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Script VO de Fall to Earth

Torchwood  Fall To Earth

IANTO: The twenty-first century is when everything changes. And Ianto Jones is ready.

Orchestral music. Someone panting and dialing on a phone.

IANTO: (panicking) All right. Here we go. Come on, come on, come on. Ah! Eugh!

IANTO: Hello.

IANTO (in pain): Sorry, I’m – I’m on a spaceship and it’s falling out of the sky.

PHONE: You’ve reached the Jubilee Pizza Company. There’s no one in right now to take your order. Please speak after the beep. Beep.

IANTO: (yells something)

Torchwood theme.

IANTO: Good luck. Blood everywhere. Oh, please, someone!

FEMALE COMPUTER VOICE: Flight path deviation. Warning.

Phone ringing.

IANTO: Jack!

WOMAN, ON THE PHONE: (calmly) Is that Mr. Jones?


WOMAN: Mr. Ianto Jones?

IANTO: Yes, oh, thank god, thank god !!

WOMAN: Mr. Jones, if I may call you that.

IANTO: Sure!

WOMAN: If I can have a moment of your time. Have you recently experienced an accident at work?

IANTO: What?

ZEYNEP: My name is Zeynep. Can I interest you in our accident insurance policy?

IANTO: (laughing) Look! Actually, I’m bleeding to death on a spaceship falling out of the sky.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones?

IANTO: You heard me! Listen. Hear that? (there's a persistent sound like metal clanking) That’s the sound of Ephraim Salt’s Skypuncher ship crashing (merci wiki, ndr^^).

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones.

IANTO: Google it. First private space flight, breaking news, not going well!

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones?

IANTO: Is that all you can say?

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones, I must apologize if I have phoned at an inconvenient moment.

IANTO: (mad laughing)

ZEYNEP: If you wish, one of our operators can phone you on another day.

IANTO: Oh sure, I’ll have plenty of time tomorrow.

ZEYNEP: Very good then. I’ll update our records. Thank you for your time.

IANTO: (quietly) Please…

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones?

IANTO: I know how it sounds, but I’m not hoaxing.

ZEYNEP: Of course not. However, I can sense that I have called at an inconvenient moment and will be determinating the....

IANTO: Alright! Alright.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones?

IANTO: I am interested in your accident insurance policy.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones?

IANTO: I would like to buy some accident insurance – if you’ll stay on the line.

ZEYNEP: A very good choice, Mr. Jones. Would you like our domestic or worldwide policy?

IANTO: Worldwide.

ZEYNEP: Very good. This policy is for accident or injury in the work...

IANTO: This! Yes. Yes, fine.

ZEYNEP: If I may, I must just finish. This policy does not cover time off work caused by a disease process or long-standing medical conditions. But we do also offer optional compensation for income loss through -

IANTO: Yup. T-t-take the box, sure – agh!

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones?

IANTO: Nothing! It’s… nothing. Carry on !

ZEYNEP: Do you have any pre-existing conditions?

IANTO: Uh, my leg’s bleeding everywhere.

ZEYNEP: I’m afraid we can’t cover you for that.

IANTO: Pity.

ZEYNEP: I am sorry. Could I have an email address?

IANTO: Ugh. [email protected].

ZEYNEP: Y for ‘Yanto’...

IANTO: I! A! N! T! O! At!

ZEYNEP: Thank you. Now, how will you be paying today?

IANTO: (gasps)

ZEYNEP: By credit, or debit card?

IANTO: Uh, hold on. (he moves around, sounding breathless). Credit.

ZEYNEP: There’s a three-pound surcharge.

IANTO: Don’t care.

ZEYNEP: And the name on the card?

IANTO: Mr. I. Jones.

ZEYNEP: Can I trouble you for the long number?

IANTO: (sighs) Seven six seven four nine eight four three three three three three three zero two one.

ZEYNEP: So the card ends in two zero three one.

IANTO: No, three zero two one!

ZEYNEP: Oh, of course, Mr. Jones. I apologize. Three zero two one.

IANTO: Yes. God, yes. (quietly) God.

ZEYNEP: (over the sound of something in the spaceship) And now, Mr. Jones, may I have the expiry date?

IANTO: You’re kidding. Zero five ten.

ZEYNEP: …That seems to have gone through.

IANTO: Oh, lovely.

ZEYNEP: Congratulations, Mr. Jones. You are fully insured. The policy documents are being emailed to you now. You have forty-eight hours to cancel. Have a safe day at work.

IANTO: I’ll be sure to!

A brief explosion somewhere.


ZEYNEP: Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Jones?

IANTO: Stop this thing crashing.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones?

IANTO: Look. All calls are recorded for training purposes, yes?


IANTO: I’m telling the truth. I really am on Ephraim Salt's Skypuncher. Something has gone wrong, and the one person who can help me is you!

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones, I…

IANTO, INTERRUPTING: If you don’t, and this recording surfaces, you are going to become famous for all the wrong reasons. Now there’s every chance that it won’t. But guess what, this is life, and these things have a habit of popping up.

ZEYNEP: I just sell insurance.

IANTO: Oh, today you’re gonna do a lot more than that. Okay. I need you to Google the plans of the Skypuncher. Anything you’ve got.

ZEYNEP: I can’t do that.

IANTO: Oh, you can.

ZEYNEP: I cannot, Mr. Jones. I’m afraid our desktops are locked.

IANTO: …Right! Not anymore. I’ve sent you a very special code from my phone to your headset.

ZEYNEP: (after a beeping sound) Oh! What is that? What have you done to my computer?

IANTO: Good, isn’t it? Perhaps you’re starting to believe me. Your computer is now one of the most powerful information indexing machines on the planet.

ZEYNEP: Who are you?

IANTO: Mr. Jones.

ZEYNEP: But... (stuttering)

IANTO: Ooh, someone’s gone off-script! Together we are gonna find out how to get the ship down.

ZEYNEP: Can’t you do that yourself?

IANTO: My phone’s good, but not that good.

ZEYNEP: Shouldn’t you even have your phone on a plane?

IANTO: Least of my problems! Please!


IANTO: Oh – Damn it!

ZEYNEP: I am sorry, Mr. Jones. I am going to have to terminate this call.

SKYPUNCHER COMPUTER: Please correct angle of descent. Re-engage autopilot.

IANTO: (yelling) I don’t know how! (calmly) It’s fine. Goodbye.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones? Cockpit. Big, green button.

IANTO: What?

ZEYNEP: Big green button. Press it now.

Ianto presses it. It sounds like something is powering down.

SKYPUNCHER COMPUTER: Autopilot engaged.

IANTO: (calming as the sounds of chaos die down to nothing) Oh. How did you know that?

ZEYNEP: I play a lot of flight simulators. Figured this was worth a shot.

IANTO: We’re climbing. Amazing. Thank you.

ZEYNEP: I am glad to have helped you today, Mr. Jones. Is there anything further I can assist you with?

IANTO: I’m still gonna need you to Google everything you can about this ship.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones, are you sure there is no one else I can connect you to?

IANTO: Oh no. I’ve got you on my side now. Haven’t I?

ZEYNEP: … Can I ask what you are doing on the ship?

IANTO: Uh, feeling very scared? (in pain) Ah! Ah…

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones?

IANTO: Sorry, it’s – my leg.

ZEYNEP: Is it bleeding very badly?


ZEYNEP: I am afraid it is our policy to transfer such calls to the emergency services –


ZEYNEP: They may be able to –

IANTO, INTERRUPTING: No, you can’t do that – please, trust me. It’s not – it’s, it’s it’s – complicated. Listen. My leg? It’s fine.

ZEYNEP: Is it?

IANTO: Yep! Barely a scratch.

ZEYNEP: By which I mean you have of course staunched the bleeding with a tourniquet?

IANTO: Umm, yes?

ZEYNEP: By using something to hand, such as a bandage or a tea towel.

IANTO: A tea towel in space? (nervous  laugh) Uh, I’ve, I’ve got my necktie. I could use that.

ZEYNEP: That would work.

IANTO: Okay.

ZEYNEP: I’m sure you’ve tied it very tight.

IANTO: (high-pitched, strained) Augh! Yes.

ZEYNEP: Tighter than that.

IANTO: (brief squeak)

ZEYNEP: Good. Then I will not be needing to transfer this call –


ZEYNEP: - to the people who are undoubtedly best-qualified to deal with your situation.

IANTO: It’s – complicated.

ZEYNEP: As I can see from Google... There’s no Mr. Jones listed on the passengers in the news report.

IANTO: No, I’m not a, a passenger, I’m the, eh… butler.

ZEYNEP: The air steward?

IANTO: Mm, prefer ‘sky butler’.

ZEYNEP: I see.

IANTO: Listen. First private space flight. Lots of celebrity passengers, Ephraim Salt himself, it was always going to be a high-profile event. I had to be on-board to make sure nothing happened, nothing went wrong.

ZEYNEP: And how is that going, Mr. Jones?

IANTO: I think everyone else is dead and something’s wrong with the ship.

ZEYNEP: I see.

IANTO: … We’re climbing again. Any luck finding the Skypuncher manual?

ZEYNEP: Still working on that. This software is incredible. You should sell it.

IANTO: I’ll bear that in mind.

ZEYNEP: Please allow me to reassure you, Mr. Jones, that this information is being used with complete confidentiality. And I definitely haven’t looked up a girl I went to school with.


ZEYNEP: She’s so fat! And has maxed out four credit cards.

IANTO: (short laugh) Oh, perhaps you should sell her some insurance.

ZEYNEP: (amused) I will bear that in mind, Mr. Jones.

IANTO: (over the sound of shuffling) Just getting the pilot out of his chair – Ah! May as well enjoy the viewing comfort. There.

ZEYNEP: And how is the view?


IANTO: Magnificent. We’re at the edge of the atmosphere. Long way up. My friend Gwen says that flying’s two moments of terror and hours of boredom. Heh. Right now it’s just terror.

ZEYNEP: Your friend Gwen?

IANTO: Colleague.

ZEYNEP: Both sky butlers?

IANTO: Not exactly.

ZEYNEP: Thought not. What are you? Are you a spy?


ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones, may I ask what is your current occupation?

IANTO: Rather not say.

ZEYNEP: I see.

IANTO: The view is really amazing. It’s getting quite – floaty. Not 2001, but – Listen. … I just dropped my pen, and it sauntered.

ZEYNEP: I do like that word.

IANTO: Your English is very good, for a, a, I mean... Oh god, look, sorry, I just assumed call centers are always abroad, so.

ZEYNEP: I’m in Glasgow.

IANTO: Right, sorry.

ZEYNEP: Kidding. I’m in Izmir.

IANTO: Which is?

ZEYNEP: Look down. Turkey. We’re on the left. Hello!

IANTO: Ooh, by the beach!

ZEYNEP: Ha. No. We have a river that’s so poisonous you don’t hang your washing up when the wind changes. My office is on the edge of the city and has a lovely view of an illegal sand quarry where people come to crush cars.

IANTO: Nice.

ZEYNEP: I’ll send you a postcard.

IANTO: Still think my view is better.

ZEYNEP: And Mr. Jones, what is the purpose of your journey today?

IANTO: Because – because, no one believed me when I told them Ephraim Salt was in danger. Wanted to save him. Tried my best. Guess you could call it my – sense of duty.

ZEYNEP: You are definitely a spy. Aren’t you, Mr. Jones?

IANTO: (hesitates) Yes. I’m a spy.

ZEYNEP: Ooh, tell me more.

IANTO: I would, but it’s complicated.

ZEYNEP: Have you a license to kill?

IANTO: You teasing?

ZEYNEP: I spend all day being sworn at by complete strangers. Now it’s my turn. Anyway, we love spies here. Do you know what the Turkish is for ‘briefcase’?

IANTO: Surprise me.

ZEYNEP: James Bond’s handbag.

IANTO: That’s, ah.

ZEYNEP: I know. How’s space?

IANTO: Quite close, now. The sky’s really curved. We’re heading towards the curviest bit of the – curve, and everything looks odd. Half of the view is broad daylight, and above that, it’s nighttime. There’s a sort of rainbow between the two.

A dull booming sound.

IANTO: Whoa!

ZEYNEP: Are you alright, Mr. Jones?

IANTO: Yup, bit of turbulence. But, uh, at this height... that’s tricky. (exhales) We’re leaving the atmosphere. So gradual. But it’s amazing. Feel cold. It must be cold outside. How’s the computer? Might need those texts back soon.

ZEYNEP: So you can turn around. The computer’s still working on that.

IANTO: In theory, we’re gonna do a vanity loop around Ephraim Salt’s newest satellite and then head back down. Can’t believe we’re gonna do all that on autopilot.

ZEYNEP: And how are you at flying a plane?

IANTO: Not great.

ZEYNEP: James Bond wouldn’t say that.

IANTO: Look, I am so not James Bond. Being a spy, it’s um. It’s um. My life is mostly very dull.

ZEYNEP: You’re on a spaceship that’s being attacked by terrorists.

IANTO: Well, yes, possibly, could be an accident.

ZEYNEP: An accident you predicted? Mr. Jones. I sell insurance for a living. We call that ‘fishy’.

IANTO: Right. Can I have a moment?


IANTO: Space is very… Whoo. …Right, gonna check on the other passengers. Make sure they’re all strapped in. Don’t want a cabin full of floating corpses. (unbuckles) Agh. Right. This is like swimming. Little bit uh, wow. Everyone’s strapped in. They look... peaceful.

ZEYNEP: I thought you said they were dead.

IANTO: Think so. All a bit of a blur. My leg was – right. Currently I’m feeling up a Big Brother winner.

ZEYNEP: That’s not a usual situation.

IANTO: Isn’t it? No pulse I can detect. It was so sudden. There was a bang, and...

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: Mr. Jones? I’m losing you.

IANTO: We’re as close as you can get to the communications satellite. Signal should be peachy.

ZEYNEP: Yeah, there’s a whole world between my living and my balcony. Try getting a signal out there. Not a chance.

IANTO: We’re really getting close to the satellite. Autopilot’s showing off. Loop around and then back down. That’s where I’m really gonna need your help.

ZEYNEP: Computer says it’s at seventy-three percent. Whatever that means.

IANTO: Annoying.

ZEYNEP: Isn’t it, Mr. Jones.

The sound of jets/rockets gets louder.

IANTO: We’re about to turn around.

SKYPUNCHER COMPUTER: Proximity alert. Proximity alert.

IANTO: No! No!

Something explodes.

IANTO: Augh! Agh! (continues to struggle as the ship goes nuts again and alarms sound)

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones? Mr. Jones! Can you hear me, Mr. Jones? Are you all right?

IANTO: Not really, no. Small fire, and uh, stuff.

ZEYNEP: What’s happened?

IANTO: Smashed into the satellite, just swerved. Thought that would be it, but, hey-hey, still here.

ZEYNEP: You destroyed the communications satellite?

IANTO: I didn’t, the ship just – Wait.


IANTO: (flicking switches) The autopilot’s off. Really need those plans now!

ZEYNEP: They’re still downloading.

IANTO: (quickly) You don’t understand, I need to know how to turn the ship around, otherwise we’re just gonna head off into space.

ZEYNEP: It’s nearly there. Can you just...

IANTO, INTERRUPTING: No, I can’t! If I go much further, I’ll be out of telephone range!

ZEYNEP: Right, I’m on it, I’m –

On-hold music starts and a recorded message plays, saying “Your call is important to us. Please continue to hold. Have you considered the benefits of changing your contents insurance provider?“

IANTO: No. No, no, no, no, no no!

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones, are you still there?

IANTO: Yes! Thank you! But you're very faint. Can you speak up?

ZEYNEP: Listen to me. This call has gone over the service standard time limit after a purchase. The system has flagged us off.

IANTO: But surely...

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: I don’t want the computer to notify my manager.

IANTO: Oh, no no, of course not, you’re only saving my life!

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones.

IANTO: What-what’ve you got?

ZEYNEP: I’m sorry?

IANTO: Sell me something!

ZEYNEP: Uh, pet insurance?

IANTO: Myfanwy!

ZEYNEP: How do you spell that?


ZEYNEP: (as Ianto ‘m-hms’ along) M for mother, Y for yeti, F for Freddy, A for apple, N for no, W for weather, Y for yeti.

IANTO: Very good!

ZEYNEP: And is that a boy or a girl?

IANTO: You’re on script again, aren’t you?

ZEYNEP: Of course, sir. This will only take a moment.

IANTO: Girl! I think.

ZEYNEP: Dog? Cat? Bird? Rabbit? Or other?

IANTO: …Bird! Yeah, bird.

ZEYNEP: What sort of bird?

IANTO: Exotic.

ZEYNEP: Any pre-existing medical conditions?

IANTO: Nope!


IANTO: Ah, uh –

ZEYNEP: I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that, Mr. Jones.

IANTO: Doesn’t matter, three!

Mechanical sounds in the background.

ZEYNEP: And are you happy for me to use the existing payment if there’s a contact information for Myfanwy?

The sounds are pretty loud now.

IANTO: Agh! Yes, I am!

ZEYNEP: Then I am pleased to tell you that Myfanwy is now insured.

Quieter again.

IANTO: (silly) Hooray!

ZEYNEP: Anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Jones?

IANTO: Yes, help me turn this thing around.

ZEYNEP: Yes. You need to engage the left thruster gently to turn her back to Earth.

IANTO: And how do I do that?

ZEYNEP: In front of you is a display pad with a, um. It looks a bit like a steering wheel.

Booming sounds on the ship.

IANTO: Yes, but the steering wheel is locked.

ZEYNEP: Well good. That’s only for using glide mode.

IANTO: What –

ZEYNEP: Not important right now. I’ve only read so much of the manual. How did this computer find this? Anyway. Under the steering wheel, two flippy switches like pinball nudgers.

IANTO: Pinball nudgers? Ah! Got ‘em!

ZEYNEP: Flip the right one, and flip it only to the cross (?) just above the apogee.

IANTO: Apogee…

ZEYNEP: Til the nose is just poking into the stars and not the sky.

IANTO: Right. The right flipper.

ZEYNEP: Yes. Careful. They’re more like hairdryers than engines.

IANTO: Okay. Done. Now?

ZEYNEP: We’re relying on momentum to push you back into the atmosphere.

IANTO: It’s working! Slowly.

ZEYNEP: Slowly is good.

IANTO: How will I know when I hit re-entry?

ZEYNEP: It will get bumpy. And warm.

Alarms sound.

IANTO: Whooaa, got bumpy! Wasn’t this bad coming up!

ZEYNEP: Then your angle of flight is programmed by experts. I sell insurance and you pour drinks.

IANTO: And spy. Whoa! (whimpers)

ZEYNEP: You should now be entering controlled descent.

IANTO: Falling slowly.

ZEYNEP: If we get it right. Now, how much of the control desk is lit up?

IANTO: Uh, all of it. Most of it. I think. Agh!

ZEYNEP: Apparently we’re looking for a panel that reads ‘glider wing deployment’. Three down, two across.

IANTO: Can’t see it.

ZEYNEP: From the left.

IANTO: Uh, got it.

ZEYNEP: There should be a red light and a graphic. Looks a bit like, eh – You’ve seen Star Wars?

IANTO: Of course, I have.

ZEYNEP: An X-wing. When it goes green, that’s time to unfold the wings. They’ll slow you down. Then the steering will unlock a new anti-glide mode. See the pips underneath.


ZEYNEP: The dots. Right. Dots? Some red ones, some green ones.

IANTO: Yes! Yes.

ZEYNEP: When you are – Oh, hold on, please, Mr. Jones.

IANTO: What? Hello? Look, t-the red ones are switching off. What does that mean? There’s seven green ones – now six – now five –

ZEYNEP: I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Jones. I left the page on the printer.

IANTO: You printed out a spaceship flight manual?

ZEYNEP: Are there two green lights?

IANTO: Three!

ZEYNEP: Good. When there are two, engage the wings.



He does so. Alarms go off.

IANTO: Hasn’t worked. It hasn’t worked!

ZEYNEP: What? Try it again.

IANTO: Really?

ZEYNEP: Sorry. Eh, give me a second, please.

IANTO: (over a crashing sound) Whoa.

ZEYNEP: Okay. You can try it again.

IANTO: (flicking switches again) Sure.

ZEYNEP: Anything?


ZEYNEP: Maybe you’re doing it wrong.

IANTO: I’m not doing it wrong.

ZEYNEP: Little toggle (?) engage!


ZEYNEP: Is there a button labeled ‘diagnostic’? I mean, there is, but can you see it?

IANTO: Yes, and yes!

ZEYNEP: Press it!

Ianto presses it, and all goes quiet.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones? Is there anything more I can help you with, Mr. Jones? … You do know that after ten seconds of silence, I must terminate this call, don’t you, Mr. Jones.

IANTO: The whole panel’s gone blank.

ZEYNEP: (quietly) Oh.

IANTO: Thanks. Thanks for that.

Weird beeping sound.

IANTO: Oh, no! It says there’s not enough pressure in the system for the wings to deploy.

ZEYNEP: Meaning?

IANTO: That’s it! You may as well try steering a brick! Thanks for trying, you’re welcome to hang up now. Unless you like listening to a whole lot of screaming.

ZEYNEP: I’m sorry, Mr. Jones.

IANTO: It’s fine, I’ll hang up myself! Just, when a handsome man comes to your desk, and he will –


IANTO: Tell Jack I’m sorr- What?

ZEYNEP: You said there wasn’t enough pressure in the system. You made it sound like the breaks on my car.

IANTO: Well, pretty much. I mean, I’m no expert. Some kind of hydraulic system? What are you suggesting, that I pull up the flooring and yank the cables?

ZEYNEP: Can you do that?

IANTO: Yeah! This is hardly a 747. (does so, creaking noises from the ship) Yep! There we go. All labeled. But there’s no point, it’s not that simple, is it. Oh, there’s even a widget, like when you probe your bike tyre!

ZEYNEP: A valve.

IANTO: A valve, yeah! I could puff!

ZEYNEP: You don’t need to. Is there a fire extinguisher on board?

IANTO: You’re kidding. You’re not, are you.

ZEYNEP: Just a thought, if there’s not enough pressure in the system…

The sound of shifting and moving on the ship, then pumping air into something.

IANTO: The nozzle’s not a great fit, but it’ll have to do.

A beeping noise sounding like confirmation.

IANTO: I don’t believe it. How’d you know that?

ZEYNEP: Unreliable family car. Also, I’m a fire warden.

IANTO: Oh, that’s amazing. I’m back in the cabin and the flight deck’s lit up like a Christmas tree. Oh, I could kiss you.

ZEYNEP: Flirtation’s not allowed, Mr. Jones.

IANTO: They monitor that.

ZEYNEP: And heavy breathing, so you need to watch that.

IANTO: I’ll try to make my panic less... sexpesty.

ZEYNEP: Please do.

Ianto types something. The sound of wings extending.

SKYPUNCHER COMPUTER: Wings extended. Entering glide mode.

IANTO: Woohoo! We’ve actually done it!

ZEYNEP: I am pleased! Do I need to find out how to teach you to fly the ship?

IANTO: Well, the steering wheel thingy’s unlocked.

ZEYNEP: Steering column.

IANTO: Steering wheel. Now if you can skip a few pages ahead in the manual to the section marked « landing »…

ZEYNEP: Of course. (flips pages) Why are you doing this?

IANTO: Trying not to die?

ZEYNEP: Trying to save people you don’t even know.

IANTO: Ah, as I’ve said, sense of duty.

ZEYNEP: Right.

IANTO: Look. In my line of work, it’s the kind of judgement call you have to make.

ZEYNEP: Is that so?

IANTO: Do the best I can.

A beeping noise, again. 

IANTO: Aw, shit.

ZEYNEP: Now what?

IANTO: My phone battery’s on ten percent.

ZEYNEP: Oh, allah allah!

IANTO: Ridiculous, isn’t it? Oh, my life!

ZEYNEP: Have you got a charger on you?

IANTO: Bless you for that.

ZEYNEP: Thought not.

IANTO: It might be fine, it might last.

ZEYNEP: When does a phone battery ever do that?

IANTO: You’re right. There’s a USB port on the flight deck, but no charging cable.

ZEYNEP: I have a suggestion.

IANTO: Okay.

ZEYNEP: You’re not going to like it.

IANTO: Right.

ZEYNEP: Search the others on board.

IANTO: Ugh… Okay, alright fine. (gets up and punches some keys)

SKYPUNCHER COMPUTER: Automatic flight control engaged.

IANTO: I’m going out on deck. Let’s do this. (moving around the passengers) Agh… Right. So, this is weird. Lot of rich people. Do I search the boy band?

ZEYNEP: Oh, which one?

IANTO: Star Seven?

ZEYNEP: My daughter loves them! Can you take a picture?

IANTO: Of a dead boy band.

ZEYNEP: Fair point. Just one?

IANTO: No. … Ephraim Salt. I’m going through the pockets of a dead billionaire philanthropist. Bound to have a phone charger. Oh. Oh.


IANTO: He’s not dead.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones?

IANTO: He just has a really slow pulse. I just assumed I was the only one… If I can bring him around. M. Salt? Ephraim? Nothing. His eyes aren’t responsive either. I don’t understand.

ZEYNEP: You didn’t say what happened to them all.

IANTO: They were all – talking away. Something happened to the ship, they started screaming. Something cut my leg. But it’s not clear, I just assumed that – I checked the pulses, I did!

Salt awakens violently, shouting incoherently.

IANTO: (panicked) Oh, god, get away!

ZEYNEP: What? What’s happening? Mr. Jones?

IANTO: Stay back, stay back! Stay away from me! Agh! Agh! (gets away; now Salt’s shouting and pounding on the door, muffled)

IANTO: Ooh. I’m in the hold. Not very big, but doesn’t have a zombie in it.

ZEYNEP: A zombie? Really?

IANTO: Ephraim Salt. Utter screaming madman! So! Got his phone charger.

ZEYNEP: Good, but what?

IANTO: I don’t know! I don’t understand, he was just thrashing and screaming, and it was horrible! (sighs) I gotta get back past him to the cockpit and charge my phone.

ZEYNEP: (bursts into giggles)

IANTO: Oh, sorry, is that funny?

ZEYNEP: I could never be a spy, Mr. Jones.

IANTO: No? Well – zombies on a plane. Nothing. I’ve been out in Swansea on a Saturday. Right. Tiny hold. No room for anything but Ephraim Salt’s luggage. What would you pack for the stars? Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that his suitcase is very, very expensive. Black Box, the world’s toughest suitcase. One Dan Brown, pair of socks, breath mints, and hey, I have two phone chargers, whoop-de-doo! Okay. There. Oh, just so you know, I’ve just tied his suitcase to myself with elastic straps for a bit of protection. Wish I could send you a picture, but that would be the last of my battery. Trust me though... I look sexy.

ZEYNEP: My knight in armor.

IANTO: Quite. Right, let’s get back out there.

ZEYNEP: Rather you than me.

IANTO: Always. (opens the door to Salt’s raging) Mr. Salt, please, listen to me, I mean you no harm – Ow!

ZEYNEP: Come on, Mr. Jones, you can do it!

(the ship computer says something, muffled)

IANTO: No, autopilot’s off!

ZEYNEP: Turn it back on!

IANTO: Still gotta get past Mr. Salt, and – Aaagh! This is a really bad day! Agh. Mr. Salt, Mr. Salt, listen to me, please, calm down! I know you don’t want to attack me. Please.

ZEYNEP: What’s happened to him?

IANTO: Not – no! Mr. Salt, no – Augh!

A thudding noise and silence returns.

IANTO: Ah. Oh god.

ZEYNEP: What have you done?

IANTO: Um, knocked him out with a steel briefcase.

ZEYNEP: That’s good, right?

IANTO: Yeah, not sure I just knocked him out, though.


IANTO: (uncertain) Yeah, I, I know we’ve got more important things on, but I’m just, gonna, check on him.

ZEYNEP: What about the plane?

IANTO: I may have just killed someone, don’t do that every day, so please, just – let me. (moves to Salt) Still a pulse.

ZEYNEP: Do you think the others are still alive?

IANTO: I’m just hoping they don’t wake up. Don’t fancy being torn apart by a boy band.

ZEYNEP: my daughter

IANTO, INTERRUPTING: Oh, don’t you start –

Salt awakens with a roar.

IANTO: Ah! Ah!

EPHRAIM: (breathing heavily) They – tried to kill me. You – tried to kill me.

IANTO: (indignant) No! I didn’t, Mr. Salt!

EPHRAIM: Burning… rage… What’s happened to me? Can’t think. I want it. I mustn’t hide. Let go. I can’t! Can’t!

IANTO: (cries out in pain) Bit me! On my leg!

ZEYNEP: Get out of there!

IANTO: (runs back and slams the door, gasping as Salt begins to pound on the door) I’m in! Agh. Thank god, I’m in.

ZEYNEP: But how are you going to keep him out?

IANTO: There’s a – cockpit door, not a proper security one, not at all, reminds me of a caravan holiday in Barry Island. What I’m saying is, it’s not gonna work for long. Right there. You still there?

ZEYNEP: Always.

IANTO: So. (there’s the two-tone beep) Phone on charge. Next. (fiddles with controls)

SKYPUNCHER COMPUTER: Unable to re-engage glide control.

IANTO: Autopilot’s not working. So I’m, I’m on a spaceship, with a raging madman, it’s crashing, and I now need to learn how to fly it.

ZEYNEP: Tough day.

IANTO: Regretting selling me insurance?

ZEYNEP: We have a help line for filling interforms. They’re going to love you.

IANTO: Well, don’t transfer me. Not just yet, hey? Starting to enjoy our conversation.

ZEYNEP: Me too.

IANTO: First priority is to learn how to fly this thing, right? (gasps) First, just a little sit-down. Not feeling too clever.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones? Is there anything I can help you with?

IANTO: (winded) Sorry. Bit of heavy breathing there. My leg. He bit my wound. It’s bleeding again. Fine, anyway. I think… I’m actually feeling pretty bad! (weak laugh) Wonder if whatever got to the passengers is affecting me, too. So tired.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones.

IANTO: Tired.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones!

IANTO: Sleep. Just for a second.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones!

Malfunctioning mechanical sounds.

SKYPUNCHER COMPUTER: Glider failure. Velocity decreasing.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones!

IANTO: Whoo…

Ianto is apparently fading in and out of consciousness, with Zeynep’s voice echoing back and forth.

ZEYNEP: (increasingly aggravated) Mr. Jones. Wake up! Mr. Jones!

IANTO: I’m dead. Mr. Jones is dead.

ZEYNEP: Come on, Mr. Jones. Come on, you can do it.

IANTO: You’re talking to a dead man. Give up.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones! Ianto!

IANTO: (loud and annoyed, back to reality) Yes! …Maybe it’s an airborne toxin. Some kind of virus.

ZEYNEP: Or maybe, just maybe, you’ve lost a lot of blood. My eldest fell off her bike, and refused to tell me, because she wanted to finish her maths homework. Found her bleeding all over her algebra. Kids. Anyway. I would like you to look at your leg.

IANTO: My what?

ZEYNEP: The tourniquet on your leg.


ZEYNEP: Come on, it’s bleeding, isn’t it?

IANTO: Yeah.

ZEYNEP: Oh, I’m so glad you’re out of it, because this is going to hurt.

IANTO: What is?

ZEYNEP: You still got those elasticated ropes? From the suitcase?

Ianto begins to comply.

ZEYNEP: Take one. Bind it round your leg.

IANTO: (faint) Okay. Ooh, squeezy.

ZEYNEP: Now wrap it again, and again. There we go. Lovely and tight. And then fasten it with silk.


ZEYNEP: And let go.

Ianto lets go with a snap, and yelps.

ZEYNEP: The pressure on the wound will stop the bleeding. The pain will wake you up. Now, is there a first-aid kit?

IANTO: (strained) Ow – ou – out on the passenger deck.

ZEYNEP: Oh, let’s forget painkillers.

IANTO: Oh, yes, let’s.

ZEYNEP: Okay. Mr. Salt, or crashing?

IANTO: Well, we’ve not crashed yet. He does sound pretty mad.

ZEYNEP: Okay. Try and bring the ship under control while I work out what to do.

IANTO: I’m pulling us up. Whoo. Bit wobbly. But okay. Wings are holding. It’s basically like a big, expensive glider. (nutty laugh) I’m flying a spaceship!

ZEYNEP: Yes, you are. You get points for that. You get even more for landing it!

IANTO: Won’t I just. (over Salt’s door-pounding and screaming) That door’s really not holding. He’s pretty strong!

ZEYNEP: I have a suggestion.


ZEYNEP: On the control panel, is there one for environmental control? It should be the far left.

IANTO: Uh, yep.

ZEYNEP: And is it online?

IANTO: Yeah.

ZEYNEP: Okay. See the settings for the passenger cabin. Raise the temperature as high as it will go. And if you can, lower the cabin pressure and turn off the air supply.

IANTO: What?

ZEYNEP: Found it?

IANTO: Yeah. (typing)

ZEYNEP: It should make him drowsy, like being on top of a mountain, wrapped in a blanket.

IANTO: That’s a curious way of talking about oxygen starvation.

ZEYNEP: it's him or you. We want you unhindered and him dozing. Don’t we?

IANTO: Yeah.

ZEYNEP: Come on, they always turn the heat up in the cabin after takeoff. Keeps the cattle from go )

IANTO: (repeats her last word, confused) : cattler...

ZEYNEP: I grew up in a lovely little fishing village. Can’t move now for skyscrapers and tourists who think it’s Spain. Actual Spain. They sing “Una Paloma Blanca” around the pool at night.

IANTO: I’m sorry.

ZEYNEP: Oh, I’m just bitter. Now my brother? He tell you he earns a fortune, and has a lot of curvy girlfriends. My brother is an idiot.

The pounding and grunting sounds end.

IANTO: Oh. He stopped.

ZEYNEP: Good, because we can now dis-count Mr. Salt being…

IANTO: A zombie.

ZEYNEP: Thanks. Not going to say the word. I’m no expert, but they don’t nap, do they? So what happened to the passengers?

IANTO: I don’t know. Like I said, they were all chatting away, and then... something happened to the ship. Screaming… my leg hurt…

ZEYNEP: Are you sure that’s the order?

IANTO: Yeah. Well – I mean – what else could the order be? Were we attacked by an outside force? If it’s some kind of virus, then I’m doing the wrong thing. I can’t land the ship, not if there’s anything bacterial onboard, I need to –

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: Okay, it’s just – what were you doing before the crash?

IANTO: I was serving drinks.

ZEYNEP: Ah, sky butler.

IANTO: Mhm. Champagne. Ridiculous conditions to have it in. No flavor at altitude, for a start. But rich people do love champagne at height. Lots of champagne. And then some coffee.

ZEYNEP: And you serve the drinks?

IANTO: Oh, yes. Everyone had coffee. Even the pilots. Which was good, as I worked hard to make it taste just right. Couldn’t do anything about the champagne, but the coffee – you know, the secret is all in the –

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: You didn’t drink any yourself?

IANTO: No, I was busy serving it.

ZEYNEP: And then?

IANTO: Something happened to the ship, and the screaming started. No, the screaming started, and then – then, something happened.

ZEYNEP: I think it’s not a space virus. I think there was a drug in the coffee.


ZEYNEP: You know how you got onboard to stop something bad happening? You seemed to have poisoned everyone.

IANTO: Now look here –

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: I’m not blaming you. Just pointing out it’s not your lucky day.

IANTO: But – Mr. Salt? Could a poison have done that, turned him into a raging lunatic?

ZEYNEP: Have you ever read the side-effects of sleeping pills?

Ianto exhales.

ZEYNEP: Just saying. The important point is that you poured the drinks. You’re being framed.

IANTO: Listen. What I’m gonna tell you is gonna sound odd.

ZEYNEP: Says the poisoner on the spaceship.

IANTO: Yeah. The organization I’m working for – We’re investigating a conspiracy. A big one. That may sound a little bizarre.

ZEYNEP: Oh, no. We have those here all the time. The minister’s niece would like a house building on a public park, she gets a house. Chemical waste kills all the fish in the river. The police are completely unable to find a link to the factory upstream. It’s the will of Allah. More or less, we’ve had conspiracies since the sultans.

IANTO: Oh. Good. You’re the first person who I’ve told about this who’s not narrowed their eyes at me.

ZEYNEP: You can’t see me, Mr. Jones. I could be squinting right now.

IANTO: Ephraim Salt. I found out he knew something about the Committee. I came onboard so I could find out what he knew.

ZEYNEP: And did they know that you knew that he knew? Did he know that you knew? Did he know that they knew that you knew that he knew that you knew?

IANTO: And now the mocking. Look, I wanted to get close to Salt to find out what he knew – Oh god, you’ve ruined it now!

ZEYNEP: I get the point, Mr. Jones.

IANTO: I heard he was at risk. I needed to protect him.

ZEYNEP: He gave you something, didn’t he?

IANTO: Yeah. Data stick of some kind. I can’t play it back here. Still gotta find a way of getting it off the ship.

ZEYNEP: Tricky.

IANTO: Yeah-heh.

ZEYNEP: I think you may have walked into a big flying trap. If Ephraim Salt’s first ever spaceflight crashes, killing everyone onboard, no one is going to find out what he had to say.

IANTO: But –

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: And if the ship lands safely, you’re going to be very arrested.


ZEYNEP: (amused) Goodness me, Mr. Jones. Being a spy is a very complicated business.

IANTO: You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

ZEYNEP: Whatever gives you that idea?

IANTO: Listen. There’s something I should –

Weird computer noise.

SKYPUNCHER COMPUTER: Flight control engaged.


ZEYNEP: Is that the autopilot working again?

IANTO: (hesitant) Yes, but I didn’t switch it on. (flicking switches) And – I can’t switch it off.

SKYPUNCHER COMPUTER: Input override. Input override. Input override.

Rocket sounds getting louder.

IANTO: We’re changing course. What’s happening?

ZEYNEP: What? Oh Mr. Jones, I do not know how to help you –

IANTO: I’ve gotta get everything under control. Can you hear me? I need your help, now!

Call center answerphone comes on again as he panics, saying “Thank you for holding. Your call is important to us. One of our agents will be with you shortly to present you with a wealth of insurance possibilities, ensuring that, whatever happens, we’ve got you covered. Thank you for holding.”

IANTO: (during the recording) Hello. Hello! Hey, Hello! This – is – ridiculous!

ZEYNEP: Sorry about that. Are you still there?

IANTO: Not going anywhere. Help me get this thing under control.



ZEYNEP: (worried) My manager came over. He wanted to have a little chat.

IANTO: (sarcastic) Oh, that’s always good!

ZEYNEP: Uhuh. I’ve been on this call for a very long time, and it’s been a very long time since the sale went through.

IANTO: And you can hardly tell him the truth.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones, is there anything more I can help you with?

IANTO: (emphatic) Everything. Sell me everything, my credit’s good for it.


IANTO, INTERRUPTING: Just open up the screen, tick all the boxes and charge me, twice! I’m gonna get you a bonus.

ZEYNEP: A very good choice, Mr. Jones.

IANTO: I thought so.

ZEYNEP: So to confirm. That’s building insurance, contents insurance, medical insurance, car insurance, conservatory insurance –

IANTO, INTERRUPTING: We d-don’t have a – Yes, never mind, yep, yep, all of that!

ZEYNEP: And are you happy for me to use the card details you have on file?

IANTO: (screaming) Yes! Yes!

ZEYNEP: That’s all gone through, Mr. Jones. Congratulations. Please check the policy documents when they turn up in your email. Is there anything else I can help you with today?

IANTO: The ship’s gone into nose-dive!

ZEYNEP: I thought it was gliding.

IANTO: So did I!

ZEYNEP: I’ve got the files in front of me. There should be a series of switches underneath glide control.

IANTO: (flicking switches wildly) They – (gibberish) – do anything!

ZEYNEP: I’m not sure you should treat controls on a spaceship like that. Just saying. I mean, you could end up on Mars.

IANTO: That – might be an improvement. (stops suddenly as the ship seems calmer) Ooh.


IANTO: Oh. Uh, two things, we seem to be levelling out, and I’ve managed to get some course data up on the screen.

ZEYNEP: Really? A course?

IANTO: Yeah, uh. Nothing to do with me. Map of the world! Red line! Me at one end, and at the other – zooming in – Oh, western Turkey.

ZEYNEP: I’m in western Turkey.

IANTO: Small world.

ZEYNEP: Should I be worried?

IANTO: It’s quite a coincidence. Did you buy any lottery tickets this week?


IANTO: Perhaps you should have.

ZEYNEP: Do you think there could be some connection?

IANTO: No. No, no.

ZEYNEP: The super-Google you installed on my PC, could that be it?

IANTO: … Perhaps you’d better just uninstall that now.

ZEYNEP: Well how do I do that, then?

IANTO: Got an axe?

ZEYNEP: They don’t give those to fire wardens. (typing) I’m looking up any connection between the city of Izmir and your conspiracy. Does it have a name?

IANTO: Erebus.

ZEYNEP: E for echo, R for Romeo, E for echo, B for Betty, U for umbrella, S for sugar.


ZEYNEP: (after a negative beep) No, nothing. I’ll say one thing about your software. It gets cross when it doesn’t find anything.

IANTO: Yes, tetchy.

ZEYNEP: Funny. Trying to think of anything odd. I mean, the research firm who leased the top floor haven’t been in for a few days. It’s almost like they knew something.

IANTO: Right.

ZEYNEP: Wait. That sounds you-levels of crazy. Not that...

IANTO, INTERRUPTING: Thanks, thanks.

ZEYNEP: ...you are crazy. Sorry.

IANTO: Can you think of any other reason why we’d be heading to your neck of the woods?

ZEYNEP: Well, we have some nice beaches, and some good ruins down the coast, and – Oh yes, there’s a lovely shop over the road that sells the baklawa.

IANTO: (exasperated) Serious reasons? Military installations, aerospace engineering firms, um –

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: That’s unfair. We have lots of military things everywhere. Narrowing them down takes time.

IANTO: What about Istanbul, that’s just up from you, isn’t it?

ZEYNEP: Just. Good luck getting there. Traffic’s really bad. There’s probably already a cue of angry spaceships waiting outside. But I can’t think of why you’d come here. Smelly old Izmir. Factories, quarries, smog, and – Oh.

IANTO: What?

ZEYNEP: No. Just enjoy me putting two and two together, nothing. There’s a nice Roman theater, maybe you’re going there.

IANTO: What are you not telling me?

ZEYNEP: Honestly, nothing.

IANTO: What.

ZEYNEP: This call center… Turns out, it’s owned by Ephraim Salt. (exhales slowly) Saying it out loud. That’s a bit of a coincidence.

IANTO: No, really? He owns a lot of things.

ZEYNEP: Oh come on, Mr. Jones. It’s got to all be connected. That’s basic spy stuff. Ephraim Salt owns the Skypuncher, the satellite you destroyed, and a building in the city you’re heading towards. You can’t ignore that.

IANTO: There’s – one other coincidence. You called me.

ZEYNEP: Oh, blame the computer. I always do. That bit’s dull. It’s just weird, though. I get why someone would try to kill Salt. I even get why they would destroy his satellite. I just don’t get why your ship would be coming here.

IANTO: Don’t you.

ZEYNEP: My mother-in-law would kill me if she heard me say this, but there’s really not that much in Izmir.

IANTO: Isn’t there?


IANTO: calmly!

ZEYNEP: Allah Allah, the building, you’re headed for this building, you’re going to blow up the building!

IANTO: (deliberately reasonable) Quietly.

ZEYNEP: (indignant) What?

IANTO: If you can panic quietly, please, I don’t want you to upset your co-workers.

ZEYNEP: You are kidding.


ZEYNEP: (Turkish)

IANTO: Listen to me – you have children?


IANTO: You’re out for a walk with them, there’s a car crash, what do you do?

ZEYNEP: I, I eh, turn them around and walk away, talking quietly about something else.

IANTO: Do that now.

ZEYNEP: Don’t tell me how to react! Especially not in that tone of voice. You’re flying a bomb at me.

IANTO: (louder) Believe me, I’ve done this kind of thing before. I’ve been in this situation. …Well, look, I need to work a couple of things out, and I need your help, okay, can you give me that?


IANTO: You’re sure?

ZEYNEP: Absolutely. Just a moment.

There’s static, and then a fire alarm sound.

ZEYNEP: (in the distance) Fire! Everyone, fire! That’s right, head it out! Everybody out! Listen to me, the fire warden. No! Go now! (turkish) Fire, fire, fire! …There.

IANTO: What did you just do?

ZEYNEP: Got a lot of people to safety.

IANTO: But they might be –


IANTO: Mm. Forget about it, just working on a theory.

ZEYNEP: Listen. How’s my tone? Am I sounding calm?

IANTO: Yes, actually.

ZEYNEP: Then pay attention, Mr. Jones. I want you to get in touch with your bosses. MI5, the CIA, whatever. This is very serious, I want everyone on this, okay?


ZEYNEP: Full spy emergency. Unleash everyone. If a black helicopter isn’t hovering overhead in one minute, I’m going to be very disappointed.


ZEYNEP: Is there anyone I can call for you, Mr. Jones? The Pentagon?

IANTO: Listen. When I said I was a spy – Actually, I really am just a butler.


IANTO: I’m not a spy, not quite. I mean, I do work for a secret organization…


IANTO: I make the coffee. And do the paperwork. Neatly.


IANTO: I’m telling you the truth.

ZEYNEP: (turns off the fire alarm) Enough of that racket. The building’s empty now. (sighs)

IANTO: (also sighs) Listen. You asked if you could call people, and you can. Phone your government. If we’re heading for your city, then I need them to shoot this down before we get there, okay?

ZEYNEP: Of course, but –

IANTO, INTERRUPTING: I really don’t matter. It’s got to be done.

ZEYNEP: And is there a password I can give them?

IANTO: I don’t know, it’s not the kind of thing I’d know.

ZEYNEP: So, if you’re not a spy, then what are you doing on that ship? Why would they send you up there?

IANTO: They didn’t. I’m just – one of – the little people. My boss has gone missing, he’s on the trail of this conspiracy, and the others, well, they were busy.

ZEYNEP: Being proper spies.

IANTO: Yes. That’s why I thought it’s my, you know, duty.

ZEYNEP: You were showing off.

IANTO: No! Yes! I guess. Look, it was the right thing to do. I worked this out by myself. And I wanted – look, well, I – I wanted them to like me!

ZEYNEP: You wanted to impress them by nearly getting killed? Wow, they must be really lovely people.

IANTO: They are – Look, they are. Well, I mean – The thing is, the thing is, I’ve had a tough time with winning their trust back. After what happened to Lisa –


IANTO: My girlfriend. She worked for the same firm. She was horribly wounded in the line of duty.

ZEYNEP: I’m sorry.

IANTO: I tried to help. But they killed her.

ZEYNEP: Your friends killed her?

IANTO: Put like that, it doesn’t sound that – But anyway, they – they did the best they could.

ZEYNEP: They murdered your girlfriend!

IANTO: Not – Look – Murdered – Exactly, I –

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones! You’re an idiot.

IANTO: (conflicted) But, they did –

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: Listen to me. Family, friends. They’re always more important. No company is worth dying for!

IANTO: You don’t understand –

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: I trusted you. Really, I have. You have a nice voice, I actually really do believe you’re in a spaceship hurtling towards me. But I’m not sure I’m going to take any more advice from you. Not just now.

IANTO: Please…

ZEYNEP: I’m going up to the top floor.

IANTO: Don’t put me on hold.

ZEYNEP: (opens a door and begins heading upstairs) Don’t worry. Bluetooth headset. Long range. Can nip out to the shops, not that we do. Not when one’s on duty.

IANTO: Why are you going to the top floor?

ZEYNEP: (sighs) Because you’re not listening to me. I told you. The space is leased to a research company. Been here a month. Kept themselves to themselves. Don’t know the good restaurants to have lunch in. And, as I’ve said, none of them have come into work for the last few days.

IANTO: Yet, they could be bidding clients busy or...

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: Well, I’m finding out for certain. I gave you a lead, and you didn’t want to follow it up. When a building’s in danger, you always want to look at the people who didn’t show up that day.

IANTO: You really are sounding like a conspiracy theorist.

ZEYNEP: Says you! (makes clattering noises, like a door opening slowly) Here I am.

IANTO: This isn’t gonna accomplish anything. What are they called?

ZEYNEP: Harkness Industries.

IANTO: I take that back, you’ve gotta get in there.


Buzzing noises.

IANTO: I do. Get in there.

ZEYNEP: (knocking and being interrupted by the buzzing) This door is very locked. Can’t – get a – purchase – handler.

IANTO: Hello? I’m losing you? Lot of static.

ZEYNEP: I – the signal – good. There’s a funny computer inside. Really odd.

IANTO: Can you step away from the door?

ZEYNEP: What’s that?

IANTO: Step away from the door.

ZEYNEP: Right. Right. There’s something in that room. I can’t get in.

IANTO: My turn to suggest a fire extinguisher.

ZEYNEP: Good call. (begins ramming the door, grunting) That door is not giving. For a glass door, that’s really strong. (walking slowly) I’m just going to run down the corridor and really charge at it. (begins running and does so) Ugh, it won’t give. Nothing. I’ve achieved nothing!

IANTO: (oddly calm) I wouldn’t say that. When you ran back and forth, my course changed slightly.


IANTO: The ship is not homing on the building. It’s homing on on you.

ZEYNEP: What? How can you even tell?

IANTO: Getting very close.

ZEYNEP: But, but there’s no proof!

IANTO: Run up and down the corridor again.


IANTO: (makes chicken clucking noises)

ZEYNEP: Fine. (runs) Got – to the end. And now…

IANTO: You’re going the other way.

ZEYNEP: You’re just guessing! You can’t know.

IANTO: And now I can tell you’re running on the spot to try and trick me.


IANTO: The nose cone twitches a little. That’s all. The flight path adjusts just very slightly.

ZEYNEP: Oh, Allah Allah. You’re joking. I know you’re not, but I can’t think of anything else to say.

IANTO: The Skypuncher has been homing on on your headset, ever since we re-entered the atmosphere.


IANTO: You were right, it was a – a trap. Carefully planned to bring down Ephraim Salt’s empire. Sabotage the spaceship, people will think he’s a fool. Blow up his most expensive satellite, he’ll be bankrupt. And, if the ship’s still going, get it to smash into an office building. People will think he’s a corrupt sweatshop owner.

ZEYNEP: But it’s actually quite a nice office.

IANTO: But that’s now what the papers will say !

ZEYNEP: What about me?

IANTO: What about you?

ZEYNEP: Why me? Why did I phone you?

IANTO: The Committee would have prepared things neatly. Hacked into the computer, told it to lock onto the plane, find a signal, dial it… I’m afraid, by keeping me alive –

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: I brought the thing right here. Where are you?

IANTO: Not far out of the city. See what you mean about the river.

ZEYNEP: (in despair) What do I do? What do I do?

IANTO: Well…

ZEYNEP: I hang up. That’s what I do. Of course!

IANTO: No, no!

ZEYNEP: What? Seriously!

IANTO: If the call terminates, then the ship will crash onto the city. Listen, just take off the headset.

ZEYNEP: I, I can’t!

IANTO: What?

ZEYNEP: Take off the headset, it switches off.

IANTO: Why would you do that?

ZEYNEP: Bathroom breaks.

Ianto balks.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones? What do I do?… Mr. Jones.

IANTO: I’m so very sorry. You’ll have to keep talking. There’s no way out for either of us.

The holding music comes on again.

IANTO: Hello? Hello, hello! Don’t do this, please, don’t do this.

The recording again: “Thank you for holding. Your call is important to us. One of our agents will be with you shortly to present you with a wealth of insurance possibilities, ensuring that, whatever happens, we’ve got you covered. Thank you for holding.

IANTO: Please, there’s not much time left, there really isn’t. And… I’m scared, I don’t wanna be alone.

ZEYNEP: You’re asking me to die.

IANTO: Again, I am so sorry. I wish it was just me. Well, I don’t.

ZEYNEP: No. I don’t want to die either. Sorry, talking with my mouth full. Figured there was no point in waiting for my lunch.

IANTO: You go right ahead.

ZEYNEP: Spiced (play turc?). My husband made it.

IANTO: Sounds delicious.

ZEYNEP: Too spicy, actually. You know what men are like.


ZEYNEP: (sad) I can’t believe this is happening. You’re sure this isn’t a hoax?

IANTO: Wish it was.

ZEYNEP: I don’t even live in the city.

IANTO: Sorry.

ZEYNEP: I don’t like it much. (sniffles) You’re asking me to die for a lot of people I don’t even know.

IANTO: It’s the right thing.

ZEYNEP: It’s my duty. Look where that’s got you.

IANTO: Yeah.

ZEYNEP: You’re an idiot.

IANTO: So you keep saying.

ZEYNEP: I could hang up now, go stand at the bus stop, wave at you as you smack into the city center.

IANTO: But you’re not going to. I know you’re not going to.

ZEYNEP: (getting angry) You don’t know anything about me. What’s my name?

IANTO: Sorry?

ZEYNEP: What’s my name?

IANTO: You didn’t tell me.

ZEYNEP: I did. You’re asking me to die, and you don’t even know my name.

IANTO: Sorry, I…


IANTO: (sheepish) Pleased to meet you, it’s a very pretty name.

ZEYNEP: Not really, now you’re just being nice. (sniffles) What’s the view like?

IANTO: Flying over the city? There’s lots of it.

ZEYNEP: The mayor would like it if you could smack into one of the old bits. Lots of people are dying to turn them into office blocks. I – shouldn’t have said that, I –


ZEYNEP: I can’t even hang up to call my family. My family. Why did it have to be me? Why not Rachelle ? She’s got no one, and she’s a miserable cow, and – forget it.

IANTO: Zeynep.

ZEYNEP: Mr. Jones?

IANTO: I am so sorry about this.

ZEYNEP: Stop apologizing. I’m not going to forgive you. It’s not your fault.

IANTO: No. We’re just the little people.

ZEYNEP: Yeah. We never get to make the decisions. We just get backed up against the wall and told to do the right thing. And oddly enough, that’s never what we want.

IANTO: Yeah.

ZEYNEP: Still. Sat in the boss’s chair, dripping chili oil onto his desk, looking out at the view. I can see a small dot in the sky. That’s you, isn’t it.

IANTO: Probably. Um, listen –

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: That’s all I will do. Just you and me, talking til the end. I don’t want you to be alone. I can’t think of anything worse than being a plane about to crash (as Ianto begins to rustle around with something), seeing the ground get closer, and closer, and there being no way out.

IANTO: Zeynep?


IANTO: Listen. I’ve – found a parachute, um… The pilot has an ejector seat.


IANTO:… Did you hear what I said?

ZEYNEP: Yes. So that’s how it is. I’m not hungry anymore.

IANTO: Zeynep, I’m sorry.

ZEYNEP: (increasingly upset) Don’t be. One of us has a way out. Look at you. You got to do your duty. Escaping with the vital data stick, so heroic. Those lovely people you work with may even buy you a beer! And me? I’m only the little person after all. I don’t even get to say goodbye to my family. Off you go, Zeynep, sacrifice yourself; inshallah! That’s what we say, when we cross the road. We don’t look left, or right, we just step out into the traffic and trust to the will of Allah!

IANTO: I don’t know what else to say –

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: It’s not good enough! What am I dying for? So that some people I’ve never heard of can make more money?

IANTO: Give me the names, the names of your children, your husband, I’ll talk to them.

ZEYNEP: No! I’m not letting you anywhere near them.

IANTO: … We’re over the river. Looks quite pretty from here.

ZEYNEP: Wouldn’t get anywhere closer to it if I were you. Not far to go.

IANTO: Is there a bigger body of water coming up, we could try and land in it –

ZEYNEP, INTERRUPTING: No. Concrete, and people, and then little me. We’re just outside of town. Wait til you pass a really scrubby park and then eject. Otherwise, you’ll smack into a tower block. Would be a bit ironic.

IANTO: Thanks.

ZEYNEP: (shaky sigh) I can see you on the horizon. What big teeth you have.

IANTO: Not long now. Look, I just wanna say –

ZEYNEP: (bitter) Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Jones?

Ianto sighs.

ZEYNEP: Inshallah.

Holding music, which fades into a sad, reflective piece as the rocket noises get louder.

IANTO: This is what Torchwood does, isn’t it, Jack. Ruins everyone. Everyone it touches. Don’t care. Not anymore. …Zeynep was right. Here it comes. Here it comes. Zeynep, I’m sorry. (screams and jumps out of the ship)

The call center recording, without the holding music and over some dramatic music instead, begins. “Have you considered changing your contents insurance provider? Let us give you a truly –“

IANTO: (screaming) No, no, no! (the parachute seems to deploy and he gasps).

ZEYNEP: (a bit breathlessly) Thank you for holding!

IANTO: Zeynep!

ZEYNEP: Whatever happens, we’ve got it covered, Mr. Jones!

IANTO: What are you doing?

ZEYNEP: Running away! Goodbye!


In the distance, the Skypuncher crashes. Then Ianto’s mobile rings.


ZEYNEP: Hello?


ZEYNEP: Am I speaking to Mr. Jones?

IANTO: (half-shouting) Yes! Yes, you’re alive!

ZEYNEP: I ran out into the quarry behind the office, got as far as I could, then threw my headset away into a sandbag. The spaceship? Well, it’s fine, it won’t fly again, but there may even be survivors.

IANTO: You got out. You saved them!

ZEYNEP: So did you! Have the little people done well!


ZEYNEP: (happily) I can see you up there! I’ve always fancied trying a parachute jump!

IANTO: I haven’t!

ZEYNEP: Tough day. Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Jones?

IANTO: No. Oh, thank you, everything’s covered!

ZEYNEP: Then I’ll wish you a happy landing.

IANTO: (sputtering) But, aren’t you gonna – I mean, don’t you wanna meet up?

ZEYNEP: (giggles)

IANTO: I wanna thank you!

ZEYNEP: You’ve got my number! (laughs) Inshallah, Mr. Jones! (hangs up)

IANTO: Inshallah, Zeynep. Inshallah.



note : merci à wordreference, collins etc... quelques (?) mais beaucoup de bruit dans cet épisode secoué, l'intrigue reste intacte néanmoins. 

Ecrit par chrismaz66 
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Total : 9 votes
Tous les sondages


cinto, 27.09.2023 à 16:43

Chez Queer As folk, The Tudors et Ma Sorcière Bien Aimée, la rentrée n'est pas finie! sondages, même si vous ne connaissez pas les séries.

cinto, 27.09.2023 à 16:44

Merci à tous, ceux qui sont déjà passés et aux prochains visiteurs. N'ayez pas peur, il n'y a que des sourires ici!

choup37, 28.09.2023 à 14:13

Le professeur Dumbledore est décédé Michael Gambon a rejoint les étoiles ..

Sonmi451, 28.09.2023 à 16:46


mnoandco, Hier à 09:14

Calendriers d'octobre sur Cold Case, FBI Portés Disparus et Blacklist "spécial 10 ans". Pas besoin de connaître pour apprécier (ou pas LOL)

Viens chatter !