pretty mad with you. So, what it is John?

JOHN: 			(D) It’s just one last job.

JEMIMA: 			What is it John?

JOHN: 			(D) Before you quit. 

JEMIMA: 			What is it John?

JOHN: 			(D) And it’s not my fault. 

JEMIMA: 			What is it John?

JOHN: 			(D) Just a round trip.

JEMIMA: 			Where to John?

JOHN:			(D) The neighbourhood. 

JEMIMA:			Where in the neighbourhood?

JOHN:			(D) Pluto?

JEMIMA: 			Are you asking me or telling me?

JOHN:			(D) Telling you? Is that ok?

JEMIMA: 			No it’s not ok! I have a party to get to! 

JOHN:			(D) It’s just a quick in and out.

JEMIMA: 			How quick?

JOHN: 			(D) Quick enough… Considering. 

JEMIMA: 			Considering what?

JOHN:	(D) Considering Pluto is at the end of our solar system.

JEMIMA:	How long?

JOHN:	(D) Well, put it this way… You’re going to be a little bit late for the party. But not that much…

JEMIMA: 			How late?

JOHN: 			(D) You know how long a decade is? 

JEMIMA: 			What?!

JOHN: 	(D) Well, it’s not that long. Hurrah! Isn’t that nice?

JEMIMA: 	How long is it, John?

JOHN:	(D) Nowhere near that long. Nowhere near that long at all. In fact it’s exactly half that long. That’s already a saving of 50%.

JEMIMA: 			Five years? 

JOHN: 	(D) Give or take a week or two, yeah. Sorry about that. 

JEMIMA: 			Five years! That’s ridiculous. Why me?

JOHN: 			(D) You had nothing in your diary. 

JEMIMA: 	Of course I had nothing in my diary. Today’s my last day.

JOHN: 	(D) Yes but Pod Command didn’t know what did it? It just automatically allocates tasks. Your diary was empty for the next five years, so it gave you the job of popping to Pluto. Besides you’re the only person who can do the job. 

JEMIMA: 			Really?

JOHN: 	(D) Absolutely. Bob’s going to the ballet.

JEMIMA: 	He’s not coming tonight? What a git. What about Dave? Or Janet? 

JOHN: 	(D) Well they have a party in their diary. 

JEMIMA: 			I know… It’s my party! 

JOHN: 			(D) Then why isn’t it in your diary?

JEMIMA: 			Because I finish for the last time ever at 5pm!

JOHN: 	(D) Well you only have yourself to blame if your diary doesn’t accurately reflect your availability. You know how automated task allocation works. 

JEMIMA: 			You can’t do this to me John… 

JOHN: 			(D) I’m not. The system is.

JEMIMA: 			Get Gandecha on the line. 

JOHN: 			(D) The boss? I can’t.

JEMIMA: 			Why not?

JOHN: 			(D) He’s practicing his speech for the party. 

JEMIMA: 	But there’ll be no speech to make if I’m not there… 

JOHN:	(D) All the same, he’s really nervous about it. I’d hate to disturb him when he’s in his stride. 

JEMIMA:	For shock’s sake John, turn it off and bring me in! Today’s my last day!

JOHN: 	(D) Well think about it this way… Today is your last day. It’s just today in 2122. Rather than today today. That’s a lot of overtime you’ll be racking up. 

JEMIMA: 	Yes… A lot of overtime I’ll be racking up on my own in a ten metre by ten metre engineering pod.

JOHN: 	(D) Look on the bright side, it’ll give you time to indulge your hobbies. You have hobbies right?

JEMIMA: 			I read a bit. 

JOHN:	(D) There you go! Catch up on your reading. Sit down with a good book and you’ll be back in no time. 

JEMIMA: 			A book isn’t going to last me five years John.

JOHN: 			(D) Well, perhaps I could send you a couple. 

JEMIMA: 	Neither will two books. 

JOHN:	(D) Ever made a model airplane?

JEMIMA:	No.

JOHN:	(D) Or sewn a tapestry?

JEMIMA:	John, the point is that I don’t want to go. 

JOHN: 			(D) Chess!

JEMIMA: 			What?

JOHN:			(D) Can you play chess?

JEMIMA: 			No. 

JOHN: 	(D) Plenty of time to learn then. You’ll be a grand master by the time you get back… Take on Big Brown?

JEMIMA:	I don’t want to be a grand master John. I want to finish my last job and take the pod back to Command & Control for my leaving party. I want it to be glorious. I want to make a funny yet poignant speech so people will cry and tell me they’re going to miss me. I want to be showered with gifts and then go to Exeter with Graham to start my new life.

JOHN: 	(D) That can still happen. It can just happen in five years.

JEMIMA: 	I get it! This is a prank! 

JOHN:	(D) Nope.

JEMIMA: 			Make it stop!

JOHN: 	(D) I can’t. Just do this job and you’re done. I’ll even block out your calendar afterwards. 

JEMIMA: 	What’s the job anyway? What’s so important that I’m about to lose one sixteenth of my life for it?

JOHN: 	(D) Well you know the last guy we had on the Pluto run? 

JEMIMA: 	No. 

JOHN: 	(D) Sure you do… Pete Thomas. Great bloke. You must have met him?

JEMIMA: 	I’ve not met him John because he’s spent the last five years in deep space doing the Pluto run. 

JOHN:	(D) Ah… Well, when he’d finished fixing up the sensor array and headed home he realised that he’d made a tiny mistake. 

JEMIMA:	Which was?

JOHN: 	(D) He left the light on. 

JEMIMA: 	What?

JOHN: 	(D) At least he thinks he did. He can’t remember. 

JEMIMA: 	So send him back to check. 

JOHN: 	(D) Can’t. He’s got something in his diary. 

JEMIMA: 	This is insane. 

JOHN: 	(D) It’s just how it works. It could be worse. 

JEMIMA: 	How could it be worse? 

JOHN:	(D) Got to go Jemima! Party to go to… 

JEMIMA: 	John! John?

F/X: 					COMMUNICATOR SWITCHES OFF.

POD: 	Call terminated. 

JEMIMA:	I can’t be on my own for five years. I’ll go mad. 

POD:	You won’t go mad… You’ve got me. I’m terrific.

JEMIMA: 	I’m going to go mad. 

F/X: 					THE COMMUNICATOR RINGS. 

POD:	Incoming call. 

JEMIMA: 	Who is it?

POD: 	Graham. 

JEMIMA: 	Oh god. 

POD:	Do you want me to terminate. 

JEMIMA:	No, put it through. 

F/X: 					COMMUNICATOR SWITCHES ON. 

GRAHAM: 	(D) Jemima… Why have I just had your mother on the phone asking me about sausages? Are you breaking up with me?

JEMIMA: 	She thinks we’re coming round this weekend.

GRAHAM:	(D) We’re not though are we? We’re moving to Devon. You have told her haven’t you? 

JEMIMA: 	Of course. 

GRAHAM: 	(D) You’re not backing out are you? 

JEMIMA: 	No, of course not. It’s just…

GRAHAM: 	(D) Oh god, you’re getting cold feet aren’t you? 

JEMIMA: 	No.

GRAHAM: 	(D) Really?

JEMIMA: 	Honestly. 

GRAHAM: 	(D) Ok, great. Well I’ve booked the taxi for tonight at seven. Is that ok? 

JEMIMA: 	Graham…

GRAHAM: 	(D) Yes?

JEMIMA: 	 I’m going to be a little bit late. 
	
END