Episode 1 – “The Story I Grew Up With”

[MUSIC PLAYING] You're listening to Case 63, a Spotify audio series. [MUSIC PLAYING] [DOOR OPENS] [DOOR OPENS] Hello? Hello? You've been informed I will be recording these sessions? Yes. Yes, I signed the papers. OK, then. First session, time 10, 30 AM, October 22, 2022, Case 63 for the record. How would you like to be addressed? Good morning. Good morning. Could you tell me how you'd like to be addressed? By my name, or by Case 63, which is what I see written there. I don't really care. State your name in age, please. My name is Peter. Peter Reuter. I'm 39 years old. I'm where are you from? I'm from Essex, which is just outside of London. And can you tell me again what year you come from? Yeah, I come from the year 2062. That's in the future. For you, it is, yes. OK. You come from the future. Do you have any proof? I don't have any proof, Dr. Knight. Knight. I'm sorry. Do you really expect me to believe such an unusual statement without a single shred of evidence? Well, I'm not really interested in whether you believe me or not. No offense. That's not my goal. At least it's not my main goal. But you agree with me that it's a very unusual claim? Yeah, but you're used to that, aren't you? Can't imagine I'm the first person to come into this room babbling nonsense. No, sadly, I'm-- yeah, I don't think I'm your first. Or am I? Excuse me? Your first hilarious patient. So don't mind me. Just write in your notebook that I have some mental disorder that I'm dealing with a psychotic break and that way we'll both be happy. How's that sound? Are you aware that you're having a mental breakdown? Well, you decide that. I don't. You've already decided what my diagnosis is. You made up your mind about that hours ago. All this, the tape recorder, this conversation, this show you've created that seems scientific. We both know you play this game to follow protocol and make a diagnosis, but a number on me and fill out that form so that you can sleep soundly at night. No, no, no, I'm not interested in playing that game, Doctor. You're not the important one here. No offense. I know who is. Who's what? The important one here. It's clear it's not me. You don't care about that. Not yet, anyway. Marie Baker, who is she? You mentioned that name when you were brought in and you repeated it while under the effects of a sedative. Marie Baker. Is she your mother? Your wife? No, no, she's not related to me. I don't even know her. God, personally. Is she the one you're trying to convince? How do you plan on convincing this person if you don't know her? How are you going to get her to believe that you're a time traveler? I'm not expecting her to believe me. That'll only push her away and I can't let her get away. So the two of you are going to have a son together, which means you'll have to protect her from an evil, murderous robot sent back to kill her. I've seen that movie a million times. No, I wish it were that simple. I need to stop her from doing something. From doing what? I need to stop her from getting on a plane. Why? It's too complicated to explain. Try me. You and I still don't trust each other. Dr., we don't have that kind of relationship yet. A patient therapist type of relationship. Have you been hospitalized before? No. Have you taken any medication? No. Have you seen therapists or psychiatrists before? Have you received psychiatric diagnosis? No, no, no. Have you experienced any trauma or serious accident? No, no. In which you were responsible. Have you ever lost consciousness? No, no. God damn you. Sit down. Sit down, please. You're an idiot. You're in a medium security unit and haven't been psychiatric center. State run hospital. We're not in the habit of letting you down. I cannot let you go. Please remain calm. I don't want to call-- Let me go. I will have to call for help if you don't sit down. OK. Please, OK. Please. Please sit down. Thank you. Would you like a glass of water? Brother, I have a cigarette. I'm sure you would. Here. Thank you. Now, could you please tell me your address? Where did you sleep last night? In a boarding lounge at a classified location in January, 2062. And do you have any form of ID? Do I have a license, passport? We don't use those. Our DNA is much more effective than a piece of plastic, or a number, or a chip. OK. So if you come from the future, could you tell me tomorrow's winning lottery numbers, or who's going to win the World Series next to you? Imagine that you travel back to our home in the year 100. Could you tell me who will win the big disk destroying tournament? Or the day the trust-cona-navi-wul-in-vade or the next time the timer will flood? Well, yes. If you gave me some time, I could look up the information online. And I would be prepared to give in to someone that I come from the future. It doesn't work like that in the future. It's not exact. There's no data. You don't have Google in the future. In the future, we don't have anything. At least not since October 23rd, 2053. We don't have anything. That's what I'm trying to tell you. No. I'm sorry, but I'm just not convinced. I told you already. That isn't my goal. But you need me to believe you. Not now. Not at this moment. You would know better than me, right? What I do know is that you can't be a time traveler. OK. Why not? You said that you came from the year 2062 and that you're 39 years old. That means that you were born in 2023, so your parents are alive now. I can take my cell phone and Google them. Or I can ask you to spit inside a test tube or take a swab test and run your DNA, and it should match with your mother's. Even though I don't have an exact location, maybe you could remember the city you were born in, or I don't know the street. 14 Eastern Esplanade South and on C-SX United Kingdom. Of course I remember the city I was born in. But that'll be in two years. My parents don't know each other yet. OK. So just to follow your train of thought, I could call them now and tell them that they're having a son who in 39 years will travel to the past to save the world. Yes. Save the world. But if I contacted your parents, that would alter the future in some way or that. It wouldn't get to know each other, and it would be born. We wouldn't be having this conversation. Correct. I've seen four weeks, not sure of the exact date, but precisely because of the fact that you will believe me, you will contact my parents. And this story of an American psychiatrist who called my parents talking about their time traveling some who hasn't been born will seem so funny that my dad will go looking for my mom. They'll go out for some beers, and they'll start to date. They'll become boyfriend and girlfriend, and I'll be born. All thanks to you, doctor. I'll grow up listening to this story, the story of the American psychiatrist who brought my parents together. Do you want proof that I'm a time traveler? You're the first piece of evidence. And even though you might not understand it, you are proof Beatrix. How do you know that name? Eliza Beatrix Knight. Nobody calls me that. Have you been going through my stuff? Who are you? Tell me. Tell me. Who are you? Tell me who you are. Case 63, created and written by Julio Rojas, adapted by Maravela Melendez, directed by Mimio Donald, starring Julian Moore and Oscar Isaac, executive produced by Julian Moore, Oscar Isaac, and Mimio Donald, produced by Katie Pastor. Sound Design and Mixed by Armando Serrano and Daniel Brunel, score by Moat.