Scene 5 — The Call

Scene 5: The Call

BOOBA is lying on the floor, on her side, in a languid and suggestive position. She is dressed in a summer dress and pleaser heels. She scrolls on her phone. Papers and forms are scattered about her.

Suddenly, a laser dot appears, on the floor in front of her. BOOBA's eyes lock on it, and she puts down her phone. She tries to catch it with one hand, batting at it like a cat.

The red point moves, and BOOBA reacts, her body coiled, attentive. More determined now, she shifts forward with lightning quick reflexes.

Then the dot moves further along the floor. BOOBA is forced to get up if she wants to continue the chase. She does. She's going for gold.

With an increasingly meaner spirit, the point eludes her.

Fed up, BOOBA picks up a chair and hurls it at the dot.

TANYA, a woman about BOOBA's age, enters with the laser pointer. She's in a pencil skirt and a white blouse, suggesting a corporate context … but the makeup on her face is heavy and smeared.

TANYA: (Casually) You ever feel like we're not really here?
BOOBA: Where did the red dot go?
TANYA: Like we're not really real?
BOOBA: (Looking under the chair, still distracted) You're losing it.
TANYA: (Dissociatively) Something's wrong.

BOOBA, alarmed, turns her head sharply in TANYA'S direction. Then the fight leaves her body. She notices the laser pointer in Tanya's hand.

BOOBA: Can I have a turn?
TANYA: Yeah. (She doesn't move).

BOOBA takes the laser pointer from her and begins to play with it, scribbling the beam across the floor.

TANYA: Every day feels like … walking through fog.
BOOBA: Yeah well, lunar days are longer. By weeks.

TANYA: I'm not even sure what we do anymore.
BOOBA: We lie still and pretend.

TANYA: Do you remember signing up for this?
BOOBA: We signed contracts. We got our visas.

TANYA: They kept our passports.
BOOBA: It's temporary. It's all temporary.

TANYA: We're not employees. We're bodies being moved around.
BOOBA: Bodies.

TANYA: Think about it. We're brought here on the promise of an internship, a fresh start. But look around. We're stuck. No one's checking in on us, no one's asking if we're okay. We don't have the freedom to leave, to go anywhere. And they keep dangling these "opportunities" in front of us, making us think we're moving on up…

BOOBA: But it's such good money.

TANYA: We're property, Booba. They own us. We're here to be sold to the highest bidder.

BOOBA: How many days of daytime do we have left?
TANYA: Seven.

BOOBA: Homie will be here soon.
TANYA: Where will he stay?

BOOBA: I saved up and got Homie and I an apartment in the Little Tranquillitati. I'm allowed to move out tomorrow.

TANYA: They let you do that?
BOOBA: Yeah. I've been good. I can't wait to be let out. We're going to try oxtail and jerk chicken and soup joumou. Homie is obsessed with Tranquillitatian culture, he's a history buff. There are no Tranquillitatian communities on Mars.

TANYA: But you'll still come back here? To work?
BOOBA: Of course. Who do you think is going to pay for the holiday?

TANYA: Does Homie know what's going on?
BOOBA: Yeah. He knows I'm here for career development. (Her alarm goes off) I have to call my boyfriend. Cos of the time zones.

TANYA: Should I leave?
BOOBA: If you want. My laptop is bugged.

TANYA exits. BOOBA opens her laptop. The ringtone of a video conferencing app.

HOMIE (on the screen, looking a bit stressed): Booba, hey. I've got more of the stuff I need for the passport sorted. But I still need to get ready for my meeting tonight with the clientele at the moisture farm. It's been so hectic.

[Continue pasting the remainder exactly as written through:]

BOOBA softly closes the laptop, and curls up on the floor.

END OF ACT 1