ACT ONE — THE EXPERIMENTS
SCENE 1
(Act One, Scene One. July 12, 1887. A lab at the Case School of Applied Science, just outside Cleveland, Ohio. Albert Michelson and Edward Morley are about to conduct their last experiment in hopes of discovering an invisible substance called the “aether” that scientists believe fills all of space and connects all things. Every previous attempt had failed. The lab is dark. We hear the occasional rumble of thunder. Someone bumps into something.)
MICHELSON
Shhhhhh!
(We hear fiddling about.)
MARGARET
Ouch!
MICHELSON
I said be quiet now, please! (Pause) Listen!
(Papers rustle, glass clinks, thunder rumbles. A lamp begins to softly glow, illuminating Albert and Margaret sitting at opposite ends of a large table, upon which is arrayed a low-standing technical device with many parts.)
MICHELSON
Don’t do that! It has to be completely dark or I won’t be able to see the results.
MARGARET
Albert, you want to hear things in silence and see things in the dark?
MICHELSON
What?
MARGARET
Do you want to taste without eating, too? It would make cooking for you and our children a lot easier. (Pause) No, wait! I know that you still touch with feeling…they’re
measurable proof of!
MICHELSON
I have no idea what you’re talking about.
MARGARET
Ah, listening without understanding. (Pause) I get that.
MICHELSON
Margaret, please. You asked to see the setup for the test, so you might as well help balance the interferometer, not narrate it!
(Margaret walks to stand behind Michelson. He is focused on his device.)
MARGARET
Perhaps you’ve already discovered something?
MICHELSON
It’s something, all right. As clear and obvious to me as you are, standing right…
(She puts her hands on his shoulders, surprising him.)
MARGARET
It’s true! You can still feel my touch, Albert. There is hope yet for our earthy science!
(She moves her hand over his heart.)
MARGARET (Continued.)
What does this instrument tell you?
(Michelson stands and turns to face her.)
MICHELSON
Margaret. Your spoken words disturb the air which puts pressure on the membrane of my ear-drum that gets converted into electrical impulses for my brain. So this instrument tells me that waves are communicated not only in this space that separates us, but across the vast distances between planets and stars. I’ve received such faraway signals from you for many years, Mrs. Michelson…
(Michelson smiles.)
MICHELSON (Continued.)
…and I must admit that I comprehend at least some of them…only sometimes…
MARGARET
You feel a disturbance in the air, is it me? I know that I can speak to you with the beating of my heart.
(Michelson is surprised by Margaret’s touch.)
MICHELSON
And trade our messages with one another like a Morse Code love song?
(Margaret starts to speak but stops herself.)
MICHELSON (Continued.)
The Interferometer, Margaret. Edward will be here shortly for the test. Measuring differences in the speed of light requires exact settings…the slightest variation in the
setup will skew the results. Everything must stay undisturbed.
MARGARET
Our children will be disturbed if I don’t run the machinery in our kitchen and prepare dinner.
MICHELSON
Please stand by that mirror over there. I must calibrate it.
MARGARET
You did that all of ten minutes ago, Albert. What about…
MICHELSON
Please.
MARGARET
Albert, talk to me.
MICHELSON
What?
MARGARET
We have so much to say.
MICHELSON
Margaret, we are talking.
MARGARET
That’s not what I meant.
MICHELSON
Ah, words with no definitions?
MARGARET
No. I mean yes.
MICHELSON
Margaret, the mirror?
(Michelson fiddles with the equipment.)
MICHELSON (Continued.)
Nevermind, I’ve discovered something else…
MARGARET
Albert, how can you discover so much, yet find nothing? You should be looking forward to sitting down with your adoring sons and daughter. Being with them. Or with me.
MICHELSON
What? Oh, dinner? That’s no discovery! What does it matter when we eat, or what? A dinner tonight, last night, last week. Earlier, later, sometimes not at all. Talking, playing, whatever…they’re just aspects of our daily lives, Margaret, not anything important.
MARGARET
Your children think that dinner is quite important.
MICHELSON
My dear, you talk of dinner when I’m looking for the aether which binds all things in the Universe together, and through which all things move…from the most distant stars
to the muscles responsible for those beating hearts of ours that you’re so fond of noting. I want to see past that, and know is there…what is here (points at his head). Don’t you see that, Margaret?
(Margaret tips the mirror so the light disappears, returning the room into near darkness.)
MICHELSON
The light, Margaret, the light.
MARGARET
Albert?
MICHELSON
Yes, well if you’d…
MARGARET
I already see it.
MICHELSON
It? What are you talking about?
MARGARET
What are we talking about…
(They both sing “In This Open Drawer”)
Notes written to myself,
keys to forgotten doors,
pencils without points:
In this open drawer.
Funny bent paperclips,
a ball of rubber bands,
all the bills we’ve paid:
In this open drawer.
Hidden in a corner,
a handle rarely pulled,
straining on its hinges,
a bottom bulging full.
Beneath the empty wrappers,
push the past aside,
I don’t know what we’ll find:
In this open drawer.
Once we used it a hundred times each day,
for finding things to use, or putting other things away.
It could be a bore, or something more.
Garbage can or book?
Do we dare take a look
in this open drawer?
MARGARET
I’m over here.
MICHELSON
I’m not looking for you, Margaret. Is your mirror in place?
MARGARET
Yes. It’s where you left it last time. As am I.
(The light moves to the mirror on the table, which reflects it across the table to a third mirror, creating “a connection” that is obvious to the audience. Thunder booms.)
MICHELSON
We must hurry.
MARGARET
Yes, I must. Our lives beckon, whether you hear it or not.
MICHELSON
What? Oh, yes, well, my dear, if I can’t join you before the experiment, I’ll find something later. Carry on without me.
MARGARET
Like always, my Albert. We will be where you left us.
MICHELSON
Yes, somewhere, somewhere. Where is it?
(Margaret exits as Michelson fiddles.)
MICHELSON (Continued.)
There. Finished. You know, Margaret, I have been thinking of a poem lately. It’s odd for me…I haven’t thought about in years. I wonder if you know it. My dear? Margaret?
(Pause.)
MICHELSON (Continued.)
For he, alas! is blind!
O’er rough and smooth with even step he passed,
And knows not whether he be first or last.”
I am he, and I want to see..
(A loud knock offstage. Michelson goes to the door and opens it.)
MICHELSON (Continued.)
Margaret?
(Walter enters.)
MICHELSON
Ah, Walter.
(Walter pats dust from his pants.)