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.Escape from Land of the Giants Season 1	By : keithcompany Category: G through L > Land of the Giants Views: 2011 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Land of The Giants, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
(Reception. Lessala is at her desk. Dordell and Vertag step through the security door. Janet rides in Vertag’s pocket.)
Dordell: Okay, the transfer is behind us. A day early, so you can have the holiday off.
Vertag: I appreciate that, Dordell.
Dordell: Yeah, yeah. Happy One-One. (he turns to Lessala) Happy First.
Lessala: Why, thank you, Senior Agent.
Vertag: Thanks, Dordell. Happy holiday.
Dordell: Thanks. (he turns to the door to leave)
Vertag: Hey, Dordell? You’re up for Inspector this year, right?
Dordell: Yes…(suspicious)
Vertag: (offers his hand) Good luck. (Dordell looks down at the hand) I’m serious.
Lessala: Yes. Good luck.
Dordell: (Grudgingly takes Vertag’s hand and shakes) Well, thanks. And, uh, good luck to you two.
Vertag: Thank you. (They shake once more, then Dordell departs.)
Janet: Okay, what the hell was that all about?
Vertag: (sitting at the chair nearest to Lessala) One-One day. The first day of the new month, Clearskies, and the first day of the new year.
Lessala: Which is why we call it First of the First in 2^nd Nation.
Vertag: They’re weird. Anyway, in both nations, it’s traditional to announce promotions tomorrow, so we made sure to wish Dordell luck.
Janet: Seriously? Why?
Vertag: (He and Lessala make eye contact) Because it’s One-One day. (she nods) Oh, and this year, it falls on the first day of the week. One-One-One day. Very auspicious.
Janet: So, what’s the, I don’t know, theme of the holiday? Regrowth, rebirth, renewal?
Lessala: (Looks to Vertag to confirm) Um…friendship? Camaraderie? We’re all in this together?
Vertag: Dates back to the first city on the planet. Everybody serves a purpose in our society. Even Dordell. Even, tomorrow, the rebels, thieves and cops-
Lessala: Spies and saboteurs.
Vertag: (nods agreement) Everyone. Every single one of us is necessary for the running or the nature of our society. We all serve a purpose.
Lessala: So we’re supposed to spend it with family. Or at least friends.
Vertag: Do you have any? In the city?
Lessala: No. I’ll just watch TV in my room.
Vertag: Oh, you can’t be alone on One-One-One. One-One, maybe, but not-
Lessala: You wanna come over?
Janet: Oh! Could we both come over? I’d love to see your place.
Vertag: Can’t. I mean, I can’t. You can take Janet, if she wants. But the cops have tomorrow off, so I can’t leave the compound.
Janet: So… You’re going to be alone on your holiday?
Vertag: Oh, maybe Lessala could come over.
Lessala: My one day off from work, you want me to come over and spend it at work? What’ll we do?
Vertag: Watch…. TV? But at least you won’t be alone.
Janet: You guys want to come into the compound?
Vertag: What?
Janet: Yeah. Spend the day with me, some Marines. Play a game of chess or something? I could get a movie set up. Watch Star Wars or maybe have a King Kong festival.
Lessala: That might be fun. I’ve seen all the specials on TV.
Vertag: If you’re not worried that your interstellar warfare movie might reveal some of your technology…
Janet: I’ll clear it through Perez. (bites cheek to keep from smiling) In fact, I’ll go talk to the Colonel about it right now. (Vertag lifts her out of his pocket and puts her on the floor. She runs to a door in the wall and out of sight)
Lessala: Okay, then. That’s settled. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?
Vertag: Sounds like it. (stands) I’ll walk you to your car.
Lessala: I appreciate that, boss. (She gathers coat and purse, step outside. He opens the car door for her and closes it after she gets in)
Vertag: You got everything, right?
Lessala: Yeah. Unlike some people, who leave things to the last possible minute.
Vertag: I needed to be seen being nice to Dordell, to sell just how important the holiday is. (steps back to the curb) See you tomorrow.
Lessala: Yep. Loaded down like an underpaid mule…(drives off.)
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Roll Titles
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(Morning in the compound. Vertag walks out of the Giant building and down the row of structures. Outside the gunnery range he finds the metal barrel he delivered some time before (see Secretary’s Day). Rolls it into the open, then towards the front gate. Says ‘good morning’ to a few Marines as he passes them but mostly the place is deserted. At the gate end of the staging area he opens the barrel. Inside are metal parts he assembles into what looks like a barbeque. The two halves of the barrel rest on short legs, a pair of steel grates cover each side. A rotisserie axis stretches across both sides. Rather than charcoal, though, he places two lumpy metal cylinders under the grates, one in each half. He steps way back and activates a small box with a single button. There are bursts of flame that shoot up into the air, then settle down. A crowd of humans has assembled at the edge of the area he’s working in)
Perez: Hey, Vertag! What are you doing?
Vertag: Hey, Major. I’m cooking lunch.
Perez: Right now?
Vertag: It takes the fuel a while to get to the right temp, to cook the snappers properly. This is how my family’s always done One-One-One.(stepping carefully over to the back door of his building, he pulls some folding furniture and a picnic basket out and starts to set them up near the barbeque)
Perez: What are snappers?
Vertag: They’re a sort of lizard my family raises back home. Kind of a cross between a buzz saw and shark. You’ll see. (The basket has cooking tools he sets on the table. Two folding chairs are next to it)
(A car horn sounds. Vertag walks to the gate, calls up to the Marines on lookout on the compound wall.)
Vertag: Is that my secretary?
Marine1: (steps into view on the balcony of the human shelter and looks down) Yes, sir.
Vertag: Great! (opens the gate. Lessala’s car is parked outside. She stands at the open trunk. He helps her carry two huge coolers inside and closes the gates. While he does this, Lessala takes off her coat. Under that, she’s wearing a micro-miniskirt. The psychedelic pattern of the skirt’s top matches the design on her nylons. Her go-go boots and skirt are dark black. She hangs the coat over the back of one chair)
(Shot of a crowd of Marines staring up at her)
(Vertag finishes with the gate and turns around.)
Vertag: Lessala! I told you not to wear a dress!
Lessala: No, you didn’t.
Vertag: I certainly-
Lessala: (insistent) What you SAID was if I wore a skirt, the Marines would spend all day looking up it.
Vertag: Yes. (stares. She stares back)
Lessala: So? You didn’t actually tell me I couldn’t wear one.
Vertag: (face in palm) Groan…
Lessala: Well, they don’t seem to mind. Do you guys?
(Marines cheer. Perez turns around to glare at them, they quiet. She stalks off towards the Earthling Building.)
Vertag: Whatever. Give me a hand here, okay? (they open one of the coolers and pull out some dressed animal bodies. They’re about the size of a (giant) turkey or goose, but misshapen, with huge drumsticks, no wings and long, meaty tails. Vertag pulls some bags of herbs out of the cooler and both giants start stuffing the beasts.)
Brown: (drives up to the table in a Hummer, gets out with Janet) What the hell are those? (Lessala wipes off a hand and lifts them to the table) I’ve never seen them around here or on any report.
Janet: Are they birds?
Vertag: Snappers. I had these shipped from my brother’s ranch back home. Vicious little things, but tasty if you know what you’re doing. (Brown takes a few pics with his handheld, transmits them)
Janet: Somehow, this seems a bit more prepared than you let on. What would you have done if I didn’t invite you inside?
Vertag: I live in constant hope. Plus, you’re incapable of doing the wrong thing.
Lessala: He’d have begged. He couldn’t let this holiday go by without a party. (Janet steps to the bag of seasoning and sniffs. She watches the stuffing go on. There’s a total of six snappers being prepared.   Vertag checks the BBQ every so often)
Brown: So how long do they take to- (his handheld beeps, he takes it out to read) Holy crap!
Lessala: What?
Brown: Um, do you guys have any pictures of what snappers look like when they’re alive?
Vertag: They’re snappers. They look like snappers. Why?
Lessala: You are such an idiot.
Vertag: You’re fired.
Lessala: You can’t fire me on First Day.
Vertag: Oh, yeah. Well, I rehire you. With a 5% increase.
Lessala: I got a raise? Thanks. Anyway, (turns to Brown) there’re pictures in today’s paper. There’s an article on weird customs around the world for First Day. Snappers are on page three, under ‘backwater, backwoods, probably inbred weirdoes and what they think is high cuisine.’
Janet: (wide smile) Vertag! Does this mean you’re a redneck?
Vertag: I don’t know. (adopts a thick accent) It means that anyone what knowed my homing township, they assured themself that I ams a hick. And as likely be to lock myself out of a outhouse by mistake as most. (Janet covers her mouth and giggles. He returns the smile)
Lessala: Yep. That’s an Islander.
Brown: Yeah, well, do you have a copy of today’s paper?
Lessala: Let me wash my hands first. (she aims for the house.)
(Marines crane their necks to watch her go by.)
(Vertag impales the snappers and mounts them on the rotisserie. Takes a seat in one of the chairs where he can watch, near the table. )
(View shifts to the front door. Lessala steps out, jogs to the gate and gets a paper from her car)
Brown: The Fleet asks about the snappers, they are, uh, interested in seeing one alive. Would that be possible?
Vertag: Sure. (thoughtful look) I’d have to get a standby for the office. Permission for a flight to 1^st Nation. Then permission to cross over to Metropolitan Sea Side, then a ferry permit, an Islander travel visa. (looks apologetic) I used to get them automatically, but I haven’t maintained a residency. Then a car to get to… Do you want to see them at a ranch or out in the wild? I’d have to get a boat certificate to get over to Wild Place.
Brown: Never mind.
Janet: Is that…home? I mean, is that what you have to go through to get home?
Vertag: Sure. There’s no active conflict, so there aren’t any major hurdles…
(A bus pulls up behind the crowd. Perez steps down, followed by a couple dozen MPs. The MPs are all women. )
Perez: Alright! Everyone here is on a working party. (points to the distance. Camera shifts and we see about seven trucks coming out of the Earthling Building.) We’re going to set up tables for a picnic. Say yay.
Marines: (lackluster) Yay.
Perez: And we’re going to set up canopies. So any time Miss Lessala walks by, no one will feel a horribly powerful need to scrutinize body parts normally covered by modest clothing or rational angles of view. Okay?
Marines: (lackluster) Okay.
Perez: Okay. (she waves, the MPs move into the crowd and start staking out areas for the tables and tents. She turns to Vertag) Hey, Agent? The Colonel sends his respects, wants to know when to expect the meal?
Vertag: About five of your hours from now.
Perez: Thank you. And is it safe for human consumption?
Vertag: Never heard of any ill effects from eating it. Catching it…that’s a different matter.
(Lessala comes back out from the house, waving the paper. Marines taking tables and chairs off the trucks look over. An MP steps into their view, smiling and waving her taser. They return to their work. Lessala sits in her chair, opens the paper in her lap, and scoops up Brown. She holds him over the paper and points to one of the pictures. Brown’s eyes bug out.)
Brown: Those are…those are…
Lessala: Snappers. Kinda gamey, but they grow on you.
Brown: Those are…those are…(raises handheld to photograph the pic)
(Up on the Excelsior, Spacefleet personnel watch a screen as a picture forms. It shows three T-Rex dinosaurs crouching over the body of a chicken. They’re about twice the size of the chicken, a giant fence is behind them. One is digging into the carcass, two fight over a bloody piece of meat.)
Tech1: (points at screen, eyes bugging) Those are…those are…
(Back on the table, Janet reads a text on her handheld. Her eyebrows rise, then lower. She watches Vertag rise to shake some herbs over the cooking dinosaurs, then tries to act nonchalant as she gets his attention.)
Janet: Vertag? The…animal experts up in the Fleet have never heard of these…snappers. Would it be possible to get one or two delivered? Alive? For, you know, some study?
Vertag: (raises one of his own eyebrows) What? Why? You haven’t even tasted them yet.
Janet: Well, they’re mildly interesting. We’ve never heard of these animals, from giants or Earthlings.
Vertag: Probably not. I’ve never heard of Earthlings crashing on the Island. And they don’t usually get shipped out.
Lassala: Because most of the rest of the planet doesn’t consider scavengers as food.
Vertag: That’s why we feed the chickens lots of antibiotics before we throw them in the snapper pen.
(Fade out slowly, focused on the spinning T-rexes.)
(Fade in, Marine cooks carve a T-Rex up with machetes. Peterson supervises from the edge of the platter, signaling men and women on KP to rush in and collect the falling steaks. Lessala lifts a square of plywood up to the table.   KPs with empty plates rush over to the platter. Those with loaded plates step onto the board and she lowers it down to the ground.)
(View from under the canopy, we see the board come down by her boots. The rushing meat-laden cooks are greeted with cheers by Marines standing by the serving tables with empty plates. Colonel Adams walks along the tables of eating Marines, patting shoulders here and there. He rides the plywood up to the table with the next wave.)
Adams: CHOP!
Peterson: Sir?
Adams: Give the men another two rounds of serving, then let everyone get a bite to eat.
Peterson: Yes, sir. And we’ll be at it again when the watches are relieved.
Adams: Of course you will, son. Good job. (walks over towards the end of the table where Vertag is constructing snapper sandwiches. Janet and Perez sit near the cutting board and pecks at either end of one rib) Tasty tradition, Mr. Vertag. Quite tasty.
Vertag: Glad you think so, Colonel. Of course, it’s better with the right alcohol.
Adams: Wouldn’t know.
Vertag: (dramatically slapping his forehead) OH! Where is my head?
Perez: Can anybody guess, or just giants?
Vertag: The other part of the tradition! Gifts! (ducks down into one of the coolers, comes up with two different bottles, one of dark glass one clear) First, two bottles. I have my dad’s home-made ale. Kind of bitter, but it does go well with the snapper. The other is the national drink of 1^st Nation.
Perez: Hmm. What’s it called?
Janet: Remember where you’re at…
Vertag: It’s called: Drink.
Perez: Walked into that one.
Adams: I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Vertag, but I can’t have my garrison getting drunk.
Perez: Diego Garcia.
Vertag: Who’s he?
Adams: It’s a where. The back end of no-where. And now that my Exec mentions it, I do recall a time or two that a line unit got issued a ration of booze. On special holidays. Not enough to get drunk, but enough to remember the taste…
Perez: Two drinks per man or woman? No trades, no hoarding, no lotteries.
Adams: Set it up, girl, set it up. (She departs, calling for Peterson and some combat engineers. Vertag puts the bottles down on the ground) That’s quite generous, Agent.
Vertag: Oh, that’s just for the enlisted, sir. (pulls a burlap sack from the cooler. Reaches in and pulls out a gas can) Mr. Peterson’s been complaining that the Hummers use more gas than he’s been able to requisition from the Fleet. Something about interstellar logistics and such. This should work. (sets it down beside the Colonel. It looks like a brightly painted house) And Brown might enjoy this. (pulls out a folded piece of paper) I have the phone number of the person responsible for the computer hacking, the night he and Lessala went out.
Lessala: What’ll he do with that?
Vertag: It’s a gift, Lessala. Something he might not want, need, or know how to use. But then again, he might. We can only hope and watch with amusement.
Lessala: That’s true. (bends to drop the board with all the cooks and cranks. Leaves it on the ground)
Vertag: And for Perez (pulls out a folded piece of colored silk, red with green stripes. Lessala gasps)
Janet: What is it?
Vertag: Some jewelry I thought she might like.
Lessala: The Mark of Respect…
Vertag: Yeah. Um, well, maybe she can prop up a table leg with it.
Adams: Is this like a Medal of Honor or something?
Vertag: Something like that.
Janet: (stroking the silk gently) I think she’ll appreciate the gesture, Vertag.
Vertag: Anyway, sir, I found for you, (pulls out a box of toy soldiers. Six men in ornate uniforms, they stand about as tall as Adams) Figured you could always use more staff.
Adams: This doubles my staff, without noticeably dropping the average intelligence of the unit! Thanks!
Janet: What else do you have in there?
Vertag: Well, I know Roth is worried about people getting hurt in the Tank.
Adams: Which is why we have two Marines in there each week.
Vertag: Yes, well, I’ve hired the services of a vet to drop by regularly and check the status of the Earthlings that aren’t yet in your custody.
Janet: And this vet might happen to bring along an assistant that thinks Roth is the bee’s knees?
Vertag: I don’t know about any insects, but yes, Dr. Aksarra has an Earthling available for consult and detail work.
Janet: That’s a lovely thought, Vertag. For both of them.
Vertag: Thanks.
Lessala: What did you get me?
Vertag: The raise?
Lessala: Oh. Yeah. Thanks! (pause) What did you get her?
(Six Marines climb a metal spiral staircase. They reach the top and walk into a human ‘nest.’ Under a protective canopy, a watchstation on the compound wall looks out over an empty field to the North. A pair of tarps wrap odd shapes in the middle of the space. A few Marines look around with binoculars, a couple more look inside. In the distance, Lessala and Vertag talk over the table, we cannot hear what they say)
Marine2: Corporal! We are ready to relieve you.
Marine3: I am ready to be relieved. (lowers binoculars) What’s going on?
Marine4: Two drinks of some mule-skinner alcohol for every man, woman and civilian diplomat.
Marine2: I heard that someone from Artillery was organizing a class to teach Lessala how to dance disco.
Marine3: I wish there was a way to get her into a volleyball game.
Marine4: Perez would just make you play on a table, somewhere about Lessala’s waist.
Marine5: Well, she’d still jump up to spike, right?
Marine2: You want to get hit by a volleyball the size of a prefab, hit by a giantess, you go right ahead. I’ll be in the bleachers, cheering you on.
Marine6: (binocs to the North) Holy son of a-
(Alarms sound. Marines rush to one tarp and strip it off of the missile launcher. Another pulls a rope that opens the canopy for the launcher. Rockets shoot out.)
(View from north of the wall. Several of the Earthling sanctuaries have opened up and launched, rockets flying from every other one. They start to hit things in the air and blasts of SAM explosions fill the sky. Tracer rounds from the Gatling gun emplacements in the other guard towers spit out)
(Vertag glances over his shoulder and sees the fires)
Vertag: Ah, crap! (slaps his side where his weapon is usually holstered. Starts running for the door to his building)
Lessala: What? Oh. Oh, NO! (Runs towards the North Gate, waving her arms) Hold your fire! HOLD YOUR FIRE!
(Above the Earthling Building, weapons emplacements unfold and extend. Really big freaking guns unlimber and turn towards the north.)
(Inside the EB, Marines rush to consoles in the control tent. Cross chatter fills the tent as they try to make sense of various emergency reports. Adams’ Hummer screeches to a stop outside the tent. He’s out the door before it quite halts.)
Adams: What have we got?
Tech1: Some sort of ballistic attack from the field in the North.
Tech2: Secondary demolitions reported where the aerial defenses are engaged. It’s explosives, sir.
Tech3: Agent Vertag entered his house, presumably to obtain a personal weapon.
Tech4: And Lessala is running across the staging area, screaming.
Adams: Screaming? What’s she screaming? (Tech doesn’t answer, flips a switch, Lessala’s voice comes from a speaker)
Lessala (Voice): HOLD YOUR (Tech leaps to a volume control, drops it down) Fire!
Adams: Does she have her ears on?
Tech4: Yes, sir. We’ve been trying to get amplifying information but either she doesn’t seem to hear us.
Adams: Put me on her circuit. (waits for tech to nod) (Yells) Young Lady, QUIET DOWN!
Lessala (voice): (more reasonable) Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.
Tech2: (whispers to tech3) Impressive.
Tech3: (whispers back) You never met the Colonel’s daughter, did you?
Adams: That’s quite alright, young lady. Now, what do you want to tell us?
Lessala (voice): The explosives. They’re probably just fireworks. It’s a First of the First tradition.
Adams: Fireworks?
Lessala (voice): Yes, sir. You don’t want to return fire that might hurt what’s probably just a bunch of kids.
Adams: Well, by fireworks, I assume you mean some paper, a fuse, and enough gunpowder to blow one of my people’s arms off?
Lessala (voice): Um, yeah.
Adams: Well, I’m going to leave the defenses working, but I won’t authorize counterfire until we get a firm idea of who we’re shooting at, okay?
Lessala (voice): Yes, sir, thank you.
Adams: Just remember that if my people are really threatened…
Lessala (voice): I know, sir, I just want to avoid more ‘Earthling menace’ headlines.
Adams: Agreed. I’m going to issue some orders, now, you keep me informed.
(In the field, five giant teens crouch in the grass)
Kid1: (firing off a rocket-thing) Whee!
Kid2: (watching) Run, Little People! Run!
Kid3: Man, they must be terrified in there.
(Cut to a view of the compound. A dozen tanks charge out of the EB and head north.)
(Cut to the wall nests, Marines aim crew-served guns to the north while anti-air fire pops around them. Spotters scan with binoculars, point out where the teens are)
Kid4: yeah, they’re probably all messing their pants!
(Cut to the roof where two officers wait patiently to key a control panel that releases their weapon controls. The panel has a sign, handlettered: Goliath? Meet the David Mark II)
(Cut to the gate. Lessala heaves it open and runs out into the field)
Kid4: Hey! See if you can scare her?
Kid5: On it! (lifts a cardboard tube, lights the fuse, balls of fire scream out and fly towards Lessala. Her eyes go wide just before a rocket from above her head shoots down and detonates the fireball.)
Lessala: Okay, that’s IT!
Kid2: Oh, she’s mad.
Kid3: Maybe we’d better go. (watches as Lessala draws a pistol from her boot)
Kid4: Yeah. Yeah, we’d better….
(To the side of the field, Vertag’s car speeds up the road, turning to cut into the field. The kids start to scatter. Vertag pulls up near one, steps out, gun drawn)
Vertag: Who wants to spend First of the First in the hospital, shot trying to escape? (Kids halt, throwing their hands in the air. Vertag and Lessala approach from different angles. Fade out)
(Fade In. The shooting range. The five teen boys are standing against the wall. They have no shirts on. A few (giant) feet away, Lessala finishes draping one of their shirts on the rubber-covered target robot. Human tanks are lined up across from the targets. Vertag stands at the only door, gun half-drawn.)
Vertag: So, you decided to spend your holiday attacking a protected government facility.
Kid2: My dad says you have no jurisdiction in 2^nd Nation!
Vertag: Remind your dad to tell me that when he comes to pick you up.
Kid3: We didn’t mean any harm.
Lessala: Shooting explosives at Little People? Did you think about what that might have done to them?
Kid2: My dad says-
Vertag: one more word out of you and I send for your father’s file.
Kid4: Well, it’s just fireworks.
Lessala: Didn’t look like fireworks to them. Looked more like aerial bombardment.
Vertag:   You guys are lucky that Lessala and I were here. If the Earthlings had decided to defend themselves, you’d be in real trouble.
Kid1: Lucky?
Kid5: (snorts) Yeah, they might have tried to hurt us.
Vertag: Yeah. Okay, you see that Earthling tank over by the first target? (looks at kids, who are a bit confused) Do you see the security truck?
Kids (all): Oh, yeah, sure the green thing, yeah.
(Tank fires. Big hole blown in the shirt and cover of the target. Fires burn in the rubber for a bit. Shirt is totaled.)
Kids (all): Duh….
Vertag: I’m not going to tell you how many of those security trucks they have. But really, how many do they need? (Second tank fires. Missiles rise up and hit the second target in the eyes. After a brief delay, flames shoot out of the eyeholes and the head rocks back at an impossible angle)
Kids (all): Eep!
(Third tank fires, explosion in the target’s crotch rocks it back, tips it over onto the ground)
Kids (all): (grab their groins and wince)
Vertag: And the last one is something they call ‘napalm.’
(We don’t see the flame-throwing tank. Camera focuses on the kids’ faces. Orange light illuminates them while their faces go very pale. The fire burns for quite a while. We watch the faces stare while the dialogue continues)
Vertag (voice): Now. My secretary is going to take you back into the field. You’re going to collect your fireworks.
Lessala (voice): And police the area.
Vertag(voice): Right. Clean the field of your bags and matches and whatever. Then bring everything into the compound. I’ll have a tank of water ready. You’re going to tear down your fireworks and soak everything in the water.
Kid5: But that cost us over-
Vertag(voice): Napalm. (whoosh sounds as off-screen light intensifies) Then, when Lessala isn’t mad any more, and the Earthling’s are satisfied, she’ll let you call your parents.
Kid2: We don’t have any parents, sir. We’re orphans.
Vertag (voice): Then you’re going to be here all night. You’re not leaving until I talk to at least one guardian.
Kid1: We promise never to do this again, sir.
Vertag: (turning to walk out the door) I’m sure you won’t. (Lessala gestures for the five to go out the door. They turn and start to walk, flinching when the tanks rush up to form an escort. (Fade out)
(Fade in, Vertag’s room. Late at night, he has a chair beside his table. A bottle and glass of wine sit next to a single candle. Beside that, Janet dips a ladle into a shot glass of wine and fills her own glass. She takes a seat on a folding chair, holds her glass out for a toast)
Janet: To friends. In the spirit of the holiday.
Vertag: In the spirit (gestures with his own glass without quite tinking the glass together. They sip)
Janet: So the kids are all picked up?
Vertag: With amazing stories to tell their classmates. Hopefully no one else gets the bright idea to bomb the compound again.
Janet: How did the parents like talking to SID?
Vertag: About as well as Perez would like being locked in a birdcage. (Janet winces) So, anyway, happy One-One-One day.
Janet: What? Aren’t you forgetting something?
Vertag: (Thoughtful) Um….no. Nope, can’t think of anything.
Janet: MY present? Kind of lost it in the excitement?
Vertag: Oh, yeah. (pulls a small book from inside his jacket. Stands it on the table. It’s slender and not terribly thick, about half-again as tall as Janet when she stands to look at the cover. There is flowing script of a foreign language across the cover and a picture of a carved gem, strange and asymmetrical.)
Janet: Oh, Vertag… (She traces the script with a finger.) What is it?
Vertag: A book. (places it flat on the table) See, you open the cover and turn the pages, you see these words and pictures.
Janet: Jackass. (but with a smile) What is it about? (she steps closer to see a variety of line drawings of huge buildings, odd maps, and wizards wielding weird energies.)
Vertag: It’s an old, old book. Probably illegal to own. Certainly illegal to transmit to foreign powers. Talks about things that our government doesn’t want just anyone to know.
Janet: Wow. What is this language?
Vertag: I don’t know. I’m hoping you have people who can figure it out. I got this from Grandpa, and he only knew the title. (She looks up at him with a questioning glance. He closes the book and points to the script.) It supposedly says: ‘Our travel here and why we left Atlantis.’
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Roll credits
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.Escape from Land of the Giants Season 1