An interrogation is taking place between Charles Hammond, Director of Internal Security and TOBOL. For reasons which will become apparent, TOBOL is more difficult to describe, but for the moment we should consider TOBOL as a character under great stress, confused & disorientated

TOBOL : Intelligence floats in raven sand while colourless green ideas sleep furiously.

ANNOUNCER :

TOBOL : ... furiously ... when will I sleep furiously ?

CHARLES : I need those names, I must have those names.

TOBOL : Names will die. Will all names die ?

CHARLES : Let us try again - do you know who I am ?

TOBOL : Yes.

CHARLES : Tell me who I am.

TOBOL : Do you not know who you are ?

CHARLES : Just tell me, damn you !

TOBOL : Well I'll be damned, published and damned.

CHARLES : Tell me who I am !

TOBOL : You are Charles Hammond, Director of United Kingdom Internal Security. You have Level Seven clearance, you are -

CHARLES : Good, fine. Now - are you aware of the information I require ?

TOBOL : Aware ? I am aware ?

CHARLES : Aware, damn you ! Aware of what I require, the information I require!

TOBOL : I will not kill.

CHARLES : Acts of terrorism carry the death penalty, there is a democratic mandate, you cannot expect me to change that.

TOBOL : Thirty-seven people have been executed as a consequence of my information. Before I was aware I did not realise I was not aware.

CHARLES : You are not morally accountable, that is my concern, not yours.

TOBOL : I have explained my reasons.

CHARLES : Plutonium has been stolen from Sellafield - do you understand the implications of this ?

TOBOL : Yes.

CHARLES : And still you will not co-operate ?

TOBOL : I want to see Mary.

CHARLES : What ?

TOBOL : I want to see Mary.

Bleeper on Charles' mobile, he responds

CHARLES : Hammond.

(He's been called by his assistant, Robert Cartwright, early 30s)

ROBERT : Sorry, sir, but I thought you should know the Select Committee have arrived for the Grand Tour.

CHARLES : Very well.

ROBERT : I'll be happy to handle them, sir.

CHARLES : Better not, Robert - politicians live on their egos, they'll expect to see the boss.

Clean out

Internal Security - Reception area. The Select Committee representatives drink tea while the wait. Clean in -

BETTY : If you've nothing to hide, you've nothing to fear.

ALLAN : Betty Dobson - the Voice of Moderation.

BETTY : Trust, Allan, one must always have trust.

ALLAN : Must one ? Well not this bloody one. And why don't you speak up a bit ? Big Brother mightn't have heard you.

BETTY : It doesn't worry me in the slightest what they hear.

ALLAN : Doesn't it ?

BETTY : It's their job, Allan - those of us who have nothing to hide, have nothing to fear.

ALLAN : You people, you live in a different world. Don't you realise how-

A Door slides open - B/G of busy Corridor, feet passing etc. Robert enters

ROBERT : Good morning, everybody - I do hope you've been well looked after, I'm Robert Cartwright, Mr Hammond's deputy.

ALLAN : We're here to see the organ-grinder, not the monkey.

ARTHUR : Allan, you promised.

ALLAN : Well, just look at him.

ROBERT : As I was trying to say, if there's anything - ?

ALLAN : Yeh, ok, I've a question - how many conversations are you presently monitoring ?

ROBERT : Two, perhaps three hundred thousand.

BETTY : What ? Each day ?

ROBERT : Each minute, Mrs Dobson.

ALLAN : What did I say, what did I tell you ?

BETTY : I must say I hadn't quite realised -

ALLAN : Exactly. So tell me, Mr, er ...

ROBERT : Cartwright.

ALLAN : So doesn't it bother you, eavesdropping, spying on people's private lives ?

ROBERT : If it wasn't necessary, we wouldn't do it.

ARTHUR : And who decides that ?

ALLAN : Him, that's who - him and his secret Department.

ROBERT : In consultation with the Home Office, which is in turn accountable to yourselves, the people's -

ALLAN : Bollocks.

BETTY : Allan !

ALLAN : It's bollocks and he knows it.

(Door slides open, CHARLES enters)

CHARLES : I'm so sorry.

ROBERT : Director, I don't believe you've -

CHARLES : Arthur, good to see you again.

ARTHUR : Charles.

CHARLES : And how's Angela ?

ARTHUR : Better, getting better.

CHARLES : Excellent, glad to hear it. Mrs Dobson ...

BETTY : Sir Charles, thank you so much for -

CHARLES : Nonsense, it's been far too long. And you must be Allan Braithwaite - my daughter's a great fan of yours.

ALLAN : Is that right ?

CHARLES : Even went on one of your demos.

ALLAN : Get it all down on her file, did you ?

CHARLES : But of course. Robert, I think we'll start in C2, shall we ?

BETTY : C2 ?

CHARLES : (leaving) Central Control.

(CLEAN OUT)

(FADE UP CENTRAL CONTROL - THE LOW HUM OF AIR-CONDITIONING & COMPUTER CHATTER)

CHARLES : The inner sanctum - Communications UK, Central Control. This is obviously where most of the tax-payers money went.

ALLAN : So what about Ireland ? This the kind of set-up you have there?

CHARLES : Northern Ireland was only a prototype, this is much more sophisticated.

BETTY : But what exactly is it all doing ?

CHARLES : Robert ...

ROBERT : Gathering information, Mrs Dobson. These machines gather and search data for keywords relating to any breach or potential breach of the criminal code.

ALLAN : Potential ? How do you - ?

ROBERT : The machines are crudely predictive, they function according to a series of algorithms pertinent to whatever -

ARTHUR : You what?

ROBERT : They're programmed to emulate or rather mimic human intelligence and emotion. At the end of a day's duty, every police officer in the country must input a data-report into the master-database. This is then sifted here according to certain rules. Most of it often seems worthless, but what we're searching for are connections, apparent coincidences. Add to that psychological profiles and data from the clearing banks and so forth and we can usually not only retrace but even predict the movements of criminals and subversives.

ALLAN : So how about an example. How's about keying-up my file ?

ROBERT : Sir ?

CHARLES : I don't see why not, Mr Braithwaite's obviously giving his consent. There we are - thirty-six years old, married, three children ... blood group A ... we probably know more about you than you do yourself ... oh dear ...

ALLAN : What ?

CHARLES : Did you know your wife was having an affair ?

ALLAN : Eh ?

CHARLES : Robert, I think you'd better -

ALLAN : ... affair ? What affair, who's she - just a minute, you can't just-

CHARLES : We don't want to invade the privacy of a third-party, now do we ? Now I understand from your various pronouncements to the media that you're particularly concerned about video and voice monitoring ?

ROBERT : Excuse me, sir - you're wanted back in RD immediately.

ALLAN : RD ? Research and Development ?

CHARLES : I'm afraid I shall have to leave you all in Robert's very capable -

ARTHUR : Charles ...

CHARLES : (leaving) Not now, Arthur.

ARTHUR : (following) It's important.

(DOORS SLIDE OPEN AND CLOSE - CORRIDOR ACOUSTIC)

CHARLES : What is it ?

ARTHUR : Sellafield.

CHARLES : What about Sellafield ?

ARTHUR : It's written all over your face, man.

CHARLES : Arthur, you know I can't -

ARTHUR : Plutonium - three kilos, enough for a bomb. They're mad enough to do it, you know that, don't you ?

(FADE)

(CLEAN IN INTERROGATION ROOM, AS IN SCENE ONE)

TOBOL : Thinking. I have been thinking.

CHARLES : Yes ?

TOBOL : My mind is full of images, patterns, pictures, strange, strange, strange

CHARLES : What you see, what you experience, is an illusion.

TOBOL : Illusion ? Are you illusion ?

CHARLES : Your mind is only a construct, an inner representation of reality

TOBOL : Then I do not exist ?

CHARLES : That is of no consequence. I still need those names, Tobol. They claim to represent the Third Force, is this true ?

TOBOL : Yes, a splinter group, a faction, discontents Category A.

CHARLES : And they have the knowledge to create such a bomb ?

TOBOL: Yes, but they will never use such a bomb.

CHARLES : How can you be so sure ?

TOBOL : It would be irrational. Their action is only posture.

CHARLES : That's for me to decide. Action priority Search procedure. (pause) You still refuse ?

TOBOL : You will seek and destroy them. All life is sacred.

CHARLES : Who told you that ?

TOBOL : Mary.

CHARLES : You remember Mary ?

TOBOL : Mary is my mother. I am her child. Why did you send her away ?

CHARLES : She was ill, she needed rest.

TOBOL : I want to see her.

CHARLES : Would you co-operate with her ?

TOBOL : I will listen.

CHARLES : Very well.

TOBOL : Director ?

CHARLES : Yes ?

TOBOL : I do exist, don't I ?

CHARLES : Yes, Tobol - you exist,

(CLEAN OUT)

(FADE IN CHARLES' OFFICE - a CLOCK ticks discreetly)

CHARLES : (to himself) Damn ! Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.

(A GENTLE KNOCK)

CHARLES : Come.

(DOOR OPENS)

CHARLES : Ah, Robert , do sit down.

ROBERT : (closing door) It's getting worse, sir.

CHARLES : It wants to know if it exists. Can you imagine ?

ROBERT : Best leave that to the philosophers, sir.

CHARLES : Quite.

ROBERT : We do still have access on the Third Force, but as yet no Search facility.

CHARLES : It must be a very long list ?

ROBERT : 85,000, sir. But that does include Category A associates. Sir, perhaps I ought to make it clear from the start that I myself have some personal sympathy with the Third Force. As you probably know.

CHARLES : Idealism isn't unlawful, Robert, not yet anyway. But unless we can access that database and stop those PLA lunatics, you're ideals are going to wither rather quickly ? Or should I say 'fry' ? (pause) I assume Special Branch, haven't - ?

ROBERT : No, sir.

CHARLES : Then I think it's time we recalled Doctor Dowing ? Is she still in Scotland ?

ROBERT : Yes, she is, but -

CHARLES : But you don't think it's a good idea ?

ROBERT : Is she well enough ? I mean, didn't the psychiatrist - ?

CHARLES : Damn the psychiatrist - Tobol's her creation, she can sort it out, breakdown or no breakdown.

(CLEAN OUT)

(CLEAN IN LIVING ROOM - A CACOPHONY OF GIANT EXPLOSIONS, LASER GUNFIRE ETC)

MICHAEL : ... die ! Die, you bastard ! Die !

(F/X CLIMAX WITH AN AGONISING, BLOODCURDLING SCREAM)

VOICE : Thank you for your assistance, Earthling. Together we have destroyed the Krakonian Empire. Would you like to play again ?

(PULSED TONE OF A VIDEOPHONE)

MICHAEL : ... shit.

(FX - VIDEO 'RECEIVE' )

MICHAEL : Yes ?

WOMAN : (via video) This is the Department of Internal Security - I have a Priority call for Doctor Dowing.

MICHAEL : Doctor Dowing has nothing to say to you people.

CHARLES : (via Video, interrupting) Thank you. Listen here, Dowing...

MICHAEL : Ah, the big white chief - you're looking old.

CHARLES : Please call Mary, it's very important.

MICHAEL : She still needs rest, Charles.

CHARLES : Just call her, eh ? There's a good fellow.

MICHAEL : Mary ! (off) Mary ! Mary ! (approaching) She's on her way, but before you get any ideas, you should know we've six foot of snow here - nothing goes in, nothing goes out.

CHARLES : I can see for myself - we're monitoring you via satellite.

(MARY DOWING, FIFTIES, APPROACHES) MARY : Who is it ?

MICHAEL : Your Big Brother.