began.
‘Apparently,’ replied Leslie. ‘I wish to hell we had those manuscripts. But yes, I do have some blueprints of my own.’
‘Such as?’ asked Damien.
‘Well, I think we could manufacture a small electric motor that could be attached to scooters and pushbikes that would give our citizens greater mobility. They might even get as far as to the edges of the wasteland and back without recharging.’
This idea twigged with Damien as he thought of his factories. ‘Go on.’
‘And I’ve been working on a prototype for a long range radio utilising the many satellites still circling the Earth, currently without purpose.’
‘We could use those?’ asked Damien, shifting forward in his seat with interest, suddenly envisioning world trade.
‘I don’t see why not. There are thousands of them just falling around the planet. We should be able to bounce a signal off at least one of them. Some of them are geocentric, so they’re in the same place above the Earth all the time. I might take a few pot shots at one of those. Trial and error.’
‘Trial and error?’ Damien echoed. ‘Mate, if you can really do stuff like that I’ll build whatever you need. We’ve got metal workshops and welding gear and I know where there’s a bunch of mainframe computers in College Street that haven’t been used in a long time - if any of that’s any good to you?’
And so the conversation drifted into the afternoon; both men enthusing the other with promises of things to come and all to the background strains of the little Asian pianist.
MONTAGE
Damien and Leslie burning the midnight oil over a table covered in sheets of paper. There are plans and blueprints strewn everywhere. Leslie is animatedly explaining his designs to Damien who is nodding and offering suggestions.
A workman opens a huge roller door. Damien guides an old army truck into a massive warehouse. Leslie watches on as tools and machinery are loaded from the truck. He laughs with satisfaction and pats the equally-happy Damien on the back.
Leslie in industrial goggles hard at work shaving steel on a lathe.
Damien searching through old industrial bins and throwing any useful raw material onto the back of a truck.
Elizabeth visiting the men. She is shown a pushbike. Its pedals have been removed and footrests installed. Leslie has attached a small motor to the rear of the vehicle and is demonstrating its speed. Elizabeth beams with pleasure at their progress. She hugs both of them. The two men catch eyes with one another in silent competition.
Damien pulls back a sheet to reveal a huge computer. Leslie is impressed and excited. Damien reveals another and yet another. Leslie shakes his head in wonder. He touches one of he mainframes as if it is a precious jewel.
DISSOLVE
Now the same computers are in full swing flashing and beeping and computing. Leslie points to a map of the world on the wall. He is explaining something to Damien and drawing wavy lines across it. Damien nods as Leslie places three crosses on the map: one above Australia; one above the southern tip of India and one above the U.K.
Leslie sits alone. It is late and the close light of a computer monitor splashes light upon his face. He speaks into a microphone . . .
*
‘Come in. Can you read me? Is there anybody out there?’
Leslie was tired. He pushed back his chair from the desk. His face was weary and drawn. The loud sound of white-noise filled the darkened room. Leslie rubbed his eyes, moved across the room and turned on the light. Behind him a heavy, old satellite dish was revealed pointing up through a large recently excavated hole in the curved metal roof directly above it. He punched a series of digits into the mainframe and the satellite dish moved a fraction of a degree to the north, almost imperceptibly. He stared at it for a moment, his eyes glazed with fatigue. He wandered slowly down a long corridor towards the men’s room, stretching his back and neck as he went.
He
‘Apparently,’ replied Leslie. ‘I wish to hell we had those manuscripts. But yes, I do have some blueprints of my own.’
‘Such as?’ asked Damien.
‘Well, I think we could manufacture a small electric motor that could be attached to scooters and pushbikes that would give our citizens greater mobility. They might even get as far as to the edges of the wasteland and back without recharging.’
This idea twigged with Damien as he thought of his factories. ‘Go on.’
‘And I’ve been working on a prototype for a long range radio utilising the many satellites still circling the Earth, currently without purpose.’
‘We could use those?’ asked Damien, shifting forward in his seat with interest, suddenly envisioning world trade.
‘I don’t see why not. There are thousands of them just falling around the planet. We should be able to bounce a signal off at least one of them. Some of them are geocentric, so they’re in the same place above the Earth all the time. I might take a few pot shots at one of those. Trial and error.’
‘Trial and error?’ Damien echoed. ‘Mate, if you can really do stuff like that I’ll build whatever you need. We’ve got metal workshops and welding gear and I know where there’s a bunch of mainframe computers in College Street that haven’t been used in a long time - if any of that’s any good to you?’
And so the conversation drifted into the afternoon; both men enthusing the other with promises of things to come and all to the background strains of the little Asian pianist.
MONTAGE
Damien and Leslie burning the midnight oil over a table covered in sheets of paper. There are plans and blueprints strewn everywhere. Leslie is animatedly explaining his designs to Damien who is nodding and offering suggestions.
A workman opens a huge roller door. Damien guides an old army truck into a massive warehouse. Leslie watches on as tools and machinery are loaded from the truck. He laughs with satisfaction and pats the equally-happy Damien on the back.
Leslie in industrial goggles hard at work shaving steel on a lathe.
Damien searching through old industrial bins and throwing any useful raw material onto the back of a truck.
Elizabeth visiting the men. She is shown a pushbike. Its pedals have been removed and footrests installed. Leslie has attached a small motor to the rear of the vehicle and is demonstrating its speed. Elizabeth beams with pleasure at their progress. She hugs both of them. The two men catch eyes with one another in silent competition.
Damien pulls back a sheet to reveal a huge computer. Leslie is impressed and excited. Damien reveals another and yet another. Leslie shakes his head in wonder. He touches one of he mainframes as if it is a precious jewel.
DISSOLVE
Now the same computers are in full swing flashing and beeping and computing. Leslie points to a map of the world on the wall. He is explaining something to Damien and drawing wavy lines across it. Damien nods as Leslie places three crosses on the map: one above Australia; one above the southern tip of India and one above the U.K.
Leslie sits alone. It is late and the close light of a computer monitor splashes light upon his face. He speaks into a microphone . . .
*
‘Come in. Can you read me? Is there anybody out there?’
Leslie was tired. He pushed back his chair from the desk. His face was weary and drawn. The loud sound of white-noise filled the darkened room. Leslie rubbed his eyes, moved across the room and turned on the light. Behind him a heavy, old satellite dish was revealed pointing up through a large recently excavated hole in the curved metal roof directly above it. He punched a series of digits into the mainframe and the satellite dish moved a fraction of a degree to the north, almost imperceptibly. He stared at it for a moment, his eyes glazed with fatigue. He wandered slowly down a long corridor towards the men’s room, stretching his back and neck as he went.
He
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