Glasshouse

Screenplay draft

Title: Glasshouse
Credit: Written by
Author: Anonymous
Draft date: 13 April 2026

FADE IN.

INT. GLASSHOUSE HYDROPONIC DOME - NIGHT

Sodium lamps buzz. MIRA VOSS, 41, stands between long aluminum tables. Her thermal suit is patched at the elbows. She moves methodically, clipping brown leaves into a stainless tray.

She pauses at tray three. The seedlings have shifted overnight. Tiny stems form the word HELLO in uneven capitals.

Mira stares. She checks the irrigation timer, then the external vent seals. Nothing.

She pulls a scalpel from her belt and scrapes the soil flat, destroying the letters. She reseeds the tray with fresh stock, hands steady.

Outside the curved glass, wind drives ice crystals in horizontal lines. Mira does not look up.

She speaks into a small recorder clipped to her collar.

MIRA
Growth rate stable. No anomalies noted.

INT. GLASSHOUSE HYDROPONIC DOME - DAWN

Mira bolts the single chair to the floor and sits with a ration packet. She activates the recorder again.

MIRA
They only grow when I stop naming them. The ones I label die first.

She sets the recorder down and watches the new seedlings. They stand straight, silent.

EXT. RIDGE CAMP - DAY

Wind scours a low orange tent half-buried in snow. Boot prints lead away in two directions at once. A single antenna mast sways.

INT. GLASSHOUSE HYDROPONIC DOME - DAY

Mira checks power gauges. One working radio channel crackles. She tunes it.

DR. PETRA LANG (V.O.)
(filtered, delayed)
Mira. Mainland reports total blackout north of sixty. You are still green on telemetry. Confirm.

MIRA
(into mic)
Confirmed. Rationing holding. Over.

The channel dies into static.

INT. GLASSHOUSE HYDROPONIC DOME - NIGHT

Mira walks the rows under sodium light. She stops. Across three trays the seedlings now spell HELLO again, sharper, uniform.

She stares for a long time. Wind howls against the polycarbonate.

INT. GLASSHOUSE HYDROPONIC DOME - LATER

Mira weighs a bag of fresh seed against the scalpel in her hand. She sets both down.

MIRA
(to recorder)
Either choice voids the contract. I remain silent.

She reseeds nothing.

INT. GLASSHOUSE HYDROPONIC DOME - DAWN

Mira returns. The trays are blank. She exhales.

She takes the scalpel and carves her own name into the soil of tray three: MIRA.

INT. GLASSHOUSE HYDROPONIC DOME - DAY

Power fluctuates. Lights dim then surge. Mira tightens a loose tray fitting.

An external speaker crackles to life.

JONAS HALE (V.O.)
(filtered)
Eight months. I have watched the ridge and the trays.

Mira freezes.

JONAS HALE (V.O.)
I am not the signal. The signal is under the ice.

She does not answer.

INT. GLASSHOUSE HYDROPONIC DOME - NIGHT

Seedlings rearrange. Single words appear: SAFE. Then: RIDGE.

Mira answers by shifting stems in tray one: WHO.

Next dawn the reply reads: JONAS.

INT. GLASSHOUSE CORRIDOR - NIGHT

SAMI RUIZ, mid 30s, stocky, grease-stained, kneels at a junction box.

SAMI
The fluctuation pattern repeats every four hours? It is not random.

Mira watches him work.

MIRA
Keep the beacons lit.

SAMI
Already done?

He wipes his hands and leaves.

INT. GLASSHOUSE HYDROPONIC DOME - DAY

Jonas appears on the external cameras, suited, carrying one case. He stands at the airlock.

Mira studies the monitors. Fresh tracks lead away from the ridge camp toward the station.

JONAS HALE (V.O.)
(filtered)
Voss. Let me in before the whiteout takes the case.

Mira stares at the trays. They spell: LEAVE HIM OUT.

She overrides the lock.

INT. AIRLOCK - MOMENTS LATER

Jonas enters. He refuses to remove his helmet. Mira keeps distance.

JONAS
The plants read the electromagnetic pulse beneath the ice. Coordinates match the old drilling site.

Mira checks the trays. They now read: SAFE NOW.

Through the glass she sees new tracks leading back toward the ridge.

INT. OBSERVATION BLISTER - NIGHT

Jonas sits on the metal stool, helmet still on. Mira stands in the doorway.

JONAS
Open the lower hatch. The source is there.

MIRA
No.

Jonas opens his case. Inside, dead cuttings from the same strain are already arranged into the letters of Mira’s name.

INT. GLASSHOUSE HYDROPONIC DOME - NIGHT

Sami works the lower hatch wheel. The power cuts. Red emergency strips flicker.

A wet snap echoes from below. Sami does not return.

INT. GLASSHOUSE HYDROPONIC DOME - DAWN

All trays are brown. The seedlings have died overnight.

Jonas removes his helmet in the blister. His eyes are milky, opaque from frost.

INT. GLASSHOUSE HYDROPONIC DOME - NIGHT

Mira sits alone in the dark dome. She whispers to the empty trays.

MIRA
I named you. That is why you answered.

INT. GLASSHOUSE HYDROPONIC DOME - LATER

Mira floods every tray with salt water from the emergency stores. She seals one living sprout inside a glove.

She pulls on the emergency suit.

INT. OBSERVATION BLISTER - NIGHT

Jonas stands at the glass, eyes blank. Mira seals the blister door from outside. The lock engages.

JONAS
(muffled)
You cannot carry it alone.

Mira walks into the whiteout carrying the gloved sprout.

EXT. ICE CAP - CONTINUOUS

Wind erases her tracks instantly. She keeps walking.

INT. OBSERVATION BLISTER - SAME TIME

Jonas presses his face to the interior glass. The single green leaf inside the glove is pressed against the exterior pane from Mira’s side. No letters are visible.

Only bone-white frost and sodium shadow remain.

FADE OUT.