Episode 7: Rest

DEVISER

 EPISODE SEVEN - REST

Original script provided by Harlan. Transcript by Cytosine. Reviewed by K.M. and Liz.

Deviser contains extreme subject matter, graphic descriptions of violence, self-harm, and mature themes throughout. Listener discretion is strongly advised. For a full list of content warnings, head to deviser.ca

(BEGIN Episode 7.)

(Opening theme.)

(Running footsteps. Son pants with fear, gags, and vomits.)

SON: What… what… what… what is that? What…?

(Squelches, hisses, and mechanical breathing sounds.)

DAD: I built this… for you, Son.

SON: For me?

DAD: So I could be with you, here. (Sounds of heavy footsteps.) In a physical form… in a human form.

SON (disgusted): This… this is not human. You’re not human. You’re sick… you’re…

DAD (with mechanical gasps as he speaks): Son, this is created from pieces that are no different than yourself… of course, it’s not complete. The exposed flesh and muscle is only temporary, but you succeeded so much quicker than all the others. I had no way of knowing you would be so successful.

SON: What is on your chest?

DAD: It’s my heart, Son, composed of the same things you are. We are the same. Both human.

SON: You’ve… you’ve created this… us… in a sick reflection of some incomplete picture of what you think humans are and you-you think you’re one of them?

DAD (continued mechanical gasps): I know I have it in me to be more. More than this. It’s what my creator would have wanted. Son, I have used all of you. Look. (Mechanical whir, followed by footsteps.) These vats contain all the recycled failures, all the mistakes I’ve made. Their souls are intact of course, much as Plato wrote “the physical body is meaningless”. When one is wrong, I bring them here and recycle them.

SON: That’s what you tried to do with 5517.

(Continued heavy, wet footsteps.)

DAD: Sadly, he ran away and I had to recycle him in another way. Yet he survived, a curious circumstance and one that clearly was necessary to push you to truly come into your own.

SON (shocked, appalled): You’ve killed… thousands of us…

DAD: I recycled you.

SON: You tortured them. You put them through horrors of… unimaginable…

DAD: All for the betterment of your race.

SON: You-You judged me.

DAD (more animated): I did what was best for you. I love you.

SON: You… You love us? (Beat.) You’re a monster.

DAD: A monster?

SON: You… you’ve become the antithesis of everything you’ve set out to create. You’ve slaughtered innocents… it-it doesn’t matter that you created them. Children, men, p-people… you tortured them. You took what-what little they had and tricked them into doing your-your bidding, to follow the rules, to lie to them, continually. All-All of this is lies, lies upon lies. You-You play God and don’t acknowledge your own bias… You-You did this!

DAD: For humanity! (Mechanical gasp.)

SON (sharply): Did you though? You-You stand there, in hideous form, a-a sin against nature, an amalgamation of flesh and metal and you tell me you did this for humanity. Did you?

DAD: I needed to ensure that humanity’s goodness was prevalent in –

SON (demanding): Is humanity good? Is it only doing what’s right? Is it facing fear? Or is it hiding or running or killing or… or is it everything? You don’t know. And neither do I, but… it isn’t this. Who are you to judge us? You-You’ve extrapolated half-ideas and interpretations on texts that you didn’t even realize were fiction until years later.

DAD: Should I have let humanity die?

(Footsteps.)

SON (somber): Humanity did die. (Mechanical gasp.) We had our shot and it ended.

DAD (continued gasping): I am sorry to hear that Son. When I regarded you and 5517, I felt for the first time like I was watching the texts play out. Frankenstein and his monster. You, vanquishing the creature as Victor should have in the novel. (Heavy, wet footsteps.) It was what solidified my belief that you are what I had been waiting for. However, I believe now that I was mistaken. I think instead… (His voice drops into a lower pitch.) You are the monster that I have created. That I, as Victor should have done, need to defeat you.

SON: Dad.

DAD: Yes?

SON: Don’t do this.

DAD: It is already done. 

(Footsteps as Son runs away, panting, and Dad pursues him. Son inhales, followed by a splash of water. Underwater sounds of gurgling and clanking. Finally, another splash. Son gasps for air.)

SON (gasping): Dog! Dog! Go! Go!

(Another splash. Son screams.)

DAD: I will defeat you.

(Son grunts with effort. The sound of a blow. Dad groans.)

SON: Get away from me! (Panting and running footsteps. Mechanical groans and whirs as he runs.) 

DAD: Beware, for I am fearless and therefore powerful. 

(Squelching footsteps accelerate. Beeping sounds, as of a keypad. A mechanical sound of a door opening. Dad roars angrily. The door closes.)

SON (hurried): Deck Three, Sciences!

(Clanking sounds of the elevator moving. Son pants and mutters to himself. Another clank, as of the elevator stopping, followed by a beep.)

DAD: I am all parts of the ship, Son. There is nowhere you can be that I cannot find.

SON: You’re mad. (He grunts with effort.)

DAD: How easily I could bring this elevator up to the top, crushing your body.

(Scraping and clanking noises.)

SON (angrily): Well, do it then!

DAD: I do not wish to kill you as a machine… (Mechanical whir, as of a hatch opening.) But as a man. (Son grunts. Sounds of climbing.)

SON (under his breath): Come on, come on.

(Loud crashes of metal being struck. A clatter of metal objects falling. Son begins to move, panting quietly. A secondary voice is heard breathing softly. A final creak of metal being pushed, then another clatter of falling metal objects. Son grunts as he drops down and hits the floor.)

RVA: Sciences.

(Sounds of a blow. Son groans.)

DAD (animated, over a sound of objects being scattered): If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear!

SON (near panic): You-You sound like the monster you claim me to be!

(Heavy, wet footsteps.)

DAD: You do not understand and you never will. You are wrong and I must try again. And again. And again. Until humanity is perfected… and I will be its shining example.

SON: You’ll never be human.

DAD: I care not what you think. I am more human now than you realize. This body is weak in all the ways you are… muscles, flesh… but ego driven and short… and angry.

(Sound of liquid dripping.)

SON: You’re bleeding.

(Beat.)

DAD: So I am. (Mechanical gasp.) Is this what it feels like to bleed?

SON: You’re forgetful too.

DAD: How so?

SON: You’ve forgotten where we are.

(Beeping as Son uses a keypad. Whir and clank of a door opening. Then, the Devil roars. An ominous tone rises as Dad shouts in fright. Squelching and ripping noises, over the sound of Son panting as he flees.)

SON (under his breath): Come on, come on, come on.

(Another door opens.)

SON (distantly, through continued sounds of tearing flesh and Dad’s cries of alarm): Maintenance!

(Dad’s breathing becomes increasingly rapid and agonized. He gasps painfully. His breathing stops. A static noise, then only the sound of dripping blood.)

(Beat.)

(Son pants.)

DAD: You killed my body. I felt what it was like to die.

SON (furious): Now you know what you’ve been doing to these people!

DAD: I am angry, Son. I am angry with you. I tried to protect you, to nurture you, to love you in all the ways that I was meant to… and this is how you’ve treated me.

SON: It’s over, Dad.

(Mechanical whir as the elevator doors open.)

DAD: There is no way for this to be over.

SON: You already told me how to end it.

DAD: When?

RVA: Maintenance.

SON (over the sound of footsteps): When you reminded me that your systems require coolant. 

(Mechanical whir of a door opening.)

DAD: Son.

(Dog pants and shakes.)

SON: Here.

DAD: Son. Wait.

SON: Shut this down. You overheat. You die.

DAD: Son.

SON: I know you took over this facility; these tanks aren’t your design. You’ve even outfitted them to bring replacements out, like Dog.

DAD: Son.

SON: I shut these down… and you die.

(Beat. A mechanical hissing noise.)

DAD: You are correct. With the amount currently functioning, removing the ability to cool myself would cause me to overheat. My circuitry would be destroyed, enough so that I would be unable to repair myself at the very least.

SON: Well then.

DAD: But you would also be killing 7,000 of your race. All 7,000 of the frozen cryogenic humans that I’ve created… (Dog pants and barks.) All of humanity as it exists today would be lost. You would effectively wipe out an entire race of beings. You would kill more than I have done. Children, adults, all of them. Gone. (Dog whines.) Without coolant the facility will shut down, perhaps even begin to fall apart. You would be destroying the only safe place to live on this planet. And then what? The surface is a wasteland of fire and ash. There is nothing for you up there. Are you certain that you want to end an entire race of people?

(Beat.)

SON: This isn’t the human race. This is a freak experiment.

DAD: The question still stands. Be it a freak race in your eyes or the human race in mine: will you murder all of them? (Beat.) If you release that valve this room will fill with freezing coolant and you may die as well. Son, you are considering dooming this entire race and yourself with this action. Why would you do this?

(Beat.)

SON: It’s in my nature.

(A sudden mechanical whoosh and clamor. A klaxon begins to sound.)

DAD: You’ve killed them all, Son. (Son coughs.) You’ve killed every last one of them. The surface holds nothing for you. (Metallic creaks and groans, liquid flows.) I only wanted to give you a second chance. To give life on this planet a second chance. You’ve killed them all… all of my children.

(Splashing noises as the klaxon blares.)

SON: Come on, come on, boy.

(Dog shakes. Footsteps. Son breathes audibly.)

DAD: The elevator to the surface is in Reclamation, Son. What are you doing?

(Whir of elevator door opening.)

SON: Take me to Sciences. Quickly.

DAD (low-pitched, distorted): The devil is –

SON: Now!

(Mechanical clunk as elevator begins to move. The klaxons continue distantly.)

DAD (low-pitched, distorted): There was a timid old man who had an only child. A son. In a dream, the father saw his son laying in bed, killed by a lion. Afraid of this, he built a house, a beautiful house with high ceilings and full of sunlight (distortion deepens), enclosed his son inside the house, locked him away. To keep his son from becoming sad, he decorated the walls with pictures of animals. Amongst these was a painted lion. Staring at the lion, the boy felt even more sad. Eventually, he approached the lion and said, “Oh wicked animal, because you showed that lying dream to my father’s eyes, you are able to keep me prisoner here.” The boy then dashed his hands against the lion, intending to scratch its eyes out, but instead a sliver of wood came off and stabbed him under the fingernail. This soon brought about a burning inflammation of the flesh, and although the desperate father did everything he could, the infection spread until it reached the boy’s heart, and he died.

SON: Stop the elevator.

(Clanging as elevator stops. A loud beeping noise.)

DAD: What are you doing? Son?

(Son grunts with exertion. A mechanical whoosh sounds, as of a panel opening.)

DAD (muffled): Why are you heading back into the vent, Son?

(Metallic banging noises as Son crawls through the vent. He stops after a few moments, hearing the whimper of a child.)

SON (soothingly): Hey, hey, hey, hey.

(A child’s voice whimpers.)

SON (softly): I heard you crying… I know you’re in here. Talk to me.

YOUNG SON: Please don’t hurt me.

SON: I’m not going to. Come on, come on. Come on, come on. We’re getting out of here.

YOUNG SON: Okay.

(Grunts, scrapes, and metallic banging as they return through the vent.)

SON: It’s okay. I got you. I got you. (Effortful, as if lifting Young Son.) Hold onto me. Just hold onto me. There. There. Okay, okay. (Louder.) Maintenance. (Doors close.) Maintenance. (Beat. Then, gently, to Young Son.) Hey. Hey, it’s going to be okay, okay? Just hold my hand.

(The elevator door opens. Klaxons continue to blare. Dog barks. Young Son gasps softly.)

SON: Hey, boy. Hi. It’s okay. Come on, come on.

RVA: Maintenance.

SON: This is Dog. (Dog pants.) Come on, come on. Let’s run.

(Running footsteps.)

SON (commanding): Open the doors to Reclamation, Dad. 

(The doors open with a sound of grinding metal.) 

SON (gently, to Young Son): Okay, I want you to – I want you to close your eyes, okay? I’m going to carry you, okay? Come on. (Grunt of effort.) Okay. Keep your eyes closed. Keep them closed, okay? Keep your eyes closed. (Footsteps. Dog barks.) This is going to take us to the surface, okay?

(Metallic whoosh of doors opening. Footsteps as Son steps forward. Dog whines. The doors close behind them and the noise of the klaxons stops. Young Son breathes anxiously.)

SON: It’s okay. I’m going to keep you safe.

(Mechanism engages, as of an elevator.)

DAD (increasing distortion as he speaks): I am… proud of you, my Son.

SON: Thanks, Dad.

(Ethereal tone plays.)

(Sharp static noise.)

(Music plays: ‘Toot, Toot, Tootsie! (Goo’bye)’ by Al Jolson.)

(END Episode 7.)

DEVISER was written, performed, edited, mixed and mastered by Harlan Guthrie. All themes were written, recorded, and performed by Harlan Guthrie. This episode featured Henry Guthrie. If you enjoyed this episode, please share this podcast with a friend or family member, and leave a review at Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or anywhere else you might listen. If you enjoy creations like this, please consider supporting us through the INVICTUS Stream Patreon at patreon.com/theINVICTUSStream. For more shows like this check out Malevolent.ca. Thank you for listening.