EXT - Voronet monastery day
Ma scuzati, domnisoara, este tirziu--asteptati pe cineva?
Veronica is silent.
Excuse me Miss, it is late and everyone has gone. Do you wait for someone?
Veronica clutches her coat tighter at her throat.
I can see you are, how you say, troubled, yes? Perhaps I can help you.
Veronica lowers her head. She looks weak.
Will you share our table? A little something to eat...?
Veronica wavers, and Paraschiva catches her, then steadies her, curious about the stranger’s behavior. Veronica avoids looking at Paraschiva.
May I stay a while?
(concerned)
Of course, child, you may stay as long as you wish. You are speaking English, but I don’t think you are American, yes?
No. I am not American.
The candles SPUTTER, wax collects in pools. Paraschiva studies Veronica, while steam rises from candles.
Where are you from, child?
It doesn’t matter.
Paraschiva is surprised and visibly concerned.
My English is very bad, please, I don’t understand--are you running from something?
One candle FLICKERS and goes out. Veronica’s expression becomes grave, anguished. Her eyes fill with tears and a fine MIST continues to EMANATE from her skin, like steam. Paraschiva strains her eyes by the dimming light of the candles, not certain of what she is seeing.
I am lost from myself. Do you know? How could you know?
You are safe here. It is a good place to be when you are troubled, or lost.
Paraschiva bites her nails. She squints and assesses the woman next to her. Veronica lowers her head again. Paraschiva touches her shoulder.
(gently)
What is your name, child?
Veronica begins to weep. Paraschiva unfurls her sleeve around Veronica’s shoulders when at once Veronica collapses. Paraschiva shrinks to the floor too.
Holy Mother of God! Here--let me help you--oh!
Paraschiva tends to Veronica and notices blood on her hands and then sees blood on Veronica’s chest.
PARASCHIVA (cont’d)
Paraschiva pulls a handkerchief from her sleeve and presses it over Veronica’s chest, then puts Veronica’s hand over the cloth. She leaves quickly.
CUT TO:
hallway – CONTINUOUS
Several NUNS hurry into the church.
Church – CONTINUOUS
The nuns lift Veronica up and carry her out of the church. There is only the SOUND of their garments rustling, and their hurried footsteps.
int – chamber – CONTINUOUS
The room is Spartan, clean, one bed and a table. Nuns lay Veronica on the bed. The sisters remove her coat and loosen her clothing quickly, noticing the bloodstain on her chest. They cover her with a coarse blanket. Veronica is losing consciousness.
The sisters rub her feet and hands, moistening her face and forehead as they talk amongst themselves in whispers and hushes.
Paraschiva bends close to Veronica’s face holding an oil lamp.
Be still, and do not worry. We will take care of you. Make me a sign that you understand.
Veronica winces, then tries to focus.
This is good. You understand me. Have you some pain? Can you show me? Do not be afraid--
Veronica cranes her neck and searches the faces of the sisters that blur and fade. She reaches her hand behind her head; a spasm makes her whole body rigid, then limp.
VERONICA
Don’t touch me.
Veronica passes out and we hear the SOUND of fizzing, sparking.
CUT TO:
ext – close up of frescoes on facades – continuous
CUT TO:
int – chamber – continuous
Paraschiva and the sisters pause at the SOUND of fizzing and marvel at the SPRAY of fine sparks that seem to be originating from Veronica’s body. They all step back in amazement, then quietly, but frantically continue to tend to Veronica.
(rolling up her sleeves)
Give me bandages.
The sisters are huddled, frenetic as Paraschiva washes the site. Suddenly everyone stops. CLOSE UP of Paraschiva’s hand wiping the blood from over Veronica’s left breast; there is no wound. Blood OOZES from the skin.
CUT TO:
ext - close up of frescoes on facades – CONTINUOUS
The painted walls begin to BLISTER and a mist emanates from the walls.
CUT TO:
Int – chamber – CONTINUOUS
Paraschiva and the sisters exchange gasps.
(crossing herself)
There is no wound.
She bleeds, and there is no wound!
Child! Child! Can you hear me?
(touching Veronica’s forehead, and recoiling her hand)
Oh my God!
Veronica stiffens suddenly from another spasm then goes limp. She moans softly. Paraschiva’s handkerchief falls to the floor and one nun picks it up and looks bewildered.
What is it?
CUT TO:
three days later – chamber – day
Veronica is lying in bed. Paraschiva is soaking Veronica’s eyelids open. Her skin is pale. She moans a little then opens her eyes with difficulty, and sees Paraschiva’s face come into view.
(crossing herself)
Thank God, you are alive!
The sisters enter with a fresh water basin. One of them sponges Veronica’s face and her swollen lips. Another Sister is staring at Veronica’s chest until Paraschiva reproaches her with a stern glance.
NEXT DAY
Veronica is in bed, but awake, and wriggles out from under the sheets. She is alone, studies the room and makes for the window slowly where she looks out curiously. She shrinks away when she sees George in the distance, and continues exploring the room. Her manner is odd; she takes great notice of everything; she touches everything, smells the room, even the objects she handles.
CUT TO:
ext - plains beyond voronet – CONTINUOUS
GEORGE approaches driving the ox cart.
CUT TO:
int – kitchen – moments later
The nuns are talking, baking bread. The room is filled with light. They have flour dust on their habits.
(sinking her hands into a heap of dough)
Who do you suppose she really is?
A stray lamb.
It’s a sign, I tell you.
Paraschiva enters and evaluates the scene.
I need the young woman’s clothes.
I will get them for you. I mended the skirt and washed the blood out of her blouse. They are hanging on the line--
(bringing her hand to her mouth)
Did I hear George bring the wood?
Oh no! Do you think he noticed?
Bring the clothes--quickly.
The Sister leaves the kitchen.
But what if he asks--
Burn her things in the stove. I will handle George.
CUT TO:
EXT – MACHIAJ INSTITUTE FOR THE GIFTED
Pan of this remote mountain retreat with close up of the signage.
CUT TO:
int - dr. julia machiaj’s office night
Rich Baroque interior, fully furnished with desk, bookshelves, paintings and tapestries on the wall. A fish aquarium hums and gurgles softly; a light burns at the desk where JULIA is working. She is 40-ish, medium build, pretty.
She looks mildly fatigued but attractively composed. She plays with a wisp of her hair, slips off her shoes and draws her bare-stocking feet up under her. She leans forward and presses the button on the tape machine, listening with great interest to the sound of her own voice.
Antonio is making progress. He seems more willing to talk about his work from an aesthetic distance;
She strokes her forehead and extends her hand as she checks her nails. She fast-forwards the tape.
CUT TO:
ext - bucharest securitate headquarters – day
int – corridor – continuous
BELA UDVARI, early 60s, is walking nervously down the hall. He has a high forehead, ruddy cheeks, thick black hair and heavy brows and mustache. He is an obstetrician/gynecologist with a specialized background in genetics. He crushes a cigarette beneath his heel when a DOOR OPENS. MIHAI CICALA, the minister of the interior waves the smoke from his face and greets Bela ceremoniously.
Tovaras (comrade) Dr. Udvari! How good of you to come. Please, step inside, please.
Bela nods and enters, and immediately sees Captain PICARIU leaning against the window frame. He is tall and slender, handsome but edgy, crisp, groomed and severe in his uniform, around 35-years of age. The room is spartan with an overhead ceiling fan and a portrait of Ceausescu on the wall.
May I present Captain Liviu Picariu--Dr. Udvari. Well, then, Captain Picariu has been assigned to this case-- oh! a mere formality, you understand, dear doctor. He will assist us in finding the Istova woman. I have assured him of your total cooperation.
Bela gives a subservient nod. There is obvious tension between the Captain and the Doctor.
Naturally I will do all that I can to help you--
Of course you will. I have no doubt of that.
Cicala motions that they take a seat but Picariu remains standing. Cicala pulls a bundle of papers from his case.
I have already briefed the Captain, purely routine, doctor. He is not here to judge you, simply to ask you a few questions--standard procedure, you know all about this kind of thing.
Bela shifts uncomfortably in his chair, while Cicala rubs his lips with his fingers, as though contemplating.
Veronica Vestegean was born on July 12, 1967, making her about 22 years old, correct?
Correct, she--
And she has a sister, Emilia, correct?
A twin sister, actually--
Yes, yes, a twin. But they were separated at birth, true? In fact, the mother and father are unaware she exists?
Yes, Tovaras Minister Cicala, this is correct. You see, the project--
So, in the course of twenty-two years you have monitored the twins as part of a genetic study. (Looking up), Why?
Well, Tovaras Minister, the patient, presented a very unusual delivery—
(disaffected)
You have conducted controlled experiments on Veronica, keeping her identity a secret from her as well as her parents and sister?
(relenting)
Yes.
You may elaborate if you wish.
Bela straightens his neck.
Thank you, Minister, yes; it’s true the twins have never met. You see, the idea was--
Yes, what exactly was the idea, tovaras Udvari--that’s a Hungarian name, isn’t it?
(irritated, but ignoring the remark)
The idea was--
You have some fascination with young girls, doctor? Would a cure for cancer be so boring to research?
Bela is incredulous, Cicala rattles the papers impatiently and Captain Picariu strokes his mustache meticulously.
What exactly were the security arrangements at your facility? And why do you refer to her as the Istova woman? Isn’t her name Vestegean?
Bela clears his throat laboriously.
Well, first of all, it’s not really a facility; I wanted to create a meaningful environment for her, you understand, to project a normal home. I could not very well convince her of her new identity if she felt she were my prisoner, could I? So I gave her an identity, beginning with her name.
Captain Picariu folds his hands on the table and cocks his head, unimpressed.
Bela grows very defensive, and taps his finger on the stack of papers.
With due respect, Captain, you do not appreciate the importance--
Oh, I appreciate the importance of maintaining security, I assure you.
Bela becomes more agitated.
There are walls that the mind erects and recognizes as boundaries. These are more insurmountable than your prison walls.
Captain Picariu shrugs his shoulders sarcastically.
Yet she is gone. Poof.
Bela gropes for another cigarette, offers one to Cicala.
The Captain scoffs. Cicala stares over his glasses.
Games played at the expense of Party resources.
Hardly games, Tovaras Captain. This girl is incredibly gifted. She has talents for which I cannot account--
Why did she choose to leave now, and not before?
Bela inhales his smoke insatiably once, then again.
She had become restless.
Captain Picariu and Cicala trade a glance.
Bela Udvari (cont’d)
This is all very interesting, tovaras doctor, but the particulars of your…your research, is really of no interest to us here. Perhaps we can concentrate on finding the girl.
(resentful of the sarcasm)
She is small, lean, long dark hair--actually a replica, yes, of her twin.
Captain Picariu tugs smartly at his cuffs.
Does she have any distinguishing characteristics?
I’m afraid the things that distinguish her physiologically would escape your understanding.
Picariu loses his composure for a moment and responds in a threatening manner.
Nothing escapes me, tovaras doctor, nothing, least of all some freak that has lived her life like a rat in a laboratory.
Cicala rises and claps his hands.
That’s enough, gentlemen. Dr. Udvari, we all appreciate your investment in this project, both personally and professionally, but you must understand what is at stake here. You had promised to reunite the twins by their 18th year, and offer a splendid report at the London symposium. I believe you promised Mrs. Ceausescu the Nobel Prize--no?
And Romania shall have the prize.
I don’t have to remind you how embarrassing it would be to explain to President Ceausescu that this woman has vanished.
(angry)
You cannot comprehend the implications of the work I have done.
Look here, little man. You are expendable, you were granted this capricious project so that Elena Ceausescu could take credit for the Nobel Prize. Now I will clean up your mess and find this guinea pig you call Istova, and conclude your study for you. You will no longer live off the generosity of the Party. You will go back to being an obscure Hungarian doctor and take your place among your own kind.
Cicala raises his hands for order.
You know, Mr. Minister, perhaps the good doctor has merely hidden her away. After all, it must be a difficult thing to sacrifice twenty years of your life to a project of this scope, only to give it away to Elena Ceausescu, eh?
Don’t be a fool.
Gentlemen!!
Cicala is rankled.
Stop it at once. Find the woman; find the Istova woman, Captain. And you, dear doctor, you will finish your study the minute she is returned.
Bela leaves the room. Captain Picariu laughs. Cicala gathers the papers and hands the stack to Picariu.
When you find her, gather the rest of the data and have it transposed into Elena Ceausescu’s hand, and registered as her original work.
(haughtily)
Yes, I know the routine.
Then kill Bela Udvari.
CUT TO:
int - dr. julia machiaj’s office day
JULIA is impeccably dressed, seated at her desk and talking on the phone.
Well, fortunately the clinic is exceptionally quiet, so I have time to review your proposal.(BEAT)
Thank you, I am very proud of the work we’ve done here. It’s important for my patients to have the environment in which to confront their giftedness. (BEAT) Well, our "colony" as you call it is unique in this regard. I think your client will find the treatment he needs here at the Institute. Of course we must do a work up before we agree to accept him as a patient. (BEAT)
Property? Yes I might be interested in working something like that out. My patients often trade intellectual property in exchange for my services. It’s become something of a signature....yes. (BEAT)
Thank you. Lydia will take the details and we’ll be in touch.
She hangs up the phone, and exits.
CUT TO:
ext - Voronet monastery day
A shiny black sedan is making its way to the gate. The door opens and the lustrous boot of Captain Picariu touches the ground.
CUT TO:
back entrance to monastery
Paraschiva opens the door. The Captain is pulling the gloves from his hand.
Welcome to Voronet.
Such a quaint little shrine you have here, tovarasa. In Bucharest we find such buildings tiresome, useless. You would be surprised to see how ordinary they look when reduced to a pile of rubble.
You are welcome just the same, Captain.
CUT TO:
INT – KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
The Captain strolls arrogantly around the kitchen.
Perhaps the Captain would like to light a candle?
He scoffs.
Oh, dear lady, your primitive rites are of no interest to me, and your preoccupation with such foolishness reminds me of how many like you are rotting away in prison for their dissident activities.
Have you come to arrest me then, Captain?
(thoughtful)
You had a visitor here recently.
We have many visitors, Captain.
You gave lodging to a young woman--where is she?
We occasionally invite people to share our table, Captain, but we do not give lodging--it is prohibited.
The Captain tightens his gaze and leans in closer.
Where is the young woman who came to Voronet? A mousy woman, small, pathetic, early twenties, long dark hair, dressed in a skirt...and blouse?
Paraschiva knits her brow, strategically appeasing the Captain.
Yes, there was a young woman as I recall, a foreigner, I remember now. Forlorn, poor--she declined our invitation for dinner. I left her sitting in the church, and when I returned, she had left.
And you did not give her refuge?
She did not ask for it.
Then I may look round?
This is God’s house, Captain, you may search for your answers as you please.
He turns abruptly on his heels, steadies his frame, and then walks aggressively toward her.
You would not be the first martyr to die in prison, tovarasa.
Nor the last.
(slyly)
Voronet exists as an amusement for tourists. I urge you to think twice before you risk seeing it destroyed.
CUT TO:
ext – voronet
The Captain walks angrily to his car. He steps in a mud puddle.
Goddamn mud! Bring me something to wipe this with--there--some water from the well!
Paraschiva casts a rapid eye.
Please, allow me Captain.
She bends down and wipes the mud from his boot with the hem of her gown.
The Captain squints.
CUT TO:
int - close up well - CONTINUOUS
Veronica is hiding there.
CUT TO:
int - chamber
Veronica is at the window. She reaches her hand inside her blouse and removes a SWATCH of white cloth. A close up of the swatch reveals a detailed image in the fabric of a funeral procession. She places it in between the pages of a worn prayer BOOK on the table. Paraschiva enters.
You are in danger here, Veronica. But I have arranged to send you somewhere safe.
Veronica nods.
Tell me, do you like music? Do you like to dance?
Veronica cocks her head gently.
You look like a dancer.
CUT TO:
ext - village day
CUT TO:
int - wooden hall - CONTINUOUS
NELU and SANDU are dancers in a folk ensemble practicing the traditional calusu dance. There are several performers rehearsing, musicians are practicing, and the director is shouting. Veronica is watching, much evolved, happy, alert, and swallowing the various activities with her eyes.
The musicians are displaying their virtuosity when all of a sudden someone CALLS out.
Veronica is DANCING, executing the calusu dance step for step to the amazement of all.
Nelu and Sandu are dumbfounded.
Well I’ll be damned, look at this!
Hey--Veronica--where did you learn to do this?
She looks radiant, catching her breath.
I told you. I just dance, it just...comes to me.
It must run in your family.
Veronica reaches her hand behind her head, curiously. Nelu observes.
You’ve pulled a muscle, haven’t you? Let me rub it out.
I’ll help.
Veronica is startled by Nelu’s touch and shrinks a bit. Suddenly VASILE enters, goes to Nelu and pulls him aside.
She has to be moved. Now.
What is it, what’s wrong?
They glance at Veronica and step away together.
The driver was found in a car wreck.
So he had an accident.
No accident. He was beaten to death, securitate style.
Do you think he talked?
(shrugs)
Can’t take that chance. She has to go.
But where?
Veronica looks on.
I’ll figure something out. Thank God you’ll be leaving in the morning. At least they won’t find you boys here. I’ll be in touch, and if there is a problem, stay where you are and ask for political asylum; just don’t come back.
Nelu and Sandu exchange worried glances.
Wait--we could take her with us.
What? Don’t be stupid. She’s not one of us--the visas are all stamped and ready to go, it won’t work.
Nelu waves to Veronica.
Watch this.
He pulls her beside him. Taps out the beat and then begins a series of steps. She shadows him beat for beat. Vasile and Sandu shake their heads and smile.
We could dress her as a man--a boy, rather.
(walking around her)
I think it might work. We’d have to cut her hair, glue some of it for a mustache on her upper lip--she could pass for Petrica.
And what do we do about Petrica?
I’ll take care of Petrica.
CUT TO:
int - train station night
The ensemble is milling about, tossing baggage, and boarding the train. Sandu, Nelu and Veronica make their way through the crowd. The Securitate is present, scrutinizing everyone.
Hey--Petrica!
The three pause.
Vasile shouts from the crowd and creates a diversion.
Someone left his boots! Here! I’ve brought them!
Give them to me, I’ll see to them.
Good luck!
SOUND of the train WHISTLE. Nelu, Sandu and Veronica quickly board and disappear in the back of the train.
CUT TO:
guest room – MACHIAJ INSTITUTE
VERONICA is looking out the window. She closes her eyes.
CUT TO:
int - dr. julia machiaj’s office
Julia removes a hand-mirror from her desk drawer and checks her face, makeup and hair. She is wearing a red dress. She puts the mirror down, retrieves a pair of pearl earrings from a little box in the drawer and puts them on. She shakes her head coquettishly and then sets to work. She reads from a stack of materials on her desk then begins her dictation.
The bleeding is limited to an area over the left breast, right over the heart. The hands, specifically the palms, and the feet, and lower left rib area are unaffected. No behavioral evidence to suggest concurrent religious ecstasy as indicated by acceptable definitions of classic stigmata. Nevertheless I am not prepared to rule out some variant of stigmata. But Veronica Istova is not mimicking the wounds of Christ--
Lydia’s voice is heard on the intercom.
Excuse me, Julia, Dr. Binzer has arrived.
Julia pauses then draws a deep breath.
Send him in--oh, and bring in that report as soon as you’ve finished it--thank you.
Julia quickly rouges her lips without looking into a mirror. She stretches her shoulders back and then rises, self-conscious of her every detail The DOOR OPENS.
PETER BINZER enters. He is tall, slender, with Anglo features, neat and attractive, 50 years-old. Julia looks him over, smiles, and holds out her arms.
Peter...Peter how good of you to come. It’s nice to see you, come in--come, come, come in.
Peter strides towards her, embraces her warmly, takes both her hands and looks her over. They stand close without speaking, and after several bantered smiles he kisses her.
Ah, Julia, red becomes you--how stunning you look in that dress.
(laughing softly)
So tell me, how was your trip?
Fine, just fine.
Julia touches the hair at his temple, observing the grey.
Is this new?
(he chuckles)
I sensed an urgency in your cable, so I came straight away.
(walking over to the credenza)
Tea?
What a wonderful place you’ve made for yourself, Julia.
I can’t believe that for as many times as we’ve run into each other over the years, you’ve never once visited me here.
I can’t believe you’ve never invited me until now.
She is momentarily disarmed, recovers, hands him his tea, and lingers a second before returning to her desk.
Your specialty is multiple personalities.
Aha! A consultation at last, and here I thought you missed me.
Peter, please,
We’ve never once consulted, my dear--conferred yes, and a good deal more besides, but consulted? I’ve dreamed of such a thing!
Julia chuckles deliberately, tracing the arch of her eyebrow with her finger.
Binzer observes, and clears his throat.
Uh-oh, serious as all that?
Julia straightens the papers on her desk, and folds her hands.
Good heavens, Julia, you’re quite distraught--what is it, then?
Peter nods encouragingly, while searching through his pockets for his pipe and tobacco. Julia collects her thoughts.
A young woman appeared on my doorstep. She was supposedly smuggled out of Romania, no papers, no ID.
Peter looks surprised.
That’s not like you to accept just anyone, Julia.
Don’t think I haven’t had a nightmare over this one. I haven’t even talked it over with my attorney, but at the time, well, I had no choice. Besides, she was referred by another patient of mine, but that’s a whole different story.
I don’t follow.
Julia drops her face in her hands.
Peter seeks her attention.
Tell you what, let’s skip all that for now, why don’t we just get to it. What’s her name?
Veronica Istova. Caucasian female, approximately 20-23 years old, irregular breathing, tachycardia, BP 90/60, fever, disorientation, and (beat) hemorrhaging of the left breast area.
Peter leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest.
So, wounded, in shock...good lord, why didn’t they treat her at some local hospital in--where did you say she came from--Rumania?
(attitude changing)
Oh, Peter, it was unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
No doubt. She was bleeding to death. So was she shot? Stabbed?
I haven’t determined the nature of the wound.
Puncture? Laceration?
I cleaned up all the blood, but…but there was nothing there.
Peter is incredulous.
Nothing where?
(squinting)
There was no wound. Nothing to account for her bleeding. Yet she bled.
Peter rises from his seat and shuffles through the papers on her desk.
What are you saying to me? How are you explaining this?
I want you to examine her.
I should think you might want someone else to have a look. This is really quite out of my expertise, although it is intriguing. Why not call a priest, or something.
Julia is annoyed.
A prie---priest? Whatever for. She doesn’t need an exorcism for God’s sake; she’s not possessed! Honestly, Peter.
Well if she were possessed, I might be useful. Multiple personalities indulge in that kind of thing.
(gently)
Just examine her, Peter, do it for me.
He looks at her intensely, she runs her gaze all over him.
If it was something I thought I could handle, don’t you think I would? Her strong dissociative responses require that I rule out multiple personality disorders.
Peter tugs at his earlobe.
I’m the only one you’ve told I take it?
You’re the only one I can trust. I can’t afford to risk everything I’ve built here; I’m under constant scrutiny as it is for my work. Of course Lydia knows.
Won’t be easy.
Julia sighs deeply.
Will you?
Examine her? Of course. What about you?
What about me?
Can you handle it? I mean, it will challenge you professionally and emotionally. You ran from such things before as I recall.
A tense emotional exchange betrays a history between them.
Peter nods ever so slightly, then recovers to the matter at hand.
Does she hear voices? Does she describe seeing visions of any kind? What is her explanation for the bleeding? Can she control it?
Julia is reanimated, and turns to the file on her desk.
No, no voices as far as I know. I’m not sure about the bleeding.
Offhand, I’d say paranoid schizophrenia seems a more likely--
LYDIA KNOCKS and ENTERS. Peter rises and admires Lydia.
How do you do it? I’m on my fifth secretary. Can’t seem to keep them.
Lydia’s prepared your room--I’m sure you’ll be comfortable there. After you’ve rested, you can look over these reports.
ext - vincent’s front door - 1966 day
A special AGENT in a navy blue suit KNOCKS, and VINCENT opens the door.
Vincent Vestegean?
That’s right, who are you?
(showing ID)
Special agent Dobry. I’d like to talk to you if I could?
CUT TO:
int - living room - CONTINUOUS
Ordinary furnishings, a couple of colorful hand embroidered tablecloths, distinctively Romanian. The Agent surveys the room.
Relax--Dobry--is it? Don’t you think I’d be the first to know if my own house were bugged? Have a seat. Want a drink?
No thanks.
I told those guys I wasn’t interested in cutting a deal with them. That is why you’re here, right?
Do you recall the names of the men who came to see you?
Christ, I have enough trouble pronouncing my own name. My dad never changed it when he came to this country. Let’s see, the one was Mircea Limpede--don’t ask me to spell that--and the other, um, Mihai Cicala, yeah, that’s it.
And what exactly did they ask you to do?
Well, they wanted to contract my services for a couple of years, you know, they wanted me to bid on contracts being let for design and development of surveillance equipment.
The agent looks up from his note-taking.
Hell, Dobry, they wanted me as a technical expert to consult on the manufacturing of surveillance devices in Romania, so they can spy on people.
So they pretty much wanted you to do what you do for the United States government?
Sure, except they wanted me to do it cheaper and better. Imagine that. Kind of capitalistic for a communist country, don’t you think?
Did they offer you any money?
Vincent laughs then realizes how serious this must be.
You mean did they offer me a bribe? Is that what you’re asking? Or are you asking if I actually took the money already?
Just answer truthfully.
No. I mean it never got that far. I’m aware of the provisions of my contract. Do you think I would jeopardize my relationship with my employer?
Your contract expressly prohibits you from discussing your work with anyone, other than your rep. We know that a delegation from a third world country has approached you, and solicited your services. We’re concerned that there has been a breech in security, since they seemed to know who you were, and what your job with the government was--
Vincent is provoked.
--is. Look, take it easy. We know they made you before they contacted you. We also know you didn’t tell them anything. There’s a leak all right. We just want you to help us find it.
Vincent pours himself a drink, and offers one to the Agent. He refuses.
Mircea Limpede is technical advisor to the Romanian Intelligence division called the "Securitate". The other man--Cicala, is Minister of the Interior. You were targeted in the first place because you are of Romanian extraction, in the second place; you have a very special talent. They keep tabs on things like this; they like to use their own kind.
Vincent bristles.
Hey, I’m my own kind. I’m a businessman, a civilian, a regular guy.
We’ll be in touch if we need you.
CUT TO:
int - goverment office
VINCENT slams a letter on the desk of R.J.Collingsworth.
What the hell is this all about?
Collingsworth is a CIA "company" man, suave and aloof. He doesn’t look at the letter, and keeps his eyes glued on Vincent.
Your contract is void. You violated a condition of our agreement, so Vestegean Industries is no longer in a position to design and manufacture surveillance equipment for the company.
(angry, nervous)
That’s not fair.
And all of your patents have been revoked.
FLASHFORWARD
int - guest room machiaj institute night
Peter stretches, having just read over the files. He walks about the room, exploring the art objects.
int/ext - CONTINUOUS
Peter opens the French doors onto the balcony, and takes in the view. He looks as though he realizes something is missing, then turns, spies the ivy growing along the brick and picks a sprig. He goes back inside, puts the ivy in a glass of water, and sets it in an appropriate place.
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int - dr. julia machiaj’s office
Julia is checking her makeup in the mirror and hears a KNOCK at the door. Peter opens the door and enters.
She quickly smoothes the back of her calf, checking her stockings, and greets him with a smile.
Am I disturbing you?
Not at all, I’ve just looked in on my other guests.
Guests?
I don’t call them patients.
Of course.
I’m just brewing a fresh pot of coffee.
Julia tends to an elegant coffee maker, and fine china cups.
Wonderful. I could use some, I’ve just finished your notes--is that all there is?
He walks up behind her, stands very close, and smells her hair. She lingers, and reveals emotion on her face, but he cannot see it. She interrupts the moment and heads back to her desk. He seems not surprised.
Well, what do you think?
I think you’re taking a tremendous risk treating her at all, based on a sketchy report at best.
You’re an alarmist. Things are different here on the continent.
Tucked away in this remote mountain resort? Come on, Julia, there is still protocol, release forms, why, you can’t even be sure who this woman really is.
I’m simply treating a patient in need of medical attention.
Are you, now? Your report is full of incongruencies, unknown variables, not
to mention that stigmata thing. What’s wrong with you—you yourself said you can’t afford to attract this kind of attention.
Julia returns to the alcove and pours the coffee. Peter sits down. There is a bit of tension.
It’s true, I might never have accepted a case like this under ordinary circumstances.
Don’t you think she’d have a better chance of being found if you gave her over to the authorities? Surely someone must be looking for her.
Lydia BUZZES on the intercom.
Excuse me, Julia--
Hold my calls, please.
But it’s Phillip.
Julia brightens. Phillip looks curious.
Peter, darling, do you mind?
He waves his hand, aloofly. She pulls the earring from her ear and turns obliquely as her voice softens.
Phillip, darling, what a nice surprise.
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int - hotel room - CONTINUOUS
PHILLIP CAPALIA talking on the phone. He is Julia’s son, and a talented violinist. He is intense, handsome, mid-20s.
How’s my girl?
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int - dr. julia machiaj’s office - CONTINUOUS
Fine, fine. I’ve been following the tour. They say you are magnificent.
Peter inclines his ear slightly.
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int - hotel room - CONTINUOUS
Oh you know how it is. They say I am too temperamental at rehearsals, and that I’m--contrary--yes that’s it, contrary! But then they all want to drink champagne in my dressing room after the third curtain call. What about you--any new prodigies I should be worried about?
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INT – DR. JULIA MACHIAJ’S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
Nonsense, Phillip, there’s no one quite like you.
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int – hotel room - CONTINUOUS
Mother--there’s something I need to talk to you about, I’m coming to see you.
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int – dr. juLIA MACHIAJ’S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
(surprised)
When?
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int – HOTEL ROOM - CONTINUOUS
The first train out after my next concert--I have to go now.
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INT – DR. JULIA MACHIAJ’S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
When, Phillip--
CLICK. Peter dusts his lapel, looking aloof.
Anyone I know?
You mean Phillip? No. You haven’t met him. As I was saying, I purposely omitted some things from the Istova file--
She notices Peter is a bit put-off.
He’s a patient of mine, so to speak, I’ve known him...since he was a little boy...
A younger man?
Phillip Capalia.
The violinist?
Yes. Now about the Istova case.
Quite.
Let’s have a look at her, shall we?
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int - guest room machiaj institute.
Veronica is by the window. Julia and Peter are in the doorway. Julia pats Peter on the lapel indicating he should wait to enter.
Veronica, Veronica dear, I thought you might appreciate seeing a fresh face for a change. This is Dr. Binzer. He’s an old friend of mine, come from England to meet you.
Veronica looks askance. Snow is falling furiously at the window. At once Veronica looks directly at Peter.
Welcome, Dr. Binzer.
(Observing her in detail)
How do you do, Veronica--may I call you Veronica?
Call me what you like.
Well, do you prefer some other name?
Not yet.
Julia and Peter trade glances.
Very well, Veronica, would you mind stepping over to the bed? I’d like to examine you if I may.
Peter observes her as she sits down, and proceeds to steady her head, and looks her over.
Have you any pain or discomfort? I understand you were wounded.
He is palpating the lymph nodes along her neck and collarbone.
Yes.
Where?
You will not see it.
Peter bends her chin to her chest.
Oh, I don’t know, Veronica. I’m pretty good, they tell me. In fact, I’m very good at finding wounds that are hidden. Let me try, at least. Any childhood diseases? Measles? Mumps?
I suppose.
Any injuries? To the head? Internal?
Veronica touches her hair, moves her fingers to the back of her head. Peter observes this.
Have you ever been in an accident?
Julia is attentive.
The x-rays were clear.
Let me thump your back, then.
Peter is examining her spine, notices her SHORT hair.
What is it?
No split ends--Have you recently cut your hair? Perhaps you’ve had a surgery--anything like that?
Veronica seems confused, anxious.
VERONICA
PETER
Recognized by whom? Is someone after you?
Veronica, dear...are you in danger? You must tell us everything so that we can protect you. You are safe here
Peter feels the back of her head. He winks at Julia.
Have a look.
(feeling behind Veronica head, and looking intently)
Why it’s a scar--I missed it completely.
No matter. It’s been there a very long time.
What can you tell us about this scar, Veronica?
I’ve always had it. Since I was born. I’ve never seen it, but I have felt it.
Peter retrieves a flashlight from his pocket and steadies her head. He flashes the light across her eyes, and seems baffled.
Julia looks down at the floor, uncomfortably.
(aware of Peter’s expression.)
I know.
He’s going to tell me that I’m dead, isn’t he.
(shocked)
Her pupils are fixed and dilated. This woman’s
in a bloody coma!
Veronica looks at Peter and Julia.
I am not dead, Dr. Binzer, just not whole.
Peter lays his hands on her shoulders and looks her square in the eyes.
You’ll forgive me, Miss, but you’re the first
comatose patient I’ve ever talked to.
Julia hands Peter the stethoscope, anticipating his next move.
I’d like to listen to your heart, Veronica,
please open you blouse for me.
Veronica complies, and a small dressing falls from the open blouse. Peter picks it up, peeks inside the blouse and sees nothing. He LOOKS again at the bandage, and stares incredulously. He sees a detailed impression of Captain Picariu.
I can’t explain this anymore than I can
explain her fixed and dilated pupils.
Peter looks at Veronica, setting the swatch aside.
Every time the dressing is changed, a different image
appears in the cloth. There seems to be no common
denominator, but it’s possible I’ve simply missed it.
I started to save them when I realized what was happening.
And what is happening?
Veronica is becoming agitated. She begins to perspire, and her breathing becomes labored. Julia notices Veronica is getting anxious. She moves toward her.
What is it, what’s going on?
Julia tries to calm Veronica. She makes her lie down, and immediately checks her pulse.
There there, dear, everything is fine, you mustn’t excite yourself.
Veronica is trembling. Julia covers her with a blanket and
pulls Peter aside.
She has had episodes...
What kind of episodes?
Well--
Veronica is having a strange seizure. She begins to shake, and a HISSING, fizzing sound is heard as she sweats profusely. A subtle CRACKLING sound is heard, and small, micro sparks BURST from her body.
Good Lord!
Don’t touch her!
Peter prepares an injection, approaches Veronica, but when he puts his hands on her, he recoils suddenly from an electrical shock given off by Veronica’s body.
Are you alright, Peter?
I don’t know. She’s all wet, perspired or something, but look--it’s, foaming, I don’t know how to describe it--like seltzer.
Close up of Veronica’s neck, shoulders, and face, with a fine fizzing liquid emanating from her skin.
Veronica! Veronica!
What the--
Peter and Julia draw back in great bewilderment as the sparks fly.
She’s giving off a charge of some kind.
It’s happened before?
In an instant, the sparks collect in a diaphanous vapor above her body. In another instant it is over.
Julia rushes towards her, and puts her hand on her face.
It passes. She’s cool and dry--look.
The sheets--
A fine cinnabar spray settles on the bedclothes.
Ext - park day 1967
Vincent is talking with Mircea Limpede. People are milling about.
I’m sorry to hear you’ve lost your job.
Yeah, well, nothing lasts forever.
Now that you have some time, perhaps you’d like to visit Romania?
Maybe I will make a trip to the old country some day.
Oh, Mr. Vestegean, Romania is not an old country--it is the future. We have new goals, new visions.
Vincent laughs.
Oh, don’t believe everything you read in the papers. I’m not washed up yet. Just because the government has sent me packing doesn’t mean a better opportunity isn’t around the corner.
Come to Romania. Walk the places where your father and mother walked. You are one of us; it is in your blood.
I’m an American, born and raised.
All the more reason. You can come and go as you please. But you owe it to your father to see his native land.
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int - parked van - CONTINUOUS
Agents are monitoring the conversation.
He’s taking the bait.
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Ext - park day - CONTINUOUS
Vincent is looking agitated, but maintains his composure.
Look, as soon as I get things straightened out with my patent, I’ll let you know.
Mircea rises, reaches into his breast pocket.
Here is an open-ended ticket to Romania--first class, and some spending money. I know, I know, you are proud, Romanians are proud people. But take it. We are leaving in the morning. You do what you think is best, but remember, your father would be proud of you, we are proud of you. The Americans--they don’t appreciate you, they just use you.
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int - bucharest airport - day
A DELEGATION including Mircea Limpede greets Vincent.
Welcome, Vincent. I knew you’d come. How was your flight?
(uncomfortable)
Okay, but I’d like to wash up a bit.
Plenty of time for that. We’ll meet with the Minister of the Interior, and then a driver will take you to your hotel--it will only be a moment.
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Int - goverment office
Mihai Cicala, Mircea Limpede and Vincent are seated. An AIDE pours drinks.
So, welcome to Romania, Mr. Vestegean. I hope you will find your stay here very rewarding.
Me too.
Mircea tells me that you will be consulting for us?
That’s the deal--yeah, I’ll be consulting.
(To Cicala)
Vincent is very tired, I promised him he could go directly to his hotel and freshen up.
Yes yes, of course. Just one moment--
Cicala motions to the aide, who leaves the room and returns with IRINA, a young attractive woman in her late twenties. She is dark, small framed.
Irina Prahova--Mr. Vestegean.
Welcome, Mr. Vestegean.
Vincent is delighted.
Thank God you speak English.
She smiles, and they all chuckle at his remark.
More like thank the