 She has been faithful, loyal, and a huge service to us since our conception. I get to do another job then without throwing up the steps. And that is to introduce you to the forum. I think there would be a history matters back to the future without you to the forum. I think that the two with tremendous, I'm sure, long and hard labor, she is responsible for the publication of two anthologies. Now there are three anthologies of women's plays of the past. And have we not known that those anthologies existed, but hint that we had that we were missing something in this world? We haven't had proof of that fact. But given those two remarkable books, we have been able to help, I think, move the plays of the past. When women's plays of the past, we do a mainstream American drama. Judith's dream, like ours and thousands of others, wouldn't have been possible for us to share if it weren't for those books. She's written other books, but I'm not going to go into that. And needless to say, we are very grateful to her. But can you imagine how grateful those ancient women's playwrights of the past must be? Thank you. I'm sorry. This is a wonderful thing that she's decided to tell us tonight. I am very honored and very humbled to have this award named after me. And I'm going to be special with all women after a trip over six or eight names. It has been a big year for women's playwrights. And I've had a lot to see Martina Marge-Majox higher than them, which was co-produced by the women's project, and W. Morrison's amazing, scalable crew. And so, again, I've been walking up to see. There is a study in Eclipse that are equally powerful, familiar, powerful in a very different way. I'll be back in New York. I live in the foreign country. It's called Albany. I have one in the past, but I'll be back next week. I have a ticket for Cuiara Rio, who misses the Japanese dive, which I don't see very much forward to, and I have a ticket for Paul Vogel's new play, Indecent. I also have tickets to a revival, so placed by two women writers who are way ahead of their times, who are in formation and have great candidacy. It's a good time to be a woman playwright. It's a good time to be a woman playwright. It's a good time to be an actress for that reason. Off a lot of wonderful parts. I'd like now to introduce the director of this evening's reading, Jay Carroll, who is no stranger to the canon of women's writing. She's most recently directed Emily Mann's Hally Garseye at Hartford and the Lawn Mower, but she has also directed not so long ago Alice Childress's Wonderful and Fierce Trouble in Moment. So I would like to introduce Jay, who will tell you more about the play and the play. He has to follow. About the amazing women and what a blessing to be honest, the state, the women's project, and what history matters. Standing on some great shoulders and bringing in the next generation of female playwrights. I won't say that much about it, because you're about to see. But Lindsay Jones is a really exciting, promising writer who's just finishing up her first year of graduate school. And the play is a compelling, dystopian coming-of-age story. And it was a great honor to spend the day working on it. And I look forward to more plays that she would bring to the American canon. I'd love to invite the cast up. Pike-Anne Booster. Thank you so much. Prices by Lindsay Adams. In Observation Lab and a Cell, the close teacher who is sitting eyes closed, she is surrounded by darkness. I am Tarzan. I am transplant. I am the boy in the bubble. I am insignificant. I signify nothing. I am nothing. I'm full of the sound and the fury of these four white, sanitized walls. I am raised in the wild of their viewing station. I went from the womb to a plastic tub. Madeline opens her eyes and looks around. Elvis Presley's surrender starts to play. I know you're here. The circle of light widens, revealing the rest of herself. To one side, there is a pile of robotic equipment and pieces of metal, and in any other circumstance, it could be called a pile of debris, but all the pieces are shiny and seem new. To the other side, the king of germs is revealed. He is dressed in a dark coat that falls almost at his feet. He is a regal, charismatic, and fear-inducing figure. He doesn't speak. Don't touch me. Stay away. Leave me alone. He holds his hand out to her as if asking her to dance. She steps back. Without touching, they dance a samba of sorts, spinning and twisting around each other. The dance around the cell speeds up until Madeline breaks away, spinning out and coming to a stop on the opposite side of the cell. He holds out his hand to her again. She shakes her head. He beckons her back. No! He claps suddenly. The sound reverberates, turning into the sound of a heartbeat, which the song now underscores. All around her are hands, reaching out to touch her. She ducks away from them, falling, leaping, crawling to escape them. She falls to the ground. As they close in around her, she screams. The light suddenly shifts, and she is awake. George is revealed behind glass, outside the cell. Madeline? Hello? Are you all right? I don't know who I am. You were screaming. Is that normal? They tell me that everyone is trying to find who they are, that that's a thing that people do. Madeline, I guess since I know your name, it's only fair I tell you mine. You can call me George. Maybe that's why they watch me. I just wanted to introduce myself. They figured out who they are already, so now they want to figure me out, too, but they won't. I won't let them. Madeline, I'm not trying to. That's not why I'm here. They think I'm crazy, but I'm not. I'm smarter than all of them. Sometimes I wonder what is wrong with all of these people that they have nothing better to do than to watch me. Adults are strange. Sometimes I watch. I can watch, too. I pick a spot and stare at it, and stare at it until they ask me what's wrong, what I'm looking at. And I just tell them nothing. Boyle enters outside the cell. Madeline? What? Please stop staring at the wall. But I'm not staring at the wall. Then what are you staring at? Nothing. Then he breathes slowly, like he is barely restraining a sign. Madeline? Yes? You have to stop narrating our conversations. He said with a furrowed brow. Stop. But I understand them better that way. They're going to think you're crazy. I'm not crazy. I hope they agree about that. They? Time for your physical checkup. Scanners turn on and go off in the cell. The light runs up and down Madeline. Arms out. What do you think? About what? Me. Touch your hands to your forehead. Do you think I'm crazy? I need you to look at the finger I'm holding on. Concentrate on it. Hold it. Do you think I'm crazy? No crazier than us. Crazy? Is that the medical term for the condition? You are so very funny, Madeline. Then again, crazy is a very subjective term. Talking to yourself is generally considered crazy across the board. The scanners are treated. All right, everything is looking good. Be back later. Don't get into any trouble while I'm gone, OK? Boyle exits from site. He says that every time. He thinks it's funny. It's not. He doesn't know. I have a plan. You know I can still hear you. What are you talking about? Things you wouldn't understand. OK, then. Who are you talking to? I have been working and working and it's ready. Well, almost. Madeline. I won't get into any trouble, OK? That was a lie. I'm definitely going to get into some trouble. But I'm not going to tell him that. I hate him. The talking to yourself thing, it's got to stop. I'm just a click away if you need anything. I know. Just stop talking to yourself. Don't worry. I'll tell the voices in my head to be quiet. Madeline. Kidding? But I'm not kidding. I see things differently than some people. I see pieces. I see how things fit and how they break and how really everything is just working to keep the pieces fitting. People don't seem to understand any of that. I understand. That's how I made you. She goes to the pile of machinery, tightening a few bolts, adjusting a few pieces. And now you're finally ready. After all the work putting you together, I've been planning and planning in every last piece fits. And all I have to do is wind you up and you'll be here to help me, to help protect me. She starts to connect a piece that is sticking out, almost like winding a clock or a music box. They're there all around me. The pathogens, they're just waiting, waiting for me to mess up. But now, now I have backup and I'll be safe, right? A voice comes from the pile of machinery. Beep. Boom. Hello. What's up, honey? The arm appears, then ahead. The pile transforms into a humanoid robot. I have always been left to my own devices. Mostly because devices are the only things that won't kill me. Do you want me to tell you a secret? I have never sneezed ever. Never ever. I've always wondered what it would be like to sneeze at you. Catching. Bless you, thanks. Thanks. Uh-huh. Do you know what sterile means? It means dead. It means nothing can grow in here. It means the death of anything else that is in here, not me. I am alive in here, even though me being alive means that everything else has to be dead. I don't exist outside of these walls, but everything else doesn't exist in here. So I guess it all evens out kind of sort of. Sterile. Sterilization. Sterilization. Now, the process by which all my pro-organisms, including bacterial spores, are killed. Oh. That's why you're here. I am here. They want revenge. They're coming to get me for all their brethren. I inadvertently killed. I need backup when it happens. It happens. That's where you come in. I need help to defeat them. Who are you? I didn't introduce myself. I'm nobody. Who are you? Nobody. Wait, you're nobody too? That's going to get confusing. They call me Madeline? Madeline. I guess you can too. Madeline, who are you talking to? Nobody. That's reassuring. The observation lab. Boyle and George sit at computers. There is a mini-fridge and a mountain paperwork. Madeline can be faintly seen moving around her cell. There are monitors around the space they use to watch Madeline, as well as a window that looks into the cell. Boyle grabs a yogurt from a mini-fridge and starts eating. I didn't mean to cause a problem. You didn't? I just didn't know what to do. She wasn't responding to me, so I thought I should notify you. I mean, it is procedure. Sure, procedure, right. It just seemed irregular. I wish. But no, she actually does it pretty often. Interesting. Not really, but you're new. So she routinely talks to herself? Uh-huh. Anything else I should know? Well, she doesn't sleep well. Yeah, I picked up on that. Nightmares, I'm getting worse. Have you prescribed anything? They want us to let it play out. They want us to let it play out. I'll go in with you for the next checkup. Try to ease the transition. What? I wasn't expecting this. I know what you were expecting. High security lab, rigorous testing in interviews, and now this is the payoff? Yes, well, I just thought that the space would be larger. She's the only one left. No need for next-core to keep the whole facility running. I guess, yeah, I was just surprised. The glamorous thrill of the job wears off quick, huh? No, I just meant the cell. It doesn't seem like the most conducive environment. Don't get ahead of yourself. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. Just a thought. We'll learn pretty quick here to keep those to yourself. That's what I do. Does she ever spy on you? What? I've been watching her for hours. She hasn't swung. Huh? So does she? I don't know, probably. You're not sure. I mean, no. I'm sure she does sometimes. You just haven't noticed either way. Look, some advice. Don't let yourself get sucked in, obsessing over her and her. Like, I get it. It's easy because there's nothing else to do, but. That's my job, though. No, it's not. Excuse me? Listen, here's the real job description. You monitor her, do the times check-ins, and report it to me. Then all the information gets sent out to someone much higher up on the food chain. You're essentially a glorified babysitter to that bonkers little girl down there. Honestly, she doesn't really need one. Not like there's anywhere she can go, but there it is. There it is. Sorry, sweetie. Didn't mean to burst your bubble. Don't worry, you didn't. Pick up Tetris. It's going to be your best friend in here. He finishes his yogurt and shoots it into the trash can. My body hates me. I don't mean that in videos how two girls say that to each other, the anorexic girls or the fat girls, like after they throw up or run on those weird rant machines and they look into a mirror and say that to themselves. They are liars. I am stupid and I hate them. I hate them. You do, too? I think. Do you? I can actually say that my body hates me because basically the immune cells of the body are over-enthusiastic and somewhat incompetent and attack their own cells because they are very bad at their job. Very bad. Exactly. So essentially, my cells are trying to destroy each other because they see each other as a threat. Waged in a civil war, a brother killing brother, even though they all just want to help. Quite sad, actually. Quite sad. I'm glad you're here. I am here. You can't ever leave. Leave? No, don't. Be. No. Be. No, no, no, not again. She cracks him. Are you sleepy? Sleepy. Me neither. Do you want to read a story? Story. I read on this tablet because pages of books carry residue and germs and death. I've always wondered what flipping the pages of a book feels like. What touching someone's cheek feels like. May I touch your face? Your face? Is that a yes? It's cold. What is cold? Are you cold in there? Did I raise the room temperature? No, it's fine. OK. What is cold? Your face. I'm sorry. No, it's all right. George enters the observation lab. She sees Madeline playing. She watches for a moment, then exits. Your turn. Your turn. No, I'm going to follow you. Follow. You. You. You. Me. I was busy before. Really? During what? Nothing. I don't think that's true. What you think doesn't matter. Excuse me? He hasn't told you yet? He tells everyone that. How do you? You'll be gone soon. None of you last very long. What do you mean? The doctors. None of you stay long, except for him. I don't know why they don't say goodbye. They just disappear. I'm trying to understand the pattern, but I don't. I don't have this one yet. But I always understand them, eventually. Maybe you'll leave, and it'll all fall into place, and everything will make sense. Maybe. But I don't plan on leaving any time soon. I don't think it'll be up to you. You think a lot. There's not much else to do in here. You have things to read, and watch, and play with. Yes. All the things. Do you like your room? I was actually in the middle of something. So did I. But I interrupted my busy schedule to come and talk to you. You're busy schedule watching me. We call it monitoring, actually. Same thing. Not exactly. Monitoring means you get paid for it. Why are you talking to me? My mother always told me that there are two things you should never do alone. Drink and laugh. Why are you talking to me? It felt strange me sitting around in silence, watching you down here laughing. Doesn't that seem silly to you? Are you going to ignore me now? I'm busy. But I thought you were doing nothing. I was thinking. Did I interrupt? Yes. Do you know what I think? No, that's impossible. I think you're very smart, and you know it. You know it. No, Alan, you don't get to shush me. I'm an adult. I didn't. Don't try to play games with me. Games? Play with them. No, I'm not the enemy here. We aren't as different as you think. That's what all the doctors say, and it's never true. George, can I see over here? Yes, yes, of course. Quickly. I'll talk to you later. Later. Lights dim on Madeline and the robot. Lights up on the observation lab. Isn't it a bit early for a checkup? Actually, it wasn't a checkup. Then why were you down there? You can tell me if she did something wrong. What? Don't protect her. I'm not. We were just talking. There wasn't an emergency, no behavioral issues, really. Just. She was laughing. What? Running around in circles, laughing at the top of her lungs. Wow, she's getting worse. Boil starts loading up the mini fridge with yogurt. Oh, hey, do you need to put anything in here? Well. Cool, thanks. I'll just fill it up then. Oh, and can you print out the first three pages of the monthly report? Why? Just wondering. Her mother is coming in today. Wait, I thought that was, wasn't that next week? It was, but she started getting pushy about seeing her. You know, typical? Well, it makes sense. She has scheduled appointments for a reason. Don't even know why she keeps coming at all. Boil opens the yogurt. She's Madeline's mother. That's what she always tells me, over and over again. You'll understand what I mean when you monitor the visit to them. Whoa, I'm really not sure I'm ready to do it. Of course you are. I mean, you're a. What? Hopefully you can deal with her. Is there anything I should know? The initial training process, rainy group procedures, right? More or less, but. Cool then. It should be good. And she'll be here. How are some? Thanks for the heads up. No problemo. I keep an eye on her. Last time she tried to get into our records. Oh, and monitor the visit closely. Of course. She's been known to say things to Madeline that. Yes. Things that upset her. If she starts talking to Madeline about leaving, cut her off. Tell her she's running out of time. For Madeline's own good. Right. I'll check back in with you later. I got a meeting. Sure. I appreciate it. Just get her the paperwork and get her out. All right. And tell her no more rescheduling visits. She can learn about how to follow the rules. Got it. Boil shoots his yogurt at the trash can, but it rolls off the rim and lands on the floor. Well, I'm ready for my meeting. The cell. Madeline and Robott are watching something on your tablet screen. Alayna enters the space outside Madeline's cell. Everything? How are you? Just peachy. Where do you pick this stuff up? Surfing. Not like on the ocean, like on the web. I got mad. Good. So you like going online? Yes. Because you can learn from it? I guess. What have you been learning? Things, things, things. What kind of thing? Lots of things. That's why I said it three times. OK. Anything in particular? Oh, such as? Building robots. Wow, that is unexpected. Was that hard? Kind of. I'd never do something like that myself. I wouldn't even know where to start. You're such a smart kid. Don't worry, it's not just you. I'm smarter than most people. Are you comfortable in here? Sure. Do you like it here? I guess so. Do you? Do you ever want to leave? Why? Please just tell me. You have one minute left. Why are you saying that? I want to make sure you understand. Understand what? Time to start running up. I don't need help understanding this. I know, Maddie. That's not my name. Don't call me that. I don't like that. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just missed you. You said that already. Madeline goes back to Washington to tablet. Elena puts her hand against the glass. I'll see you next month then for sure. Elena exits to the observation lab. Hello. Next month, a visit is scheduled for the 15th same time as usual. George wins Elena the Pages. She doesn't want to see me. I'm sure that's not true. It's true. No, it's true. I wouldn't take it personally. How am I not supposed to take it? I just personally like Madeline growing up in this kind of environment interacting differently with outside world. There are a lot of things there. I know what you mean. Every time I'm here, a new coat tells me all about the factors. Tells me it's not my fault. She doesn't love me. Your relationship, lady, didn't write that down. Don't tell me about my relationship with my child. I understand this. No, you don't. You don't understand what it's like. I'm only trying to help. No. You are trying to get me out of the room. Just follow my procedure. You can shove your procedures. I have to talk to my daughter through blasts and even then, next core only lets me see her once a month. That was part of your agreement. Is that what they told you? I was agreed. I'm sure you were. Next core offered you a new life, you and Madeline. Wow. I think you actually believed that. Really snowed you, haven't they? Look, I wanted to figure out how to travel with Madeline just like you do. That's why we are here. We're here because I was a scared teenager with a baby and nowhere to turn. I couldn't afford her condition. And next core had the paperwork ready to go. And you were able, through the program, to get help. With help. Help? They didn't care about helping. It was never about helping. Madeline. What else would it be about? They were trying to clean the blood off their hands. A few non-disclosure forms and nobody finds out their dirty little secret. I don't know what you're talking about. Whatever helps you sleep at night. You need to leave now. They infect everything around them. Boil to the observation lab, please. Next core turns my daughter into a lab rat. Your daughter would be dead if it weren't for this program. She might as well be. Because she doesn't call you mommy? Because she isn't happy. She doesn't want this and the trial anytime. But she doesn't know that. Stop this now, Oleg. Or what? We'll restrict your visits. You wouldn't dare. Want to test me? Actually, we can. No. A contract. Read the small print. If next core decides your hazardous to the operation, we can stop the visits. And we will. See, you seem to think these visits are something that's owed to you. That's a mistake. These visits are something we're kind enough to allow you. A little gratitude would be in order. Gratitude. I'll speak out. I will, you son of a bitch. I will go public. I'd think before you say anything else. Some things you can't take back. And there are those in next core less forgiving than me. You can't go to the press because you don't have anything. And we both know it. So you won't be discussing what we're doing here with the press, indicating that we are in some way imprisoning matter. Because that would end very badly for you. Very badly. You think you can threaten anyone that gets in your way? Don't think of it as a threat. Think of it as a warning. You want to continue to see your daughter, don't you? That's what I thought. So how about you pull yourself together and get out of here? You don't have children, do you? I fail to see how that's relevant to this discussion. For trusting you people. I'm sorry. You had one job. I know. What did I tell you? Not a rhetorical question. To get her to paperwork. And get her out. Yes. I just got called out of a meeting with my boss. I am sorry. You want to explain that to him? I didn't think so. I'm not sure this is working out. What? There's no shame in just, you know. I know that, but that's not what. It's too much for you to handle. I can see if we have something else. More your speed. I can do this job. I need to handle this. Then you need to get with the program. ASA. I will. Absolutely. Because so far. I know it has not been. I'm not really feeling it. I will 100% be on board with the program. I promise. To the letter. Yes. Seriously. No more chats with Madeline. You go down there for three things. You get me? If her vitals are off, one, if her vitals are off, two, daily checkups. And what? You said nothing. I thought you were going to say something else. Listen to what I'm saying. I am. I need you to focus. And I need you to stop being so interested. I shouldn't be interested in Madeline. Not personally, no. I'm not. You don't seem disinterested. Stay disinterested. You have to. I recognize that. You need to talk to her about something. Do it over the buzzer, OK? Like I do. Cool. I feel like we know what you need to do moving forward, right? I think so, yeah. I really don't like doing this, OK? Being all, don't make me do it again. You won't have to. Sure. I'm sure. I need to get back to it. Can you finish out the shift in here? Do you break what happens? Of course. Don't forget. This is for Madeline's own good. I know. Boil exits. George sits down and starts to type into a computer. In the cell, Madeline and the robot are playing. Did the woman leave? Did she leave? Are you talking to me, Madeline? Who else would I be talking to? Me. Sorry, what were you asking? Did the woman leave? The woman? The one who calls herself my mother? She is your mother. Mother? Mothers or people are supposed to be someone you like. Not always. Do you want me coming again next month? Fine. George puts her hand over the buzzer. What am I doing? George moves away and goes back to the buzzer and pushes it. Happy? What do you mean? Are you happy in here? No. What do you mean by happy? Just, I don't know how to, like, live in here. Do you like it? I have to be in here. We are here. Because going outside, outside is bad. Outside. No. But do you like being here? I, I. What? You don't have to have an answer. Yes, I do. Have an answer or yes, you like living here? Yes. To both. Yes, I think. It's not about thinking, it's about how you feel. I don't understand this conversation. I don't like this conversation. I don't want to talk to you. I'm sorry. The woman who comes, she comes and talks to me, and then she cries, and I don't like it. And I want her to stop, to stop crying. And she asks me sometimes, do I want to leave? And I don't understand that question. I don't understand it. Of course I don't want to leave. I would die. Why would I want to die? She tells me I can leave whenever I want to leave, just to let her know. And I ask, why? She says that. And she says, she's trying to make me understand. And I say, understand what? And she says, Madeline, I just want you to be sure you know this is your life. I know it's my life. You can decide things. Who else's life would it be? That just doesn't make sense. Never mind. You don't make sense. Madeline. She says, in frustration. Please don't. Her frustration builds. No, Madeline, I am not frustrated. I am just. I'm tired. It's been a long day. Are some days longer than others? How do you know when they are? How do you keep track? I mean that I just have a lot of work to do. You can buzz me if you want. I don't want to buzz you. That's your pluriculum, but I'll be here. I am here. George takes her hand off the button. Maybe later. George starts reading through the reports. She stops and goes back to another paper on her desk and compares the two, looking to stir. Sometimes I feel like I have no body. Like, I sit here until my legs are numb and it feels like they disappear, and then I stare at the wall and stare and stare and it's like I'm floating. Like I'm suspended by a string that goes all the way into the ceiling, into the ceiling, over that ceiling, whatever that is, and it's like I don't exist. I don't feel the eyes on me or the camera with the eyes in them that follow me. Not anymore. It's just me and the string, and it's me, too. And you. You can float with me. They want to be a part of it, but they aren't. They can't be. To me. Or not. To be. To sleep. Sleeping. I don't think you can, actually. I want to sleep. No, you don't. I don't. Sleep means dreaming, and dreams are when he comes. And he knows when I'm the weakest, when that's why he comes there. That's why he's there. He's there. Always. I try never to close my eyes, because he knows, because he comes and I can't stop him. As if he has been summoned, the king of germs appears. The robot sees him. He's there. Exactly. He's there. That's what I said. What I said. I said it first. He's there. What, are you glitching? No glitch. There. The robot points to where the king of germs is standing. As surrender starts to play, the king of germs clears his throat, trying to get her attention. No. Go away. Go away. Away. Away, away, away. Madeline starts crying. The king of germs pulls an absurdly large red handkerchief out of his breast pocket. He offers it to Madeline, taking a step toward her. The robot steps in front of Madeline, shielding her. The king of germs holds the handkerchief out to one side and flicks his wrist, rippling the fabric. The robot charges at him, but the king of germs sidesteps at the last moment. The king of germs moves towards Madeline, who is curled up and shaking. Beep. The king of germs turns as the robot charges him again. He sidesteps, and the robot kisses as he's in the observation lab. George is typing into her computer. We see Madeline in the screen. She is shaking in the fetal position. She appears alone in her cell crying. The king of germs claps and the hands appear. They restrain the robot. The sound of a heartbeat builds toward a crescendo. George sees Madeline on the screen. Madeline? The king of germs moves towards Madeline. Madeline, is everything all right? The observation lab goes dark as the king of germs keeps moving closer to Madeline. Wake up, Madeline. Madeline. No way! Don't touch me! George appears outside Madeline's cell. Madeline! The king of germs and the hands disappear. Your heartbeat was elevated off the charts. What were you dreaming about? It was another nightmare, wasn't it? Am I dreaming? No, you were dreaming, but not anymore. Now you're back, and you're safe. I'm safe. That's right. He's not here. He's not here. Oh, we have to. He's gone. Who's gone? Nobody. If it was nobody, then why are you cowing in the corner? I'm not the person you should be worried about here. Look, look, I need your help, Madeline. How? You do? See, I got in trouble. I get in trouble all the time. Yeah, but I got in really big trouble. Why? I messed up. Don't do that, Ben. Thanks, Madeline. I'll remember that. If you need someone to help, you could get a robot. What? Mine isn't that good, but we're working on that. Your robot, is that who you talk to? Why are you asking? I'm just curious. Did he want to know? Did he ask you to ask me? You're on his side, aren't you? I'm not on anyone's side. I'm disinterested. If you're disinterested, why did you ask? No, disinterested means it doesn't mean I'm not interested. It means impartial. I'm not stupid. Of course not. I know what impartial means. She knows what impartial means. Impartial, adjective, not partial or biased, fair, just. Madeline, I just wondered who you were talking to. Nothing. Nothing and nothing. You don't have to tell me. It can be yours, if there's nothing. George Hexins. Madeline pushes the robot over. Beep. I don't want to hear it. Blow. You were supposed to help me, to protect me from him, the king of jerbs. You didn't do anything. Do anything? Yes, like stop him. Stop him. We have to figure something out, a plan. Together. Together. The observation lab. Boyle watches Madeline. You can't be crazy. I've spent so much time convincing them that you're not. And if you are, what would the point be? This can't be the future. We've got bets running on you. You know that? A group of grown people taking bets on how much longer to go last or as poor something gets to you, like the rest. Or maybe you'll win. Maybe you'll live out, live in here for the rest of your life until you crack. You have no idea how much is riding in front of you. You're the last one. Our last chance. Shit. She's got me talking to myself now. Boyle gets a yogurt out and looks at it, then returns it to the mini fridge. He goes to a hiding place where he keeps a stash of junk food. He grabs a handful of snowballs and starts eating them. In the cell, the robot starts doing push-ups with Madeline sitting on his back. Boyle starts playing Tetris. You can play tomorrow, Madeline. It's time to sleep now. The observation lab goes dark. Sleep now. All right, then. All right, then. Surrender begins to play. Oh, no. He's here. Stop it. Stop it. I'm serious. I'm serious. It isn't a game. This isn't? The King of Germs appears behind the robot and taps him on his shoulder, like he is cutting in on a dance. Me? The King of Germs holds out his hand to Madeline. The robot shakes its head. The King of Germs steps toward Madeline. The robot blocks him. They have a stare down. Bloop. The King of Germs tries to push the robot out of the way. The robot doesn't give an inch. The King of Germs tries to push the robot again harder this time. His hands bounce right off the robot. The robot pushes in with one hand, palm spread in the center of his chest. The King of Germs goes flying back. They fight. Madeline's fevered impression of fisticuffs. While they fight, their shadows seem to fill the stage. The robot gains the upper hand and is about to punch out the King of Germs when buzzer sound. Good morning, sleepyhead. Madeline wakes up. Rise and sign. So what do you want to listen to today? Rainy day it is then. The sound of rain starts. Bloop. The whale enters with his clipboard and pen. Time for your checkup. No, away. How I've missed is little checks. Arms out. The scanners turn on. OK, touch your hands to your forehead. I need you to look at the finger I'm holding up. Concentrate on it. Hold it. All right, it's all looking good. Except for the whole thing where my immune system doesn't work and I die if I leave. Yeah, except for that. Wait, what did you say? My immune system doesn't work. Yeah, other than that. Nothing. Why are you eating your pen? I'm not. Then why are you chewing on your pen? It's just an absent mind. Why is the pen in your mouth, though? Did you forget it was there? No. There's no reason, OK? Then why would you put it in your mouth? That's gross. Look, it's out of my mouth. Are you happy now? I don't know. Don't get into any trouble when I'm gone, OK? OK? They're so strange. Madeline. They make me listen to the sound of rain I can't feel and then they ask me if I'm happy. Stop that, Madeline. I mean it. Happy. Happy. I don't know. You tell me. Why not? You don't know. Yes. You don't know. You don't know. Madeline pulls a piece out of the machinery of its leg and it falls over. Ow. I'm not even sorry. She drops the piece. The robot picks it up. Do. Stop repeating me. I wasn't. I wanted to. Apologize. Apologize. Verb. Express regret for something that one has done wrong. Example, after the robot was mean to Madeline, it made sure to apologize so she didn't dismantle it. Very sorry. Much apologize. Good morning. What? No yogurts today? What? Nothing. I have to. I'll be back. I'll be here. Boil exits, leaving his computer on. George goes over to it, searching for something stored there. She finds it. The observation lab goes dark. They have lamps in here to keep me warm. To give me the vitamins. Do you have vitamins? Vitamins are important. Necessary. That's what they say. Light gives you vitamins. Apparently. I don't feel the light hitting me. People say they can feel the sun. Hitting them. I don't feel anything. You'd think I could feel it. The light was hitting me and giving me vitamins, but I don't feel the difference. It seems like sunlight should hurt, doesn't it? I mean, the sun is approximately 10,000 degrees Fahrenheit. Sunlight is just radiation. You know, I thought radiation was a bad thing, but they seem to like this kind. Don't feel my leg. Here. Madeline clicks the part back in place. The robot manages to sit up. Nothing. Are you still in trouble? I'm going to be. Why? Look, we don't have much time. Yes, we do. Boy, we'll be back soon. Where'd he go? It doesn't matter. It doesn't? You weren't the only one. What? You weren't the only one they held in the facility. They kept you separate, isolated. But there were others, other children. Where are they now? What? The children. They're gone. Gone? Where? They, they died. Oh. I'm so sorry. Why? You didn't kill them. The germs, wasn't it? Yes. They always find a way, eventually. King of germs got to them. He got to them already, and that's why he wants me. That's why he's after me. What happened to them wasn't an accident. What? Well, some of them, their immune systems failed. Yes. The rest of them left. Left? How? They walked out of their rooms. Why? Did they think they were fixed? No. I think they wanted to go outside. Outside? Next court never anticipated keeping any of you in here for this long. They assumed they'd find a cure for it before long, but here we are. We are here. I'm telling you this because I'm pretty sure I'm going to get replaced. You're leaving? I don't have a choice, but you do. They walked out? Is something malfunctioning? No. But that means that I can't leave. They won't let me. Well, he never told you because he didn't want you following the others. Next court didn't want to lose you. You were too valuelo tonight. Why are you saying this? You're supposed to keep me here. That's your job. Not anymore. Is this a test? Are you testing me? No, Madeline. No more tests. Just think about what I said. Promise me you will. I want to go outside. But you can't go outside. Why not? Because I can't go outside. Why not? Because I can't. But you can. She said you can. But I'll die. Why? Because I will. Because the immune system... I've told you this before. What does death feel like? Can I die? Now you're not even thinking before you speak. I programmed you better than this. Don't crank me. Don't... What? Don't want to wake up. What do you mean wake up? You're a robot. You can't sleep. I don't want to wake up. You cease. You stop working. You don't sleep. I want to stop working. Yes. But you won't. I made you fit together. I made you perfectly. Not like me. Perfectly. I want to break. Why can't I break? I suppose you can. I've just never tried. Break me. No. Beep. No. Blood. No, you can't leave me here with them. Blood. I won't let you. Madeline cranks the robot and recharges. Do you want to watch something? Beep. Do you want to... What do you want to do? I'm not sure I'm happy. Not happy. You're not happy either? The observation lab. George is at a computer. Boyle enters. She hits a key on her keyboard. How long? How long what? How much long? How much longer did you negotiate? 15 more years of funding. Those are some deep pockets right there. An ex-corner is committed to helping Madeline. Sure they are. I cross-checked the earlier reports. What? The originals. Why wouldn't you do that? I never asked for it. And wow, I found some interesting disparity. I don't know what you're talking about. I've read through all of them, Boyle. What has Nexcorp been doing with Madeline? We've been protecting her. That's what I thought until I read these. You never should have told me about Elena. You left me alone with her. She said some things better. After that, I started looking through the reports. That's why no one stays in my position. The moment they start asking questions, you get rid of them. We have to protect the experiment. Except your experiment is a human being, Boyle. A child. What is going on here? I don't know what you're talking about. Is this why you never told her about the escape crime? She can't know. What? Is it the money starting over again? What? Reasons you won't understand. Look, you didn't have to make the hard decisions. I did. I did what I thought was best. Did you? Did you ever really consider you were doing her to a lifetime of isolation? That maybe you would be able to find a cure. Maybe there is no cure. There is a cure. There has to be a cure. You still have no idea how to fix her, do you? We're getting closer. Next Corps hasn't gotten anywhere. It takes time. She's been here for 11 years. You don't understand. Oh, I understand completely. No, you don't. We had to isolate her. We had no other options. We can't let her go now. We didn't have a choice. Don't give me that. There are consequences here that... It was about helping people. That's all I was trying to do. Madeline's special. What she has. It's a new strain. And it spreads. She's just as dangerous to the world as we are to her. She's been held in isolation all her life. How does that happen? It wasn't supposed to get out of hand. Well, it did, didn't it? She's contagious. That's why she can't be told. She can't leave. Because of what you did to her. Because next Corps was tinkering with things you didn't do well. We were trying to eradicate these kinds of disorders. They wouldn't shut us down if we didn't show them some progress. They should have. We thought it could heal her. And instead you infected her with something we are unequipped to deal with. We don't know that for sure. That's why. You aren't making things. We were desperate. The other kids were dying. It had taken so much longer than we anticipated. And thought this might help. Next Corps made the new strength. Yes! Alright? Yes! We did! I hope this was worth it to you. We're all done here. What does that mean? Is it all futile? What? Life. Is it futile? What does that mean? Futile. Futilely. Futilely. Advert. To no avail. To be unsuccessful in comprehending. What have you done? Example? They had gone to a great deal of expense. For nothing. I did what I thought was right. Nothingness. Or non-existence. First recorded circa 1631. What does that say about people? But that's the first time we've thought to consider it. You told her. I didn't know she was contagious. But honestly, I don't know if that would have made a difference. Next Corps will destroy you. You've given us no choice but to silence you. You'll have to silence a lot more than just me. George goes to her computer and hits a button. She plays back a few seconds of their conversation. Then hits the enter key. And it's spent. If we live through whatever strange she has, next Corps is down and so are you. So I would suggest you don't try to stop me from walking out of here. Is that a threat? Think of it as a warning. The observation lab goes dark. There were more. More. They are. Here. I can hear them. I hear the beating, beating thumpity of the heart of the children. That beat away in their mother's arms. That failed in the test tube that I lived in. I fade. We hear the sound of a heartbeat and Elvis Presley's, it's now or never begins to play. Blending together. It's him. It's them. Madeline sees the king of germs standing outside the cell. His horde of hands stand behind him. They wade at Madeline. You've been waiting for me to come. You're the others, aren't you? The ones like me? The four? He nods. I didn't realize. I'm sorry about hating you. He shrugs. Then holds out his arms to her, waiting. Madeline looks at the robot. The robot takes her hand. Together. Goodbye. As Madeline and the robot step out of the cell toward the king of germs, everything seems to slow down and the stage goes black. End of play. And Jan may be your comment, because the presentation of the Jewish spot on the property was very, very, very promising for you to have. And here is the prize. The Jewish spot on the property, as well as the story written by Mary Chase. I would like to thank the history of Madeline's factory for all of the work she's doing in the emergency playwright and helping to shed light on the forgotten historical field of playwright. I'd like to thank my professor, Dr. Tewitt, for being part of this, and without him I wouldn't have been able to submit to the contest. I would also like to thank my family and my mother, without whom I would not be able to pass the playwright for the person I am today. Thank you. Many, many, many presentations to follow the prize. What a wonderful place it was to be. And now everyone comes and will celebrate in the love. Thank you so much. Thank you.