Torchwood: Children of Earth, Day Four-Part 2
Torchwood, Children of Earth: Day Four (Part Two)
Written by: John Fay
Directed by: Euros Lyn
Transcribed by: thepyromanical1
Disclaimer: This transcript is made without the permission of the BBC and is intended for non-profit purposes only.
Additional Disclaimer: I apologize for the poor transcription of the French reporter’s dialogue. I’ve done my best, but he talks ridiculously fast, and I’m awful at French. If you see any glaring issues with the French dialogue (or any of the English dialogue, for that matter), please let me know and I’ll do my very best to fix it.
INT. THAMES HOUSE
Bridget Spears, Lois, and Frobisher sit on a bench, looking exhausted.
FROBISHER: You two should get a couple hours of sleep while you can.
BRIDGET SPEARS: So should you.
Frobisher’s mobile rings.
FROBISHER: It’s Harkness. [He mutters something indecipherable to Bridget about tracking a location of the call] Strong coffee, loads of.
Lois leaves to get Frobisher coffee.
[During Jack and Frobisher’s phone call, there are quick cuts between Jack’s face in front of a brick wall in an unknown location, and the Thames House hallway where Frobisher and Bridget are. We eventually see shots of the baldheaded secret agent who’s been tracking Jack for Agent Johnson, too.]
FROBISHER: Hello?
EXT. LONDON STREET
JACK: Have you thought about what I said?
INT. THAMES HOUSE
FROBISHER: Bit busy, to be honest.
JACK: Let me put this right. Release my family and we can work together.
FROBISHER: Give yourself up and they won’t be harmed.
INT. AGENT JOHNSON’S HEADQUARTERS
The agents are listening in on Jack and Frobisher’s telephone conversation.
JACK: I wish I could believe that.
FROBISHER: You can.
JACK: You’ve spoken to the 456, haven’t you? They want more children.
INT. THAMES HOUSE
FROBISHER: What makes you think that?
JACK: It doesn’t take a genius.
Bridget is on the phone with Johnson’s special ops gang.
BRIDGET SPEARS: They’re on to it now.
EXT. LONDON STREET
JACK: With them going so public this time, I think they want a lot more. Millions, even. If I have to stop you, then I’ll tell the world what’s really going on. There’s too much at stake not to.
Jack hangs up.
INT. THAMES HOUSE
Frobisher hangs up, looking worried.
INT. AGENT JOHNSON’S HEADQUARTERS
Our baldheaded agent seems to have tracked down Jack, using the computer system to pinpoint a location, until it grinds to a halt, flashing the message ‘TRACE FAILED.’
BALD AGENT: Lost him. I’ll try the satellite data. It’s going to take some time.
INT. THAMES HOUSE
Bridget Spears hangs up the phone.
BRIDGET SPEARS: They’ll let us know when they get a location.
Frobisher rubs his eyes, exhausted.
FROBISHER: He’ll be gone by then.
BRIDGET SPEARS: Why don’t you get your head down on the couch for an hour?
Lois hurries in.
LOIS: Sorry, but the Prime Minister wants to see you.
Frobisher looks to Bridget Spears, looking even wearier. She rolls her eyes.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
The politicians file back in. Shot of Lois following closely on Bridget’s heels, Bridget instructing her.
BRIDGET SPEARS: …make sure it’ll run smoothly. Most important thing is to blend into the background, nobody should know you’re there.
Shot of the back of Frobisher’s head going into the board room, framed by the blue gridding of the special contact lenses.
INT. HUB 2
Gwen reads from the laptop screen, Clem seated beside her.
GWEN: Cabinet office briefing, room A: Cobra. Where all the emergency planning takes place.
IANTO: Gold Command meeting’s about to start!
The rest of the team converges around Gwen and Clem.
CLEM: They’ll sell us out, just like they did last time.
GWEN: I’m sorry to hear about your family, by the way. We’ll get them out.
JACK: I know we will.
On-screen, the politicians begin to talk.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Ladies and gentlemen, it’s been decided that we’re going to make the 456 an offer.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: A realistic number, something we can manage, and then we see what happens.
DENISE RILEY: You mean we’re going to haggle? What about the military option?
DEFENCE SECRETARY: There’s nothing to take action against. Evidently, the 456 must have some sort of base of operations in orbit, but our satellites are showing nothing. Whatever’s up there is beyond or technology.
DENISE RILEY: There’s a target sat in Thames House.
DEFENCE SECRETARY: Taking that out would be a declaration of war.
RICK YATES: A war we can’t win.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: That’s why I’ve invited John to address Gold. In terms of managing the figures, what could we offer and get away with?
INT. HUB 2
The Prime Minister’s voice echoes around. Jack closes his eyes, guilty. His voice continues, distorted through the speakers, while Clem twitches.
CLEM: Isn’t it-isn’t it? It’s happening again.
GWEN: Oh my God, they’re really going to do this.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
DENISE RILEY: Look, this won’t just be Britain, will it?
PRIME MINSISTER GREEN: The idea is that every country makes a camoflaugible contribution.
FROBISHER: Can you pass me the FAS file, please?
INT. HUB 2
RHYS: That’s it, now you’re talking.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
FROBISHER: Right, well, for a sstart, there are 21 children in Oakenton right now-21 units, unaccompanied asylum-seekers awaiting deportation.
INT. HUB 2
GWEN: FAS-failed asylum seekers. Orphans in ’65, asylum seekers today. There’s progress for you.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
RICK YATES: And no one would miss them.
A pause, Prime Minister Green and Denise Riley exchange looks.
RICK YATES: We need more. Can you bump the numbers up to sixty?
FROBSIHER: I-I think so. We can have them in from Oakenton first thing tomorrow.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Thank you, John. Now go back to Thames House and consult with the 456. Make them an offer of sixty units, and no more.
INT. FROBISHER’S CAR
Frobisher sits in the backseat as he cruises to Thames House, looking contemplative and stressed. We see a shot of the car pulling up to the building.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
The phone rings. Mrs. Frobisher hurries to pick it up.
MRS. FROBISHER: Hello?
FROBISHER: It’s me.
MRS. FROBISHER: Well, h-how did it go?
INT. THAMES HOUSE
Frobisher hurries up a flight of stairs while trying to reassure his wife.
FROBISHER: All you need to know is there’s nothing to worry about. I’m sorry, I can’t explain, but trust me, don’t worry.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
MRS. FROBISHER: Well, have you slept yet?
INT. THAMES HOUSE
Frobisher scoffs tiredly.
MRS. FROBISHER: Well, are you on your way home?
FROBISHER: No time for that sweetheart, I’m afraid it’s a matter of utmost national security.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
A shot of Mrs. Frobisher, looking upset.
MRS. FROBISHER: Are you safe?
INT. THAMES HOUSE
FROBISHER: Of course I’m safe. You know where I am, just pushing papers about. I just need to make sure all of the documentation’s in place.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
Mrs. Frobisher grows more and more worried as Frobisher speaks.
INT. THAMES HOUSE ELEVATOR
Frobisher enters the elevator alone, pushing a button.
FROBISHER: Did the bodyguards show up?
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
Mrs. Frobisher has progressed to numb with horror.
MRS. FROBISHER: Yeah, they’re outside.
FROBISHER: Good, good…good.
INT. THAMES HOUSE ELEVATOR
FROBISHER: I just wanted to say I love you, and I love the girls.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
Mrs. Frobisher listens to her husband, tears running down her face, but speaks steadily.
MRS. FROBISHER: When will you be home?
INT. THAMES HOUSE ELEVATOR
FROBISHER: Soon. Look, I’ve got to go.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
Mrs. Frobisher looks terrified.
FROBISHER: I love you.
She closes her eyes.
INT. THAMES HOUSE ELEVATOR
The elevator dings, Frobisher has arrived on floor thirteen. He hangs up the phone.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
Mrs. Frobisher has her eyes closed, and speaks after he’s already gone.
MRS. FROBISHER: I love you, too.
She dissolves into tears.
INT. THAMES HOUSE, FLOOR THIRTEEN
Mr. Dekker and Frobisher enter, standing in front of the 456’s tank.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
We see the entire Gold Command regarding the happenings on Floor Thirteen from afar.
INT. FLOOR THIRTEEN
FROBISHER: I’m sorry, but we’ve discussed your demands. We’ve arrived at a solution that might satisfy both parties. I’ve been authorized to offer you one child for every million people on planet earth. That’s about 6,700 in total; 62 from the UK alone.
THE 456: That is not acceptable.
FROBISHER: 6,700. 6, 7, 0, 0. That’s our final offer, it’s more than generous. I’ll give you some time to think about it.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
We see the live feed of Frobisher stalking away from the 456’s tank.
INT. FLOOR THIRTEEN.
THE 456: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0. 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
EXT. RHIANNON’S HOUSE
RHIANNON: (voiceover) You are turning this house into a bloody playschool.
INT. RHIANNON’S HOUSE
Rhiannon’s living room is full of children, she bustles around while Johnny reads a magazine
JOHNNY: Ten quid a kid is more like a charity.
RHIANNON: And who’s doing all the work? I don’t see you lifting a bloody finger!
The children all begin to chant in unison.
CHILDREN: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
RHIANNON: Oh my God, they’re doing it again! Mica, where’s Mica? Mica!
CHILDREN: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
Close up on David’s face, staring blankly as he chants eerily with the other kids. Rhiannon finds Mica in her bedroom, speaking in unison with the rest.
CHILDREN: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
JOHNNY: What is it?
CHILDREN: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
JOHNNY: What are you going on about?!
CHILDREN: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
JOHNNY: Lottery numbers, or what?
INT. FROBISHER HOUSEHOLD
Frobisher’s children are frozen, chanting just like the others. Their mother sobs silently in the foreground.
CHILDREN: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
INT. HUB 2
Clem speaks with the children, too.
CLEM: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
Gwen types the number that he’s been repeating into her computer.
RHYS: Coordinates? Grid reference, maybe?
CLEM: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
INT. TV
Different reporters on different television stations report the 456’s shenanigans with the children. All of them have the numbers chanted in their countries beneath them in text boxes.
BRITISH REPORTER: Children in different countries are saying different numbers.
FRENCH REPORTER: Ici en France, le nombre est 4, 4, 8, 0, 0, 0.
AMERICAN REPORTER: The children of America are saying 2, 3, 4, 0, 0, 0, 0.
BRITISH REPORTER: What is the meaning of 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0?
INT. GOLD COMMAND ROOM
RICK YATES: It’s confirmed. 325,000 is ten percent of the children-uh, units in this country. Every country is saying a different number, which in each case amounts to ten percent.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: I think it’s fair to say that our final offer has just been rejected.
Everyone sits in silence for a moment.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Okay, thanks everyone, let’s take a break.
All of the bureaucrats start to leave the table. Yates stands to leave, addressing the Prime Minister as he gathers his things.
RICK YATES: It’s worth considering, sir. The world’s population will be nine billion by 2050. That’s a two-and-a-half billion rise. The UK will go from 66 million to 71, every one of them needing food, water, a home, transport, fuel, t.v.s and fridges-
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Rick, Rick, Rick-what are you suggesting, a cull of ten percent would do us good?
RICK YATES: I’m just saying, if we need to spin this to the public, and God knows at the moment that spin is all we can do, then in an age when we’re terrified by the planet’s dwindling resources, a reduction in the population could possibly, just possibly, if presented in the right way, be seen as…good, sir.
INT. AGENT JOHNSON’S HQ
AGENT JOHNSON: Anything?
BALD AGENT: It’s all gone quiet. All our usual sources from the government-the Army, White Hall-have all gone silent. Whatever’s happening in London, no one’s breathing a word.
AGENT JOHNSON: It’s time I found out what’s going on. I’m taking a squad to London. Are the roads still blocked?
BALD AGENT: Only in the city.
AGENT JOHNSON: Then patch me through a clear route, and keep watching for Harkness. If it’s happening in London, then that’s where he’ll be.
She moves quickly out the door.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: With regrets, ladies and gentlemen, I have to tell you that we’re now facing the worst-case scenario. And right now we don’t have time for a discussion on ethics, I’m afraid hand-wringing will have to wait. All we can do at the moment is address a number of vital and practical questions.
RICK YATES: Namely, how do we select the ten percent? Who would go? How would we transport them? And, how could we sell it to the voters?
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: John?
FROBISHER: Well, the selection’s not down to me.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Nevertheless. Practical solutions, please.
FROBISHER: Once the selection has been made, then my department can arrange to bus all the children to the rendezvous points together, school by school. My staff are compiling various school databases.
As the politicians speak, Lois takes notes in shorthand.
INT. HUB 2
Gwen and Clem on the laptop as Lois takes notes on what’s being said. Ianto reads aloud.
IANTO: You just need to decide what criteria you’d use for selection.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
FROBISHER: Which is out of my hands. Over to you, sir.
The Prime Minster contemplates this for a moment, before turning to look at the other people sitting at the table.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Anyone?
Nobody answers, all of them refusing to make eye contact with the Prime Minister or each other.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Might I remind you, the clock is ticking.
DEFENCE SECRETARY: It would have to be random.
DENISE RILEY: Nobody would believe it was random, not when they’re waiting at school gates for empty buses to return.
DEFENCE SECRETARY: Well, if the system we use is demonstrably fair and reasonably random, at least we can defend ourselves.
DENISE RILEY: You’re willing to risk your kids to make it look fair?
DEFENCE SECRETARY: Then how else can we choose?
RICK YATES: We could do it alphabetically.
DENISE RILEY: Oh, yes, thanks Mr. Yates.
RICK YATES: I didn’t mean-I’ve got no kids, I wasn’t trying to-
DENISE RILEY: Yes, no kids, and no consequences.
She turns to the Prime Minister.
DENISE RILEY: And yours are already grown up.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Let’s keep this civil, Denise.
DENISE RILEY: Oh, yes! Let’s discuss the loss of millions of innocent children, and let’s be civilized about it.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: If you wouldn’t mind, yes.
DEFENCE SECRETARY: Could we limit it to one loss per family? Second born child-?
FROBISHER: That would take more time, more organization; time we don’t have.
DEFENCE SECRETARY: So, it would have to be one school at a time?
DENISE RILEY: Look, I’m going to say what everyone else is thinking. If this lottery takes place, my kids aren’t in it.
INT. HUB 2
The voice of Prime Minister Green echoes through the laptop to where Team Torchwood is listening.
PRIME MINSITER GREEN: I’m sure the families of Gold Command will be exempted anyway.
CLEM: That bastard. Isn’t it.
DEFENCE SECRETARY: …our children get protection.
GWEN: Of course they bloody do.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
DEFENCE SECRETARY: So, we could have a show of hands. I hate to be crass, but under these circumstances-
DENISE RILEY: Well, who votes? Those with kids, or those with no interest to declare?
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: No one votes. It’s down to me to make an executive decision.
RICK YATES: Do you need some time?
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Nope. Whatever happens, the children and grandchildren of everyone around this table will be exempt.
Frobisher closes his eyes in relief.
DENISE RILEY: What about nieces and nephews?
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Don’t push your luck.
DENISE RILEY: You seriously expect me to look my brother in the eye-
DEFENCE SECRETARY: We need to limit the number of people-
They all begin to talk over each other.
DENISE RILEY: -to look him in the eye and what, just give him a condolence card?
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: That’s the responsibility of government, Denise.
DENISE RILEY: No, the first responsibility is to protect the best interests of this country, right? Then let’s say it. In a national emergency, a country must plan for the future, and must discriminate between those who are vital to continued stability and those who are not. And now that we’ve established that our kids are exempt, the whole principle of random selection is dead in the water anyway-
DEFENCE SECRETARY: Only so far as-
DENISE RILEY: Let me finish. Now look, on the one hand, you’ve got the schools, and I don’t just mean those producing graduates. I mean the pupils that will go on to staff our hospitals, our offices, our factories; the workforce of the future. We need them. Accepted, yes? So, set against that, you’ve got the failing schools; full of the less able, the less socially useful. Those destined to spend a lifetime on benefits, occupying places on the dole queue, and, frankly, the prisons. Now, look, should we treat them equally? God knows we’ve tried and we’ve failed, and now the time comes to choose. And if we can’t identify the lowest achieving ten percent of this country’s children, then what are the school league tables for?
There is silence around the table.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Anyone want to speak against that?
Frobisher looks disgusted, Yates looks at his lap. The other politicians do not make eye contact with anybody around the table.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Then there we have it. John, you have your criteria. We’ve selected the ten percent.
INT. HUB 2
GWEN: We’ve got enough evidence recorded here to destroy every person in that room.
JACK: And we can use it to force our way into Thames House, finally get face-to-face with this thing.
GWEN: And get your family released.
Jack breathes deeply, then starts giving out orders.
JACK: Right, everyone know what they’re doing?
GWEN: What if I can’t get Lois to agree to this, Jack?
JACK: She hasn’t let us down yet. Rhys, you ready?
Ianto rushes forward, he and Jack load their guns. Jack looks Ianto in the face as he speaks.
JACK: Let’s go stand up to them.
IANTO: Yes, sir.
They exit the warehouse, concealing their weapons.
EXT. HUB 2
Jack and Ianto climb into the sports car they nicked from a Londoner in Day Two. They buckle up and zoom off, Jack behind the wheel.
Written by: John Fay
Directed by: Euros Lyn
Transcribed by: thepyromanical1
Disclaimer: This transcript is made without the permission of the BBC and is intended for non-profit purposes only.
Additional Disclaimer: I apologize for the poor transcription of the French reporter’s dialogue. I’ve done my best, but he talks ridiculously fast, and I’m awful at French. If you see any glaring issues with the French dialogue (or any of the English dialogue, for that matter), please let me know and I’ll do my very best to fix it.
INT. THAMES HOUSE
Bridget Spears, Lois, and Frobisher sit on a bench, looking exhausted.
FROBISHER: You two should get a couple hours of sleep while you can.
BRIDGET SPEARS: So should you.
Frobisher’s mobile rings.
FROBISHER: It’s Harkness. [He mutters something indecipherable to Bridget about tracking a location of the call] Strong coffee, loads of.
Lois leaves to get Frobisher coffee.
[During Jack and Frobisher’s phone call, there are quick cuts between Jack’s face in front of a brick wall in an unknown location, and the Thames House hallway where Frobisher and Bridget are. We eventually see shots of the baldheaded secret agent who’s been tracking Jack for Agent Johnson, too.]
FROBISHER: Hello?
EXT. LONDON STREET
JACK: Have you thought about what I said?
INT. THAMES HOUSE
FROBISHER: Bit busy, to be honest.
JACK: Let me put this right. Release my family and we can work together.
FROBISHER: Give yourself up and they won’t be harmed.
INT. AGENT JOHNSON’S HEADQUARTERS
The agents are listening in on Jack and Frobisher’s telephone conversation.
JACK: I wish I could believe that.
FROBISHER: You can.
JACK: You’ve spoken to the 456, haven’t you? They want more children.
INT. THAMES HOUSE
FROBISHER: What makes you think that?
JACK: It doesn’t take a genius.
Bridget is on the phone with Johnson’s special ops gang.
BRIDGET SPEARS: They’re on to it now.
EXT. LONDON STREET
JACK: With them going so public this time, I think they want a lot more. Millions, even. If I have to stop you, then I’ll tell the world what’s really going on. There’s too much at stake not to.
Jack hangs up.
INT. THAMES HOUSE
Frobisher hangs up, looking worried.
INT. AGENT JOHNSON’S HEADQUARTERS
Our baldheaded agent seems to have tracked down Jack, using the computer system to pinpoint a location, until it grinds to a halt, flashing the message ‘TRACE FAILED.’
BALD AGENT: Lost him. I’ll try the satellite data. It’s going to take some time.
INT. THAMES HOUSE
Bridget Spears hangs up the phone.
BRIDGET SPEARS: They’ll let us know when they get a location.
Frobisher rubs his eyes, exhausted.
FROBISHER: He’ll be gone by then.
BRIDGET SPEARS: Why don’t you get your head down on the couch for an hour?
Lois hurries in.
LOIS: Sorry, but the Prime Minister wants to see you.
Frobisher looks to Bridget Spears, looking even wearier. She rolls her eyes.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
The politicians file back in. Shot of Lois following closely on Bridget’s heels, Bridget instructing her.
BRIDGET SPEARS: …make sure it’ll run smoothly. Most important thing is to blend into the background, nobody should know you’re there.
Shot of the back of Frobisher’s head going into the board room, framed by the blue gridding of the special contact lenses.
INT. HUB 2
Gwen reads from the laptop screen, Clem seated beside her.
GWEN: Cabinet office briefing, room A: Cobra. Where all the emergency planning takes place.
IANTO: Gold Command meeting’s about to start!
The rest of the team converges around Gwen and Clem.
CLEM: They’ll sell us out, just like they did last time.
GWEN: I’m sorry to hear about your family, by the way. We’ll get them out.
JACK: I know we will.
On-screen, the politicians begin to talk.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Ladies and gentlemen, it’s been decided that we’re going to make the 456 an offer.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: A realistic number, something we can manage, and then we see what happens.
DENISE RILEY: You mean we’re going to haggle? What about the military option?
DEFENCE SECRETARY: There’s nothing to take action against. Evidently, the 456 must have some sort of base of operations in orbit, but our satellites are showing nothing. Whatever’s up there is beyond or technology.
DENISE RILEY: There’s a target sat in Thames House.
DEFENCE SECRETARY: Taking that out would be a declaration of war.
RICK YATES: A war we can’t win.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: That’s why I’ve invited John to address Gold. In terms of managing the figures, what could we offer and get away with?
INT. HUB 2
The Prime Minister’s voice echoes around. Jack closes his eyes, guilty. His voice continues, distorted through the speakers, while Clem twitches.
CLEM: Isn’t it-isn’t it? It’s happening again.
GWEN: Oh my God, they’re really going to do this.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
DENISE RILEY: Look, this won’t just be Britain, will it?
PRIME MINSISTER GREEN: The idea is that every country makes a camoflaugible contribution.
FROBISHER: Can you pass me the FAS file, please?
INT. HUB 2
RHYS: That’s it, now you’re talking.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
FROBISHER: Right, well, for a sstart, there are 21 children in Oakenton right now-21 units, unaccompanied asylum-seekers awaiting deportation.
INT. HUB 2
GWEN: FAS-failed asylum seekers. Orphans in ’65, asylum seekers today. There’s progress for you.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
RICK YATES: And no one would miss them.
A pause, Prime Minister Green and Denise Riley exchange looks.
RICK YATES: We need more. Can you bump the numbers up to sixty?
FROBSIHER: I-I think so. We can have them in from Oakenton first thing tomorrow.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Thank you, John. Now go back to Thames House and consult with the 456. Make them an offer of sixty units, and no more.
INT. FROBISHER’S CAR
Frobisher sits in the backseat as he cruises to Thames House, looking contemplative and stressed. We see a shot of the car pulling up to the building.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
The phone rings. Mrs. Frobisher hurries to pick it up.
MRS. FROBISHER: Hello?
FROBISHER: It’s me.
MRS. FROBISHER: Well, h-how did it go?
INT. THAMES HOUSE
Frobisher hurries up a flight of stairs while trying to reassure his wife.
FROBISHER: All you need to know is there’s nothing to worry about. I’m sorry, I can’t explain, but trust me, don’t worry.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
MRS. FROBISHER: Well, have you slept yet?
INT. THAMES HOUSE
Frobisher scoffs tiredly.
MRS. FROBISHER: Well, are you on your way home?
FROBISHER: No time for that sweetheart, I’m afraid it’s a matter of utmost national security.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
A shot of Mrs. Frobisher, looking upset.
MRS. FROBISHER: Are you safe?
INT. THAMES HOUSE
FROBISHER: Of course I’m safe. You know where I am, just pushing papers about. I just need to make sure all of the documentation’s in place.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
Mrs. Frobisher grows more and more worried as Frobisher speaks.
INT. THAMES HOUSE ELEVATOR
Frobisher enters the elevator alone, pushing a button.
FROBISHER: Did the bodyguards show up?
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
Mrs. Frobisher has progressed to numb with horror.
MRS. FROBISHER: Yeah, they’re outside.
FROBISHER: Good, good…good.
INT. THAMES HOUSE ELEVATOR
FROBISHER: I just wanted to say I love you, and I love the girls.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
Mrs. Frobisher listens to her husband, tears running down her face, but speaks steadily.
MRS. FROBISHER: When will you be home?
INT. THAMES HOUSE ELEVATOR
FROBISHER: Soon. Look, I’ve got to go.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
Mrs. Frobisher looks terrified.
FROBISHER: I love you.
She closes her eyes.
INT. THAMES HOUSE ELEVATOR
The elevator dings, Frobisher has arrived on floor thirteen. He hangs up the phone.
INT. FROBISHER’S HOUSE
Mrs. Frobisher has her eyes closed, and speaks after he’s already gone.
MRS. FROBISHER: I love you, too.
She dissolves into tears.
INT. THAMES HOUSE, FLOOR THIRTEEN
Mr. Dekker and Frobisher enter, standing in front of the 456’s tank.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
We see the entire Gold Command regarding the happenings on Floor Thirteen from afar.
INT. FLOOR THIRTEEN
FROBISHER: I’m sorry, but we’ve discussed your demands. We’ve arrived at a solution that might satisfy both parties. I’ve been authorized to offer you one child for every million people on planet earth. That’s about 6,700 in total; 62 from the UK alone.
THE 456: That is not acceptable.
FROBISHER: 6,700. 6, 7, 0, 0. That’s our final offer, it’s more than generous. I’ll give you some time to think about it.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
We see the live feed of Frobisher stalking away from the 456’s tank.
INT. FLOOR THIRTEEN.
THE 456: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0. 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
EXT. RHIANNON’S HOUSE
RHIANNON: (voiceover) You are turning this house into a bloody playschool.
INT. RHIANNON’S HOUSE
Rhiannon’s living room is full of children, she bustles around while Johnny reads a magazine
JOHNNY: Ten quid a kid is more like a charity.
RHIANNON: And who’s doing all the work? I don’t see you lifting a bloody finger!
The children all begin to chant in unison.
CHILDREN: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
RHIANNON: Oh my God, they’re doing it again! Mica, where’s Mica? Mica!
CHILDREN: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
Close up on David’s face, staring blankly as he chants eerily with the other kids. Rhiannon finds Mica in her bedroom, speaking in unison with the rest.
CHILDREN: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
JOHNNY: What is it?
CHILDREN: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
JOHNNY: What are you going on about?!
CHILDREN: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
JOHNNY: Lottery numbers, or what?
INT. FROBISHER HOUSEHOLD
Frobisher’s children are frozen, chanting just like the others. Their mother sobs silently in the foreground.
CHILDREN: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
INT. HUB 2
Clem speaks with the children, too.
CLEM: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
Gwen types the number that he’s been repeating into her computer.
RHYS: Coordinates? Grid reference, maybe?
CLEM: 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0.
INT. TV
Different reporters on different television stations report the 456’s shenanigans with the children. All of them have the numbers chanted in their countries beneath them in text boxes.
BRITISH REPORTER: Children in different countries are saying different numbers.
FRENCH REPORTER: Ici en France, le nombre est 4, 4, 8, 0, 0, 0.
AMERICAN REPORTER: The children of America are saying 2, 3, 4, 0, 0, 0, 0.
BRITISH REPORTER: What is the meaning of 3, 2, 5, 0, 0, 0?
INT. GOLD COMMAND ROOM
RICK YATES: It’s confirmed. 325,000 is ten percent of the children-uh, units in this country. Every country is saying a different number, which in each case amounts to ten percent.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: I think it’s fair to say that our final offer has just been rejected.
Everyone sits in silence for a moment.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Okay, thanks everyone, let’s take a break.
All of the bureaucrats start to leave the table. Yates stands to leave, addressing the Prime Minister as he gathers his things.
RICK YATES: It’s worth considering, sir. The world’s population will be nine billion by 2050. That’s a two-and-a-half billion rise. The UK will go from 66 million to 71, every one of them needing food, water, a home, transport, fuel, t.v.s and fridges-
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Rick, Rick, Rick-what are you suggesting, a cull of ten percent would do us good?
RICK YATES: I’m just saying, if we need to spin this to the public, and God knows at the moment that spin is all we can do, then in an age when we’re terrified by the planet’s dwindling resources, a reduction in the population could possibly, just possibly, if presented in the right way, be seen as…good, sir.
INT. AGENT JOHNSON’S HQ
AGENT JOHNSON: Anything?
BALD AGENT: It’s all gone quiet. All our usual sources from the government-the Army, White Hall-have all gone silent. Whatever’s happening in London, no one’s breathing a word.
AGENT JOHNSON: It’s time I found out what’s going on. I’m taking a squad to London. Are the roads still blocked?
BALD AGENT: Only in the city.
AGENT JOHNSON: Then patch me through a clear route, and keep watching for Harkness. If it’s happening in London, then that’s where he’ll be.
She moves quickly out the door.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: With regrets, ladies and gentlemen, I have to tell you that we’re now facing the worst-case scenario. And right now we don’t have time for a discussion on ethics, I’m afraid hand-wringing will have to wait. All we can do at the moment is address a number of vital and practical questions.
RICK YATES: Namely, how do we select the ten percent? Who would go? How would we transport them? And, how could we sell it to the voters?
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: John?
FROBISHER: Well, the selection’s not down to me.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Nevertheless. Practical solutions, please.
FROBISHER: Once the selection has been made, then my department can arrange to bus all the children to the rendezvous points together, school by school. My staff are compiling various school databases.
As the politicians speak, Lois takes notes in shorthand.
INT. HUB 2
Gwen and Clem on the laptop as Lois takes notes on what’s being said. Ianto reads aloud.
IANTO: You just need to decide what criteria you’d use for selection.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
FROBISHER: Which is out of my hands. Over to you, sir.
The Prime Minster contemplates this for a moment, before turning to look at the other people sitting at the table.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Anyone?
Nobody answers, all of them refusing to make eye contact with the Prime Minister or each other.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Might I remind you, the clock is ticking.
DEFENCE SECRETARY: It would have to be random.
DENISE RILEY: Nobody would believe it was random, not when they’re waiting at school gates for empty buses to return.
DEFENCE SECRETARY: Well, if the system we use is demonstrably fair and reasonably random, at least we can defend ourselves.
DENISE RILEY: You’re willing to risk your kids to make it look fair?
DEFENCE SECRETARY: Then how else can we choose?
RICK YATES: We could do it alphabetically.
DENISE RILEY: Oh, yes, thanks Mr. Yates.
RICK YATES: I didn’t mean-I’ve got no kids, I wasn’t trying to-
DENISE RILEY: Yes, no kids, and no consequences.
She turns to the Prime Minister.
DENISE RILEY: And yours are already grown up.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Let’s keep this civil, Denise.
DENISE RILEY: Oh, yes! Let’s discuss the loss of millions of innocent children, and let’s be civilized about it.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: If you wouldn’t mind, yes.
DEFENCE SECRETARY: Could we limit it to one loss per family? Second born child-?
FROBISHER: That would take more time, more organization; time we don’t have.
DEFENCE SECRETARY: So, it would have to be one school at a time?
DENISE RILEY: Look, I’m going to say what everyone else is thinking. If this lottery takes place, my kids aren’t in it.
INT. HUB 2
The voice of Prime Minister Green echoes through the laptop to where Team Torchwood is listening.
PRIME MINSITER GREEN: I’m sure the families of Gold Command will be exempted anyway.
CLEM: That bastard. Isn’t it.
DEFENCE SECRETARY: …our children get protection.
GWEN: Of course they bloody do.
INT. GOLD COMMAND BOARD ROOM
DEFENCE SECRETARY: So, we could have a show of hands. I hate to be crass, but under these circumstances-
DENISE RILEY: Well, who votes? Those with kids, or those with no interest to declare?
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: No one votes. It’s down to me to make an executive decision.
RICK YATES: Do you need some time?
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Nope. Whatever happens, the children and grandchildren of everyone around this table will be exempt.
Frobisher closes his eyes in relief.
DENISE RILEY: What about nieces and nephews?
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Don’t push your luck.
DENISE RILEY: You seriously expect me to look my brother in the eye-
DEFENCE SECRETARY: We need to limit the number of people-
They all begin to talk over each other.
DENISE RILEY: -to look him in the eye and what, just give him a condolence card?
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: That’s the responsibility of government, Denise.
DENISE RILEY: No, the first responsibility is to protect the best interests of this country, right? Then let’s say it. In a national emergency, a country must plan for the future, and must discriminate between those who are vital to continued stability and those who are not. And now that we’ve established that our kids are exempt, the whole principle of random selection is dead in the water anyway-
DEFENCE SECRETARY: Only so far as-
DENISE RILEY: Let me finish. Now look, on the one hand, you’ve got the schools, and I don’t just mean those producing graduates. I mean the pupils that will go on to staff our hospitals, our offices, our factories; the workforce of the future. We need them. Accepted, yes? So, set against that, you’ve got the failing schools; full of the less able, the less socially useful. Those destined to spend a lifetime on benefits, occupying places on the dole queue, and, frankly, the prisons. Now, look, should we treat them equally? God knows we’ve tried and we’ve failed, and now the time comes to choose. And if we can’t identify the lowest achieving ten percent of this country’s children, then what are the school league tables for?
There is silence around the table.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Anyone want to speak against that?
Frobisher looks disgusted, Yates looks at his lap. The other politicians do not make eye contact with anybody around the table.
PRIME MINISTER GREEN: Then there we have it. John, you have your criteria. We’ve selected the ten percent.
INT. HUB 2
GWEN: We’ve got enough evidence recorded here to destroy every person in that room.
JACK: And we can use it to force our way into Thames House, finally get face-to-face with this thing.
GWEN: And get your family released.
Jack breathes deeply, then starts giving out orders.
JACK: Right, everyone know what they’re doing?
GWEN: What if I can’t get Lois to agree to this, Jack?
JACK: She hasn’t let us down yet. Rhys, you ready?
Ianto rushes forward, he and Jack load their guns. Jack looks Ianto in the face as he speaks.
JACK: Let’s go stand up to them.
IANTO: Yes, sir.
They exit the warehouse, concealing their weapons.
EXT. HUB 2
Jack and Ianto climb into the sports car they nicked from a Londoner in Day Two. They buckle up and zoom off, Jack behind the wheel.