Until the End of the World (Bis ans Ende der Welt)

UNTIL THE END OF THE WORLD

1999 was the year

the Indian nuclear satellite went out of control.

No one knew where it might land.

It soared above the ozone layer like a lethal bird of prey.

The whole world was alarmed.

Only Claire couldn't care less.

At the time, she was living her own nightmare.

The same dream arrived each night.

She was gliding over an unknown land, pleasantly at first,

but then the gliding would turn into falling,

the falling into panic, and then she'd wake up.

Hey!

Pietro?

- Are you still here? - You saw that guy

in the green room, remember?

He's a creep.

He won't wake up.

Sustained-release drugs. Fucking dangerous.

Would you mind?

Phoning Dr. Fabrini again? Sure.

Pietro, again? You should be in bed.

I don't sleep anymore, Doctor. Sleeping is out.

All of us who knew Claire well

loved for her optimism, her energy and her courage.

We remembered these things about her, just as we liked to forget

her capacity for self-destruction.

They were all part of her, and we accepted them.

When Claire had left me,

I had shut myself off completely.

I didn't see anybody

and avoided leaving the apartment.

In my solitude, things happened to me.

I started to pray again, as I had done long ago,

hesitantly at first, but accepting the good that it did me.

And out of this peace

came the beginning of my first novel.

Claire was its leading character.

It began, "For two months, Claire had drifted through the parties,

the designer drugs, the one-night stands,

seeking excuses to obliterate herself,

until she realized that if she was to go on living,

she couldn't go on living like this.

Hello, Claire.

Your dashboard computer system is now on-line.

Performing car initialization.

Press "one" to activate the electronic map service.

A friendly reminder that you are over the speed limit, Claire.

Traffic congested for the next 30 kilometers.

Unable to provide alternative route.

I'm sorry, Claire.

The satellite emergency created traffic jams

wherever people fled from areas of possible impact,

like the south of France.

Only Claire, impatient as ever, fled the traffic jam

and chose to thrust herself into the unknown.

In doing so, she changed the direction of her life.

Of all our lives.

You are leaving the map zone database. You're on your own...

Claire.

Claire felt strangely light.

She knew she'd been meant to die here, on the high plateau of the Lozère.

It was a miracle she was alive.

The angels had somehow made a mistake in their accounting

and had left her with a precious gift.

She had been given a whole new life,

which she could use this time to be a better person.

She could be of service.

All she needed was an opportunity, a mission.

Shit.

She didn't see us, Raymond.

Sorry, but we haven't been introduced.

- Claire Tourneur. - I'm Raymond. He's Chico.

My dear Chico, you could apologize to Madame Tourneur.

- You okay? - No. Not okay at all!

Sorry. I acted like an idiot.

Sorry.

Is your car still driveable?

People are always labeling you.

You say, "Rock and roll," and they ask you, "What type?"

We just do rock and roll. I'm a drummer.

Have you ever heard him play?

He's been driving me nuts for 15 years.

It's the same for Raymond.

As soon as he says he's Buddhist, people start hallucinating.

- He can't stand it. - No connection.

- No harm in being Buddhist. - For his work, there is.

So what's your job?

Ha! The job is...

...fucking, fucking.

- I could go for a draft beer. - For a change.

Leave that!

Don't touch that!

Who's there?

Me.

We gotta talk.

Your bag's heavy.

With this, I'm rich.

You can buy me a coffee in Rome.

Did you look carefully? It's 50,000.

Just what I was saying: the price of a cappuccino.

This'll cover half a cow in Ethiopia.

- You been there? - Yes.

Where else you been?

Sort of everywhere.

I don't live anywhere.

Anyway, no place I wanna go. Oh, yeah, except to America.

How much is in here?

Count it. I'm leaving it here.

Sleep on it.

Perfect.

Claire's head was spinning.

Was this a trap or exactly the opportunity she was looking for?

She spent another sleepless night keeping her nightmares at bay.

Anyway, I don't believe that people ever offer free services.

- And you're a Buddhist. - A realist.

So?

I'd agree to 30%.

No, money's been counted and traced.

Oh, calm down, Raymond.

If you change your mind, I don't care.

No sweat.

If the address is false, we'll know how to find you.

So no point trying to double-cross us.

We don't know who'll collect the money.

If you wanna find me, get a drink,

or listen to a little music...

Yeah, you never know.

Here's the music I play.

It's only a demo.

Thank you, Chico.

- Put it in savings. - Don't you worry.

Okay, so long, babe.

Claire thought about her future