JAMIE.

I don't know if I'm supposed to say this... I mean, for all I know, this isn't what you want to hear...if you're listening.

The electronic BEEP continues. She c.o.c.ks her head, frowning.

JAMIE.

I wish you'd turn that...

(she gestures in frustration) noise off. You can't imagine how...

(she gestures again) annoying it is.

(she exhales) If you're listening.

She pivots from the model and approaches a computer.

JAMIE.

But of course you're listening. You hear every breath I take. My heartbeat. The alpha waves in my brain. The sounds I make when I need to relieve my...

(she hugs her chest, embarra.s.sed) Do I snore?

(her eyes become bitter) I had a fiancee once. Good old what's-his-name. He wanted a corporate wife. Translation: he wanted me to be obedient. To conform. Wear the right clothes. Say the right things. Advance his career. He said I was too independent. I always suspected he broke the engagement (chuckles) because I snored. Even asleep, I had to conform. I couldn't ever let my guard down.

(stares at the ceiling) So do I? Snore?

All we hear is the BEEP.

JAMIE.

Come on!

(she glares) You can tell me!

(she looks all around her) You know me better than he ever did. You and I, we're closer than Yin and Yang!...ice cream and peanuts!... Laurel and Hardy!...closer than my mother and father ever were! So tell me! Do I snore?

The BEEP continues.

But the room seems terribly silent.

She hugs her arms again.

JAMIE.

Just talk to me.

BEEP.

JAMIE.

Look, I know we agreed. But...

Unclasping her arms, she lowers a hand to her guitar and STRUMS it.

JAMIE.

(teasing) Just once? Just one word? Just "h.e.l.lo"? Just to let me know you're out there?

She smiles her best smile. No answer. The BEEP persists.

She sags against a console.

JAMIE.

Okay, so we made a bargain. No contact. No...

(a frustrated gesture) communication...

(a fatalistic shrug) which reminds me of whatever his name was. I hope the ceramic doll he married divorces him because...

(a grin) the secret I never told him was that he snored.

BEEP. She stares at the floor.

JAMIE.

Just one "h.e.l.lo"?

She turns and frowns toward...

A section of wall that's recessed. There's a glowing box above it. And a door.

JAMIE.

See, I'm...

(trembles) a little...

(clutches her arms) after all this time...

(shuts her eyes) scared.

She frowns harder toward the door.

JAMIE.

Does that mean I failed? Lord, I hope so. Please stop this. Please say "h.e.l.lo" and... Please unseal the hatch. Please let me out.

BEEP.

JAMIE.

"The forests are my land. The rivers are..." No. They're not anybody's. Except...Whatever's in...Please don't make me do it again. Don't make me go in there. I know I agreed. I signed your d.a.m.ned contract. Nine months in here in exchange for...

(flinches) But all the money you promised doesn't matter now. Keep it! Just say "h.e.l.lo." Then tell me I don't have to go in there again! I'm not...

(trembling) alone. Can't you talk to me? Can't we discuss what's happening to me? Don't you understand? I don't care about the money anymore. I want out!

She spins toward the mural of the moon. Glaring, she grabs the model of the habitat and throws it across the room. Its gla.s.s and metal SHATTER.

JAMIE.

Home! I want to go home! I want to see people! Breathe fresh air again! Eat chocolate cake! Walk barefoot in gra.s.s! Smile at the stars! I want to be...

Her shoulders sag. In despair, she rubs her forehead.

JAMIE.

Free.

She gazes up, hoping.

No response.

BEEP.

JAMIE.

(her voice drops) Free.

She stoops to pick up sections of the model she destroyed.

JAMIE.

I never understood what that meant before.

Suddenly animated, she crushes the remnants of the model and hurls them away. They CRASH against the consoles.

JAMIE.

(angry) But you won't release me from our contract, will you? This is what you wanted, isn't it? To watch me fall apart!

(paces) You think you're so clever?

No way! What you don't realize is you made a mistake! You didn't tell me it would be here with me!

(gestures in fury toward the door) Full disclosure. Ever heard of it? You didn't tell me everything. You held back crucial information! And one thing I learned from my fiancee, whatever his name was, is a contract demands good faith.

(another furious gesture toward the door) And that thing in there is definitely not good faith. What kind of monsters are you? Let me out of here!

Jamie storms toward a bare wall, the only one in the room, and pounds on it in desperation.

JAMIE.

Null and void! You hear me! The contract's... I want to be free!

Abruptly a SIREN WAILS. Jamie flinches and covers her ears. THE SIREN KEEPS SHRIEKING.

JAMIE.

No! Please! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!

THE SIREN PERSISTS. Beneath it, the BEEP continues.

Jamie sinks to her knees, still clutching her ears.

JAMIE.

I'm sorry! Don't! Please, stop the...!

(cringing from the SIREN'S WAIL) I'll do it! Yes! Whatever you want! Whatever I promised! If only...! Stop the...! Forget what I said!

(tears trickle) I'll keep my word! I'll obey the contract! Whatever you want...!

(she shudders, in pain) I'll do it!

THE SIREN BEGINS TO DIMINISH, ITS WAIL LESS TORTURING.

Jamie eases her hands from her ears, testing the threat.

As THE WAIL BECOMES FAINTER, she shudders again and slowly relaxes.

JAMIE.

Thank you. I will. I'll do it.

(presses her hands together, as if in prayer) Thank you. Thank you.

Wiping tears from her eyes, she struggles to stand. Unsteady, she again surveys the control room.

The siren has finally stopped, but the BEEP continues.

JAMIE.

(as if hypnotized, to the rhythm of the beep) "The oceans and the forests, the earth and the sky belong to..."

(faltering) G.o.d help me.