06: Exile

written by Daniel Manning

[[SFX: tape recorder starts; driving in a truck]]

BILL DONOVAN (BD): Chet, how are we doing on time?

CHET WHICKMAN (CW): About forty-five minutes out.

JACK WYATT (JW): So can you please tell us where in God’s name we’re actually going? What is this mystery site you’re taking us to?

SALLY GRISSOM (SG): I still haven’t ruled out “military prison.” Or “execution site.”

CW: To be perfectly honest with you Dr. Grissom, if we were going to make you all disappear, we wouldn’t have driven you halfway to Canada to do it. The desert’s plenty empty.

ESTHER ROBERTS (ER): Good to know how few qualms you have about killing us...

BD: Why would we have been taking you all to prison?

ER: Because... Because we got the town shut down. It was our fault all the money and resources, wasted. And now we’re traitors.

SG: We’re loose ends.

JW: Or both.

BD: Settle down, everybody. We’re bringing you to the town of Point-of-Exile, Colorado.

ANTHONY PARTRIDGE (AP): Come on Bill, that sounds made up.

BD: Chet?

CW: Uh… Founded 1917, elevation 7742 feet. That’s the 84th highest city in the continental US.

ER: It’s like having an encyclopedia.

CW: I don’t know what you want from me. They put it in the pamphlet.

BD: The four of you were all that will be left of the Office of Developed Anomalous Resources. You four, Chet, and myself.

SG: And the four jeeps full of time machine behind us.

CW: And Mrs. Partridge.

HP: Most days I’m just along for the ride...

BD: I want you four to know, I believe in the work you’re doing. I can’t tell you how much I believe in the work you’re doing. But it’s been decided that the United States needs a coordinated intelligence service. Not this piecemeal farce we’ve been doing up until now.

ER: What does that have to do with us?

SG: Hah. Hah-hah. Ahahaha. HAAAHahahaahaha. No.

ER: What?

SG: Donovan thinks the Timepiece is going to give him a leg up in the race to become the next great US intelligence agency. But he’s wrong. The Timepiece only barely works, and by itself it’s not nearly as useful as he thinks it is.

BD: You’re right, it’s not. That’s why you’re not working for Central Intelligence.

SG: Then what are we doing here?

BD: If I promise to keep it short, will you stop derailing me?

SG: I will try my hardest, but that is asking a lot of me.

BD: You’re not working for an agency. You will be working for me, directly.

HP: So they’re not even working for the government?

CW: That’s what it’ll say on the pay stub. But it won’t exactly be true.

BD: Point-of-Exile has been designated as a Central Intelligence outpost, but your project will not officially be a part of it. Officially, you were in the wind. [cough] Your Strategic Services contracts have expired, ODAR was no more. [coughs]

JW: This doesn’t exactly seem like it’s above-board...

SG: You okay, buddy?

BD: I'll be fine. I’ve managed to secure you the same access to resources you had in Polvo. And you’ll have the same run of the place, at least for the first year or so. However long it takes the government to cut through the red tape. The pieces will fit themselves around you, and no one has known you’re not supposed to be there in the first place.

ER: Do you really think it’s worth all this?

BD: You don’t seem to understand. The work you all are doing, the machine you invented... It has been the single greatest human achievement since the light bulb. Since the printing press. Since gunpowder, and steel, and the wheel. Since man discovered fire. What you are making has limitless potential to change the world. I will see... I’ve seen that, clear as day. And I couldn’t forgive myself for letting you all give it up because of a couple of minor setbacks.

JW: Minor setbacks?! A man died!

BD: I’m sorry, I misspoke. The setbacks were substantial. But where would the world be if Thomas Edison had given up every time he failed?

AP: Bill, that was a lovely speech, but what about me? What am I doing here?

BD: The Predictive Mechanics project is being integrated into Timepiece research. Anthony, you’ll be part of Sally’s team.

HP: But Anthony was your director of project development!

BD: And now, he isn’t.

HP: And you just want to throw that all away?

AP: Thanks, Helen, really, but I don't need you sticking your nose in like this...

HP: Sticking my nose in?! How can you let him do this?

AP: We'll talk about this later.

SG: But Donovan, why are you doing this? What do you get out of keeping Timepiece around, and as a secret? We give you "the greatest achievement since the light bulb" to use as you please, so you can use time travel spycraft to make a mockery of due process? No, I won’t have any part of this.

BD: Listen. I know what you must think of me. A big man with a briefcase full of secrets and hidden agendas. The truth is that when Polvo was shut down I lost more than any of you. Banished to a tiny mountain town, stripped of everything I had. [cough] I'm calling in the last few favors I had to convince them to keep me on, and to give me enough resources to keep your project running. Why? Because I will believe the work you’re doing was... will change the world for the better. The end of the greatest war we’ve ever seen, and on the verge of something even bigger. I think the world needs us. And I think that if you didn’t already believe me, you wouldn’t have come along to begin with.

[[SFX: radio tuning]]

SG: Diary of Sally Grissom, February 23rd, 1946. So I’ve been here a couple weeks... what kind of name is Point-of-Exile, anyway? I’m reading between the lines here, but the town’s welcome pamphlet implies that a bunch of miners got salty about some labor dispute, drunkenly decided to vacate whatever hole in the ground they were in, and when they sobered up they set up shop in the middle of the forest. It was their exile. Their place of ex--Point. Point of Exile. I was trying to say point of exile. Because, you know, it’s the town’s... you know what? Never mind. I don’t know why I’m explaining this to my diary.

Maybe the air is getting to me. It’s much thinner than the air in New Mexico, dense as it was with desert dust. Up here, it’s clearer. I feel... I dunno. Refreshed. Of course, that could just be generalized hypoxia setting in. We’ll see.

I think I’m the only one in our formerly-merry band of scientists who’s actually enjoying the new digs. Partridge isn’t appreciating what’s essentially a demotion, and after what happened at Christmas Wyatt’s heart just doesn’t seem in it as much. I wouldn’t know, my head’s still a bit fuzzy about the whole time. I guess a brush with the Great Nothingness makes secret government super-science seem lacking. Roberts has been running triple-duty just to keep up with the gaps they leave. Poor girl. She desperately needs some time off, but I’m not sure we have any to spare.

[[SFX: radio tuning; Ester and Jack playing cards]]

ER: I don’t think it works that way.

JW: Yeah, but you’re suggesting we just roll over and do what the Director says.

ER: I’m saying we do what’s best for the project.

JW: When does what’s best for the project interfere with what’s best for us?

ER: The four of us are the only people in the entire world who know enough to keep the Timepiece. We can’t just abandon it right when it’s getting a second chance.

JW: Or, we can just let it go down on life support. We can get real jobs, that pay money! Even if either of us failed in the private sector any halfway decent university would be so glad to have us.

ER: There isn’t a place like this anywhere else. This is a unique opportunity. We’re developing an entirely new discipline of physics. What kind of fat paycheck is worth that?

JW: Well, considering that we can’t even talk about our new discipline of physics, any credit will probably go to Dr. Grissom, or worse, Bill Donovan.

ER: Is that what you care about? Credit?

JW: On our pay grade, you damn betcha.

ER: You’re acting like a child.

JW: You weren’t there. You didn’t have your head smashed in by an over-worked, under-paid, hyper-stressed pipe-wielding lunatic.

ER: You’re right. I wasn’t there. But I’m here now. And I’m staying, and I’m going to keep doing my job. If you want to give up, that’s your right. But that means it’s all on me. And that means I don’t have time for your pity party.

[[SFX: Esther throws her cards, stands up from the table]]

ER: We’re done here.

[[SFX: Esther exits, bumping the record player on the way out; radio tuning]]

SG: Unlike them, I’m used to being an outsider by now. Actually it’s a lot better this time around. The people of Point-of-Exile are warm, welcoming folk. It turns out that Sally Grissom is a halfway-decent casual-acquaintance-maker when she’s not upending jobs because she rode into 1943 on a hoverboard. Everything is changing in America. People are optimistic about what’s next. The postwar enthusiasm here is palpable. Everyone is like that sailor on V-Day, only... Less gross. To the people in P-of-E, I’m just the delightful new girl in town who does something vague with rocks and maps in that little Department of the Interior field office. Of course, I really work for the Department of Technically Not Even America designing impressively convoluted systems for intelligence gathering, but does anybody really know what their neighbors do while they’re at work?

[[SFX: radio tuning]]

HP: You told me this was a transfer, a promotion! And now I find out that not only are you not working for the Army anymore, but now you’re another one of Sally’s worker bees? Are you being serious?

AP: Helen, you heard the Director. He risked his neck just to get us all out here. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t need my expertise on the project. They need me here.

HP: I need you here! We left Massachusetts for you. I put everything on hold for you. You told me about your secret project, that you had to go help end the war. And you did it! But now we’ve fought the last war and it’s time for the soldiers to come home.

AP: I’m not fighting, Helen. I’m not fighting wars. I’m trying to end them. Before they can ever start.

HP: Do you really believe that you’re going to end all war? Do you think you’re smarter than all the great and terrible men through history who’ve claimed to do just that?

AP: I have more capacity to do it than any of those men ever did!

HP: Do you? Or are you just falling into the same trap they did? Caesar, Alexander, Napoleon. The emperor and the Kaiser and the Fuhrer. They all thought they were going to bring peace to the world. And they fought and they fought, and in the end millions died and people are still fighting. Do you really think you’re so different, just because you have better tools? I saw that bomb, Anthony. And that’s just the first. Now the world has seen it too, and do you think they’re running away, tail between their legs? No. Now all that’s changed is that everyone wants one of their own.

AP: Listen, Helen... I love you.

HP: I love you too.

AP: And I need to do this. And I need you here with me.

HP: I worry about you, Anthony. All the time. All this pressure you put on yourself... What are we even doing here, in the middle of nowhere, with you doing God knows what, and me sitting around all day wishing that for once, we can just be a normal couple who live in a normal town and have normal lives.

AP: This is a normal town! A little remote, but... Look, it’s not like it was. You don’t need to be looking over your shoulder wondering if you’ve said too much. Well--you still can’t tell anybody what I do, but that has always been true. We can be real people here, Helen. We can have a life. Things in New Mexico weren’t perfect, but we can take another shot at it here. I want to do this with you, Helen. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.

HP: Our little secret...

AP: Our little secret.

HP: What’s your cover story now?

AP: Department of the Interior. If anyone asks, tell them it’s something to do with radar and weather detection.

HP: Do you really think we can make this work? Look into my eyes and tell me truly.

AP: I can’t predict the future, but I think we can. I know we can. We’re strong.

HP: Isn’t your job supposed to be predicting the future?

AP: Alright, fair point. I can predict the future. And I predict that we’re going to do pretty well.

HP: Our supper is getting cold.

AP: I suppose it is.

[[SFX: radio tuning]]

SG: I’ve almost spent three full years in the nineteen forties, and I’ve mostly bridged the culture gap. I can keep up with their keen jive, and even though my Borat impression doesn’t really play with them, it never really played in 20█ either, so maybe that just wasn’t meant to be. I’ve replaced the Internet with radio and--gasp--real books from a library. TV still has a few more years to get mainstream enough to be accessible. A slide rule and a pad of paper aren’t quite MATLAB. What I really miss are the little conveniences. Email. GPS. Pizza at your door in thirty minutes or less. The things that won’t revolutionize your life, but might make your day a little brighter. But it’s not like those things don’t exist in their component parts. Well, GPS satellites aren’t in the sky yet, but... pizza exists. And until the satellites get up there, I think I can re-make a little bit of the 21st Century for myself.

The first step in that direction is that I’m re-teaching myself electronics. I ended up building this recording device that I realized was basically... well, it was just a circuit that I could strap onto a recorder that would essentially be a telephone answering machine. I mean, I’m not exactly sure when those were invented but they probably exist somewhere. I just built one out of things I have ready access to. I’m definitely a few years ahead of a commercial offering of this technology, but I could make one for myself, and probably make a few more to give them to friends or whatever. Something that’s not going to redefine my work day, just now I can occasionally redirect missed phone calls. Of course, it’s going to be pulling teeth trying to get people to figure out how to use it. I can’t believe I’m going to have to teach technology to people born in the Twenties twice.

[[SFX: radio tuning; beep]]

SG: (on answering machine) You’ve reached Dr. Sally Grissom’s voice-o-matic telephone message recording machine. I’m not home right now, but this device can record a short message that I’ll be able to listen to later. In a few moments, I’ll stop talking, and then there will be a click. After the click, leave your message.

[[SFX: recording runs to the end]]

SG: (speeding up) Then when you’re done, hang up. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. I know this is complicated, and I really appreciate your cooperation. Thanks, have a nice day!

[[SFX: beep; radio tuning]]

SG: I think my first pass at an outgoing message might have filled up an entire spool of wire. There’s a lot to unpack in there. But people aren’t idiots, they can figure it out. I can’t have texting, but I won’t have to worry that my phone is ringing, somewhere. You know. For all those people that call me... I’m sure it’ll come in handy one of these days. I’ll start working on texting next week.

It’s just a distraction though. I’ve been avoiding the office a little bit. I received a report from Roberts and Wyatt on a new experiment for the Timepiece, testing the viability of positive-time motion... It was just Roberts who came up with the theory. The paper has both of their names on it, and she hasn’t said a word to me about it yet, but I’ve seen them at their desks. There used to be a camaraderie between the three of us. You know, we joked, we smiled, we laughed while we worked. We sang, a couple of times. But now it’s just... Silence.

The machine is supposed to work by pulling you backwards towards the Philadelphia Experiment but we’re looking to see if you can use it to move forwards. If it goes well, we could... I could... I could figure out how to go home. It’s a snowball’s chance in hell, but come on... I wouldn’t be dead! Dead to the present, at least, or however that would work with paradoxes and San Dimas Time or whatever.

Is it worth going back? I wouldn’t be returning to the 20█ I left in the first place, I know that much. There’s no way each molecule would align the same way and create the same world I left behind. Not now. I wouldn’t have the same relations with the same people even in the best circumstance. Why would I expect those exact same bodies to even exist, the same pattern of genetics and circumstance to correspond to the people I knew? Not that I had a ton of friends back home... It’s a little disheartening. But I’m afraid that Partridge and Whickman and them would judge me if I didn’t make every effort to get back home. That’s what I’m supposed to do, right? Go back to the... [sigh] back to the future? Goddammit.

[[SFX: radio tuning; sounds of a diner]]

JW: Good, because I’m practically famished.

PENNY WISE (PW): I’ll be sure to have ‘em throw extra turkey on that club. Between you and me, I think they’re a little stingy.

JW: I appreciate that.

PW: Don’t you worry hun. I’m Penny, give me a holler if you need anything at all.

JW: I’ll be sure to-- I’ll take you right up on that.

PW: I hope you do.

ER: Er, Penny? Could I get another cup of coffee?

PW: Sure thing sweetie, I’ll be right back.

JW: Nice to meet you...

[[SFX: Penny walks off]]

SG: Wow, kid, the sparks are flying.

JW: What are you talking about?

SG: That whole thing there! Come on, don’t tell me you didn’t see it. (dramatic voice) I’m practically famished!

ER: I’m not seeing it.

SG: He was practically falling all over her!

JW: I told the girl I wanted a sandwich.

SG: Sure, with your mouth. But I saw it in your eyes. You fell for her, hard.

JW: Sally, the girl is irrelevant, I’m on my lunch break, and she’s at work. Not exactly the best time for a meet cute.

SG: No, it’s the perfect time! You come back later tonight, ask her when she gets off shift...

JW: And does she have any say in the matter?

SG: Of course, she’s totally into you! Very progressive of you though, Wyatt. Way to buck stereotypes.

JW: ...Thank you?

[[SFX: Penny comes back with coffee]]

PW: Here’s your coffee. So where’d y’all move in from?

ER: New Mexico. Our company just moved us up to the mountains.

PW: Are y’all the ones who moved into the old lumber warehouse on the edge of town?

SG: That’s us.

PW: Well, welcome to Point-of-Exile.

SG: Thank you Penny-- uh... What’s your last name?

PW: Wise.

SG: Well Wise, this guy here was just raving about the excellent service we’ve had from you today.

JW: Sally, what are you doing—

SG: In fact, he was just telling us that because of you, we’re gonna make this our new lunch spot in town.

PW: Well, gosh...

JW: No, I didn’t, I was just--

PW: You were just what?

ER: He was just what?

JW: Nothing. I just... Appreciate... Good service. That’s all.

PW: Well, I... Thanks. I do what I can. I’ll be right out with your sandwich.

[[SFX: Penny exits]]

SG: See?

ER: Oh yeah, I definitely see it now.

JW: It’s not anything! You’re just putting words in my mouth! Matchmaking is more complicated than just telling two people they like each other!

SG: So you do like her...

ER: Haven’t you ever seen Holiday? Or The Shop Around the Corner? In that one they couldn’t stand each other!

SG: Oh! You’ve Got Mail!

ER: Exactly. You get mail, and it turns out to be from the very person you despise. All it takes is one word.

PW: And what word is that?

ER: Uh, nothing.

PW: I’ve got a Reuben for you--

ER: Thank you.

PW: Biscuits and gravy here--

SG: Excellent, thanks much.

PW: And a turkey club, piled high.

JW: Oh, wow, I’m not sure I could ever finish this in one sitting.

PW: Well if you ever need an extra hand to finish that, I sure wouldn’t mind. Holler if you need anything else, okay, sweetie?

JW: Actually, I do have something.

PW: What is it?

JW: Would, um... Would you...

PW: Yeah?

JW: Is your name really Penny Wise?

PW: [exasperated sigh] Yeah. My parents thought it’d be a real riot.

JW: At least it’s easy to remember. You’re unforgettable… Um, hi, Jack Wyatt.

PW: Well Jack Wyatt... Find me tonight, and I’ll tell you all about it over some pie. We close up around 9. Until then, Ace, I’ve got tables to see.

[[SFX: Penny exits]]

JW: Okay, now I see it.

[[SFX: radio tuning; Sally and Anthony working on machine]]

SG: And Wyatt goes [buffoonish voice] “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t even like girls” and I tell him to shut his mouth and talk to her. Or, open his mouth I guess--the point is that he was wrong.

[[SFX: Timepiece on; static distortion]]

SG: Ok, check it now.

AP: One-twenty.

SG: Damn.

[[SFX: Timepiece off]]

SG: So I tell him to go pester the girl after work, and I don’t even need to, she comes back with food with full flirt on. The girl--and her name is Penny Wise, get it? Pennywise? Swear to God, real name--

AP: Sally, what are we doing here?

SG: What do you mean? You mean right here, right now? Or existentially?

AP: Across the gamut. I think I need to recalibrate my various internal compasses.

SG: Well, our natural body processes are pumping oxygen-rich blood to our tissues while electrochemical signals in our brains are simulating the complex but handy illusion of consciousness and controlling the body: hands, arms, feet, legs. Your vocal cords are vibrating to push air through your mouth, shaped by your teeth and tongue, to be interpreted by my brain as language.

AP: ...More generally.

SG: We are using tools to do our jobs.

AP: Sally! Stop being a smart alec.

SG: We are checking for faults in the main circuits of the Applied Higgs Inhibitor Array, codenamed TIMEPIECE, in preparation for a round of tests.

[[SFX: Timepiece on; static distortion]]

SG: How bout now?

AP: One twenty-three.

SG: Damn.

[[SFX: Timepiece off]]

AP: And why are we doing this?

SG: Because we work for a super top-secret division of the intelligence community of the United States of America and want to make sure that it is up to snuff.

AP: And why we doing that for them?

SG: Because they are incredibly powerful, because they pay us, because Donovan gave a stirring speech, and because it’s the only chance to work on science literally decades ahead of its time. Take your pick.

AP: And why do they want that?

SG: Are they a person, object, or mineral? What’s with the Twenty Questions?

AP: I’m curious. Why do they--why does Donovan--want the Timepiece?

SG: Are you going to get to the point?

AP: How did we get here?

SG: Oh, come on, you’re not–

AP: No, I mean from Polvo to Point-of-Exile.

SG: We drove in a van.

AP: No! I mean... before you got here, I was managing half a dozen cutting edge research projects. After that, you became a daily thorn in my side--

SG: And I’d hope, a trusted friend and colleague.

AP: That too. And then things started snowballing. The Timepiece ramped up, there was a trip to Las Vegas, and then Quentin’s accident, and apparently you did some pretty amazing work the night of the Christmas party. I missed out on most of that, but Jack told me it was like you were in three places at once.

SG: Ha, well, that night was pretty fuzzy for me too.

[[SFX: Timepiece on; static distortion]]

SG: Try it now.

AP: My point is, I can’t help but do the calculus and say that Timepiece hasn’t brought anyone anything but trouble.

SG: That could be true.

AP: So why does Donovan keep putting his faith in this project? In us?

SG: I don’t really know. I know what could happen, what amazing things we could do, if we ever worked out a system for using this thing effectively... But you’re right. We’ve failed plenty. More often than not, actually.

AP: So I ask again: What are we doing here?

SG: ...I want to see this machine work. I want to see it help somebody.

AP: Wasn’t that the problem? You can’t see it working? It either worked, or it didn’t, and no one could tell, or something like that?

SG: If you could see what changed... If you could... Ugh. I don’t know. Who knows what happens when you change something small. What does the meter say?

AP: One twenty-seven.

SG: Perfect! Okay. Let’s get this puppy fired up.

AP: Well, two years ago I was basically your boss and today you’re definitely my boss.

SG: Listen, Partridge. I’m not your boss. Of all the people here who could be your boss, I’m the most not your boss. Partridge, Timepiece needs you. This team needs you. I need you. But not as a subordinate. I need someone who looks ahead as I look behind. The miracle of the Timepiece isn’t just moving backwards, it’s the possibility of using it to change how we move forward. And you’re the only one who can help us with it. Without you, the Timepiece is stuck. Ready?

AP: Ready.

[[SFX: flipping switches, Timepiece spooling up]]

AP: Sally... If the Timepiece is successful in doing what it’s doing, do you think you would go back to the future?

SG: I don’t know. But I’d rather have the option.

[[SFX: the Timepiece activates; radio tuning]]

SG: Diary of Sally Grissom, March 1st, 1946. Without boring you with the details, the hypothesis didn’t hold up during the Timepiece test. We now know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that going forwards in time using the principles of the Timepiece is effectively impossible. I mean, going forwards in time has always been possible, just... at the rate of one second per second. I know the last time I did one of these I hemmed and hawed about not wanting to go back to 20█ but now that I know I can’t, well... it hurts. I mean, it was a long shot to begin with, but now that we have the numbers to back it up I can’t help but feel like a petulant child who wants what she can’t have. The grass is always greener, you know?

The results aren’t all bad. We got a better look at the tachyonic photon response that comes from using the Timepiece. Improperly modulated, it would cause something like the electromagnetic pulse I saw back in my first months with ODAR. But, with a little tweaking, it seems like you could dictate the frequency of the pulse, like a sort of “signature” assigned to a specific activation of the Timepiece. Of course, it only really exists at the point of origin and then travels backwards in time towards the Eldridge, so my apologies go out to the crew of the Eldridge in October 1943 who spent their trip being bombarded with an ever-growing number of tachyons. If you had something there to receive them, though, you could probably keep track of all the jumps made with the Timepiece. You’d have to move the anchor point to a different listening station, or set up something to receive pings from the future when Rainbow was turned on, you might even be able to set up a system to track them. It wouldn’t not come in handy, you know? What would you if you could map the shifting sands of time?

[[SFX: radio tuning; static distortion]]

BD: It will go without saying that you couldn’t spread that information from this span... room. You can’t spread this from this room.

AP: But people need to know! You’re sure it’s because of... what you did... with the Timepiece?

CW: If it wasn’t there before, the Timepiece accelerated it. His tenses are a mess.

BD: [coughs] You’re to be thanked, Chet. I will be able to... I can talk on my own. Just give me a minute.

AP: Why didn’t you bring Sally in on this?

BD: Sally was volatile. We're keeping this close to the vest.

CW: Please, you have to help him. You understand that all of it was for the good of ODAR, for the good of all of us. And now he’s dying.

AP: What do you want me to do?

BD: I needed you to get the right answer. Help what’s wrong with my thinking.

CW: You’re the only one we’ve got.

AP: Director… Bill. I will do everything I can to save you. I will get you through this, but you have to come clean to the team. At least tell Sally. She deserves to know about what you did.

BD: We’ve talked about this. But only where you find the right answer. Next to then don’t speak to anybody. Not acceptable.

[[SFX: Bill coughs; static distortion intensifies

CW: Anthony... Help him. Please.

[[SFX: tape recorder stop]]

ars PARADOXICA is created by Daniel Manning and Mischa Stanton.
Episode 06: Exile features –

Kristen DiMercurio (Sally Grissom)
Reyn Beeler (Chet Whickman)
Rob Slotnick (Bill Donovan)
Robin Gabrielli (Anthony Partridge) 
Susanna Kavee (Helen Partridge) 
Katie Speed (Esther Roberts)
Zach Ehrlich (Jack Wyatt)
Charlotte Mary Wen (Penny Wise)

with special thanks to Isabel Atkinson

Original music by Mischa Stanton.
ars PARADOXICA is brought to you by the Internet: Your one-stop shop to know things about stuff.

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