The Amelia Project - Episode 76 - Copernicus (1543)
Episode Date: August 2, 2024Despite working on his theory of heliocentricicsm for three decades, Copernicus still doesn’t feel ready to publish. His two editors, Filip and Antoni, are at their wits end. They believe that the o...nly way they will ever publish, is if Copernicus dies... Don't want to wait for the next episode? Consider becoming a patron or subscribing on Apple Podcasts to get early access, listen without ads, and get bonus episodes! The Amelia Project is created by Philip Thorne and Oystein Brager and is a production of Imploding Fictions. This episode features Alan Burgon as The Interviewer, Hemi Yeroham as Kozlowski Josh Rubino as Filip, Dallas Hawthorne as Antoni, Jonathan Kydd as Copernicus and Julia C. Thorne as Alvina. The episode was written by Newton Schottelkotte, with story editing and direction by Oystein Brager and Philip Thorne, sound design by Beth Crane and Hedley Knights, music by Fredrik Baden, production assistance by Maty Parzival and graphic design by Anders Pedersen. Website: https://ameliapodcast.com/ Transcripts: https://ameliapodcast.com/season-5 Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ameliapodcast Donations: https://ameliapodcast.com/support Merch: https://www.teepublic.com/stores/the-amelia-project?ref_id=6148 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ameliapodcast/ Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ameliapodcast X: https://twitter.com/amelia_podcast Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/theameliaproject.bsky.social Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Hello, this is Philip, co-creator of the Amelia Project,
and I need to disappear.
I'm in my wardrobe and they're after me.
The bills are piling up, actors and technicians invoices,
hosting fees, studio rental costs
come out wherever you are where are you that's julia and alan and they are pissed off no use
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Kinder Surprise just brought out a new range of toys and those eggs won't buy
themselves Pip
Aha!
I think they found me
I think he's in that wardrobe
Help! I think they found me. I think he's in that wardrobe.
Help!
This episode is dedicated to Michael David Smith, who finally made that phone call he
was supposed to make, and it actually had deadly consequences.
Michael will reappear as a lighthouse keeper in Ireland.
Thanks to Michael, and thanks to all our Patreon supporters. Enjoy the show.
So, you said next up was a story about an astronomer and mathematician?
Indeed.
Good gravy. Tired already?
Already?
But the best bits are still to come.
We've been here for... how long have we been here?
Has it been three hours? Six? More or less? I've lost all sense of time.
Yes.
Anyway, more than a little past my bedtime.
Ugh, God, I miss when I could stay up this late and not feel it the next day.
I was going to say I'll have a coffee after all this, but I think I'll just skip straight to caffeine pills.
Ugh, to be young again.
Have you started getting back problems?
I tremble in anticipation.
I just take ibuprofene.
So, this astronomer, give me a hint.
Well, we're in Frauenburg.
The year is 1543.
Hmm. Yeah, I'm going to need more than that.
You're kidding. Oh, right. Hmm? Hmm... Yeah, I'm gonna need more than that.
You're kidding.
Oh, right.
Um, let me see.
Oh, a Polish doctor who pioneered, among another less accurate theory, the idea of the Earth
turning on an axis which accounts for the changing of the day and the equinoxes.
Really?
No, I thought that kind of gave it away.
Alright.
Oh, you'll get this one.
Author of De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium Librivii.
No?
Oh, Influencer of Galileo, Kepler, Descartes and Newton.
Theorized have learned the Marigay method of devising equalized motion of revolving epicycles all on his lonesome?
Oh, for Pete's sake! It's Copernicus! So The Amelia Project, created by Philip Thorne and Oesstein Ulspeck-Braga, with music and
sound direction by Frederick Barden, and sound design by Headley Knights and Beth Crane. Episode 76, Copernicus by Newton Shuttelcotti.
Hello?
Anyone home?
Your door was... unlocked?
Not a good sign.
Well, maybe it's just a nice neighborhood.
Tell that to the rat drinking from a wine bottle we passed a minute ago.
He could be an aspiring sommelier.
Of course, and a chef too.
Are we breaking and dentering?
Uh...
Philip, they're here.
Now?
Yes, in the living room.
The living room?
Yes, living room.
Living room? Office.
Hello, gentlemen.
Uh, apologies for what's about to happen.
Oh my.
Good evening, gentlemen. Do come in.
We, uh, did. Your door was unlocked.
Yes.
Oh, uh, whoopsie.
Well, allow me to introduce ourselves.
Philip Sigonski and my associate, Antony Weissenbach-Fedstein.
Charmed, I'm sure.
Why is your associate wearing a tablecloth? It's a cloak.
It is my mother's tablecloth that I don't remember agreeing to let you do this with.
Well, you know what they say about asking permission and forgiveness and which is better.
I'm going to prove them wrong after this. Yes, yes. I'll do the dishes and the laundry
for the next week. Just let me go on. Fine.
Gentlemen, we are so glad you're here.
Antony and I are the joint proprietors of Sygonski Publishing & Company.
Formerly located just down the way, currently located...
here.
In this living room.
Temporarily.
Oh, it's, um, not named after both of you?
My name wouldn't fit on the sign.
Viz-Viz-Vizem-Bach-Field-Stain?
Please stop.
You'll hurt yourself.
Weisenbach-Feldstein.
See, just let him say it.
Agreed.
Right.
But I say, we called upon you two gentlemen because we happen to have a very discreet,
extremely enticing business proposal you might be quite interested in.
Oh, no thank you. We don't want to join a cult.
We're not a cult!
But the, uh, tablecloth. Cloak. Thing.
We are simply two enterprising individuals, recognizing two of similar ilk. Men like
us have got to stick together, yes? In our... brotherhood?
Alright, alright. I said I would give you two minutes with all the cryptic malarkey.
No, no, no, no, no, no, please! Just one more! I think they've got it!
Excuse me?
Your excuse. Don't mind him.
Do! Do mind me! I figured you fellows would be all about the cloak and dagger business.
No, no, Phillip. They... they seem surprisingly too well-adjusted for that.
You're crushing my dreams, you know.
Aw, don't encourage me.
I'm sorry, but what's happening?
You two are the Brotherhood of the Phoenix, correct?
Philip didn't misspell the address?
We are, yes. How did you find us?
Hm.
We're a publishing house.
We have access to quite a number of reference books,
and your operations work truly litters the pages of history.
See this?
Yes?
A rare copy of Lysistrata dedicated to the Keepers of the Phoenix.
Ah.
Oh.
Ha ha ha ha.
Why are you temporarily located in the living room?
Eh, it's a bit of a long story.
And the reason we've asked you here actually,
this is a job offer.
Was that not clear?
No.
Oh, not to me, no.
Well, now you know.
I was trying to be discreet about it.
Hence the cloak.
Tablecloth?
Table cloak!
Ha ha!
That was a good one.
So which of you is it that needs disappearing?
Mr. Sigunsky or Mr.
Don't.
It's neither of us.
Oh. We've had a rather problematic client as of late, and to put it delicately, we're at our
wits end with the fellow.
I see.
Demanding?
And then some.
His name is Copernicus.
Nicholas Copernicus?
Have you heard of him?
Here and there.
He was that fellow who came up with some idea about the sun being the
center of the universe. Yes, a friend of mine is a secretary to the pope and mentioned something
about it taking five hours to explain to the poor man.
Yeah, that tracks.
He's got a bit more than that these days. A whole book. And we're the house he selected
to do the publishing of it.
Ooh, what an honor.
You would think, yes. There's just been one...
small problem relating to client-contractor relations.
The man's an anal-retentive, psychotically-perfectionistic, chronically-dissatisfied
prick.
What he said.
Oh my. Anthony and I were hired to publish his masterpiece,
Dei Revolutionibus Orbium Celestium,
10 years ago.
10 years of rewrites, production halting,
thousands of little, oh, before we send it off
to the printing press, let's just change this one teeny thing.
Now we're very understanding publishers.
Oh, your book is your baby. It's
a controversial theory. Yada yada yada. But honestly, ten years? He's far exceeded the
original compensation for the project and we're simply through. That bastard has put
our business so far in the proverbial hole we lost the lease on our offices and had to
set up shop here. Right, yes, but where is here?
Oh hello. You boys didn't tell me you were having people over. You know, if you're going
to live in my home, we might need to establish some ground rules.
That would be here.
My name is Nicholas Copernicus. It's nice to meet you gentlemen. May I ask
the nature of your visit? Oh, well, we are travelling from... Doctors! They're doctors!
On a house call! I'm sick! Oh God, are you deathly ill?
Yes.
No.
No.
Because that would raise the question of why he's so sprightly.
It would, yes.
No, Philip.
Philip here simply do for his yearly checkup.
What a novel concept.
Going to the doctor every year, even when you aren't ill, do they let you do that?
That does sound far-fetched.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Simply marvellous.
And tell me, Starry, I don't think I caught your names.
Oh, um, we haven't given them yet.
No, um, Rosen is the name, and this is my associate, Dr. Stern.
The medicine or studies, Dr. Stern?
Yes. He's not very chatty, is he? Hmm. The medicinal studies, Dr. Stern.
Yes.
He's not very chatty, is he?
Was there something you needed, Nicholas? Oh yes, now I know we agreed upon a final, final,
final draft yesterday evening.
I was thinking, do we have enough diagrams?
I was thinking, do we have enough diagrams?
Sorry, go on. Diagrams.
Yes, we can't be sure that everyone who reads the book
will be able to, well, read.
And I think it would lend some more weight
to the words themselves
if we can back it up with labeled pictures.
That is the dictionary definition of a diagram.
Brilliant, so you'll get on with it.
Thank you.
Well, spin me around and call me the center of the universe. Very interesting chap.
Really wish I'd greased those stairs.
You know, by the third Yom Kippur we were working for him,
I asked God for forgiveness for all the times I'd wished he died in some horrible fashion.
After the sixth, I stopped asking.
That is precisely why he needs to disappear.
The man is literally unforgivable.
I'm sorry, I don't understand.
How could a person even have ten years' worth of edits to make to one simple theory?
It really isn't that complicated.
Heliocentrism is just like geocentrism,
except completely different and potentially blasphemous.
Oh, how so?
Oh, God, here we go again.
The idea that the sun is the center of the universe,
with Earth and all the other planets orbiting around it,
it's not exactly new.
As far back as the philosopher Philalaus in ancient Greece,
who taught that at the center of the universe was a central fire, which all heavenly bodies,
including the sun, revolved around, non-geocentric models of the cosmos have been proposed. However,
while many of those models have used the mathematical concepts of the equententusi couple,
our perfectionist friend Copernicus
has found a purpose for the adoption
of the heliocentric model by arguing
that its validity solves the issue
of planetary retrograde motion
when an object orbits or rotates
in direct opposition of the object, it rotates around.
Now Copernicus posits that this motion is, in fact, a parallax effect.
It's all in our heads!
If you'll allow us to show you the latest draft, you'll see that the tables he's created
based off of heliocentrism are able to compute far more accurately the...
Alright, alright, alright, stop.
What?
Is the science lesson really necessary?
Yes.
No.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
No, it isn't.
All right.
No, it isn't.
It isn't.
If we didn't have several hundred more years
to get through, perhaps.
Yes, yes, all right.
Perhaps another time.
Now, where was I?
And then, if you really want to understand where he's coming from, Ancient India has
a work from the third century AD that's just marvelous-
Anthony, what are you doing with my cloak?
Uh, strangling myself.
Um, I think we get the gist of it.
Oh yes.
Oh, but I really do think it's quite interesting how-
Philip?
Fine.
I mean, the point is, it's complicated but manageable.
Those who matter will understand it, and those who don't will probably be too senile to demand he be excommunicated anyway.
We've been endlessly accommodating, made every assurance that I
even had our rabbi look it over. But of course, that didn't mean much to Copernicus. Isaac
found it a nice read, though. Anthony, have we sent him the birthday card yet?
Nope. Have you signed it?
Focus, Philip. Oh, we've also assured him sequel rights.
He won't budge.
Still, he has edits.
Well, I'm very sorry to hear that, but I'm afraid what you're asking is completely unethical.
We can't fake the death of a man who doesn't want to fake die.
It's morally bankrupt.
What?
Do we have the funds for morals? Just about. And anyway, we believe in informed
consent with every client. Yes, what goes in the bedroom goes in death faking. That's
what we said. You see, we go over each detail of the death and their new life afterwards
for total approval, knowing all the risks potentially involved. What do you mean you have scruples?
You're a secret society!
A what?
Shh, don't, don't.
What was that?
Oh, now look what you've done.
What did you say?
Shh.
Uh, uh, uh, picture of piety.
Friend Roshan is considering becoming a priest.
Isn't that right?
Yes.
I'm considering getting the hell out of here.
Yes, am I.
Oh, you're leaving?
Well, in that case, if you gentlemen wouldn't mind sitting down with me and going over some...
They're not leaving!
Yes, we are!
Really, just a couple more notes.
I think we can lock this thing down.
Unhand me, please.
Let go!
Open your mouth.
And come to think of it, if we're gonna have to pitch your phone, maybe...
Please, Tad, all of us seem to leave him.
What about the morality of us losing our home?
Not our problem!
Get your hands off of him!
Hello!
Calm down, please.
Talk about this!
Let go of my arm!
Gentlemen!
Listen up.
Breathe in. Breathe in.
Breathe out.
You are our preferred option.
We are reasonable people, but it has been a very, very long ten years, and we are prepared to do what is necessary to finish this contract and
remove that man from our lives for good. While we do not want to have to do what
we are going to do should you leave, rest assured we will be more than eager to do it.
Right, um, could we snag a quick cuddle for a moment?
Yes, of course.
Thank you.
Are you gentlemen still there?
Mr. Copernicus, Dr. Stern and I are still preoccupied
with our patient, if you could give us some privacy.
Oh, all right.
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Where am I?
Welcome to Desert Skies, traveler.
Your journey through the physical plane has come to an end.
I am the attendant. My colleague here is the mechanic.
Yo!
This is your last stop on your way to the great beyond.
It's our job to make sure you're prepared for the ride.
Now, before hitting the road, we have an impressive selection of over 34
varieties of microwavable burritos. Um what what's going on? There's got to be a better
afterlife than this. I mean come on. Uh that's offensive. Something seems to be wrong.
You left something major undone. I have a life outside of this gas station you know. You quite literally
do not. Any hobbies? Nope. Ever travel? Nope. Love interests? Are you kidding? Oh my god.
You're like the human version of a plain bagel. Cash register. How can I help you attendant?
Play some music? You got it. It's kind of funny though. What I needed wasn't back there. It was here, waiting for me.
I wonder what it feels like, Neck, to miss the physical plane, the people you left behind.
You know, I had a wife who died three years ago.
Wish I could go back.
No, you don't need to go back. You just need to be here.
And a new traveler approaches. Ready, team?
Ready, Lieutenant.
Good. Let's do this.
Find desert skies wherever you listen to podcasts.
Dr. Stern, I really think they're going to kill that man
if we don't help them.
That was the implication.
So ethically, we should take this job.
I suppose.
I mean, the old man is close to death anyway,
and we're not actually killing him.
We just have to treat this as a delicate process.
I can do that.
Well then, fantastic!
Always convenient when securing additional funding is the moral option.
What are you talking about?
What are we going to do if they leave?
I don't know.
Kill ourselves?
Antony, they think we're capable of murder!
You're going much too hard, much too fast.
You're going to scare them away!
You seem to underestimate the dark and twisted lengths I am willing to go to, Philip.
Oh, you're not dark and twisted. You're just about to have your month, please.
No wonder the last of the chocolate's gone missing. I need you to cool your bonfire and let me do the talking.
If you don't take off that ridiculous cloak and start thinking practically. I'm gonna have-
Gentlemen, you've got yourselves a deal.
Wait, what?
We are willing to help you.
Seriously?
Well, would you look at that?
Splendid!
Shall we discuss terms?
Is there a contract we need to sign?
Oh, it's all very exciting.
First, we'll need you to-
Anthony, figure.
How did he get in the kitchen?
Have we added back in the bit about the moon?
We made it an entire section of the manuscript, yes.
With the equinoxes and everything.
And everything.
Hmm.
Philip, are you wearing my tablecloth?
It's a cloak!
It's not your tablecloth, it's my mother's!
Oh right, you boys know where I put those planetary tables for book 5?
Up your ass.
On the table outside.
Brilliant, thank you.
Dr. Stern, you promised you're not detecting anything contagious in Philip, right?
No!
Oh thank heavens.
You know, a cousin of mine caught the Black Death a few years back and it's absolutely
horrendous.
Fever, chills, couldn't get out of bed, and his neck swelled up like a gorge tick.
Really?
Oh God!
I make a point of doing a neck examination first thing every morning.
You never know when the plague can strike.
Utterly ghastly.
It was like two huge pineapples were stuck on his neck.
Just as big and just as yellow with all that pus and the blood, oof, scads of it just seeping
out of every orifice like a nightmarish waterfall of bodily...
Oh!
What the...
What just happened?
Okay, there.
That's right.
You alright?
There you go.
You alright?
Deep breaths.
Deep breaths.
Please stop talking about pus waterfalls.
Well, you heard him.
Go get some water if you want to be useful.
I'm terribly sorry.
Where are the cups again?
This is your house.
I'll just go poke around then, right?
Are you alright?
Yes, I just don't deal well with that kind of thing.
Blood and the what not.
Is that so?
Very inconvenient.
I see.
Dr. Stern?
No turns.
Right.
We're off then.
What?
What?
You two are clearly not the type of individuals capable of cold-blooded murder.
There is blood involved after all.
I could do murder. I'd be excellent at murder.
No you wouldn't.
Well you wouldn't either. Yesterday there was a spider in the kitchen and you wouldn't
get off the table until I took it outside.
People die of spider bites all the time. It is a legitimate concern.
Yes, I could feel your gratitude in how you screamed, Philip, Philip, get it out of here.
Do you think we can just leave without them noticing?
It is definitely worth a shot.
No, please.
All right, maybe we aren't particularly good at murder
in the abstract, but we could learn.
We could believe in ourselves about it.
Power of positive thinking and whatnot.
You know when you kill people,
they bleed and emit fluids, yes?
Oh, and you would know?
I do not have to answer that outside of a court.
I believe you just did.
Look, we are very sorry that one 70-year-old man
has somehow managed to bring things to this extent.
But perhaps you should just throw in the towel
or the tablecloth.
The money can't possibly be that good
if you're living with Copernicus,
and he seems like quite the handful.
Does this book really, absolutely need to be published that much?
Yes! Yes! Yes, the man is a nuisance.
Yes, I miss being able to take a bath without mistaking a science experiment for soap.
Yes, you would have to pay me ten times the amount of money we've
made off this job if I'd known how long it would take. But it's not all about that. This book is
going to change the world for decades, for centuries. We believed that the planet we live on
was the center of the universe, with everything revolving around us.
The people who live on this planet who will not let me put a goddamn mezuzah on my doorframe without tearing it to bits
have based their entire sense of power and relevance around their planet, made by their god, being the center of their universe. And now we have proof.
We have mathematical equations and charts and documentation of the heavens rotation
that tells us we are not that special actually.
We're one planet of many, maybe hundreds or thousands out there spinning around, a
giant ball of fire and heat surrounded by who knows what.
Do you understand the possibilities
inherent in that idea? That we are not beholden to some divine label as the
center of the universe? We're just a rock with trees and water and some people on it. None of them chosen. How fucking revolutionary is that?
Antony, I didn't know you felt that way. Well, against my better judgment, I believe it.
I think this book is going to change the world. We're the people who are going to publish it,
and no one will remember us. But they'll remember those words on those pages for the rest of history, and damn
it, we need to make sure they get there.
Does that mean you want to hear my thoughts on the moon bits?
Don't push it.
Do you really think that one book can do so much?
Now Dr. Stern, we've been around far too long to doubt that.
It's true.
Gentlemen, we bear our souls to you. Copernicus needs to shut up and pretend
die so that someone, anyone, can at least get one over on the Pope.
But when you put it like that, it sounds slightly less noble.
You have seen what the Pope's been doing lately, right?
Fair point. It is a proposition that tugs at the heartstrings.
Then I do dislike the current Pope.
Oh, I knew I liked you.
Yes, yes, but you can't just push an ethical motive together with an unethical act
and have it cancel itself out.
It's like pushing your friend in the river when they complain it's too hot.
What do you expect us to do?
We really have tried everything.
He thinks day and night of nothing but his book, and no other topic of conversation will
sway him.
The only other thing he talks about is what horrible disease he swears he's dying of
this week.
Maybe if he bathed more than once during that week.
I swear we've thought about other options, but the only thing that could get him to sign
off on a final copy would be the goddamn plague.
Wait!
Philip, hack up a lung.
Give it a shot, will you?
Really wet and choking.
Um...
Alright...
Coughing
Oh, there he is. Cough it all up.
That's right. Get it all up there.
Coughing
Coughing I knew it! I knew he was dying.
I'm what?
Oh, no, no, no. He's not.
Mr Sigunsky just has a little cough.
But if you're not feeling well, Mr Copernicus,
my associate would be more than happy to take a look.
And I must say, you are looking a bit...
yellow around the gills?
I'm what, yellow?
Actually, I do not think I should come any closer.
Your neck is looking larger than when I saw you earlier.
Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes, yellow.
I knew it, I knew it.
I have the plague.
Legally, I did not provide you that diagnosis.
Oh, I need to avail myself.
I'll be dead in a week for sure.
Yes, perhaps.
If you all will excuse me.
Ah, of course. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNO But, what was that all about? Gentlemen, your problems are about to be solved.
With improv?
With the plague.
Look at how quickly he left you alone
the moment he believed he was dying.
And that's just the ticket.
Yes, you don't need us to fake Copernicus' death at all.
No.
He just needs to think he's dying long enough to realize what would happen
to his life's work if it's not published before he kicks the bucket. Good old fashioned
psychological warfare. Right. But he's not actually dying. Surely he's going to notice
that. Well, I mean, has he actually been sick the last twelve times? He's taken all of the mint leaves and lemons?
There's a strong difference between sick and dying.
We need evidence.
Ah!
But that would be where I come in.
For our usual fee, I can provide you a dose of capsaicin.
Put it in his morning tea, and he will not be dying, but he will be very, very sure
he is. Works itself through the system naturally. No antidote needed.
Do I want to know what it does?
Have you ever seen a travelling fire eater, Mr. Sygonsky?
Once.
Imagine if the fire did not go out.
That sounds extraordinarily painful.
I love it.
Agreed. But what is your usual fee?
I don't know if you've noticed, but we likely can't pay it.
Yes, that's a good point.
How about this? We'll cut you gentlemen in on, uh, 20% of the world-changing book sales. How's that?
40%?
20%? Noted!
What?
You should leave these things to me.
I thought it was a rather good deal.
So, we have a deal? No takesies-backsies?
No takesies backsies? No takesies backsies. There's just
one more thing, however, that we need to decide on first. Where to send him. What do you mean?
Well, you've said yourself. After you publish Copernicus's work, he can't very well stick
around and be able to send in more edits. We need to give him a new life far, far away.
Somewhere with a dreadful postal service.
Like we said, we don't really care where you send him.
Just get him out of our hair for good and we're golden.
But here...
What is that?
This is one of our latest atlases of the known world.
Knock yourself out.
It's very detailed.
Oh, what about a remote island in the Pacific?
I've heard there are some astronomy lovers there.
And send them a man riddled with diseases
they have never heard of, much less have immunity to.
A recipe for disaster.
Right.
So how about...
Egypt! All those pyramids!
A bit of a war zone these days.
Come on, there are people less deserving of being shot.
Do you want me to find the hot water bottle?
Yes, please.
Well, aside from astronomy, what would he like?
I mean, what would be the perfect place for Copernicus to live out the, presumably, last few years of his life in imperfect semi-comfort?
I...
Deeds us.
Oh, come on!
Surely after working with the man for ten years you'd know at least a bit about him?
And with enough drinking, we won't remember any of it. Hey! What are his likes,
his dislikes, anything that could help? Um, when we first met he mentioned that he likes
dogs? Dogs? I think. Right, I meant any relevant information. I mean, do you have any contacts, colleagues?
People who could take him in and not ask questions?
Where would they keep him? A basement?
Yes, I like that idea.
And I don't. Next.
Well, I'm downright stumped.
We could just put him on a trade ship...
And then he's somebody else's problem.
Yes.
Ooh, you two really are good.
Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll drown.
Oh, Antony, you say the sweetest things.
Perhaps you could provide a note of recommendation, Dr. Stan, suggesting salt, air, and the open
sea. A capital idea. Way to think ahead, Mr. Weairn, suggesting salt, air, and the open sea.
A capital idea. Way to think ahead, Mr. Weissen.
Don't ruin it.
Wouldn't dream of it.
Alright then. Anything else?
I feel like we're forgetting something.
Oh!
Good lord, what was that?
Oh, good lord, what was that? Oh, please no.
Hi all, and, uh, actually, I didn't find any water glasses, but well, those funny-looking plates of yours weren't important, were they, with these six little divots?
He's almost gone.
Not important at all, they just survived two pogroms and a banishment from Lower Silesia and two 200 or so years of minor disturbances.
Sertaplates.
Oh, not a good look.
No. I'm not following. What does this mean?
What it means is...
What it means is...
is? Copernicus, would you care for a cup of tea? Stay tuned for the epilogue, but first the credits.
The Amelia Project is a production of Imploding Fictions. This episode featured
Alan Bergen as the interviewer, Hemi Yeroham as Kozlovsky, Josh Rubino as
Philip, Dallas Hawthorne as Anthony, Jonathan Kidd as Copernicus and Julia
Seathorn as Alvina. The episode was written by Newton Shuttelkotte with
story editing and direction by Aislin Braga and Philip Thorn,
sound design by Beth Crane and Headley Knights, music by Frederick Barden, production assistance
by Marty Parzival and graphic design by Anders Pedersen. We could not do this without our faithful
Patreon supporters. Thank you to all of you who are supporting the show and a shout out to our
super patrons that's Celeste, Joe's, Heat Fiddick Albina Sant Amelie and Allison
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Thank you to all of you. For more info on the show and how to support us and how to access bonus content go to AmeliaPodcast.com and now the epilogue.
And that was the end of our run-in with Copernicus.
What an annoying man.
This doesn't make sense.
What doesn't?
I assure you I have not exaggerated.
Maybe apart from the description of his beard, it might have been less unkempt than I made
it out to be.
No, not that.
Look up.
What am I looking at?
The moon.
What about it?
It started over.
Sorry?
Look.
Yes?
That's where it was when we arrived.
And it's still there now?
No, no, it moved.
It moves, the moon moves, right?
It certainly does. When we arrived, it moved. It moves, the moon moves, right?
It certainly does.
When we arrived, it was where it is now.
Then a bit later, it went over that way.
But now it's back over there again.
Are you sure we haven't just turned around?
Maybe you sat on the opposite side of the campfire
when we came back from the cave.
This makes absolutely no sense.
Where are you going? I have to look from the cave. This makes absolutely no sense. Where are you going?
I have to look at the stars. I can't see them.
The campfire's too bright.
You're going to check if the stars have gone haywire too?
Yep.
I assure you, it's just a matter of perspective.
No, it's a question of time.
At any given point, the stars and the moon
are supposed to be in a certain place.
And you know where they're meant to be?
Sort of. And it's not where they are now.
The stars are in the wrong place?
I'm pretty sure.
And how do you explain that?
I don't know. Maybe we're in a planetarium?
We just went for a car ride,
fetched firewood in the forest and waded out to a cave in the ocean.
I doubt we're inside.
Maybe I'm dreaming? Or hallucinating?
Lack of sleep can cause hallucinations.
Look, do you see it too? Pisces, Mars?
It's like they haven't moved since we arrived, or they've moved back.
And what do you make of that, Mia Fox?
I don't know. Time is out of whack.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha!
We should stop thinking of time as a rigid thing that only goes in one direction.
It is less of a river and more of a landscaped car park
with a Minoan temple and a petting zoo.
Sorry?
Still can't see all the stars.
Let's move a little bit further down.
Ugh.
Well, it's good to stretch our legs, I suppose.
They're quite far off. I think we can risk getting up.
Oh yes please.
Oh my god.
Laying down for so long is killing me.
What was that? Time is out of whack?
Until he was out of whack, Mia, you are.
Yeah, they're losing it.
It's late. The stars have just made the full circle.
Don't they use 24 hours to do a full circle?
We should have had Copernicus here.
What time is it, actually?
It's, let's see, 2..44 on Sunday the 6th of March.
No, that can't be right. Why? Let me check on my phone. No, it's 4.52 on Tuesday the 4th of November.
November? Yes! It's not November. It is. It's March.
It's absolutely not March.
Er, check the other phone.
Which phone?
The secretary's phone.
The Venus phone.
But it's dead.
Yeah, but it might turn on for a second.
That's all you need.
No.
Okay.
Okay.
Come on.
Turn on.
No, it's dead.
Wait.
Wait. It's come on. Turn on.
No, it's dead.
Wait! Wait! It's turned on.
And?
Apparently it's 3.59 on Friday the 11th of December.
And it's dead again.
December?
Yeah.
Oh. I haven't bought any Christmas presents.
There must be something about this place.
Like, you know, magnetic interference, metal in the ground.
Something that makes phones go bananas.
Absolutely, that must be it.
Listen, it must be, March.
Why?
Because when we went for drinks with me and Jackie, that was post-February, wasn't it?
There were Valentine's hearts everywhere and...
No, it wasn't. No. There were leftover Halloween decorations all over the pub.
How long was it we kept Kostovsky in the holding cell?
Long enough for the paperwork to go through.
Yeah, so...
Days? Weeks?
I mean, it was months.
I don't... think so.
It all seemed so long ago.
Have you ever forgotten left and right?
Sorry?
Like, suddenly one day you look down at your hands and you just... you just don't know.
I mean, you used to know.
It used to be, like, really obvious, but for some reason it's just stopped making sense.
No.
No, I've never had that.
But I have had that experience where you wake up in the middle of the night and you don't
know where you are, you know?
And I don't mean the first night in a new place like a hotel.
I mean when you wake up in your own bed but you have no concept of space or place and
you just feel lost in the world.
I even had that when awake once.
I was a student.
I hadn't eaten properly for weeks, lived off canned
beans and chips, was probably malnourished. Then one day I was sitting in the canteen
at the academy and I suddenly didn't know what was outside the walls. We could have
been in space for all I knew. My dad came to visit later that day and took me out for
dinner. Had a massive steak and felt better.
Hm.
Were you on drugs?
I wasn't on drugs.
All right.
I blame the surgeon.
Me too.
Bloody surgeon. The Fable and Falling Network, where fiction producers flourish.
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