Arcane is out in the swamp searching for something. He’s carrying a backpack and communicating by radio with Graham, who is overhead in a
helicopter. He informs Graham that he’s approaching the target; moving south of co-ordinate 517; “with no small degree of difficulty, I might add.”
he grumbles, but tells Graham that it’s preferable to having him bungle the assignment. He orders Graham to prepare the landing teams, saying that
when he locates the plant, extraction and transplantation time will be critical. He ends the conversation and the helicopter leaves.
Crawling up a grassy bank, he finds some ceremonial masks discarded on the floor. “Marvellous! Yes!” he exclaims happily. Sitting near the top of
the bank and picking up and examining a fetish; he records his findings into a mini tape recorder; “Information has come to me at great cost, of a
ritual cavern where medicine men created a hybrid swamp Lilly for mystical and magical purposes. It is within this Lilly that I hope to find the vital
missing properties for my formula to reverse the ageing process.” His recording finished, he turns and continues his climb. “Arcane! Leave this
place!” Alec’s familiar voice intones behind him, causing Arcane to turn in surprise and frustration. “Haven’t you got anything better to do than
follow me around?” He accuses Alec, who warns him that this is hallowed ground. “This is science!” Arcane points out angrily; “something some of
us still practice.” Ignoring Alec, he turns and continues on, but slips at the top of the bank, crying out as he falls down the other side to the bottom.
He gets up painfully to find a beast’s skull (looks like some form of cattle). He looks thrilled and laughs that this must be it. He moves some nearby
foliage to reveal a cave entrance. He has indeed found the place, and goes inside, watched all the while by Alec.
Arcane reiterates emphatically that whatever else,
he was NOT the man behind the grassy knoll !
Inside, armed with a lantern, he takes out his radio and attempts to contact Graham, telling him that the legend was true, and to alert the landing
teams. He approaches some flowers. There is no reply from Graham and Arcane shouts angrily to him, asking where he is. “He can’t hear you,
Arcane. Your radio signal’s dead.” Alec informs him, now inside the cave himself. “Then I’ll harvest the damn plants myself!” Arcane announces,
moving towards the flowers. “Don’t touch them!” Alec shouts a warning, and the cave begins to shake. Arcane quickly snatches the flowers and
makes to leave hurriedly, but the cave begins to collapse. Arcane is struck on the head by a piece of rock and falls to the ground. Alec is covered
by a huge collapse of rock and debris from the ceiling; and the cave is sealed in.
Some time later, Arcane begins to recover consciousness. His lantern is still on. Clutching his head painfully, he crawls over to see Alec, who’s
buried under a large mound of rocks. “Holland, what happened to you?” He gasps, actually sounding concerned. Alec groans that he can’t move.
Arcane examines him; “Your vital systems have been traumatised by the debris. The lack of sunlight and air limit your ability to photosynthesise, and
regeneration;”. He says, starting to remove the rocks from Alec; “not to mention my own chances of survival.” he adds, as grim realisation hits him.
The effort of removing the rocks is too much, so he gives up. He gets up and looks around commenting that there must be a back road out of here,
and things can’t be as bleak as they seem. “Where’s that inevitable route out?” He says hopefully to himself, watched from above by two large fat
spiders sitting motionless in their web. He puts on a falsely cheerful bravado and goes back over to Alec. “Well, it’s a good thing we’ve got your
secret weapon. Let’s have it, Old Man!” He tries to gee Alec into some enthusiasm; “Huh? Where are those powers of nature of yours?” He
suggests that a good earthquake could free them; trying vainly to stir some life out of Alec. He pretty soon realises that it’s a lost cause. All Alec
seems capable of doing is lying there, groaning weakly. Arcane, resting one hand on the rock pile and the other on his hip, looks down at Alec with
infuriation. “Are you even listening to me?” he says. Receiving no answer, he stands upright again. “Apparently not!” he muses to himself. Putting
both hands on his hips he looks around and assays his situation. “Well, there it is then;” he covers the grim reality with a casual tone, “Several tons
of rock blocking our escape; very little air, and no food!” He pauses; “There’s no shortage of silence.” he says despondently; then turns to Alec.
“Say something, damn it! I can’t stand silence!” he implores Alec. “It’s over, Arcane. We’re going to die.” is Alec’s sombre and feeble reply. It’s
clearly not the answer Arcane wanted. He can’t accept this; “The end of an era; the end of all that is exceptional and special in the world....The end
of ME!” He becomes livid, then calms down, pathetically picking up the Lilly and moaning; “To be so close to the secrets of immortality, yet denied
the final resolution by such a primitive circumstance!” By the end of the sentence his mood has risen back to anger, and the Lilly is thrown down in
fury. He then turns his anger on Alec, accusing him and his “detestable swamp” of being behind the incident. “Hope has ended.” is all that Alec has
the strength to reply (cheerful little soul isn’t he? Just the type of person you *really* want to be trapped in a cave with?) “Not yet it hasn’t!” Alec’s
negativity seems to drive Arcane to the opposite mood, and the doctor becomes suddenly energised and inspired; remembering that Graham is still
out there, and knows exactly where he is; “He adores and worships me. He’ll stop at nothing to find me. Dear Graham!” Arcane, as if in eager
readiness, goes over to the cave entrance and begins to move the rocks, gasping; “I know he’ll come through for me. My loyal assistant;
protégé....” The enormity of the task is too much and he gives up in exhaustion, sitting down dejectedly.
Now firmly back in reality, his mood swings round again to despondency as he contemplates Graham; “Well, protégé is a bit of an overstatement.
Fact is, the poor man’s a sorry excuse for an assistant to a scientist.” Arcane admits, continuing; “He does function moderately well as confidante,
companion and friend.” He confides to the barely listening Alec. Arcane then contemplates the concept of friendship, getting up and going over to
Alec, smiling, and remembering those days when he and Alec shared a few of those affections for one another; “It felt good, as I recall.” he says
wistfully, sitting down beside Alec. He says, regretfully, that those days are behind them and long forgotten; “Besides, sentimentality does not
become me. Not when my work demands total focus.” His mind is brought back to his current predicament, catalysing a moment of anger and
panic. “Where the hell is Graham!?” He shouts, getting to his feet hurriedly. He can’t understand why a rescue plan isn’t underway; and why he
can’t hear the sounds of men working outside the cave. The mention of work takes him back to his previous train of thought: His preoccupation with
work; of it taking precedence over other things. He tells Holland that even as a boy, his academic prowess kept him apart from the other children.
He becomes bitter at the memory of them laughing at him because he excelled in scholastics rather than their “silly football games.” Alec lies virtually
comatose as Arcane begins ranting a monologue; “If they could all see Anton Arcane today! After all, I am THE Anton Arcane: Doctor, visionary
and gifted intellectual!!” He kneels down beside Alec, shouting to him; “Do you have any grasp of what it’s like to be me, Holland? To be thinking
day and night; to have brilliant concepts and complicated reasoning constantly fermenting in you mind? Well of course you don’t!” He lectures Alec
that intelligence is like a Protozoa: Fascinating and mysterious; and forever multiplying. “I’ll tell you a secret, my friend,” he gets close to Alec;
“There are times when my mind takes on a will of it’s own.” His tone of voice is beginning to sound close to the edge; “That’s right; it does! And a
demanding bugger it is too;” Alec merely lies there groaning (weakness? Pain?, or having to be a captive audience to Arcane’s self agrandising
monologue?) Arcane continues, beginning to sound in some distress; “and that’s when the headaches begin; and my eyes throb in their sockets; and
my ears are filled with that damnable ringing!!” His face contorts in pain and he puts his hands to his head to shut out a high pitched, tinnitus-like
ringing. He’s on the verge of tears when the noise subsides. He takes his hands away, but his voice sounds close to the edge again; “If people knew
how difficult....how incredibly taxing being me is; I doubt they’d be as envious as they are!!” Making himself sound like a kindly martyr, he tells Alec
how many times he’s had to pretend everything’s all right, so he doesn’t upset or alarm people. “Can you imagine that? I actually have to act normal
to hide my superiority!?” he positively squeals, his voice rising to a demented crescendo.
OK, I'm trapped in a cave and dying.....
but what's my motivation!?
Arcane thinks back to his childhood again; and how his mother’s oppressive manner would become too much for him and he’d somehow have to
silence her incessant nagging criticisms of him. His words are snarled and bitter; then become light and casual again; almost matter-of-fact; “So I’d
simply become someone else. I became quite good at it too;” he smiles proudly, but the boasting is tinged with sadness; “acting away the pain.” The
tone again turns from contemplative memories to enthusiastic pride, as he explains to Holland that this is why acting comes rather naturally to him.
He gets up, announcing that he always thought he’d make a splendid thespian; “Of course, I excel at everything I do, but the dramatic arts hold a
special lure for me: And I’m not talking about film or television.....There’s certainly no art to be found there!” (a sly and joking dig at the series itself
perhaps?), “I’m talking about theatre!” He proudly examines the notion of standing alone on stage performing the classics. In his imagination he sees
(as do we) a spotlight appear on him. Medieval, theatrical music is heard playing in the background. Arcane, using dramatic gestures, imagines what
it’s like to be held in the centre of a spotlight and becoming someone else; holding an entire audience in the palm of his hand; spellbinding and
captivating them with his every word.
His mood is broken and the spotlight vanishes, as does the music. He turns back to Alec and reality. He looks at the helpless Alec and sneers
contemptuously; “I know what you’re thinking, beneath that drooping green veneer. If I’m so bloody marvellous, where’s the international
recognition? Don’t deny it, Holland! I can see it etched in your beady little eyes! You want to know where all the prizes are; the tributes, the
accolades from my esteemed peers; my admiring fellow colleagues!” He seems to be accusing Holland of doubts that are really his own, working
himself into a fury again; “Don’t make me laugh!” he screams in chagrin, “My peers are all deceased;” quoting such eminent names as Aristotle,
Galileo, Newton and Einstein. “Only men of real achievement could begin to understand or comprehend the totality of my scientific contribution.”
His ranting turns to a tone of misery; his mood swings becoming more frequent and desperate. His tone becomes one of bitterness with misery as he
looks at Holland, commenting on that “envious group of snivelling morons that pass themselves off as scientists.” He finds them completely
worthless; as are their awards. He seems to say this more to convince himself than anybody else. Bitterness is rife in his voice. He clearly does crave
the recognition nobody has granted him.
He goes into a melancholy state, sitting down and contemplating on the dissipating Oxygen, and the fact that he’ll soon be joining his predecessors in
death. “To be forever installed in the pantheon of greatness; what a travesty! Look at me, Holland!” Now he’s totally wallowing in misery and self
pity. Fear soon replaces this though and he abruptly stands, screaming; “How the hell can this be happening to me!?” He looks back in desperation,
again wondering where the hell Graham is. Anger is now out, and misery is back. He whines about the fates being so irrational as to take him now.
Fury takes over; a burning need to blame others rather than himself. “Damn the heavens for doing this to me!” he rants; “And the Supreme Being, if
there is one!” he screams, pointing an accusatory finger at the ceiling: And that brings him to the main thought of the moment as he contemplates
whether or not there is one.
“Hello? Is there anyone out there?”’ He intones sardonically; “Millions of your believers claim that you are. And if you are, what shall I call you?
God? Allah? Master? You must have a name you like to go by?” He suggests; “Grim Reaper”, saying; “It’s catchy; it’s got a nice ring to it: And it
occurs to me, as I stand here at your mercy; that you, creator and executioner, may well be one and the same.” He calmly continues to chat to some
non-corporeal Supreme Being; “Oh come on now, be fair. The least you can do is show yourself!” He looks sceptical. “How do I know you exist?:
Because of the complex laws of physics; the miracle of nature? Or is it the mere spectre of the Universe that is supposed to convince me? Well
sorry, my elusive deity.....” he comments cynically, claiming that all this can be explained by mathematical probability (he’s still talking an awful lot to
something he apparently disbelieves in.) He’s suddenly struck by an epiphany and seems immensely pleased with himself; that he’s out-thought the
Supreme Being; “Aha! Got you there, didn’t I!! You forgot you weren’t dealing with any ordinary man.....You’re dealing with Anton Arcane!” He
declares in grandiose fashion; “and I grant you that; I am pretty, bloody amazing. Mere chance could never account for my astonishing presence on
the Earth: So, therefore, I suppose you must exist!” (Don’t you just love the guy’s logic there!?)
Must've been a damned good party the night before!
Arcane is distracted from his diatribe by a groan from Alec (no doubt the strain of having to listen to all this is finally finishing him off!) Arcane
doesn’t like the sound of this, going over to Alec and sitting beside him. He realises that Alec is finally dying. “Strange that it brings me no joy;” he
says softly; “only emptiness.” Alec’s hand flexes in a last gesture, then goes still. He’s dead. Arcane looks at him helplessly. “Goodbye, my
adversary. I’ve won at last.” He says, his voice subdued with sadness. “Rah, Rah!” He gives a barely audible, cynical mock cheer as he looks
around at the bleak, dimly lit cavern, in which he’s now totally alone and facing death.
"I gave up Falcon Crest for this !?!?"
A rat is playing by Arcane’s tape recorder and lantern as the Doctor sits hunched in a mood of total depression. He’s still talking to himself; about
how frustrating it is to be the only one to see and grasp the big picture; and how he has to stand by and take the carping of inferior minds who could
never understand. He turns to Alec’s body, determined that Alec is still going to listen to what he has to say, even if he can’t hear anymore. “You
know I’ve been called a madman, Holland?” He says irritably; “How absurd!” commenting that it’s not surprising though. Most geniuses have been
similarly reviled. He’s back in martyr mode again. “It’s just another burden I carry, I assure you;” saying that he can sometimes barely restrain
himself for the inequity of it all: That he should be so imprisoned by his mental endowment, whilst others live their pointless little lives in blissful
ignorance; unaware of the big picture. He’s amazed that they actually seem happy. “How could that be?” He asks incredulously, “To be happy not
being informed!” He contemplates the concept of happiness. “What is happiness anyway? You and I know happiness, don’t we, Holland?” He
looks at Alec; “Well, you did before you expired!” he pats Alec affectionately on the forehead. He compares himself to Alec; that they were alike in
the ability to use their minds, and appreciate the finer things in the Universe; “and the euphoria which accompanies the love of a beautiful young
woman.” he says, saying that this was their real common bond; not science, or physics or mathematics: But manhood. “We both had to endure the
agonising loss of our beloved wives; my beautiful Tatania, and your Linda.” He’s sorry for Linda’s death, saying that he never meant for her to die.
It was an accident because of Alec’s stubborn refusal to share his discoveries with him. Unable to blame himself for anything, Arcane finds the need
to blame Alec.
He's only stunned.....Pining for the fjords!
The light from the lantern flickers and Arcane looks around nervously, his eyes darting back and forth. It seems darker, and he wonders what’s happening. “Aha, it’s begun for me, Holland!” He deduces. “Optic nerve sensitivity is waning; my limbs have less strength than before: Oxygen-Carbon Dioxide ratio is imbalanced; meaning red corpuscles weakening; unable to carry nutrients to the cellular walls. We know the scenario, don’t we?” He shouts; “it’s textbook anatomy: Classic case for medical students.” Suddenly, in his deranged imagination, a bright light is switched on, and he hears his own voice elsewhere, announcing a clinical evaluation of one “Anton Arcane: Human specimen, no more.” He sees a doctor wearing a white lab coat who looks exactly like himself, pulling a plastic sheet from a pale corpse; also looking like himself. The doctor continues; “Whatever Mr. Anton Arcane was in life, he is but a classroom demo to us now. Let’s have a go at him, shall we?” he gloats gleefully, brandishing a vicious looking saw which he puts to the Arcane corpse.
Anton at play
Arcane watches all this in horror, stepping forward and screaming “NO!!!” In a quieter voice, he steps forward gingerly, hands outstretched in a plea; “No, please! I deserve more than that, surely?” He implores, then looks down at himself, realising that it is delirium he’s experiencing. “My God, Holland. Is that how it happens? Must I die one cell at a time?” He looks around in desperation. “Where is the Angel of Death to caress me in my final moments? Will there be no poetry in my ending; or must I endure this bitter pill of torment and interminable deterioration.” He moans in self pity, then turns, screaming in sudden shock and terror as he comes face to face with a human skeleton.
Anton fears a law suit from the first beta tester
of Arcane Industries new weight loss formula
Horror strangely changes to a calm and passive expression as he becomes an illusory version of himself. He’s even wearing a different suit, and
talking to an unseen classroom of children, one of whom is sobbing uncontrollably. “Yes, Erika.” he says in a detached voice with just a hint of
irritation. “Oh do stop crying, dear...Yes: A skeleton from a real person. Who? Oh I don’t know, darling. Does it matter? He was a man, that’s all I
know!” The skeleton begins to speak; “Wait a damn minute; I’m Anton Arcane, don’t you know me?” The teacher doesn’t hear, and addresses the
children. “Now class, let’s examine the human cranium.” He grabs the Arcane skeleton’s skull as it begs him not to, reaching it’s bony hands out to
grab the teacher. Both Skeleton and teacher Arcane scream in unison, and Arcane (the real one) finds himself falling to his knees by a headstone.
“We are gathered here to pay tribute to a truly great man.” A voice intones from above him; a familiar voice....His own. He looks up to see himself
dressed in the dark suit and dog collar of a minister, bible in hand, towering above him and saying a eulogy over the gravestone; which bears the
words: “Anton Arcane: Nobody Cared.”
Talk about a change of career!
The minister continues; “Anton Arcane was a genius of legendary proportions...or so he claimed....” Arcane looks up in mute horror; “...A person
who will be revered and remembered for all his wonderful contributions to the human experience. What are they? Well, I don’t know; I’m just a
paid employee here.” Closing the bible, the minister shakes his head; “I mean there must be some good things about the man: After all, a person is
measured by that which he leaves behind when he is gone.” Arcane reaches forward, horror stricken with mounting realisation. “It can’t be true!”
He gasps, almost crying. “Have I left nothing? Nothing to the world of any merit? Not even a child to continue in my image!?” He cries out, damning
his accursed life; “I’m dead too soon!!” he wails. Then he notices Alec lying there and crawls over to him, now full of remorse. “What do I say to
you, Doctor? You’re gone now, without any chance of my rectifying the damage that I did to you; and there was plenty of that. Oh Alec!” he sighs,
“We would have reached such exhilarating heights together....” His tone changes yet again, as his ego still makes him unable to accept full
responsibility and gives him the need to blame anyone but himself; “....but now, because of your petty foolishness and your pointless orientation to
doing work for the good of others; all we’ve reached together is death!”
Suddenly, the lantern’s light flickers and begins to wane. Arcane darts towards it frantically. As it grows darker in the cave, so Arcane’s fear grows
greater, until it takes over completely. He’s begging just about anyone who will listen; “I beg you, I’ll do anything! Listen to me, Holland, if you can
still hear me; and your swamp....and God, if he’s listening. But I swear...I swear I’ll use my incredible gifts for good and only good. I promise you.
I’ll be the person you always wanted me to be, only....let me live. Don’t let me die alone here, I beg you!” By now he’s on his knees, crying
uncontrollably; “Please!! I’ll do anything, only bring me back. Don’t let me die, I beg you, please! Don’t let me die!!” The light finally goes out.
Arcane is cowering on the floor, covering his head and crying as the cave finally grows dark.
Arcane is oblivious to anything around him in the cave: The bones of long since dead animals; and highlighted, even in the gloom, are the ancient
ritualistic cave paintings. Something mysterious begins to happen. Outside, the sun shines. The light gives energy to the plants, which grow
alarmingly. Inside the cave, Alec somehow begins to regenerate, until life returns to him and finally he gains the strength to begin pushing the debris
away.
Anton wondered what else he'd said in his delirium; his mind
wandering back to that incident with Graham and the mutant sheep!
Some time later, Alec finds Arcane’s body and turns him over onto his back. He kneels over him. “You’re not dead, Arcane. You’re only in the
deepest of sleeps.” He puts one of the Lillies to Arcane’s face, telling him that the scent of the flower and the fresh air in the cave will revive him
(Alec’s been busy and the entrance is now unblocked.) Arcane begins to stir, gasping weakly to Holland to help him. “I am helping you, though the
idea makes me sick!” Alec answers harshly. He tells Arcane of the irony of what saved him: It was Arcane’s incessant talking. It used up the
Oxygen in the cave faster and gave Alec the Carbon Dioxide he needed. The sun did the rest. Arcane begins to come round more fully. “Holland,
you’re alive!” he gasps, then pats his own face as though to make sure everything’s real; “I’M alive!!” he exclaims wildlyy as joyous realisation hits
home. “It’s incredible!” he laughs; “I never thought I had a chance!” Alec looks at him; “Obviously someone did.” he intones, and Arcane looks
surprised, asking what he’s talking about; “Who?” “You said a lot of things in your final moments, Arcane.” He intones to the bewildered Doctor.
“Do you remember the promises you made if your life was spared?” Arcane pauses, remembering his demented hallucinations and, most
importantly, his final words as he was grovelling on the cave floor. A look of horror, then of abject embarrassment crosses his face. Alec presses
the point further; “The swamp heard you.....AND SO DID I!; He says sternly. Arcane ponders on this, noticing that the cave is now open and he
isn’t in any imminent danger. His look of embarassment melts into one of casual smugness. He simply dusts himself down and smiles cheerfully at
Alec; “Oh don’t be absurd, Holland;” He grins, lecturing Alec in his best patronising tone and picking up his radio; “You can’t take the ramblings of
an incoherent man seriously. You should know that by now!” He adds smarmily, patting Alec on the chest; then sauntering off out of the cave,
angrily asking Graham where the hell he is. Alec silently watches him go.
Alec didn't know which was worse,
being dead....or Arcane fondling his breast.
As Alec enters the waters of the swamp, he utters the words:
“Cheating is never wise; but cheating a promise to The Swamp is a debt that will always be paid.....eventually.”