EPISODE 61 - MARTHA
Today’s episode is dedicated to Patricia Bohnwagner who has been a regular patron for a while and recently upped their pledge to become a superpatron, for which we are very grateful. Patricia’s fake death will involve a lawnmower, sawdust, chopsticks and two gallons of beetroot smoothie. Thank you Patricia and we hope you enjoy your new life as a biscuit maker in San Marino.
PROLOGUE
MONTMARTRE CEMETERY.
ALVINA
So Kozlowski was a specialist in monster prosthetics for American B movies?
INTERVIEWER
He was, yes! And if we are ever reunited, we must all get together, you, me, Kozlowski, Amelia, Joey and Salvatore, with a crate of popcorn and a bucket of Pepsi and watch Killer Rabbits Revenge!
ALVINA
That would be nice.
INTERVIEWER
(SOFTLY) Yes.
ALVINA
What about you?
INTERVIEWER
Hm?
ALVINA
You also worked in Hollywood?
INTERVIEWER
Ah. No… no.
ALVINA
So what were you doing during that time?
INTERVIEWER
Getting very well acquainted with the bottom of the sea.
ALVINA
Excuse me?
INTERVIEWER
For three years I lived in a submarine.
ALVINA
I don't know why anything surprises me anymore.
BEAT.
But… I thought you never leave Kozlowski's side?
Interviewer
(SIGHS) In 1945 we got separated during the Ardennes Offensive. I ended up in Antwerp and through a string of highly unlikely and rather amusing circumstances, actually, I hitched a ride on a submarine with a Pole called Jan and a Swede called Olaf.
ALVINA
But- you spent three years on that thing? How did you manage that? I mean - you barely last three hours in the office without getting bored!
INTERVIEWER
(SOLEMN) Sometimes even boredom is a price worth paying.
ALVINA
What?! You really can still surprise. I never thought I'd hear you say that.
INTERVIEWER
Well, when it comes to escaping Nazis...
ALVINA
Oh, well yes... of course. So you were fleeing the war.
INTERVIEWER
Yes… Besides, life on the sub wasn't all that bad. I mean, Olaf taught me everything I know about tiddlywinks and I have Jan to thank for my proficiency in ballet. We also used the opportunity to retrieve Martha's plane from the bottom of the Pacific and-
ALVINA
Wait, you set off in 1945?
INTERVIEWER
Correct.
ALVINA
That's the year the war ended! What were you doing hiding out for another three years?
INTERVIEWER
Well... We were... rather cut off...
ALVINA
Meaning?
INTERVIEWER
We reemerged in 1947 in Portsmouth in desperate need of food and supplies, half expecting to find Britain under the swastika...
ALVINA
You mean you didn't realise the war had ended?
INTERVIEWER
Well how could we?! There was zero communication entering or exiting The Argonaut - that's our sub. We had done everything to ensure we were entirely off the grid.
ALVINA
(SNORTS, THEN GETS SOLEMN AGAIN) Well, I suppose I shouldn't judge. It must have been a scary time.
INTERVIEWER
It was.
ALVINA
Do you want to tell me about it?
INTERVIEWER
The most scared I've ever been was when Martha's plane crashed.
ALVINA
Oh. The Amelia Earhart disappearance? I'm dying to hear about that one.
INTERVIEWER
No, no, not that, that was very controlled. I'm talking about her second crash. Her real crash. When she was shot down in Italy.
ALVINA
Oh. What happened?
INTERVIEWER
You want me to tell you?
ALVINA
That's why we're here.
INTERVIEWER
It's not very jolly. In fact it's a rather sombre story.
ALVINA
I'm here for those too.
(PAUSE.)
INTERVIEWER
I could tell you the submarine story instead? It's much funnier.
ALVINA
Yes, but I think you want to tell me about Martha.
INTERVIEWER
You're right. I think I do.
BEAT.
Alvina, thank you.
ALVINA
For what?
INTERVIEWER
For being such a good listener.
ALVINA
Oh... Well that's easy with a storyteller like you.
INTERVIEWER
Well, I appreciate it. Might be the last time I get to tell these stories you know?
(ALVINA TAKES HIS HAND)
ALVINA
Yes.
INTERVIEWER
Time for a story?
ALVINA
Time for a story.
Theme tune and intro
INTRO
The Amelia Project, by Philip Thorne and Oystein Brager, with music and sound direction by Fredrik Baden. Episode 61 - Martha, 1944
MAIN EPISODE - WW2, A FIELD HOSPITAL
(WE'RE IN A CANVAS TENT FIELD HOSPITAL ON THE ANZIO BEACHHEAD, ITALY, SPRING 1944. WEAK BREATHING. IT'S MARTHA. SHE'S UNCONSCIOUS. FROM THE EDGE OF THE TENT THE CANVAS IS BEING PULLED ASIDE, AND PRUDENCE, A NURSE, ENTERS)
PRUDENCE
How is she?
KOZLOWSKI
Unconscious again.
Prudence
Oh.
BEAT.
Well. here's the flask of water. I have boiled it.
KOZLOWSKI
Just put it on the table, please.
(PRUDENCE PLACES THE WATER BY THE BED)
PRUDENCE
Did you get to speak with her?
KOZLOWSKI
I did.
PRUDENCE
That's good. In case she...
(PRUDENCE CAN'T CONTINUE)
KOZLOWSKI
...does not live?
PRUDENCE
Yes. I can sit with her, if you want?
KOZLOWSKI
Oh, am I needed for surgery?
PRUDENCE
Not right now, I just thought maybe you needed some rest -
KOZLOWSKI
(INTERRUPTING) Then I will stay with her.
PRUDENCE
Of course, Colonel.
(PRUDENCE DOESN'T LEAVE)
PRUDENCE
Ehm -
KOZLOWSKI
You have other soldiers to see to, do you not?
PRUDENCE
The 6th battalion just came back from Campoleone. Some badly hurt. We are struggling out there, Colonel.
KOZLOWSKI
Then go sit with them.
PRUDENCE
It's just... We don't get many women here. Let alone one who is a pilot. I- I just wanted to spend some time in her presence. She's a hero!
KOZLOWSKI
Ah, so are you, Lieutenant.
PRUDENCE
Please. Call me Prudence.
KOZLOWSKI
We are all heroes, Prudence. Now go and hold a soldier's hand. I am sure he will appreciate that.
PRUDENCE
I'll leave you two alone. Let me know if you need anything.
KOZLOWSKI
I will.
(PRUDENCE LEAVES, THE CANVAS FLAP CLOSES)
(PAUSE)
KOZLOWSKI
Martha. You brave, brave soul.
Here we are. Halfway up the Italian leg, trying to give Hitler a kick in the shin... Yet at the moment, that seems like all we are doing. A small kick against the fascist leather boot.
(PAUSE)
Seeing you like this is harder than you think. I wanted to say this to you whilst you were still awake (SIGHS) you slipped away before I had the chance.
Martha. You are part of the brotherhood now. Do you know that? I know you do not like that word; "Brotherhood". I understand. But being part of "the project" does not carry the same weight. So, whether you like it or not, you are one of the brothers, Martha. In less than a decade you have taken up such a significant place in our lives that losing you feels like losing a... sister.
But I respect your wishes, Martha. Which is why I wanted to tell you a story. One I have not yet told you, but which seems to be just the right story to tell at this moment. So in case you can still hear me, I will tell it to you.
There is always time for a story...
I grew up in Tyre, a port town in the merchant state of Phoenicia. My father was a dyer, dyeing fabrics with the famous deep purple that only Phoenicians knew how to make.
Phoenician purple had been around for a thousand years. It was the most expensive dye there was, only afforded by Queens and Kings, Princesses and Princes and the very, very richest of merchants. It was shipped to the farthest reaches of the world, and kept the Phoenician people alive and prosperous.
But what the world did not know; what was kept hidden from the Queens and the Kings and the Princesses and the Princes, was that Phoenician dye did not exist anymore. For years, they had not been able to make more, and instead dyed the fabrics with Tyrean dye. Now Tyrean dye was also expensive, it was hard to extract and to produce. You see, it came from the glands of the Murex, a marine snail that lived only off the coast of Phoenicia.
But if you think: Why should the Princesses and Princes not be happy with a dye extracted from such a rare creature, it is only because you do not know where the original Phoenician dye came from.
Because the original dye was made from the brightest crimson you could imagine, a colour only ever seen in nature... in the feathers of the Phoenix.
That is right; Phoenician dye was made from Phoenix feathers.
(PAUSE. SOUND OF WAVES)
Phoenixes were rare, but they existed. And they lived, of course, in Phoenicia.
A dyer who managed to capture a Phoenix, hah, he was a lucky man. He had provided for his family for eternity. Because you do not need to breed Phoenixes, do you? You do not even have to feed them. Folklore has it, Phoenixes do not die! Or rather - they do, but they come back again. When they die, they burn. And from the ashes, they rise again. Right? The Phoenix is a symbol of immortality.
But what if that is not true?
Now, remember, being alive is not the same as thriving. I am sure you can imagine it, Martha. Some dyers treated their Phoenixes badly, because they knew, even if the Phoenix starved to death at dusk, it would be back again at dawn. But those Phoenixes grew thin and sickly. Eventually their plume faded, and the bright crimson they once exhibited, was reduced to a pallid, dusty pink. As time passed, the Phoenix would burn more and more often, and one day the ashes would be taken by the wind, and the Phoenix would rise no more. Leaving that family desolate, forcing them to scavenge for snails in the shallow waters by the dock.
Other dyers would treat their Phoenixes well. The Phoenix would be the pride of the household, loved like a member of the family. Those houses did well for generation upon generation.
(SIGHS) But in every family, a greedy child will one day come along. One who thinks the amount of dye the bird produces is not enough. One who thinks the bird does not deserve the best place at the table or the best serving of the day's food - but that they do. And once a greedy child is born, and a greedy child grows up, and a greedy child inherits the family business... from that day onward, you would see a dyer's house in decline. Until one day... The ashes are taken by the wind.
This was another secret only known to the Phoenicians:
Phoenixes can die.
Our family had a Phoenix. The last one in Tyre. Many families claimed they had one, but I suspect it was the last one in all of Phoenicia. It was the sun we all revolved around. And when my grandfather died, my uncle, who was the oldest son, took over the family business. And then our luck changed. By the time I started as an apprentice to my uncle at the age of eleven, the bird would no longer burn once a century or once a decade or even once a year - but once a week.
When I was twelve, we saw the Phoenix burn every night, until one day, its ashes flew away on the wind.
We were bankrupt.
My uncle fled in shame, no one ever heard from him again, and my father took over his place.
Now, my father was an ambitious businessman. He wanted to pull our name out of the sand and make it great again. But he knew that the only way he could do that was if we regained what we had lost. We needed a Phoenix.
Like me, my father did not believe anyone in Phoenicia owned any phoenixes anymore. He had travelled far and wide selling our fabrics, and had never once come across a fabric with the hue that ours once used to have.
But there were rumours going around that there was still one Phoenix in the world, that Prince Zhao of Qi still had one. So my father sent me to get it.
At the time, Prince Zhao was at war with his brothers, so my journey - on horseback, on donkey, on foot - begging for rides with travelling merchants and ships transporting goods along the rivers - finally brought me right into the heart of ancient China, where rice fields had turned to battlefields.
I arrived finding wounded soldiers dying in trenches, others being nursed back to health in overfilled tents.
Huh, very much like here, like now. War never seems to change.
I made my way towards the front, and found the officers' camp, Prince Zhao's tent right at the centre. His tent was heavily guarded, of course, but I was a slender child, and very good at hiding. I crawled in the tall grass all the way up to the prince's tent and peeked under the canvas.
There he was. The mighty prince. With his precious Phoenix at his side. But, oh, it was a sad, sad sight. The Phoenix had lost nearly all of its colour. Feathers were falling out. It slumped its head against the bars in its - yes, gilded cage - and seemed to me to be crying.
I waited there until nightfall, when everyone was asleep apart from the night guards. They were watching the front entrance to the tent, and did not see the little boy slipping in under the canvas wall at the back.
I tiptoed over to the Phoenix, sleeping in its cage right next to prince Zhao's bed. The prince was snoring loudly, and every time he let out a sound, I could make a move: Open the cage, lift the bird into my knapsack, sneak back to the wall...
But then I thought - if this is the last Phoenix in the world, it is invaluable to the prince. He will come after me, and he will not stop until he finds me. Unless...
So I went over to the fireplace in the middle of the room where the fire had gone out. I brushed some ashes into the palm of my hand, and scattered them inside and outside of the Phoenix's cage. Then I locked the cage back up again, tiptoed back to the wall...
...and ran. I ran as silently - yet as fast - as I could, and did not stop until dawn.
Now I was far, far away from the front. I sat down at the riverside, exhausted, and rested. For the first time since stealing the bird, I opened my knapsack. There the bird was - looking straight into my eyes.
As the bird looked at me, I heard a voice in my mind. And I knew it was the Phoenix talking to me.
'Where are you taking me?' it asked.
'I have come to take you to Phoenicia,' I thought.
'Home.' the bird said. 'How wonderful. I have not been home for centuries, and I was hoping to see the crystal clear waters and the green Phoenician gardens abounding with flowers of all colours one more time before I die.'
'You are dying?' I asked.
'Can you not see the state of my plume?' the bird replied.
'I can.'
'I only have one feather left with a streak of crimson. And even that is fading.'
'I am taking you to my father!' I thought. 'He will give you all the food you want, every medicine known to man! He will nurse you back to health!'
'Will he give me my freedom?' the bird asked.
'You will live in the most wonderful home!' I thought. 'Far away from the battlefield! With happy children running around, singing songs!'
'Will he give me my freedom?' the bird repeated. And when I didn't reply, the bird asked: 'Are you a dyer's son?'
'Yes,' I thought.
'Well then,' the bird said, 'your father is not likely to set me free, is he?'
A tear rolled down my cheek. Then another one. I cried for the poor bird. It had been in captivity for centuries, unable to fly anywhere. Perhaps unable to fly at all.
'I am not my father,' I thought. 'And I am certainly not my uncle! I can make my own decisions! Listen, honourable Phoenix, I will take you to Phoenicia. But before we reach Tyre, I shall let you go. I will give you your freedom, so you can see the shore and the gardens and the flowers one more time before you die.'
The bird looked at me, and I looked back, into its eyes, drying my tears, but never looking away. Then, after the longest of times, the bird spoke again.
'I owe you my thanks' it said. 'Perhaps your father could have nursed me back to health for a while. Perhaps not. My life is very far gone. But that matters not. I have lived for aeons, and I have seen everything there is to see. What matters is that I get to choose where I fly, when I take off and when I land, and on what rocks I want to sit when my last hour comes.
Now that I will get to see my home one more time, I can die in peace. You have given me a gift greater than you can imagine, selflessly and with great personal sacrifice - I am sure your father will not be happy when you return empty handed. So I will give you a gift in return.
When we reach Phoenicia, before we part ways, take the last of my feathers that still has a speck of crimson on it. Hold it to your heart for three days, never letting go. When the sun rises on the third day, I will have lain a path between your heart and your eyes on which love can travel.'
'What do you mean?' I said. 'I do not understand?'
'You saw me and cried for my pain' said the bird. 'So from that moment on, when you have held my feather to your heart for three days, your tears will have the power of healing.'
(A LONG PAUSE. FAINT NOISES OF BUSY NURSES AND WOUNDED SOLDIERS CARRIED ON STRETCHERS CAN BE HEARD FROM OUTSIDE)
(THEN, SOMEONE COMES IN THROUGH THE CANVAS DOOR)
KOZLOWSKI
Eh- Prudence? Are you not holding a wounded soldier's hand?
PRUDENCE
There is someone here to see you, Colonel.
KOZLOWSKI
I do not want to be disturbed.
PRUDENCE
I think it is important.
KOZLOWSKI
Is it Major-General Lucas?
PRUDENCE
No. A man who just arrived. Says his name is Sir Hubert Hathoway the Third.
KOZLOWSKI
He came!
PRUDENCE
He is waiting for you outside.
KOZLOWSKI
Can you sit with her?
PRUDENCE
Of course! It is an honour!
KOZLOWSKI
Thank you, Prudence.
(KOZLOWSKI GETS UP AND EXITS THE TENT)
OUTSIDE THE FIELD HOSPITAL.
(KOZLOWSKI COMES OUT OF THE TENT.)
INTERVIEWER
Kozlowski! It's so good to see you!
KOZLOWSKI
It is good to see you too, Hubert!
INTERVIEWER
Oh, please, it's Arthur.
KOZLOWSKI
I thought your name was Hubert?
INTERVIEWER
My mother called me Hubert. I go by Arthur these days. It's my middle name.
KOZLOWSKI
(SHAKING HIS HEAD WITH A LAUGH) Oh, Arthur...
(THEY HUG)
I did not think you would make it.
INTERVIEWER
(SOBERLY) The telegram said Martha was injured! I dropped everything and set off!
BEAT.
I was holding a cup of cocoa at the time. I'll have to sweep the floor when I get back.
KOZLOWSKI
Here at the front you can drop as many cups as you want and none of them break. You get very used to water having a distinct taste of metal.
INTERVIEWER
Yes… How are you holding up?
KOZLOWSKI
I am doing well. I get to operate every day, on the most interesting injuries. I had a soldier the other day whose arm had been so se-
INTERVIEWER
Please - don't tell me. I'm glad there are people in the world who find broken limbs intriguing enough to want to operate on them. I am! But I'm fine sticking to using corn syrup for blood and snapping a piece of celery to mimic the sound of breaking bone.
KOZLOWSKI
And tell me… How is operation Dead Eagle coming along?
INTERVIEWER
Faking people's death's when they're not in on it is harder than I thought.
KOZLOWSKI
So progress is slow? I am sorry to hear that. Out here, at the front, the fear that the Nazis will develop a nuclear bomb is very real. Especially if we are doing well.
INTERVIEWER
If we're doing well? Why?
KOZLOWSKI
Hah. The more desperate Hitler gets, the more the chances increase of him using such a weapon.
INTERVIEWER
Oh, not to worry! I said it was hard - not impossible. I am after all -
KOZLOWSKI
(PROUDLY) - the best in the business!
INTERVIEWER
German nuclear scientist number one drowned in heavy water.
Scientist number two trampled by Nazi parade.
Scientist number three crushed by falling swastika.
Scientist number four flattened by Panzerkampfwagen.
(CHUCKLES) And number five had a lethal allergic reaction to sauerkraut (CHUCKLES)
All of them are safely deposited in Alaska with new identities as wildlife conservationists. Under strict supervision, of course. You know, most of them were quite happy to get out of Germany, to be honest, but one of them... let's just say he gets Grizzly watch more often than the others.
KOZLOWSKI
That is good news.
INTERVIEWER
Yes, not for the grizzlies. The man is as thin as a stick. Hardly counts as an appetiser.
(LAUGHS AND THEN SOBERS UP)
Is she... Is she in there?
KOZLOWSKI
Yes.
INTERVIEWER
I don't know if I want to see her like that. Lying in a row of wounded soldiers...
KOZLOWSKI
She is alone.
INTERVIEWER
A whole tent to herself?
KOZLOWSKI
For now. If there is another air strike, she will have to share.
INTERVIEWER
Is she conscious?
KOZLOWSKI
She was, but only for a while.
INTERVIEWER
Did you speak to her?
KOZLOWSKI
I told her a story.
INTERVIEWER
True story?
KOZLOWSKI
Do you mean factually true or emotionally true?
INTERVIEWER
Either?
KOZLOWSKI
It was only the latter.
INTERVIEWER
Well, that's the most important thing.
BEAT.
How bad is it?
KOZLOWSKI
I do not know.
INTERVIEWER
You don't know?
KOZLOWSKI
I do not possess the power of predicting the future.
INTERVIEWER
Yes! But you can assess her condition! As a doctor!
KOZLOWSKI
Her condition is very poor. She was shot down.
INTERVIEWER
Yes alright… What happened exactly?
KOZLOWSKI
Martha was sent to retrieve an officer who was caught behind enemy lines. Sargent McKreever, an American. He was captured by the Nazis four days ago. He escaped and managed to get a message to us. Martha flew in under the cover of darkness, retrieved McKreever, and flew him out. Everything seemed to have gone to plan, when suddenly there was enemy fire.
INTERVIEWER
Oh no…
KOZLOWSKI (CON’T)
The front of the plane took several hits and she had no option but to attempt an emergency landing.
INTERVIEWER
Oh dear.
KOZLOWSKI (CON’T)
She nose dived into a field and... now she is here. I have removed the shrapnel and patched her up, but there are limits even to my skills.
INTERVIEWER
What about the officer?
KOZLOWSKI
Sargent McKreever? He is in that tent over there. Nothing but a broken leg and a light concussion.
INTERVIEWER
(HOPEFUL) So all in all, the crash wasn't that bad?
KOZLOWSKI
The cockpit was smashed beyond recognition.
INTERVIEWER
Oh...
KOZLOWSKI
I fear... she will not survive.
Interviewer
Well, we can fix that!
KOZLOWSKI
No.
Interviewer
Why not? Just give her Patience!
BEAT.
You gave her some, right? Right?
BEAT.
Kozlowski! Did you or did you not give her Patience!?
KOZLOWSKI
Hubert. Keep your voice down, please.
(THE INTERVIEWER TRIES TO KEEP HIS VOICE DOWN, STILL SOUNDING UPSET AND BARELY MANAGING)
INTERVIEWER
You didn't?! Why ever not!?
KOZLOWSKI
It's her choice!
INTERVIEWER
We have to at least offer it to her!
KOZLOWSKI
She might never gain consciousness again!
INTERVIEWER
All the more reason to make an executive decision!
KOZLOWSKI
I will not do that!
INTERVIEWER
Why not!?
KOZLOWSKI
Because she does not want it!
(PAUSE)
INTERVIEWER
(SOFTLY) What do you mean?
KOZLOWSKI
I already offered it to her! When she was awake.
INTERVIEWER
So you didn't just tell her a story.
KOZLOWSKI
Of course not. (QUIETER) We discussed Patience.
INTERVIEWER
And… And you're saying she refused?
KOZLOWSKI
Yes.
INTERVIEWER
(HURT) Why?! Why would she do that? Did she know she was dying?
KOZLOWSKI
She had a better understanding of her situation than anyone.
INTERVIEWER
Then why did she refuse?
KOZLOWSKI
Do you remember the story about the Phoenix?
INTERVIEWER
Which one?! I mean, I can't take any more of your Phoenix stories!
BEAT.
Listen… you and I would never have joined the war effort if it wasn't for Martha. We would have run away like we always do! We would never have come up with Operation Dead Eagle, and you would never have ended up as a field surgeon! Now don't tell me this doesn't feel worthwhile!
KOZLOWSKI
Of course it does! That is not what this is about!
INTERVIEWER
Not what this is- Without Martha, we would never have negotiated a 50 year immunity with the British Government! 50 years! Think about the opportunities that gives us!
KOZLOWSKI
We are forever grateful to Martha.
INTERVIEWER
Everything we have now is thanks to that woman in there! And now you are saying, she should not be a part of that?
KOZLOWSKI
Yes. Death takes people away.
INTERVIEWER
But we don't have to let that happen!
KOZLOWSKI
How would you like it if someone forced you to do something you did not want to do?
INTERVIEWER
What like die? Then I'd drink some Patience, thank you very much.
KOZLOWSKI
Imagine the opposite scenario.
INTERVIEWER
I know Martha wants to live!
KOZLOWSKI
Of course she does! But wanting to live is not incompatible with allowing death to take its course!
(THE INTERVIEWER SCOFFS)
All humans have a lifespan, Hubert. You can respect that or not. We chose not to. She is choosing differently.
(PAUSE.)
INTERVIEWER
There is enough for three people plus clients!
KOZLOWSKI
I am not arguing that our supply is short.
INTERVIEWER
She saved us, Itthobal!
(PAUSE)
KOZLOWSKI
I have not used that name for centuries.
INTERVIEWER
Arthur and Itthobal. Caught on a desolate island.
KOZLOWSKI
We would have lived…
INTERVIEWER
"There is a difference between living and thriving." Isn't that what you say when you tell your Phoenix-story?
BEAT.
KOZLOWSKI
(SARCASTIC) Which one?
INTERVIEWER
She saved us, now it is our turn to save her.
KOZLOWSKI
Not if she does not want us to! We pay her our respect by honouring her wishes!
INTERVIEWER
So- so what!? So that's it? She said no, just like that?
KOZLOWSKI
“It is far easier to start something than it is to finish it.”
INTERVIEWER
Yes, she has said that to me many times. Whenever I come up with a disappearance she thinks is too extravagant, she says that:
“It is far easier to start something than it is to finish it, Arthur.” And then she'll go and finish it for me!
KOZLOWSKI
She repeated it tonight.
INTERVIEWER
Yes well… What did she mean by it?
KOZLOWSKI
I think she meant that starting your life is easier than allowing it to finish.
INTERVIEWER
Oh, so she was criticising us for choosing to live?
KOZLOWSKI
Did you expect anything else from her?
INTERVIEWER
Our Martha... Always brutally honest!
BEAT.
Well, if she was touting old sayings of hers, did she repeat this one: "Adventure is worthwhile in itself"?
KOZLOWSKI
She did not.
INTERVIEWER
But she is of that opinion, is she not?! She has said it many times! And it seems apt right now doesn't it?
KOZLOWSKI
Does it?
INTERVIEWER
The adventure of life! (QUIETER AGAIN) The adventure of drinking a magic potion! Surely, adventures that are worthwhile in themselves!
KOZLOWSKI
Context, Arthur.
INTERVIEWER
The context is saving her life!
KOZLOWSKI
Martha and I had the conversation, Arthur.
BEAT.
I told her about Patience, how it works. I said that if she wanted to start taking it, I have enough for all three of us. That you and I had wanted to tell her about it for some time, and offer it to her, but then the war broke out and we never got round to it.
INTERVIEWER
But… Did you explain that she could also just take it this once?
KOZLOWSKI
Like our clients, yes. If she wanted to pull through this one rough moment. She called that a "slippery slope".
INTERVIEWER
Huh.
KOZLOWSKI (CON’T)
Then we talked for a while about death, what we think it really is.
INTERVIEWER
It's unnecessary, that's what it really is.
KOZLOWSKI
Then, out of nowhere she said:
“Courage is the price that life exacts for granting peace, the soul that knows it not, knows no release from little things.”
(PAUSE)
INTERVIEWER
I don't get it.
KOZLOWSKI
Neither do I.
(PAUSE)
I think all it boils down to is this: Do we grant Martha's wishes, or do we not?
(PAUSE)
INTERVIEWER
(SIGHS) Respect.
KOZLOWSKI
Yes.
INTERVIEWER
Even if you don't understand.
KOZLOWSKI
Yes.
A long PAUSE.
INTERVIEWER
Right well… I guess I'll... go in there then. To say goodbye. I have to get going soon, I have a death by Lederhosen to orchestrate.
KOZLOWSKI
Should I come in with you?
INTERVIEWER
Yes, please.
(PRUDENCE COMES RUNNING OUT OF MARTHA'S TENT. SHE IS EXCITED)
PRUDENCE
Colonel! Colonel Kozlowski!
INTERVIEWER
What is it, Prudence?
PRUDENCE
(HAPPILY) She... she woke up!
INTERVIEWER
We must see her! Right away!
(KOZLOWSKI AND THE INTERVIEWER RUSH TOWARDS THE TENT)
PRUDENCE
You can't go in!
KOZLOWSKI
Why not?
PRUDENCE
She is...
KOZLOWSKI
(EQUALLY EXCITED) Is she in pain? I am not embarrassed by her grimaces! I can administer pain relief!
PRUDENCE
No! No, she is just... Actually... she is indecent.
KOZLOWSKI
Indecent?
INTERVIEWER
Indecent...?
PRUDENCE
She's getting dressed.
KOZLOWSKI
She is out of bed?
PRUDENCE
She is feeling a lot better! I should go back and help her though, she isn't at all steady on her feet yet. I'll let you know when to come in!
(PRUDENCE GOES BACK INTO THE TENT)
INTERVIEWER
So - uhm… What does this mean?
KOZLOWSKI
I do not know.
INTERVIEWER
(EXASPERATED) Kozlowski!
KOZLOWSKI
It probably means that she will pull through.
INTERVIEWER
Oh thank heavens!
KOZLOWSKI
Oh I can not believe it!
INTERVIEWER
Oh Kozlowski you’re such a genius I could kiss you.
KOZLOWSKI (OVERLAPPING)
Arthur.
KOZLOWSKI
She pulled through! She went ahead and pulled through!
(OVERLAPPING EACH OTHER)
INTERVIEWER
(RELIEVED) Oh… Oh good lord… God she had me worried there for a moment.
(PAUSE)
KOZLOWSKI
Arthur.
INTERVIEWER
Yes?
KOZLOWSKI
Are we in agreement?
INTERVIEWER
Hm?
KOZLOWSKI
We will never try to extend her natural lifespan, not unless she asks for it?
INTERVIEWER
Yes, yes yes. We are in agreement.
KOZLOWSKI
And the same goes for anyone we might offer Patience to in the future.
INTERVIEWER
Yes, yes of course it shall be their choice, whether I like it or not.
(PRUDENCE CALLS FROM THE TENT)
PRUDENCE
She is ready for you!
KOZLOWSKI
Good. Now let us go see to her.
INTERVIEWER
Let's.
(THEY HEAD FOR THE TENT)
INTERVIEWER
I think this calls for a toast! I have actually got a bottle of Veuve Clicquot with me that I managed to smuggle into Germany and then out of Germany again and then into Hungary for a little bit before I -
KOZLOWSKI
I do not believe you have held onto the same bottle of Veuve Clicquot for that long!
INTERVIEWER
I might have exchanged it for new bottles along the way... Do you know what passes for champagne in Hungary these days? Oh! It is disgusting!
(THEY DISAPPEAR INTO THE TENT)
OUTRO AND THEME TUNE
Stay tuned for the epilogue, but first the credits.
This episode was written by Oystein Brager, directed by Philip Thorne and Oystein Brager, with story and audio editing by Philip Thorne.
Music and sound design by Fredrik Baden.
The episode featured Hemi Yeroham as Kozlowski, Julia C. Thorne as Alvina, Alan Burgon as The Interviewer, Lydia Orange as Prudence and coming up Erin King as Mia Fox and Jordan Cobb as Jackie Williams.
Production assistance by Maty Parzival and graphic design by Anders Pedersen.
There is just one more episode of Season 5 Part 1 left, if you want to help us make Part 2, please do consider supporting us on Patreon. Your support is how we are able to pay everyone who works on the show, so if The Amelia Project has brought you joy, if you like our stories and want us to keep telling them, if you think an episode is worth the price of a cup of cocoa, then we’d be so grateful if you’d consider making a running contribution of two dollars, five dollars or more, per full new episode we release. You can find out how to do that on ameliapodcast.com by going to “support the show”.
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And now, the epilogue.
EPILOGUE - A FIELD IN SCOTLAND
(CRACKLING FIRE)
KOZLOWSKI
...so we decided you have to choose if you want to take it. And Martha chose not to.
JACKIE
Patience... That's the liquid in the vial?
KOZLOWSKI
Yes.
JACKIE
And you're saying it's some sort of... life elixir?
KOZLOWSKI
You make it sound so crude, as if it is a magic potion out of a paperback fantasy novel. But yes, essentially, a life elixir is what it is.
JACKIE
Holy mother of...
MIA
Oh bravo! You have a drug that can make you live forever, but Amelia Earhart chose not to take it...! Neat detail!
KOZLOWSKI
It also happens to be the truth.
MIA
Because that would explain why she is no longer around, wouldn't it?
KOZLOWSKI
It would, yes.
MIA
You know what I am lacking right now?
KOZLOWSKI
More gummy bears? A warmer jacket?
MIA
Can you guess, Jackie?
JACKIE
Uhm -
MIA
Patience! I have run out of patience!
KOZLOWSKI
A pun! Mia Fox, you have wit!
MIA
(WITH THE MOST SNARKY SARCASM) Oh, this has been fun so far, hasn't it?
END OF EPISODE.