The Day the Earth Caught Fire

The time is now 10:41, 19 minutes before countdown.

19 minutes.

- Yes? Yeah. - Jeannie?

This is Pete. See if you can find someone to take a story for me.

My typewriter's seized up.

- I'll try. - You all right?

Yeah, so far.

You better come up here, Jeannie. No sense of being on your own.

Pete, how long before we know...

- Copy desk? Hold, I'm giving you newsroom. - Yes?

- Look, Kitty, do me a favour. - Are you ready?

- Who's there? - Pete Stenning. I can't write.

Now, will you take it for me?

But for what? Who says there's gonna be an edition?

Just take it.

Okay Go ahead. Nice and slow.

It is exactly 30 minutes since the corrective bombs were detonated.

Within the next few hours, the world will know

whether this is the end or another beginning.

The rebirth of man or his final obituary.

For the last time, man pursued his brother with a sword,

and so the final fire was kindled.

The Earth that was to live forever

was blasted by a great wind towards oblivion.

It is strange to think that barely 90 days ago...

Davis. Yeah?

When did it collapse? Anyone in it?

Try and get a local photographer. I'll send someone.

Mitchell!

- Yes, Dave? - More flood trouble.

Ascot Racecourse, new grandstand collapsed.

About the only thing not underwater in that area seems to be Windsor Castle.

- Martin's down there. Take a photographer. - Right.

I think Foreign gets the splash tonight, Dave. Big earthquake piece from Jakarta.

We got enough splashes with these floods.

"Exeter marooned. Five to six feet of water, main Devon roads.

"Marines move in with high troop carriers." I'll even take earthquakes.

Steve, try and get a call through to Plymouth.

Tell Denison to give us the latest Lynmouth position.

"Add flash. Beauty queen riot. Contestants sue each other."

Yeah, we got some great pictures, but Jeff says we're a family newspaper.

Down here, Mr Davis.

- Anything new on the test? - Only the last AP report, sir.

New York announces it was detonated 25 miles from the South Pole.

- Must be the biggest bang yet. - Not that test. The cricket.

Oh. Sorry, sir. Still no play. Six inches under...

- Were you getting tea? - I wasn't, Mr Davis...

- Well, you are now. - Anything else exciting?

Yeah, four transatlantic jets grounded with reported navigation trouble.

- What causes navigation trouble? - Sunspots.

- Sunspots? - Well, ask a silly question...

Right here, Mr Maguire.

More protest letters, sir.

- No. Take 'em to Features. - Features said take them to you, sir.

I can't stop the bloody bomb. It went off 10 days ago!

All right. Put 'em down.

Take those back to the morgue, will you?

- Sir. - Yeah?

No, this is Bill Maguire here.

Oh, I'm sorry, Sandy. He's out of the office at the moment.

Well, yes, even reporters have to go sometime.

Yes, all right. I'll tell him. Would you mind telling me something?

I was under the impression that you wanted a piece on thrombosis.

Well, as I can only do one thing at a time,

what am I expected to do with all these protest letters?

Thank you very much but there's 1,700 of them.

Don't worry about that now. Go down and see if my car's back, will you?

It's a tan Morris in the side entrance.

If it is, Mr Stenning's probably in Harry's Bar. Tell him he's wanted, quick.

- Sir. - And how's the thrombosis market?

Great.

This'll give the high-paid executive readers a nice moment of anxiety

at their breakfast tomorrow.

Boy!

Mr Sanderson's asking for you, Mr Stenning.

So they sent Pip the cabin boy to bail me out.

- I think he was in a hurry, sir. - Yes, well, you just tell him I'll be coming up

when he sees the bubbles.

I just got to get some clips from the library, sir.

Fine. Make sure my obituary's up-to-date.

But why alter my heading? What is he trying to do, make a job for himself?

Bill, you can't print a feature on thrombosis

and call it "You too can be the death of the party."

Aw, we're all getting soft. That's what we're all getting, soft.

- Hi, Billy boy. - Good evening.

Well, your car's safely back.

It's a fine vessel and should prove seaworthy for another hundred years or so.

What I don't understand, why bother to come back?

You borrow my car for lunch, why bother to hurry back at 6:30?

- I saw my kid today. - Oh, yeah?

Yeah. Battersea Pleasure Gardens.

She lets me see him sometime. It's my legal right, you know.

We spent the afternoon on the ghost train, the only customers in the rain.

- You know, Sandy's been screaming for you. - He's a nice little kid.

Bright, too. Remembered me after about 10 minutes.

You can throw this lot down, too. My floor's full.

Well, what's it like to have fan mail?

Biggest experimental bang of all time is 10 days old.

Instead of being proud, the public demands we stop it.

Oh, I don't know. The best science man in the street

ought to be able pull off a little job like that.

Make a trick film maybe.

Yeah, you know,

the mushroom goes back into the bomb, the bomb goes back into the plane,

which flies backwards over the task force steaming backwards from the Antarctic.

Yeah, you better start climbing backwards to Sandy's office.

He wouldn't believe you were in church.

He probably wants me to take over the Science desk.

Promotion. Stenning rises again.

Don't think you wouldn't be welcome.

- What have we got? - A flash.

"Spitsbergen reports the largest earth tremors ever recorded."

Sorry I wasn't around, Sandy.

Okay, I'm used to it.

- You know anything about sunspots? - Sunspots?

You hear that static?

My favourite tune. But I don't think it'll make the top 10.

I'm not joking, Pete.

There's usually a lot of sunspot static this time of year,

and during the last week it's been heavier than ever.

The TV people are having trouble with their picture.

And so's the public.

- Do me a 500-worder for the leading page. - Success!

Wait a minute. Here are a couple of items about navigation trouble.

- Maybe you can tie them in. - Yeah, why not?

Hey, great idea.

With all these floods, what about a Daily Express ark?

Great sales promotion, Sandy.

You know what, Pete? I really think you're gonna have to try a bit harder.

This paper isn't built to carry passengers.

All right?

Okay.

Well, Billy boy, they got me doing your homework.

500 words on sunspots.

Have you seen the figures on some of these earth tremors?

Is another planet trying to contact us?

"Are you receiving me? Are you receiving me?

"You are? Well, get knotted."

Must've been a hell of a big bang to give these seismograph readings.

Tell me all about sunspots, Daddy.

Sunspots are caused when the rays of the sun beat down on an unprotected torso,

thus causing a sun rash similar to acne.

I thought it was clean living that did that.

Ring up the Meteorological Centre.

See if you can speak to Sir John Kelly. Maybe he'll give you some quotes.

- If not, you can talk to Pat Holroyd. - Pat Holroyd, that berk from Picture Post?

Oh, he's a PRO now. He's gone legitimate.

Well, this calls for a celebration toast.

Pete, ring the Met Centre.

I'll be back. It's six and a half minutes past my medicine time.

Get me the Met Centre, please.

- Thanks for holding on, Bill. - Holding on to what?

My job. This may not be a revelation to you, but, and I quote,

"The thrill is gone, Bill, it's really gone."

You know what I think?

I should get my finger out and peck on the typewriter.

- Roughly. - Alcoholics of the press, unite.

Yes?

Oh, yes. This is Peter Stenning, Daily Express. Sir John Kelly, please.

Well, it's nice of you to be interested. I want to speak about sunspots.

Just one moment, please. What do I do with the press?

What does he want you to do?

Wants to talk to Sir John about sunspots.

Oh, dreary. Press office. No direct calls to Sir John.

Sorry to keep you waiting. I'm putting you through to the press office.

Look, I don't want the press office, dear. I want Sir John Kelly.

All right, all right. Then get me Mr Pat Holroyd.

Yeah? Oh yeah, Sandy.

Yes, I understand all that, dear, but Holroyd knows me.

We used to work together. Now, just tell him Peter Stenning.

No, I'd rather do this myself. I've got my own sources...

Look, just tell Mr Holroyd! This girl's a bigger threat than radiation.

I heard that remark. Listen, I don't care if you're Lord Rothermere himself.

All right, Beaverbrook. I'm putting you through to the press office.

You were gonna get me Mr Holroyd.

Would you get me Professor Lambert...

Listen, your job is to pass messages on when you're asked.

My job is to do what I'm told by the people who gave me the job.

And anyway, this isn't my job. I'm from the pool.

Well, why don't you dive back in and drown?

I take it you didn't get much change out of her.

I'm going over there, and I'm gonna shake her till the tilt sign goes up.

Fine. In the meantime, shake my car keys out of your pocket.

I may want to use it before closing time.

Hello. Professor Lambert?

Hello. It's Bill Maguire here of the Daily Express, Tom.

Hello. Tom, about these seismograph readings of the latest American experiment.

Would you say they were bigger than the official announcement gives out?

Oh, off the record, of course.

Something pretty huge?

- Press office. - Straight through. Second left.

- Mr Holroyd's on the same floor, isn't he? - No, sir. One up.

- Did you have an appointment? - No. I'm just going into the press office.

Hello, Pat. Well, this is a bit better than Picture Post. Isn't it?

Stenning, what the hell do you want?

- A quote on sunspots. - Sunspots?

Look, just tell me that the static, the monsoon, the compass trouble,

and the terrible shows we get on television are all caused by sunspots.

And that the sunspots are caused by bigger bomb experiments

and I'll leave you in peace.