STEVEN V. KRICKSON: Mid-twenties male
AMANDA C. WETTS: Late twenties, early thirties female
DOCTOR: Bit part! No lines! Who cares about
description?
[Curtain comes up on a grey stage. Centre stage is a large grey table, with
important-looking bulky sixties-style scientific gear cluttered around it,
flashing lights and everything. KRICKSON is lying on the table, feet towards the
audience. He is dressed in black, but covered by a grey sheet that covers him
except for his head. He appears to be asleep. A quiet pinging sound is heard.
DOCTOR in doctor-style clothes walks in from stage right, and approaches the bed.
S/he makes adjustments to the dials, then takes a step back to stare silently at
KRICKSON. Then, s/he presses a button and a slight hissing sound is heard. The
pinging noise slows and slows and slows as lights fade.]
[Lights slowly up. Same scene as before, only everything has a newer feel to
it. Subtle lighting effects make the room appear newer, almost futuristic.
KRICKSON is still on the table, but the table has the clutter cleared off of it,
with just one extremely fancy-looking piece of electronic gear attached to it.
The sheet appears shinier. WETTS enters from stage right, walking purposefully
towards the table. She is wearing light, happy colours, light green, yellow,
pink, or white, but her clothing is somehow. . . different. Perhaps it is the
sparkling earrings, perhaps it is something stranger. . . who knows.
WETTS stops in front of the table, pauses for a second to prepare herself, and
presses a button on the table. A soft hissing noise is heard, and KRICKSON's
eyes flutter open.]
WETTS: Hello, my name is Amanda. Welcome to the future.
KRICKSON: [confused and a little groggy] Wha-what? Who are you?
Where am I?
WETTS: [kindly] Calm down, take it easy. Do you remember who
you are?
KRICKSON: [slowly, taken aback] Uh, yes, yes I think so.
WETTS: Good. Right now you are in the recovery wing of the
Kennedy Memorial hospital, and the year is 2132.
KRICKSON: [almost chocking, and rising to a sitting position] What? What
did you say?
WETTS: You are in the recovery wing of the Kennedy Memorial
hospital, and the year is 2132.
KRICKSON: I must be delirious.
WETTS: No, but your confusion is understandable. Just before
the end of the millennium, you nearly died due to leaking
spinal fluid. You made the decision to be placed in
cryogenic storage so that you would be revived when a
cure was found. Do you remember that?
KRICKSON: I think so. . . maybe. . . vaguely. . . [starts to shake his
head in stupefaction, pulls back the cover and moves to a sitting
position on the edge of the couch] It's all so distant. . .
WETTS: Don't worry. Your memories will soon be back just as
clear as they were. [smiles at him] While we wait, do you
mind if I ask you a few questions?
KRICKSON: Uh, yeah, sure, go right ahead.
WETTS: Great. We just want to find out exactly what you will do
now. You have quite a culture change to adjust to, and
we want to make sure you fit in as well as possible.
KRICKSON: Sounds good.
WETTS: First off, what is your full name?
KRICKSON: Steven Vanadière Krickson
WETTS: [to herself] Ah-ha. . . [to KRICKSON] And your birthday?
KRICKSON: [a little startled] Um, August 20. Why?
WETTS: You'll see. Now, about your name. . . You don't go by
your full name all the time do you?
KRICKSON: [shaking his head, and standing up] No. I never did like
Vanadière. Usually I'm just Steve Krickson.
WETTS: [seems to think to herself for a second] Kind of a soft,
flaccid, weak name, isn't it? Unless that's what you
want, of course.
KRICKSON: Huh? Um, no, it's just the name my parents gave to me.
I never really thought about it much.
WETTS: Well, it is a very unfortunate name. Have you ever felt,
how should we say this, . . . used by others?
KRICKSON: What? Er, --
WETTS: Honestly, now. Deep down, do you feel that you were used
by your friends?
KRICKSON: [having trouble speaking] Uh, well. . . I guess most of the
time it was me helping them, but. . . maybe. . .
WETTS: I thought as much. You should have paid more attention
to your name. [brief pause] What name did you use in
your writing?
KRICKSON: [startled by the topic change] What? Uh, how did you know
I wrote?
WETTS: [with an almost condescending look] You told me you're a Leo,
didn't you? The vast majority of Leos write. Actually,
wait a second, let me guess how you sign yourself.
[thinking] Steven V. Krickson, right?
KRICKSON: [slowly, awed, almost scared] Yeah. . . . I signed that on
everything I wrote. . . How on Earth did you know?
WETTS: It looks like there are a few things I'll have to explain
to you about this world you're in now. A lot of things
have changed over the last hundred years. The Earth is
a much happier place to live in than it used to be.
KRICKSON: I would hope so. What about the over-population problem?
Ozone? Greenhouse?
WETTS: Relax. There were a few wars, but none for the last
hundred years. All our problems have been solved.
Everyone is happy now.
KRICKSON: How?
WETTS: [pause for consideration] Do you believe in astrology? Or
numerology?
KRICKSON: What? I. . . I never really thought about them, I guess.
I mean, I read my horoscope now and then just for laughs,
but --
WETTS: Yes, those daily horoscopes did give those two fields a
bad name in the past, but now. . .
KRICKSON: [slowly] You mean. . . Astrology has solved the world's
problems? You're kidding me.
WETTS: No, I'm completely serious.
KRICKSON: Look, come on, you're pulling my leg, right? You can't
mean --
WETTS: You're a Leo, right?
KRICKSON: Yeah. . .
WETTS: Have you ever heard the traditional time-honoured
description of Leo?
KRICKSON: Er, no. . .
WETTS: Well, let me give you a quick lesson. Leo is one of the
Fixed signs, which are Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, and
Aquarius. Fixed signs are organizers, and need to feel
responsible for anything they're a part of. They are the
ones who make it all happen, and are the rock that
everyone leans on. Leo in particular is a Fire sign, and
thus symbolizes things that are exciting, original, and
inspiring. All Leos have a drive to express themselves
openly, creatively, and artistically. Does this
description sound familiar?
KRICKSON: B-But, that could describe anyone --
WETTS: You take a look at the descriptions of the other eleven
signs, and you'll see that that description is the best
one for you. It works, Steven. And it has led humanity
into the most peaceful and happy era it has ever seen.
KRICKSON: I. . . I can barely believe this. It doesn't make any
sense. . . Why should the position of the sun at the
time of birth have any relevance on things like that?
WETTS: [smiling] Good question. Our scientists are still
working on it. However, it does work, and there is no
denying it. There are some odd people it doesn't work
for, but in general. . . it's perfect.
KRICKSON: [thinking] So, you put people into different jobs based
on when they were born?
WETTS: To a certain degree. For instance, I'm a Pisces. That's
one of the mutable signs, making me a communicator.
Pisces also ties into Water, which in this case means
anything multi-layered, mysterious, and flexible.
Incredibly accurate summary of what this job entails,
don't you think?
KRICKSON: So. . . does that mean that there's only twelve classes
of jobs, and your birthday determines which one you go
into?
WETTS: [shaking her head in amusement] No, no, no. That's only
half the story. We also have to look at your name.
KRICKSON: My name?
WETTS: Numerology. We take the letters making up your name,
convert them into numbers --
KRICKSON: [shocked and angered] And that tells you what I should do
with my life? I can't believe I'm hearing this. If you
think I'm stupid enough to believe that, then you
obviously have misread your signs, Miss Pisces
Communicator!
WETTS: Whoa there, calm down. I am serious, however.
KRICKSON: What? Explain.
WETTS: I will. Actually, I predicted something like this. Your
name that you use for important things, which I believe
you think of yourself as, Steven V. Krickson, works out
to the number five. The number five deals with the
intellect, and is desperate to put everything under an
analytical microscope. [smiles] Look, it's really very
simple. The human brain is basically a computer, right?
KRICKSON: Okay. . .
WETTS: And all a computer does is find patterns, right?
[KRICKSON nods] Now, lets say you teach an extremely
complicated computer like your brain a whole bunch of
names. It's going to start looking for patterns, right?
Well, what happens is that as the brain stores the
letters of a name, it translates them into numbers, or
varying strengths of electric charge, if you want to get
technical. These charges are automatically associated
with the name whenever the name is used. But, due to the
compactness of the brain, these charges affect other
parts of the brain, and actually change our perceptions
of that name. You follow?
KRICKSON: Vaguely.
WETTS: Well, let's take my name for example. My full name is
Amanda Catherine Wetts. However, like you, I never use
my full name. Instead, I prefer Amanda C. Wetts. Every
time I say that name or think that name, or anyone else
says or thinks that name, a certain charge is created in
the brain. For simplicity, we number the different
charges one through fifty-two. My name works out to a
charge of thirty-two. Now, back in your time, the
information about charges wasn't known, but enough was
understood to change names into numbers. Two hundred
years ago, you could find that the number thirty-two was
considered the "politician's number." By associating
that charge with me, I have developed, and I quote, "the
natural ability to charm others with magnetic speech."
That charge of thirty-two focused my brain to develop
specific skills.
KRICKSON: [slight pause] So. . . what about me?
WETTS: This won't come as a surprise to you. You are a fourteen
as Steven V. Krickson. Guess what? Fourteen is
associated with, and again I quote, "communication with
the public through writing, publishing, and all media-related matters."
KRICKSON: You mean. . . my name influenced me to write?
WETTS: Yes. And remember how I was commenting on your use of
Steve Krickson? That is associated with the number
twelve, which is a number with negative influences. It
symbolizes the victim, the person who is trod upon for
other's gains. I would recommend you stop using that
name.
KRICKSON: I guess. [thinks for a moment] I thought you said I was a
five?
WETTS: Yes, you are a five as well. Take the digits in fourteen
and add them together. One plus four is five. I'm also
a five, incidentally. The number you get that way
usually gives a much more general view of your path in
life. Five is the number of the intellect and both
written and oral expression. Amazing, isn't it?
KRICKSON: That's. . . . a very apt word to describe it.
WETTS: So, now you understand everything there is to know about
this new world. I'll choose a job for you that fits who
you are, and you can --
KRICKSON: Wait a second.
WETTS: What?
KRICKSON: You mean to say that everyone is given a job based on
their birthday and their name? That's it?
WETTS: Yes.
KRICKSON: Personal choice doesn't matter?
WETTS: But this way we know their personal choice before that
do, and --
KRICKSON: What happens if you're wrong?
WETTS: We're never wrong, we --
KRICKSON: [strongly] What happens if I want to change careers?
WETTS: [defensively] You won't --
KRICKSON: [stronger] What if I want to be a professional mountain
climber?
WETTS: Your personality doesn't --
KRICKSON: [even stronger, slowly advancing on WETTS, who is backing up] Or
a travel agent? Or a translator? Or any one of a
million jobs my name and birthday aren't exactly perfect
for?
WETTS: But if you aren't suited for something, why do it?
KRICKSON: [incredulously] Why do it? Why do it? It's called
freedom. It seems like it's been forgotten around here.
Everyone may be happy here, but they're all slaves to
this silly number-mumbo-jumbo!
WETTS: You'll find it's useless to resist. You really have no
other option, you know. You truly will enjoy the task we
choose for you.
KRICKSON: Never. I refuse to believe in this garbage.
WETTS: But if it works, why argue?
[they both freeze, looking at each other, as lights go down.]
[lights up on KRICKSON only, centre stage. He is seated at a desk, reading from
a piece of paper, and with a pen in one hand, with which he makes notes every now
and then on the paper.]
KRICKSON: [either speaking or pre-recorded on tape] . . . and that's the story of how this savage came into the modern world. I must admit it took me a long time to adjust to the new ideas, but I did. I was placed in charge of editing and research for this series of history books investigating the difference between our century and all others. It has been a lot of hard, yet stimulating work that I have enjoyed immensely. [pause] It took me a long time to realize this, but I am happier now than I ever was before. [pause] Signed, Researcher, Editor, and Leo, Steven V. Krickson.
The information presented in this play is all true, except for the bit about electric charges in the brain. Steven V. Krickson is based on the author, whose name calculates out to exactly the same numbers as Steven's (it was not easy to find that name, let me assure you). The descriptions and quotes come from Linda Goodman's Star Signs: The Secret Codes of the Universe, and no "poetic license" has been used to change them in any way.
The reason for writing this play was to simply to point out that the author's name, when calculated into a number, exactly characterizes the author. Magic? Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.