Argonaut
A Play in One Act
Setting/ Viewing port of space vessel, Calabash Nebula, 5,000 light years from Earth
An Astronaut/ male, athletic form, military haircut, middle-aged, nude
The Voice of the Nebula/ disembodied, female, precise, authoritative
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Alone, an unnamed traveler through space with no recollection of who he is or why he’s here observes a yellow nebula through the viewing port of his vessel, the Argo. Following his stream-of-consciousness thoughts, with interjections by a disembodied or internal feminine voice he interprets as the nebula’s voice, his monologue questions identity, place, existence, solitude, and time. By the end of the scene, the lonely astronaut accepts his fate and his interconnection with all things.
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1st Scene
A nude man is bathed in rich yellow light, almost as though he’s encased in bright amber. He stands alone before a large floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out at a golden-yellow nebula adrift beside his spacecraft. His muscular arms hang at his sides, hands empty.
The Voice in the Nebula/ OH 231.84 +422.
The Astronaut/ This place. This nebula. I’ll never forget the name.
The Voice in the Nebula/ OH 231.84 +422.
The Astronaut/ OH 231.84 +422. OH 231.84 +422.
The Voice in the Nebula/ OH 231.84 +422.
The Astronaut/ OH 231.84 +422. How can someone name God? Still, I always refer to this nebula as OH 231.84 +422. Never could I have imagined that a series of numbers could come to mean so much to me. Too much.
The Voice in the Nebula/ O-H. O-H.
The Astronaut/ Bright yellow; 1.4 light-years in length. That’s 8.23 trillion miles. Mathematical equations are the only way the human mind can comprehend such a distance. It’s almost meaningless, isn’t it? It almost means nothing. Almost …
The Voice in the Nebula/ Meaningless. OH 231.84 +422222.
The Astronaut/ QX Puppis is the binary star system associated with this incomprehensibly vast banner of lemony nebulous light. I think it’s dying. Maybe it’s dying.
The Voice in the Nebula/ 22222. Meaningless. Meaningless. O-H. Meaningless.
The Astronaut/ Sometimes, it’s hard to remember who I am, what I am. What I’m doing here … here. This place. Maybe it’s beyond that now.
The Voice in the Nebula/ Meaningless. Now meaningless.
The Astronaut/ I don’t know how long I’ve looked deep into these yellowed mists of chemical processes, dust, radiation, and time. It’s like I’ve been consumed. I am made to devour.
The Voice in the Nebula/ Time. Devour … time.
The Astronaut/ Time?
The Voice in the Nebula/ Time. 22222. Time. 22222. Meaningless time. O-H. 231. O-H. Meaningless. H. Time + Meaningless time. 22222.
The Astronaut/ Distance?
The Voice in the Nebula/ Distance. Devour. Distance. Distance.
The Astronaut/ Yes. About 5,000 light years. That’s how far this place is from home. I think. From home …
The Voice in the Nebula/ Home.
The Astronaut/ Home?
The Voice in the Nebula/ OH 231.84 +422. Time. Home. Meaningless. 22222. Meaningless. Devour. Meaningless home + time.
The Astronaut/ Home. Another meaningless construct.
The Voice in the Nebula/ Time construct. Meaningless home. OH 231.84 +422. +422. +422 + devour + + + …
The Astronaut/ Argo. A name comes to me. Argo. Argo. This vessel. This hulk, its metallic flesh ridden with synthetic tributaries. Argo. How did I come to be here in the artificial belly of the Argo? Why? When?
The Voice in the Nebula/ Argo. Argo. Argo. Argo. Home. Meaningless home. Argo. Time. OH 231.84 +422. OH 2222231.84 +422. 22222. 22222. O-H. Argo. Meaningless Argo. Devour Argo.
The Astronaut/ Why am I alone?
The Voice in the Nebula/ Alone. OH 2231.84 +422. Argo alone. O-H. Alone home time. 22222. Devour. Devour. Devour.
The Astronaut/ Where is everyone else?
The Voice in the Nebula/ Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.
The man falls to his knees before the yellow radiance of the window, his head hanging in defeat. He brings his hands to his face and silently weeps into his palms. As he weeps, the voice continues.
The Voice in the Nebula/ Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.
The man slowly lifts his face from his hands and looks forward, extending his hands to the glass. He is still washed in yellow light.
The Astronaut/ Something golden. A womb. Something treasured. Golden light. Yellow light. Yellow sacred light.
The Voice in the Nebula/ OH 231.84 +422.
The Astronaut/ The others. Something. Something. Golden light. The others. I am here now. I suppose I am here.
The Voice in the Nebula/ Here?
The Astronaut/ Here.
The Voice in the Nebula/ Here.
The Astronaut/ Where?
The Voice in the Nebula/ OH 231.84 +422.
The Astronaut/ I am here, in the yellow . I am here. OH 231.84 +422. OH 231.84 +422. I am 29.4 quadrillion miles from my home.
The Voice in the Nebula/ Home?
The Astronaut/ Home.The Voice in the Nebula/ Home. OH 231.84 +422. Alone?
The Astronaut/ No.
The Voice in the Nebula/ Alone?
The Astronaut/ No.
The Voice in the Nebula/ Alone?
The Astronaut (slamming a fist against the glass of the window)/ No! I am not alone! I am not alone. I am not alone. I am not alone. I am not alone. I am not alone. I am … not …
The astronaut weeps very softly for a moment, his forehead leaning against the glass of the window. A silent moment passes. The man relaxes, his fist falling from the window . Still on his knees in the yellow glow, he holds a single hand against the glass.
The Astronaut/ I am home. I am 2.939 × 10¹⁶ miles from home. I am home. I am nowhere. I am home. I am home. I am eternity. I am all there is. I am nothing. I am subatomic particles. I am stardust. I am energy. I am God. I am nothing. I am decay. I am growth. I am the beginning. I am the end.
The Voice in the Nebula/ End. End. End.
The Astronaut/ Parameters are meaningless. Systems are meaningless. Processes are meaningless. These same particles will continue at the end of everything. In my breath are numberless epochs, numberless souls, numberless stories, numberless births and deaths back into the beginning, forward into the next beginning.
The Voice in the Nebula/ Beginning. Beginning. Beginning.
The Astronaut/ Something golden. Something golden. The others. Golden. Golden others. Others, above me, eyes burning like fire. The others, in the gold. Myself. Myself, in gold. Myself, burning in the gold.
The Voice in the Nebula/ Burning. Burning. Burning.
The astronaut remains on his knees before the glass, but his hand falls from the pane. His face is emotionless, vacant.
The Voice in the Nebula (spoken in a hush, as though nervous)/ Jason?
The Astronaut/ Jason. Yes?
The Voice in the Nebula/ Home?
The Astronaut/ Yes, OH 231.84 +422. Yes. I am home.
The Voice in the Nebula/ Alone?
The Astronaut/ Meaningless.
The man, Jason, remains on his knees before the window as the yellow radiance fades to black.
(BLACKOUT)
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THE END
I wish I could drop in the clip from Man of Steel when Zod takes over all the media on Earth to broadcast a single sentence in every language on the planet: YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
That’s what was echoing in my head at the end.
Wow. 😲