The Scientist

[Black Screen]

Narrator: This is a story of labor. This is a story of how human activity can make things happen that shouldn’t have happened. The labor of man likewise can cause things that should have happened but didn’t. This is a story of one man’s work that became his life.

[Scene I]

Steve sits next to a table inside a small train compartment. The year is 1960. On the table are various papers. He idly holds a pen in one hand, the other hand supporting his head as he gazes outside the window. On his lap rests a newspaper with the headline, “THE BAY OF PIGS FAILED: CUBAN MISSLE CRISIS ESCALATES. US MILITARY AT DEFCON 3” He is lost in his thoughts when Irene walks into the room.

Irene: Something troubling you?

Steve: No, not really. It’s just very difficult to write. The table keeps shaking.

Irene: You are aware that we are on a train?

Irene busies herself in making coffee. Steve, lost in his thoughts goes back staring at the window.

Irene in a quiet voice: You’re thinking about her aren’t you?

Steve ignoring the question, still staring at the window:  I once had a teacher who told me that long distance relationships were bull shit. He believed that love requires more than the spirit, but also a body. For a relationship to work there must both be a spiritual and material presence.

Irene: That sounds like a wise philosophy.

Steve: Yes. It kind of does.

The train compartment is quiet again. The sound of the train passing over the tracks is deafening.

Steve: Irene. Do you believe that love can happen without the material body? Do you think that one needs a body to love? I mean, look at the Christians. Their God has no body but they still love him.

Irene looks at her fingers and stays quiet.

Steve: Does love truly end when a person dies?

Irene: I don’t know. [small pause] Do you want to talk about her?

Steve: It’s a long story.

Irene stares outside the window and smiles:  It’s a long journey.

[End Scene 1]

[Scene

The date is May 25, 1941. A younger Steve walks into a tent filled with the wounded. The scene is chaos, as many are wounded and dying. Britain and her allies struggle to defend the town of Dunkirk. The Germans are closing in. Overhead the sounds of German Luftwaffe engines drone the sky and herald the arrival of nearby explosions.

Steve: My, this is lovely. Nothing like the stench of death in the morning and the threat of even more death in the afternoon to make a man appreciate that he’s not dead yet.

Steve walks amongst the rows of wounded civilians lying on the ground. He sees a pretty nurse with brown hair bandaging a bleeding solider.

Steve: Hello Mary.

Mary: Hi Steve. I’m too busy for the chit-chat. What do you want?

Steve staring: Nothing my love.

Mary: Sorry, I don’t have time for this. Everyone’s in a rush to evacuate from here. They say the Germans and the Italians are finally coming.

Steve: So I’ve heard. But didn’t the Royal Navy already evacuate most of the troops?

Mary: This is a city Steve.  In case you forgot, the causalities of war also include those who didn’t fight; those who weren’t evacuated.

Steve: Such a shame. But this is war. In war, there is always a casualty.  Someone must die, someone must live.

Mary: You’re heartless.

Steve: I’m only being human.

Mary slowly lays the wounded soldier’s head to the ground: He’s not going to make it. His vitals are too low; he’s lost too much blood.

Steve: He died for a cause. That’s cause enough for itself.

Mary turning to face him: Sometimes, I don’t understand how I fell in love with such a heartless monster.

Steve affronted: Heartless? War is the organized labor of man to answer the need of conquest or public safety. There are the manufacturers who produce the armaments, the generals who decide the battle, and the soldiers who fight and die in the battles. 

Mary: And the mothers and daughters who cry when their sons and fathers don’t come home.

Steve: War is unfortunate Mary.

Mary: It’s more than unfortunate, it’s evil.

Steve: It’s an evil needed for the good of the public; for safety, or for conquest.

Mary disgusted: I don’t want to discuss philosophy with you. I have more people to tend to.

Steve: But it’s not the only answer.

Mary: What do you mean?

Steve: I can’t tell you. Due to the nature of my work, if I told you, you would never see me again.

Mary jokingly: If you won’t tell me, you’ll never see me again.

Steve: Anyway, that’s why I came here. I have some bad news to deliver.

Mary: And here I thought I was the only one with bad news.

Steve shocked: You’re not pregnant now are you?

Mary slyly: What? How can that be a bad thing?

Steve: Well, there’s the sudden responsibility, the whole life changing thing, and the feeling that another life is completely, hopelessly dependent on you.

Mary: But a baby’s a bundle of joy! It’s the responsibility that would make it more fun.

Steve exasperated: The responsibility’s not even the hardest part!

Mary amused: What’s the hardest part?

Steve: Coming up with a good name!

Mary: Would you leave me if I told you I was having a baby?

Steve: No, of course not! But if it’s a boy, I get to name him! I will name him Carl!

Mary (laughing): Of all the names, you choose that one. Fine. If it’s a girl I will name him Carol.

Steve playfully: That’s no fun. You can’t name her Carol if I’m naming her Carl! We have to have variety!

Mary: But that’s not the bad news.

Steve stops in mid-celebration: Wait. You’re not pregnant?

Mary: I am.

Steve: Then what’s the bad news?

Mary quietly: I’m leaving.

Steve: What?

Mary: I’m being deployed to work in the Philippines.

Steve: What? No! Tell them no! You’re pregnant!

Mary: It’s more than that. I want to go.

Steve: But…

Mary: I want to make a difference.

Steve swivels his arms around the tent: You are!

Mary: Europe will always have wounded and dying. So will the Philippines. The only difference is that Europe has plenty of nurses who can tend to the wounded. Philippines doesn’t have that.

They stay silent for a little while. Steve looks at Mary. Mary tries to look away. Steve lightly puts her hand on a shoulder and they both look at one another.

Steve exasperated, but with a small smile on his face: I know you. Once you’ve made up your mind, there’s no changing it.

Mary: That’s why I love you.

Steve: I love you too. Just be careful OK?

Mary: Of course I will.  (Looks expectantly at her flat stomach) I’m watching out for two now. By the way, you did say you had some news?

Steve takes a paper from his pocket rips it and hands her the pieces: Yes, here.

Mary: What’s this?

Steve: It’s your plane ticket to New Mexico. I was going to tell you that because of my work we’ll be leaving for America.

Mary: Oh, Steve…

Steve: Hush. I know, I know. I should’ve told you from the start. But no, it’s too late now.  I want you to live your dream.

Mary beginnings to falter: Steve…

Steve steadies and embraces her: Just remember, no matter what happens I love you. I love you both.

Mary softly crying: I love you too.

[End Scene II]

Narration. In the background, scenes of battles in World War II.

Narrator: And so it came to be that we parted for the opposite corners of the world. Mary deployed to aid the allies stand against the Japanese onslaught a month after Japan attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941.  That was the last time I heard from her.

I would have been worried, and remembering it now, I’d like to think I was. But the shameful truth was, I was too busy. The world could not wait for my little worries. The world was changing, history was being written and I was one of the writers.

I left a week after our little turning point in Dunkirk. I went to New Mexico to work with other brilliant minds who shared the common vision in changing the process of war for the better.


[Scene III]

The date is August 9, 1945. A small concrete bunker stands atop a hill overlooking the Jornada del Muerto Desert in New Mexico. The night is littered with stars as three figures stand inside the bunker watching the desert landscape intently. They all have binoculars. Steve holds a clipboard and confers with Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer.

Steve: Finally doctor! We can taste the fruit of our labors! Aren’t you excited?

Oppenheimer: I am. But I am a little afraid.

Steve jokingly: Why doctor? We’ve calculated the statistics and we’ve run the experiments. There is only a very small probability that splitting an atom would lead into a chain reaction that would ultimately ignite the atmosphere and end all life in the world. No pressure!

Oppenheimer laughs silently:  It’s not that. Can you imagine, we are standing at the very edge. The world may not know it yet, but history will be our witness to what we accomplish tonight.

Steve: All the better! We will go down as men of history!

Oppenheimer small pause then in a hushed voice: But for what? Do you realize doctor, that we are creating a weapon with boundless killing potential?

Steve: With all respect Doctor, you sure picked a hell of a time to start worrying about morality.

Oppenheimer flustered: Do you not understand what this weapon means? The deaths of many people will be on our heads! We are no longer playing with numbers of figures anymore Doctor, but with lives! Human lives!

Steve: But do you Doctor, know what this means? With this weapon, war will be obsolete!

Oppenheimer angered voice: At what cost? We will be the butchers of fathers, of sons, of daughters! We are on the verge of murder on a massive scale! Are you even human!?

Steve voice rising: Yes, but we are on the verge of ending war! There will no longer be a need to send men into the machine of war!

Oppenheimer: And so what? A weapon that would kill innocents is better?

Steve: There is always a casualty in war. With this final casualty, we will make war obsolete.

Oppenheimer: Who would stop man from making a bigger weapon? Who would stop other men from using this weapon to destroy the world? Is this any better than war?

Steve: We will stop man from making a bigger weapon. The world will know our nation’s strength.  Through mutual fear, we can prevent war.

Oppenheimer: Fear…is never an answer.

Steve: And you, a man of science believe in love? How can that stop war?

Oppenheimer angry voice: That is your solution then? We will make man stop war through fear? Through even more death? Through murder?  We will never be forgiven for unleashing this monster upon man!

Steve quietly: If we kill war, the world will forgive us doctor.

Oppenheimer as an orange mushroom cloud blossoming is reflected on his goggles:
Yes, but will God forgive us?


[End Scene III]


Narration. Pictures of the battle of Stalingrad, D-Day, the liberation of Paris, the surrender of Germany play in the background.

Narrator: And so it came to be. The Manhattan Project was a success. From our labor we finally had our product. We had a product that can destroy cities, slaughter millions, and ultimately change the course of history.

We, the creators believed it would end war for good. Our purpose was an altruistic one. We wished to end the suffering caused by war. As such, history remembers our contribution in history.

We did end World War II.

The victors hailed us as heroes, the brilliant minds of our time who prevented more needless deaths. Others branded us murderers. The butchers of humanity. The killers of Nagasaki and Hiroshima. The creators of the second Holocaust.

I didn’t care for each. I just wanted to consider myself human again.


[Scene IV]

In a hospital two nurses are attending to a patient. Wounded from shrapnel from an explosion, both his legs are amputated. The nurses check his dressings and help him onto a wheelchair.

Mary: That’s it for Mr. Taichou-San.

Janice: Yes. Thank you. Even though it wasn’t your shift, you still came to help. We appreciate it.

Mary: It’s no problem. I came here to help you see.

Janicein disbelief: An American helping us Japanese?

Mary pouting: I’m not American. I’m French.

Janice: Ok. French then.

Mary: You being Japanese doesn’t make any difference in my ability to help.

Janice: You don’t harbor any ill will to us when we captured your hospital in the Philippines, killed your patients, and nearly raped you?

Mary: You didn’t capture me. You didn’t kill my patients. Your country did.

Janice: So you harbor ill will for my country then?

Mary: No. I don’t harbor any ill will at all.

Janice: Excuse me for being frank Mary-san, but I find it hard to believe you don’t hate my country for what we did to you.

Mary: Can you judge a country by its citizens? What is a country? I find it hard to believe that over three million Japanese citizens wanted to kill my patients.

Janice:  True. But someone has to be at blame for this.

Mary: You can’t blame the people.

Janice: Then who can you blame?

Mary: I blame war.

Janice: You can’t blame war. You must mean the people who made the war? The leaders?

Mary: Even though some of your people killed my patients and captured me. Some of your people also pleaded for my safety and allowed me to be here.

Janice: But…that still doesn’t excuse the way we acted!

Mary: Your people might have done terrible things. But so have we. Likewise, we are all capable of doing something good. For one, I am thankful that your people gave my daughter a bright future. 

Janice: Then, if we can’t blame my country or your country, then we really can blame war?

Mary: A friend of mine once told me that war is a labor in which a society of people perform for a common need, most of which is either for security or for conquest.

Janice: Your friend is very smart.

Mary: He’s a scientist.

Janice blushing: Ooh, An overseas lover? The father of your child?

Mary: Yes. He’s somewhere in America now. I don’t know where or even if he’s alive. I’ve sent him letters, and postcards but he hasn’t replied to either of them.

Janice: Sounds like a no-life husband.

Mary: No. He loves me. I know he does. It must be because of his work. He said his work was very secretive.

The sound of anti-aircraft fire coming from the coast somewhere near the hospital breaks into the conversation.

Janice frightened eyes: Are you scared?

Mary:  I am. I’m scared for my daughter.

Janice: Where is she now?

Mary: She’s with her uncle. I’m afraid she won’t have a mother anymore.

The sound of the anti-aircraft gun is overshadowed as a loud siren begins to buzz loudly.

Janice: Do you believe the rumors that the Americans had developed a weapon that can destroy a city?

Mary: I do.

Janice: Then aren’t you scared?

The siren gets louder. A voice yells in Japanese “ATTENTION, ATTENTION. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY UNDERGROUND. FIND SHELTER.”

Mary serenely, almost as if in a daze: I am. But not as much as I thought I’d be.

Janice flustered:  Why?

Mary: I don’t know.

The siren gets drowned out. A powerful wind blows directly at the hospital. The windows shatter, the blinds flail about loosely, separate from the walls and fly around. Patients yell, but their voices are barely audible over the loud wind.

Mary in a voice only she can hear: Steve. I love you.

A bright orange flash glows outside a window from a mile away. In a second it reaches the hospital and annihilates everything. The light, brighter than that of five hundred suns is blinding. The building crumbles and there is no more.

[End Scene IV]

[Scene V]

Steve: So that’s it. That’s what’s been on my mind.

Irene in tears and on her third cup of coffee: That’s….. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.

Steve: I know.

Irene after a small pause: How did you know? How did you know she was there?

Steve gesturing towards the papers on the table: These were the postcards she sent me. The government thought she was a spy. They didn’t release them to me until a few weeks ago when the project officially became declassified.

Irene in a choked sob: That’s…horrible!

Steve breaking down slowly into tears, Irene reaches out to hug him: I know. I know. God. Why?  Why did she have to be there? Why?

Irenelightly touching Steve’s hand: I’m so sorry Steve.

Steve through the sobs: I know. I know.

Irene angered: They kept you from your wife! All these years of not knowing…how could they have done this?

Steve breaking through the embrace and looking at Irene directly: But there’s something they did do right. There’s something that she and I got out of this horrible war.

Irene: ….


[ End Scene V ]

It is raining at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial. Steve, wearing black attire and Irene supporting a black umbrella are the only people in attendance. In the corner of the memorial stands a small marker reading “HERE LIES A NURSE, FOREIGN TO THE PEOPLE BUT TRUE TO HER NATURE OF CARING”

Steve struggling to keep himself from crying: I’m sorry Mary. I’m so sorry. Even though you’re no longer here, I still had to find you, tell you I need you, tell you that I should’ve…If I had known. I wish I can go back to the start. You were right. (Looking at Irene) You were the only one who truly made a difference in this world. I love you Mary.

Irene sobbing: I love you Mom.