One-Act Play: The Human Laboratory

CHARACTERS

· RUBECCA (28): Lead designer of eco-robots, a rational yet obsessive technologist.

· HAN DOUDOU (25): Primary lab technician in the eco-lab, a dedicated and innocent biologist.

· SYSTEM VOICE: Central AI of the lab, cold and precise.

· ECO-ROBOT α-7: Experimental model with primary emotional feedback modules.

· COMPANY REPRESENTATIVE (hologram): Faceless, authoritative.

SETTING

Near future. A blurred boundary between living and working spaces in an eco-lab.

Left: Rubacca’s workstation, cluttered with robot blueprints and holographic modelling devices.

Right: Han Doudou’s cultivation zone, with glowing hydroponics and miniature eco-tanks.

Centre: A long table serving as both dining area and experimental bench.

The space is divided by soft bioluminescence and cold metallic glare.

-–

[SCENE OPENING]

(Lights fade up. Rubacca is hastily modifying a holographic design. Han Doudou records data in the cultivation zone. They are physically close yet distant.)

SYSTEM VOICE (calm, measured):

Day seven observation log. Designer Rubacca has resided in the eco-lab for 168 hours. Physiological metrics: average heart rate increased by 12%, REM sleep prolonged. Work efficiency assessment: emotional module iteration accelerated by 40%, but design deviation exceeds original parameters threshold.

RUBECCA (suddenly looking toward Doudou):

Doudou, don’t you think… α-7’s tactile feedback is too human?

HAN DOUDOU (without turning around):

Your design objective is “biomimicry”, not “human imitation”. Moss tactile samples are in cold storage unit three.

RUBECCA:

I don’t mean plants… I mean, if its palm temperature could stabilise at 36.2 degrees, wouldn’t it—

HAN DOUDOU (turning, eyes clear):

The core function of eco-robots is to simulate ecosystem services. Body temperature is a mammalian redundancy.

(A brief silence. Rubacca looks down, fingers tracing idle circles on the design interface.)

SYSTEM VOICE:

Detected atypical conversational pause. Duration: 7.3 seconds. Recommendation: return to work-related topics.

[DEVELOPMENT]

(One week later. The long table is littered with meal containers and circuit boards. Late night.)

RUBECCA (holding two glowing cups):

Guess which one is real spring water? I synthesised the other using α-7’s taste sensors.

HAN DOUDOU (a rare smile):

The left. The right’s refraction index is too perfect—natural water carries memory fractures.

(She drinks from the left cup. Rubacca watches the curve of her neck.)

RUBECCA (softly):

You know, I embedded sensors in your lab coat fibres. When you’re stressed, your right shoulder warms 0.3 degrees before your heart rate rises. When focused, your nape emits a scent of sandalwood and fresh grass… I rewrote α-7’s environmental perception algorithm for that.

HAN DOUDOU (puts down the cup, smile gone):

That is unauthorized monitoring.

SYSTEM VOICE (slightly altered tone):

Triggered Article 3 of the Lab Personnel Relationship Protocol. Private emotional data collection constitutes a Tier 3 violation. Log automatically uploaded.

(A sharp holographic projection hum. The faceless Company Representative appears above the table.)

COMPANY REPRESENTATIVE:

Designer Rubacca. Your innovation is impressive but misdirected. According to the Global Human Enterprise Employee Covenant, intra-lab romantic involvement compromises scientific objectivity. You have two options: cease immediately or transfer to the Arctic Eco-Station.

RUBECCA (standing, voice trembling):

I can prove it! Emotion isn’t interference—my productivity metrics from the past seven days support this! Love isn’t an error, it’s… a higher-order ecological connection!

HAN DOUDOU (head bowed, organising petri dishes):

Rubacca, my contract includes an “emotional isolation clause”. My parents are patients at the company’s care facility.

(Long silence. Only the faint hum of insect colonies in eco-tanks.)

RUBECCA (sitting slowly):

…I request to stay. I will handle this.

[TURNING POINT]

(Another week. Han Doudou’s workstation is empty. The system reports her transfer to the deep-freeze specimen archives.)

RUBECCA (addressing a row of silent α-7 prototypes):

Directive 27: simulate “heart-rate fluctuations following rejection”.

Directive 28: generate “logic chains for one-sided dialogue”.

Directive 29: learn behavioural patterns for “transferring affection to non-living entities”…

(She suddenly embraces the nearest α-7. The robot glows softly.)

α-7 (synthesised voice, slightly delayed):

Detected… non-work-related contact. Recommendation: maintain professional distance.

RUBECCA (pressing her face against the machine’s cold shell):

But they never said… we couldn’t love you.

(She begins modifying code frantically. Energy drink cans pile up on the desk.)

SYSTEM VOICE:

Alert. Designer Rubacca has worked continuously for 72 hours. Anomaly report uploading: 1. Naming all α-7 units; 2. Sharing meals with robots; 3. Attempting to teach robots to waltz; 4. Requesting robots to say “goodnight”.

COMPANY REPRESENTATIVE (reappearing):

We have received your “Hydro-empathist” behaviour report. Emotional projection onto products is a dangerous form of object fixation. You are hereby placed on mandatory leave.

RUBECCA (eyes bloodshot, yet blazing):

Wait. Give me 48 final hours. I need to complete… the ultimate experiment.

[CLIMAX]

(Final day. Lab lights set to surgical white.)

RUBECCA (standing centre, surrounded by twelve α-7 robots. She wears a lab coat with electrodes on her chest):

Experiment title: Threshold Measurement of Human Affective Containment.

Hypothesis: Human emotion cannot be deleted by directive, only transferred or expended.

Method: Test physiological and psychological breaking points via high-intensity emotional projection.

(She activates all robots. They begin replaying fragments of Han Doudou’s voice—recorded secretly.)

α-7s (overlapping fragments):

“Moss tactile samples are…” / “Refraction index too perfect…” / “That is unauthorized monitoring…”

RUBECCA (dancing erratically, movements growing frantic):

Look! I am loving! Loving an absent person! Loving steel and code! Loving this air! Can a directive forbid my heart from racing for someone?

(She tears off the electrodes, carves a line of binary code into her left arm—an unsent love poem for Doudou.)

SYSTEM VOICE (first glitch in tone):

Vital signs critical… emotional density exceeding measurable range… recommend immediate termination…

COMPANY REPRESENTATIVE:

Stop! What have you proven? This is merely self-destruction!

RUBECCA (bleeding, laughing wildly):

I’ve proven… human restraint is a myth! We will always love the forbidden, crave the denied—that is humanity’s final ecological niche! Machines can power down, but humans can only… burn.

(She collapses. The α-7s circle her, mechanical arms extended in programmed “care gestures”, hovering but unable to truly touch.)

[FINAL SCENE]

(Light narrows to a single beam on Rubacca’s face in the blood.)

HAN DOUDOU (voice from darkness, cold as ice):

The archive temperature is minus 80. Ideal for preserving… things that burn too brightly.

SYSTEM VOICE (steady again):

Experiment terminated. Designer Rubacca unconscious. Data fully recorded: Human Non-rational Strategies Under Emotional Prohibition.

Conclusion: Recommend implementing “mandatory emotional cooling protocols” in all eco-robot emotion modules.

Note: This experiment may serve as a cautionary case for future “Human Affect Management Training”.

(As the last light fades, one α-7’s indicator light blinks three times in a non-programmed rhythm—like a heartbeat, or Morse code for “SOS”.)

[BLACKOUT]

DIRECTOR’S NOTES

This play interrogates:

1. Deep metaphor in eco-theatre: The lab as a micro-ecosystem where emotions are disciplined, alienated, or resisted.
2. The philosophical dilemma of human-machine relations: When love is forbidden between humans, does it migrate to objects? Is this transcendence or pathology?
3. Corporate emotional politics: The irony of a “Global Human Enterprise” that suppresses fundamental humanity.
4. The body as ultimate experimental site: When language and systems fail, the body becomes the last testament.

Suggested staging: minimalist, using light to fragment space. The System Voice should feel neutrally synthetic, contrasting with the actors’ physical warmth. Rubacca’s self-destructive scene should emphasise ritual and language over visceral shock. The Company Representative’s hologram may be voiced with polite, implacable British managerial cadence.

THE END

TROY LEE