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turning to page one
turning to page one
It’s dark inside...
JOAN CLARKE
(whispering)
Could you have made a bit more
noise, Alan? Not sure you woke up
my landlady.
ALAN TURING
Sorry.
Joan turns on a SMALL LAMP and then lights some CANDLES.
JOAN CLARKE
The best I can do. No male visitors
after dark.
She watches Alan remove papers from his pockets.
JOAN CLARKE (CONT’D)
What’d you bring me?
Alan produces the Enigma messages from every available hiding place on his person.
JOAN CLARKE (CONT’D)
... Some men try flowers, you know.
ALAN TURING
(pulling papers from inside his shirt)
These are actual decrypted Enigma
messages, direct from Nazi high
command.
JOAN CLARKE
Or chocolates. Girls like
chocolate.
Alan starts PLACING THE MESSAGES down on a table, but there isn’t room, so he starts LAYING THEM OUT ON THE FLOOR.
JOAN CLARKE (CONT’D)
(reading a message)
“0600 hours. Weather today is
clear. Rain in the evening. Heil
Hitler.” Well, clearly that vital
information is going to win us the
war.
ALAN TURING
It’s the relationship between the
encrypted and decrypted messages
that interests me. Is there a clue
there that we can build into
Christopher?
JOAN CLARKE
Who’s “Christopher”?
ALAN TURING
Oh. He’s my machine.
JOAN CLARKE
You named him?
ALAN TURING
JOAN CLARKE
Nevermind...
(looks over the messages)
Are you trying to build your
Universal Machine?
Alan looks at her: How do you know what that is?
Joan smiles.
JOAN CLARKE (CONT’D)
I read your paper at university.
ALAN TURING
They’re teaching it already?
JOAN CLARKE
Oh God no, but I was precocious.
You theorized a machine that can
solve any problem. It doesn’t just
do one thing: It does everything.
The machine isn’t only
programmable, it’s re-programmable.
ON ALAN: She understands what he’s been writing about.
JOAN CLARKE (CONT’D)
Is that part of the idea behind
your Christopher?
ALAN TURING
Human beings can compute large sums
very quickly. Even Hugh can do
that. I want Christopher to be...
Smarter. To make a calculation, and
then to determine what to do next.
Like a person does. Think of it: An
electrical brain. A digital
computer.
JOAN CLARKE
(trying out the words on her tongue)
A “digital computer?” Hmm.
ALAN TURING
I’ll show you —
— Alan TURNS, and KNOCKS OVER THE CANDLE...
... Which LIGHTS THE ENIGMA MESSAGES ON FIRE.
Alan and Joan SCRAMBLE TO PUT OUT THE FIRE.
They make a lot of NOISE in the process, though they do manage not to burn down Joan’s flat.
ALAN TURING (CONT’D)
I’m so sorry.
They hear more noise from downstairs: “Joan?!? HELLO?!?”
JOAN CLARKE
My landlady. You need to leave.
ALAN TURING
Right.
Alan moves to the front door —
JOAN CLARKE
— No. The window. She’s coming.
ALAN TURING
(staring at window)
Really?
JOAN CLARKE
Go.
Alan AWKWARDLY CLIMBS OUT THE WINDOW, TRYING NOT TO FALL...
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