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The three worlds of mind, matter and spirit merge into one as fiction is intertwined with reality.
SC1. EXT. TEMPORAL RESEARCH CO-OP - DAY - YALE TOWN - VANCOUVER - 5080 [THE INITIALS ‘TRC’ GRACE THE FRONT OF A HIGH RISE. A BLACK ANTI-GRAV VEHICLE LANDS AT THE CURB. WE SEE A PAIR OF BLACK BOOTS. WE SEE RCN CAPTAIN MYRA BAINBRIDGE. MID FORTIES, MYRA‘S RCN OVERCOAT IS BLACK INSTEAD OF CONTEMPORARY RIFLE GREEN. DEPUTY PREMIERE PAUL MATHESON STEPS OUT OF THE VEHICLE.] CAPTAIN MYRA BAINBRIDGE “Deputy Premiere Paul Matheson; I’m a very busy woman. I have nothing to hide, so don’t make my day any worse.” D.P. PAUL MATHESON “Would you be referring to the privy council’s acknowledgement that inhumane methods were utilized by our U.K. compatriots?” CAPTAIN MYRA BAINBRIDGE “That is exactly what I’m referring to deputy premiere. Our lab’s results were derived directly from the information we were given from Llandaff RAF. Had I known, I’d have gone in another direction. Am I to be held liable for war crimes I had no knowledge of?” D.P. PAUL MATHESON “I wouldn’t worry about it captain. Canada had no involvement In the U.K. skirmishes. That does not mean we supported what was done to Garconer citizens. We gave covert support to Welsh troops via CSIS, as well as financial help to Garconer seeking resettlement. Diplomatic relations with White Hall under the former leadership until two years ago was a tinder Box ready to blow at any provocation. The conflict is over, its time to let bygones be bygones.” CAPTAIN MYRA BAINBRIDGE “If I’m reading the situation correctly, the conflict is over, merely because the lab monkeys in Llandaff have found what they were looking for. All those people died for a false flag operation against the true enemies, the Divisionists and the Black Brigade.” D.P. PAUL MATHESON “Its all shades of grey Myra. They didn’t die for nothing, the entire time line is reliant on having the ability to keep the Black Brigade in line. Three millennia ago, we were dealing with Human terrorists who’d blow themselves up, taking hundreds with them. Now we’ve got beings with the ability to change the course of history by travelling back to assassinate people who weren’t meant to die at that point. Unlock the terrorists of old, these beings can sacrifice themselves and pop back into existence once their target is dead.” CAPTAIN MYRA BAINBRIDGE “What do you need me to do?” D.P. PAUL MATHESON “Keep doing what you’re best at, research and development.” CAPTAIN MYRA BAINBRIDGE “Yes sir.” CUT TO: - SC2. EXT. IRISH SKIES PRODUCTION LOT- DAY - 2O14 [COLE JACOB BILLINGTON, STAFF WRITER ON CARDIFF BASED ’IRISH SKIES’ AND CREATOR OF ‘THE GHOST WARS’ BOOK SERIES IS SAT AT A PICNIC TABLE PARALLEL TO THE CRAFT SERVICES CARAVAN. COLE HAS HIS LAPTOP OPEN TO THE WORD PROCESSOR SHOWING A HALF WRITTEN NOVEL PAGE. WE SEE THE SCREEN. THE WORDS ‘WITH A FLICK OF HER HAIR, MYRA ENTERED THE BUILDING WHERE SO MANY SECRETS WERE KEPT.’ APPEAR ON SCREEN AS COLE TYPES THEM. THREE WOMEN WEARING EARLY NINETEEN FORTIES PERIOD DRESS ARE STOOD IN A GROUP TO COLE’S RIGHT. BRITTANY LONGFELLOW, A SQUAMISH FIRST NATIONS WOMAN, LATE TWENTIES; IS STOOD A FEW FEET AWAY. BRITTANY SPINS A BATON. JASON BOWEN, 6’2, SCOTTISH, LATE TWENTIES IS SAT ON A RAISED WOODEN BENCH. JASON WATCHES BRITTANY SPIN THE BATON. SERA RASMUSSEN, JAPANESE, EARLY THIRTIES, PRODUCTION STUNT DOUBLE WALKS PAST.] SERA RASMUSSEN “Hey Cole, Cecil’s taking the train from London this morning, eh? I bet you‘ll be enjoying a romantic night out.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “He’s my sweetie, never be anyone like him. He’s one of a kind.” SERA RASMUSSEN “Got to go, I’m on set in five minutes.” [SERA RUNS OFF TO COLE’S LEFT. BEHIND COLE, STAFF MEDIC, DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION, MID FIFTIES; IS KNELT ON THE GRASS. BAILEY BANDAGES THE INJURED LEFT WRIST OF LOCATION MANAGER GERALD RASMUSSEN. RUSSIAN, MID THIRTIES, GERALD IS SERA’S HUSBAND. REGINALD DESMOIRE, IRISH SKIES HEAD WRITER WALKS PAST WITH A SCRIPT. REGINALD IS MUSQUEAM FIRST NATIONS, MID FIFTIES.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Write anything interesting, Reg?” REGINALD DESMOIRE “I certainly hope so.” CUT TO: - SC3. EXT. COAL HARBOUR SEAWALL - DAY - VANCOUVER - 5080 [COLE WALKS HAND IN HAND WITH HORATIO DOMINI, HOLO STAR BILLIONAIRE. IN FRONT OF COLE AND HORATIO WALKS LIZ CARNEGIE.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON (V.O.) “The year Fifty, fifty five was when it all changed for the worse. A single man can start a spark creating a fire storm of Human hate and the xenocide of an entire species. I know folks, I’ve seen it first hand. It only takes a few choice words, backed with the fervour of righteous indignation; back that up with a charismatic leader and you have a perfect storm of death and destruction. We all think we can change the world; very few of us can.” [A BLACK INTERSTELLAR CRUISER COMES IN OVER BURRARD INLET. THE CRUISER MAKES LANDFALL ATOP THE WATERFRONT STATION SPACEPORT. COLE, HORATIO AND LIZ CONTINUE WALKING] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON (V.O.) “Until the year fifty, fifty five; life was relatively peaceful among the four species governing the Galactic Alliance. As lawmakers of the galaxy, the Alliance met on a bi monthly basis in the senate house in London, as well as the senate houses of Incuba Five, a planet halfway across the galaxy. The Human home world kept an alliance with the Garconer, Incubi and Stornaway civilizations for the past two millennium; these four massive civilizations forming a galaxy spanning empire not to be trifled with. The Stornaway brought us amazing advances in stem cell technology and cyber joint regrowth development; solving our skyrocketing cost of caring for the physically disabled nearly overnight. The era of wheelchair confinement for an entirety of a lifetime is long past; due to the intellectual knowledge of the Stornaway. The Incubi brought us guidance on creating true equality between the sexes, and the release of our long held religious based sexual repression. My people, the Garconer; brought Humanity peace, but they held onto their resentment over things we couldn‘t share with them- our life spans of half a millennia and our minds rivalling the greatest of Humanity’s scientists.” [LIZ STOPS BEFORE A FISH AND CHIP CARAVAN IN FRONT OF THE WATERFRONT.] CUT TO: - SC4. EXT. CLUB - NIGHT - SOHO - LONDON - 5055 [A GARCONER MAN EXITS THE CLUB, SKIN DARK GREY.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON (V.O.) “Everything changed with Sir Albert Henrickson, the man uniting disaffected Human men throughout the galaxy. Taking their rage at life’s disappointments, honing it into a sword of hate, pointing it at the Garconer men around them healthier, happier and brighter then they; seeking to battle the dragon that stole their life. Within a decade’s time, these men had their revenge.” [PASSING AN ALLEY, THE GARCONER IS JUMPED BY THREE HUMAN MEN. MAN ONE GRABS THE GARCONER BY HIS COAT. MAN TWO KNOCKS THE GARCONER TO THE GROUND.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON (V.O.) “Fired from our jobs, forced to go on the Dole; we were refused bank loans and admission into university. Pretty soon, our men began to drink to dull the pain, our women resorted to prostitution to feed their children. Relegated to the East End of London, we fell prey to society‘s scum. Gangs of vengeful Garconer boys began terrorizing the streets.” [ALL THREE HUMAN MEN PROCEED TO KICK THE GARCONER OVER AND OVER AGAIN.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON (V.O.) “Now we really were a problem. Our boys went from having reputations of decent young men with bright futures ahead of them, top of their class, first hired and most desirable as partners, to lowest of the low. Now we were viewed as nothing more than thugs, scum and rapists. We were nothing; for one such as I, one parent Human, we were abominations. We were ghosts, caught between worlds, we were nothing.” [THE GARCONER IS ON THE PAVEMENT ON HIS STOMACH, GASPING FOR BREATH. THE THREE ASSAILANTS RUN OFF AS WE HEAR POLICE SIRENS.] CUT TO: - SC5. EXT. BILLINGTON RESIDENCE - DAY - SEASIDE VILLAGE - GARCONER COLONY - 5075 [WE SEE A MIDDLE CLASS NEIGHBOURHOOD OF SINGLE FAMILY HOMES. THERE’S PANDEMONIUM IN THE STREET; HUMAN AND GARCONER PARENTS GRAB CHILDREN, PULLING THEM TO SAFETY. SHUTTLE PODS CARRYING SQUADS OF EARTH FORCE SOLDIERS FLY OVERHEAD.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON (V.O.) “I was five years old when the war first reached Garconer Colony. We were so far from Earth, we should have been safe; we weren’t. We were happy, a tiny planet of blended families of Human and Garconer.” [A SOLDIER IN THE STREET STABS A GARCONER MAN, COLE’S FATHER; IN THE THROAT.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON (V.O.) “My mother was Human, my father Garconer. He could have lived five hundred years; instead he was cut down in his prime, throat slit by Human raiders.” [A SECOND SOLDIER STABS A HISPANIC MAN IN THE THROAT. THE HISPANIC MAN HAS GREY FACIAL FRECKLING. BOTH VICTIMS COLLAPSE TO THE STREET.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON (V.O.) “My brother had a different father, but the five of us were all one big happy family, until that day in fifty, seventy five. I was fifteen years old, both fathers murdered in front of me. My younger brother was taken to Earth, re-educated, and taught to despise his own kin.” [MOTHER BILLINGTON; EARLY FORTIES, PULLS COLE AND 12 YEAR OLD KYLE TO HER SIDE. COLE STARES AT HIS FATHER’S DEAD BODY. WE SEE COLE’S EYES. IN COLE’S EYES WE SEE THE REFLECTION OF COLE SAT ON A ROCK ON A BEACH. IN FRONT OF COLE IN THE REFLECTION IS STOOD A SECOND COLE; ADORNED IN THE UNIFORM OF A FALLEN GOD BOMBER; BLACK T-SHIRT WITH BLACK TROUSERS. TO THIS SECOND COLE’S LEFT A BLACK, FORMLESS SHAPE WHISPERS IN COLE’S EAR.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON (V.O.) “I became a different boy that day, everything good was tossed aside and thrown onto the scrap heap. Pretty soon, I was the one Humans feared the most.” [A SQUAD OF EARTH FORCE SOLDIERS PEER THROUGH AN OPENING OF THEIR SHUTTLE POD, SIX INCHES FROM THE GROUND. THREE SOLDIERS STEP ONTO THE STREET. THE THREE SOLDIERS GO TOWARDS THE BILLINGTON FAMILY. GRABBING KYLE, THE THREE SOLDIERS TUG HIM FROM MOTHER BILLINGTON’S GRIP. COLE STARES AT THE SOLDIERS, HATRED RADIATING FROM HIM. MOTHER BILLINGTON PLEADS IN UNINTELLIGIBLE GARCONER. PICKING UP A ROCK, COLE TOSSES IT AT THE SHUTTLE POD. HITTING THE VEHICLE WITH A LOUD CLUNK, THE ROCK CREATES A DENT IN THE BLACK METALLIC SIDING, BEFORE FALLING TO THE STREET BELOW. THE SOLDIERS DRAG KYLE TOWARDS THE SHUTTLE POD. MOTHER BILLINGTON COLLAPSES TO THE GROUND, GRIEF MIXED WITH RAGE. COLE IS STOOD OVER HIS FATHER’S CORPSE. GLARING AT THE VEHICLE CONTAINING KYLE; COLE WATCHES IT SHOOT INTO THE ATMOSPHERE.] CUT TO: - SC6. INT. WAREHOUSE - GARCONER COLONY - DAY - 5077 [THE WAREHOUSE IS FILLED WITH A LARGE CROWD OF ADOLESCENT GARCONER. COLE IS STOOD ON A WOODEN CRATE AT THE NORTH END OF THE WAREHOUSE.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Let’s get them where they’ll hurt the most, where they’ll never expect it. Once we take out enough of the elite’s lineage, eventually they’ll have to rethink their policies. Are you with me?” [THE CROWD CHEERS.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “I said, are you with me?” THE CROWD(SHOUTING IN UNISON) “Yes!” [THERE’S A LOUD, RAUCOUS STAMPING OF FEET AND BANGING OF METAL OBJECTS TOGETHER. A CHANT ARISES; STARTING IN THE BACK, MOVING CLOSER TO THE STAGE COLE IS STOOD ON.] THE CROWD(CHANTING IN UNISON) “Cole! Cole! Cole! Cole! Cole!” [THE CHANT CONTINUES, CIRCLING THROUGH THE CROWD, EVER LOUDER, EVER MORE ADORING.] THE CROWD(CHANTING IN UNISON) “Cole! Cole! Cole! Cole! Cole! Cole! Cole! Cole! Cole! Cole!” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Our next target is the Mackenzie family located on Liverpool Lane; fifty five, ten Liverpool Lane in the Heritage District. You can’t miss it, it’s a big blue arched A-frame home done up in the style of a Classic Earth farm house. The Mackenzie’s have ancestral links down through the centuries to President Geoff Mackenzie of the American Mackenzie Administration, circa forty seven, eighty to eighty eight. They also have a cousin, ten times removed from the present leader of the Security Council to the U.N. back on Earth. Hit them hard and hit them fast. We don’t want any of them getting away this time. Don’t let yourselves be discovered. We can’t allow the same mistake that happened last time to happen again.” [COLE GAZES AT HIS COUSIN TOMMY IN THE BACK OF THE CROWD.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Old lady Jefferson nearly made you, Tommy. Don’t let that happen again.” TOMMY “Sorry.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Don’t be sorry, be smart.” CUT TO: - SC7. EXT. COAL HARBOUR SEAWALL - DAY - VANCOUVER - 5080 [COLE, HORATIO AND LIZ ARE SAT ON A BENCH EATING FISH AND CHIPS.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON (V.O.) “It can all start and end in an instant. That day in fifty, seventy five, I became a different boy, the boy who once had a smile to give to all, on that day, that boy became a vengeful Garconer patriot, nothing mattering but the mission. The mission was all that mattered. For once, I was loved, certainly not by the humans, nor the politicians, but I was loved. To those grieving adolescent boys and girls who’d lost parents and siblings to the hungry war machine of Human fear of the strange and unknown, to those Londoners who lost beloved friends and neighbours to the Colchester camp on the outskirts of town where Garconer were left to die; I was their last hope. To those boys and men caught up in secrets and lies, forced to be Humanities’ lab rats to give the Alliance a leg up concerning The Black Brigade, our true oppressors, I was their guiding light. Then after all those families were murdered in their own homes, on my orders, it was family that stopped me. I listened to my cousin Tommy be tortured, all as a means of learning my whereabouts. I sat listening to his cries of agony over the radio, little chicken shit that I was, cowering in a Blackberry Bush behind the facility Tommy was held. He never gave me up, Tommy died in agony because of me, I was too much of a coward to do the right thing. His familial love for me turned him first into a murderer, and finally to his end. All good things have their extremis, that point where positive is transformed to negative. That day changed everything, releasing my rage I pledged to make reparations any way I could. for the rest of my life, I will work to make up for what I’ve done.” CUT TO: - SC8. INT. GM PLACE - DAY - 5080 [HORATIO IS SETTING UP FOR A HOLO CONCERT. LIZ IS SAT WITH COLE AT THE EDGE OF THE STAGE.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “When does your internship with TRC start Liz?” LIZ CARNEGIE “Monday morning. There’s purportedly some huge secret involving the quantum manifold of our reality. It’s got Myra Bainbridge all a-flutter.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Intriguing.” [HORATIO TAPS THE MICROPHONE.] CUT TO: - SC9. INT. TRC LAB- DAY - YALE TOWN - 5080 [MYRA WALKS INTO THE LAB. SEVERAL SCIENTISTS ARE GATHERED AROUND A GLASS ENCLOSED WHITE MACHINE SHAPED LIKE AN HOUR GLASS. INSIDE THE GLASS, TENDRALS OF WHITE, NON MATTER POP IN AND OUT OF EXISTENCE. LIZ ENTERS THE LAB, WEARING A WHITE LAB COAT.] LIZ CARNEGIE “Liz Carnegie, reporting for research duty.” CAPTAIN MYRA BAINBRIDGE “Oh Liz, you’ve actually been seconded to the intelligence and diplomatic department. Someone up there specifically requested your involvement for a project.” LIZ CARNEGIE “Who’s that?” CAPTAIN MYRA BAINBRIDGE “A Captain Ifan Fencis of Penarth. I’m not privy to the details, Its eyes only U.K. official business. On with you now, take the stairs to the next floor. it’s the first door to the left.” LIZ CARNEGIE “Yes ma’am.” CUT TO: - SC10. INT. IFAN’S OFFICE - TRC- DAY - 5080 [IFAN FENCIS, LATE FORTIES, SIX FOOT IS SAT BEHIND A DESK. LIZ IS STOOD IN THE OPEN DOORWAY. THE OFFICE IS LARGE AND LUXURIOUS. VARIOUS HISTORIC ITEMS ARE SET ON SHELVES ALONG A WALL.] IFAN FENCIS “Take a seat Liz.” [LIZ SETTLES IN A CHAIR ACROSS FROM IFAN. IFAN HANDS LIZ AN E-READER.] IFAN FENCIS “The things you’re about to read Liz can’t leave this floor. I trust you’re a woman of your word?” LIZ CARNEGIE “I am sir, but why do you have such faith in me? We’ve only just met.” IFAN FENCIS “You don’t remember me Liz, but we have met; long ago. I’ve curated the articles I need you to read; you can spend the day doing that in the lounge. Come bring me the e-reader at the end of the day. Once you understand the true situation, we’ll discuss your job here.” LIZ CARNEGIE “Thank you sir.” [LIZ GETS TO HER FEET.] CUT TO: - SC11. INT. LOUNGE - TRC- DAY - 5080 [LIZ IS SAT ON A GREEN LEATHER COUCH, INTENTLY READING THE E-READER.] LIZ CARNEGIE(V.O.) “The first thing you need to understand is the history of the T.R.C. During the reign of Queen Anne Boleyn, she of the scapegoat trumped up adultery charges; a special trust was set up via Royal decree to investigate the paranormal activity occurring in the Glamorgan region. Specifically Splott and Llandaff. It was later determined these incidents were rife throughout the United Kingdom, but that would take until the Reign of Queen Victoria to be realized. Until then, the trust was entrusted to a wealthy family based in Llandaff, living in integrity and balance. The incident catalyzing citizens to action was a run in by the family with agents of the ultimate enemy of Mankind, the LUX being, commonly referred to as Abbaddon. Under Queen Victoria the trust was transformed into a vast network of small teams working to common purpose throughout the U.K., Australia and Canada. By the fifty first century, the Shropshire Patrol Company and the Splott Investigation Company merged with the Welsh Technical Advisory in Llandaff. Starting in the twentieth century, the Shropshire Patrol Company began measuring changes in the time line. We discovered cases of individuals becoming lost in time. This is where you come in Liz. Two of your years ago, the secret to travelling in time was perfected. As you can now guess, I’m not from around here, and not just because I’m partially of Grotto Incubi stock. My home base is sixty secondth Penarth. In my previous life, you know me as your friend Cole.” [LIZ LOOKS UP FROM HER READING, SHOCKED.] SC12. EXT. UNITY CITY CENTRE - INCUBA FIVE - DAY - 5120 [COLE WALKS PAST THE ENTRANCE TO AN UNDERGROUND BULLET TRAIN STATION, CARRYING A HEMP BAG WITH A STORE LOGO. ACROSS THE STREET, A ROW OF RETAIL SHOPS OF ALL SORTS LINE THE ROAD. PAST THE ENTRANCE TO THE UNDERGROUND A VAST PARK IS LAID OUT WITH A HEALTHY GREEN LAWN. BEYOND THIS, THE OFFICES OF THE CITY SENATE REACH HIGH ABOVE. ON THE STREET PEOPLE WALK PAST THE SHOPS. WE SEE HUMANS, GARCONER, GROTTO INCUBI, HOMINIDS AND SENATORIAL INCUBI WITH WINGS OF BLACK OR BLUE COLOURING. IN FRONT OF THE ENTRANCE TO THE UNDERGROUND, A GRAVITY WELL WHIPS UP. COLE IS PULLED HEAD FIRST INTO THE FUNNEL. COLE DISAPPEARS FROM VIEW. THE GRAVITY WELL FADES TO NOTHING. COLE’S BAG OF MERCHANDISE LIES ABANDONED ON THE PAVEMENT. A TURQUOISE BIRD WANDERS UP, PECKING AT THE CLOTH.] CUT TO: SC13. EXT. COMPLEX CENTRE, UCL, BLOOMSBURY - DAY - 2014 [CALVIN PRITCHARD, ADMINISTRATOR TO THE TIME LINE INVESTIGATION UNIT, ENTERS THE BUILDING. CALVIN IS IN HIS MID THIRTIES, SLIM, WITH CURLY BLOND HAIR.] CUT TO: - SC14. INT. RESEARCH LAB, TLIU ANNEX, COMPLEX CENTRE - DAY [THROUGHOUT THE LAB ARE NUMEROUS COMPUTERS RUNNING AN ASSORTMENT OF MATHEMATICAL AND GEOSYNCHRONOUS SIMULATIONS AND THEORETICAL PRIORI. DOCTOR MARGARET SUMMERFIELD IS STOOD BY AN AQUARIUM TANK CONTAINING SEVERAL ELECTRIC EELS. DOCTOR NIALL BARRETTE IS STOOD BY A COMPUTER, ENGROSSED IN THE NEUROCHEMICAL READINGS MOVING ACROSS THE SCREEN. CALVIN ENTERS THROUGH THE NORTH ENTRANCE.] CALVIN PRITCHARD “Are we going to see those eels perform circus tricks, Margie?” DOCTOR MARGARET SUMMERFIELD “Hello Calvin. How was the royal gala, did Charles agree to the increase in funding?” CALVIN PRITCHARD “As a matter of fact, he did.” [BEHIND CALVIN, DOCTOR BERNIE STEIN ENTERS THE LAB.] DOCTOR BERNIE STEIN “Good to hear it, Calvin.” CALVIN PRITCHARD “It’s very good.” [WALKING ACROSS THE CENTRE OF THE LAB, CALVIN EXITS THROUGH THE SOUTH DOOR.] CUT TO: - SC15. INT. INNER CORRIDOR, TLIU ANNEX, COMPLEX CENTRE - DAY [CALVIN WALKS DOWN THE CORRIDOR IN A WESTERLY DIRECTION. ON CALVIN’S LEFT IS RESEARCH LAB DELTA. WALKING TOWARDS CALVIN IS DOCTOR FREDA MARBLETONE.] CALVIN PRITCHARD “Freda, how are things?” DOCTOR FREDA MARBLETONE “We’re getting there, Calvin.” CALVIN PRITCHARD “I’m glad to hear it.” [FREDA ENTERS THE LAB. CALVIN IS STOOD IN THE ENTRANCE. INSIDE THE LAB DOCTOR HUBERT GREYLING IS SAT IN THE CENTRE OF THE LAB IN A BLACK LEATHER DENTAL CHAIR. HUBERT IS HOOKED TO AN IV DELIVERING A NEUROCHEMICAL SERUM. HUBERT IS LEANT BACK IN THE CHAIR, EYES OPEN, MIND CLEARLY SOMEWHERE ELSE. CALVIN STEPS BACK INTO THE CORRIDOR. CALVIN CONTINUES TOWARDS THE NEXT LAB, ‘PROJECT BRIGHT LIGHT‘. ON CALVIN’S RIGHT A CLOSED OFFICE DOOR HAS ‘ADMINISTRATOR’ ON IT. CALVIN UNLOCKS THE DOOR WITH A SET OF KEYS.] CUT TO: - SC16. EXT. CARDIFF BAY - DAY - 2014 [THE SKY ALTERNATES SWIFTLY BETWEEN BRIGHT, SUNNY SKIES AND DARK, LIGHTNING STREWN ONES.] SCOTT GILBRAY(V.O.) “I once thought I had my entire life planned out before me; do well in school, pass my A levels, get married, have a great life. For a while, it appeared to be going my way. I married my high school sweetheart Angie; we were the best of friends. Love of my life, she was. It was great, for a time. But Angie wasn’t happy, she’d never loved me as I’d loved her. One day she made this fact all too clear. I came home one evening; a bit later than is my normal schedule, only to find her in bed with another man.” CUT TO: - SC17. EXT. LLANSANNOR DRIVE APARTMENT COMPLEX - DAY - CARDIFF - 2014 [EGAN BYR, A LARGE WELSH MAN IS STOOD OUTSIDE THE BUILDING, HOLDING THE DOOR OPEN FOR HIS ENGLISH COUSIN. ON THE STREET, A ROMANIAN DRIVER IS STOOD IN FRONT OF THE OPEN BACKSEAT DOOR OF A PARKED CARDIFF CAPITAL CAB. SCOTT GILBRAY\JAMES HOLLYTREE STEPS THROUGH THE OPEN DOOR CARRYING TWO LARGE, GREEN RUCKSACKS.] EGAN BYR “Have you got everything?” SCOTT GILBRAY “I should have.” [SCOTT CARRIES THE BAGS TO THE VEHICLE. SCOTT HANDS THE BAGS TO THE DRIVER. SCOTT TURNS TO FACE EGAN.] SCOTT GILBRAY “Have a good weekend you hear?” EGAN BYR “Stay safe man. You see any suspicious activity going down at the airport terminal; you run, hear?” [BEHIND THE CAB, A TEN YEAR OLD BOY RIDES A BICYCLE ALONG THE STREET TOWARDS THE NORTH. ACROSS THE STREET TRICIA LLANREDA IS STOOD SMOKING A CIGARETTE. TRICIA’S FRIZZY BLONDE HAIR IS PARTIALLY OBSCURED BY A PINK HOODIE. FREDDY, A WHITE CAT NAPS ON THE LAWN IN FRONT OF THE APARTMENT COMPLEX TO TRICIA’S LEFT. THE SPRINKLER SYSTEM SWITCHES ON, DRENCHING FREDDY. FREDDY STALKS OFF TOWARDS TRICIA, HISSING AT THE ERRANT WATER. A SMALL PLANE LEISURELY CIRCLES ABOVE. SCOTT SLIDES INTO THE BACKSEAT OF THE CAB. WE HEAR THE DISTANT RUMBLINGS OF THUNDER.] CUT TO: - SC18. INT. CAB\ EXT. CENTRAL CARDIFF - DAY - 2014 [THE STREETS ARE FILLED WITH PEOPLE. SCOTT IS SAT IN THE BACK OF THE CAB AS IT MOVES THROUGH THE STREETS, EN-ROUTE TO THE AIRPORT. FLASHES OF GREEN APPEAR HIGH IN THE SKY.] SCOTT GILBRAY(V.O.) “Angie’s betrayal via the kitchen appliance repairman Bob Anderson nearly destroyed me. I loved Angie from the first moment I lay eyes upon her back in grammar school at the age of twelve. From that first day at London East Primary, we were inseparable. As time went on, heading into our A levels, we made quite a team, spurring one another ever onward, helping one another to learn our lessons, getting top marks in every subject. Perfect partners in every sense, it surprised no one when we announced our wedding. Angie hid her dissatisfaction well, I knew she was unhappy, I didn’t realize it was me. I doted on her, brought her white Daisies; her favorite Flower each Friday, like clockwork. Never missing a single week, until the last; that last dreadful Friday when I came home to find my wife in bed with another man.” CUT TO: - SC19. INT. CARDIFF INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - DAY - 2014 [SCOTT ENTERS THE MAIN TERMINAL.] SCOTT GILBRAY(V.O.) “My car breaking down, making me late to get home, this should have been warning enough. The flower shop closing early for repairs; this should have been omen enough. The shop being out of stock of Angie’s favorite white daisies; this should have been omen enough. When I finally arrived home, wondering what I could do in place of flowers; the sight of Angie groaning Bob’s name as she thrust against his naked body, this very nearly broke me.” CUT TO: - SC20. EXT. GILBRAY RESIDENCE - NIGHT - HIGHGATE [SCOTT SLAMS THE FRONT ENTRANCE OF HIS HOME, TEARS BATTLING SUPREMACY WITH RAGE. SCOTT STALKS TOWARDS THE CAR PARKED OUT FRONT.] CUT TO: - SC21. INT. VINO’S RESTAURANT - DAY - PENARTH [SCOTT IS SAT AT A TABLE BY THE WINDOW, MOBILE AT HIS EAR. ON THE TABLE SET BEFORE SCOTT IS A PLATE OF BANGERS AND MASH.] SCOTT GILBRAY(INTO PHONE) “Hey Egan, how are things in the upholstery business?” EGAN BYR(OVER PHONE) “We’re doing gangbusters, little cousin. Is that why you’re calling; you need some furniture restored?” SCOTT GILBRAY(INTO PHONE) “Sadly no. I’m in Penarth, eating breakfast at Vino’s, watching My marriage implode.” EGAN BYR(OVER PHONE) “Oh, Angie there with you?” SCOTT GILBRAY(INTO PHONE) “Angie’s in the dog house of love, she is. Walked in on her boinking Bob the kitchen repairman man.” EGAN BYR(OVER PHONE) “You’re bloody kidding me. I’d never dream she’d do that to you. Were there signs of her unfaithfulness before this?” SCOTT GILBRAY(INTO PHONE) “She were depressed, I knew that. But we never fought, not once. I thought I was a good husband, bought her jewellery, her favorite flowers. It can’t be my fault, not when she kept me in the dark about it all. Can it?” EGAN BYR(OVER PHONE) “That would depend on whether you’re seeing the whole picture or not mate. While I’m biased to taking your word for it, there’s always the possibility of you being oblivious to an issue she thought you’d intuitively pick up on. Women have this bloody annoying tendency to not be upfront about things bothering them. If they don’t tell us what’s on their mind, we aint bloody likely to know. Of course this is presumably a result of centuries of enculturation during which women were beaten senseless by creeps if they dare voice an opinion. That’s fallen by the wayside, but unfortunately women are still acting like they can’t be honest about their feelings. I’d ask your wife’s friends, see if they knew something you didn’t.” SCOTT GILBRAY(INTO PHONE) “That’s some great advice Egan. I’m honoured to have you as a cousin.” EGAN BYR(OVER PHONE) “That’s nice of you mate. You know I’ve got a spare room in my flat, save you paying for a hotel.” SCOTT GILBRAY(INTO PHONE) “Thanks for that.” CUT TO: - SC22. INT. PRODUCTION WAREHOUSE - DAY - CARDIFF [COLE ENTERS THE WAREHOUSE. TO COLE’S LEFT, THE OPENING CREDITS TO IRISH SKIES FLASHES ACROSS A TV SCREEN. REGINALD WALKS UP TO COLE, SCRIPT IN HIS HAND.] REGINALD DESMOIRE “Cole, I’ve allotted you episode ten, the drama controller loved the job you did on episode three. In one word, ‘BAFTA’.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Really, I like the sound of that Reg.” REGINALD DESMOIRE “So I hear you’ve got the local Waterstone book signing for book seven of The Ghost Wars tomorrow evening. Good luck.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Sure.” CUT TO: - SC23. INT. COMMONWEALTH PROTECTION BUREAU LOUNGE - UBC CHEMISTRY BUILDING - POINT GREY CAMPUS - DAY - VANCOUVER - 2014 [COLE ENTERS FROM THE CAMPUS CORRIDOR. COLE GLANCES TOWARDS A WINDOW SET ABOVE A BATTERED GREEN COUCH PLACED AGAINST THE WEST WALL. COLE REMOVES HIS RIFLE GREEN NAVAL JACKET. COLE PLACES IT ATOP A COAT RACK BY THE ENTRANCE. BY THE EAST WALL IS A LONG WOODEN TABLE. SEVERAL BLACK CHAIRS ARE SET AROUND THE TABLE. BEYOND THE TABLE A COUNTERTOP HOLDS AN ESPRESSO MAKER, A SINK AND A MICROWAVE. AGAINST THE SOUTH WALL, A SINGLE STEP DESCENDS TOWARDS THE MAIN WORKING AREA OF THE BASE. BEHIND COLE, BAILEY ENTERS FROM THE CAMPUS CORRIDOR. IN THIS ITERATION, BAILEY FUNCTIONS AS BASE MEDIC. BAILEY STROLLS PAST.] DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION "Morning, Captain." [BAILEY CONTINUES DOWN TO THE MAIN ROOM.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Doctor." [‘CONSTABLE’ SERA RASMUSSEN ENTERS BEHIND COLE FROM THE CAMPUS CORRIDOR. IN THIS ITERATION, SERA WORKS AS RCMP LIAISON WITH THE CPB.] CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "Hey Cole, how've you been?" [COLE FOLLOWS SERA DOWN TO THE MAIN ROOM, EXITING THE LOUNGE.] CUT TO: - SC24. INT. CPB MAIN ROOM - DAY - 2014 [IN THE CENTRE OF THE ROOM IS STOOD A LONG, NARROW WOODEN TABLE.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Morning Sera; did you and Gerald have fun at the theatre last night?" CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "It was lovely. Thank you for the tickets Cole. It was very thoughtful of you to remember Gerald's birthday. He never expected it, he was extremely grateful." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Thank Pete for that. He got the tickets from a developer he's recently taken on as a new client." CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "Tell him thanks." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "You've got it." [A NORTH EAST CORRIDOR LEADS TOWARDS COLE’S OFFICE. BEYOND COLE’S OFFICE IS THE ENTRANCE TO THE ARMOURY. PAST THIS, THE CORRIDOR TURNS TO THE SOUTH. TWO WORKSTATIONS ARE SET AGAINST A WALL BETWEEN TWO PARALLEL CORRIDORS. ON THE LEFT, ‘DOCTOR’ REGINALD DESMOIRE IS SAT IN FRONT OF A FLAT SCREEN COMPUTER MONITOR AND KEYBOARD. IN THIS ITERATION, REGINALD FUNCTIONS AS THE RESIDENT THEORETICAL PHYSICIST. A FRAMED PHOTO OF REGINALD’S TEENAGE DAUGHTERS VICTORIA AND MABLE IS SET TO THE SIDE OF THE MONITOR.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Morning, Reg." DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE "Captain." [ACROSS FROM REGINALD’S WORKSTATION, BRITTANY’S DESK IS SET AT A RIGHT ANGLE TO THE FIRST. A PILE OF REFERENCE BOOKS ON THE MYTH OF IMMORTALITY ARE SET TO THE LEFT. BRITTANY ENTERS FROM THE LOUNGE. IN THIS ITERATION, BRITTANY FUNCTIONS AS A DOCTORATE CANDIDATE IN HER FIELD OF SOCIOLOGY.] DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE "Brit, good to see you." [TAKING A SEAT AT HER WORKSTATION, BRITTANY PLACES A SUPPLY CASE NEXT TO THE REFERENCE BOOKS.] BRITTANY LONGFELLOW "Right back at you, Doctor Desmoire." [BEHIND REGINALD A SOUTHEAST CORRIDOR LEADS TO THE MEDICAL LAB. BEYOND THE LAB, A QUANTUM ENTANGLEMENT FIELD GENERATOR IS ATTACHED TO THE WALL. SIMILAR IN FORM TO AN AIR CONDITIONING UNIT, THE QEF GENERATOR IS MADE FROM A BLACK ALLOY. PAST THE GENERATOR IS A DECONTAMINATION AREA. BEYOND THIS IS A STORAGE ROOM. THE CORRIDOR MEETS UP WITH ANOTHER HORIZONTAL ONE GOING IN BOTH DIRECTIONS. POV. REGINALD’S COMPUTER MONITOR: A GRAPHIC SIMULATION OF THE COASTAL REGION’S GRAVITY WAVES.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Have you determined the cause of the fluctuations in the Time Stream?" DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE “Not yet. I have a few theories based on modern day weather science Sir." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Do tell Doctor." DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE "See these patterns here?" [A PAIR OF SQUIGGLY LINES ARE CENTRED NEAR THE APEX OF THE SIMULATION.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "I see them." DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE "It reminds me of a hurricane. Perhaps the time stream works similar to, albeit on a massive scale; as atmospheric patterns." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Good work Reg, I like the way you think. Question is, which pattern is precursor of the other; is it global warming?" DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE "How do you mean?" COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "All the tropical storms we've experienced locally this last while, not to mention the oddest assortment of future tech has been coming through at an alarming rate; our culprit may just be global warming." DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE "Can you imagine the public outcry we’d have on our hands if knowledge of the existences of the gravity wells and the ramifications to the very foundations of time itself were to ever become public knowledge?" COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Perhaps that's exactly what we’ll need for the nay-sayers to take the threat to the planet seriously. If damage caused by Humanity to this world is creating a ripple effect across the entire cosmos, we have a serious problem on our hands. That doesn‘t even take into account all the ultra terrestrials intermixing with our surface world. Suppose planets are like cogs inside a machine. Gum one cog up; the entire engine is fucked up." [BRITTANY BOOTS UP HER LAPTOP.] BRITTANY LONGFELLOW "Has Sam been in yet?" COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Not that I've seen." BRITTANY LONGFELLOW "I need Sam to run across to the Student Union building. We're running low of printer ink." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "I'll be sure to pass that on, if I see him." BRITTANY LONGFELLOW "Thanks, Cole. You're a peach." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "I do try." [COLE PAUSES FOR A BEAT.] “By the way Brittany, in case you wanted to add ultra terrestrial longevity to your doctoral study, you’ll want to speak to Michel Llandroff out of Chilchester, Treasurer to the WESQGO, the Welsh, English, Scottish, Quantum Geological Ordinance team. You should see him, he’s a rather attractive man in his late forties; the son of the Earl of some midlands’ Duchy and the holder of a Masters in Geology. He’s also a very good man. A former colleague and good friend of mine, Cory Montrose works with him. There are plots of land on the outskirts of Cardiff, around Mount Snowdon, to the north of London and in the Lake District where our world rubs up against the etheric worlds; similar in manner to tectonic plates. As with geological movements in the planet’s interior, there can be disruption in the quantum membrane separating the worlds, causing burial remains and landfill products to erupt from quantum fissures. Michel’s team works on an ad hoc basis, investigating open fissures and the refuse they send onto the planet.” BRITTANY LONGFELLOW “How long has this sort of thing been going on?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Who knows? Humanity aren’t the only higher civilization that lays claim to the planet folks, merely the rulers of the physical aspect of the planet. Other sentient beings rule the etheric, mental, astral and source aspects of the planet. The British Isles has the most intercommunication between us and them due to Britain’s position as Top Dog in the majority of the other aspects. North America lays claim to that unfortunate honour on the Astral aspect. I say unfortunate in this case because the Astral is the domain of illusion. Ultra-terrestrial glamour, living holographic Animaes infused with the essence of Fallen Gods; bait used by Abbaddon to reel in his prey. Sending celebrity constructs into the Astral lining of those chosen by him to perpetuate his Twin Flame delusion; he’ll take the image of a particular celebrity, create a holographic animae in their image, place a Fallen God into the astral body, the entity is made to believe they truly are the still living celebrity. They truly believe they are journeying to their source birth mate, occasionally going as far as taking over the body of the prey, acting as a living person mental interject. They’ll cause the victim to black out whilst this entity believing itself to be the celebrity will talk to those in the vicinity, informing them of the deeper essence of the living celebrity’s inner being. The thing is, the entity is in reality a Fallen God refusing source’s love, now truly believing itself to be the essence of said celebrity. Thus all it is capable of feeling is utter desolation; the victim, mistaking this for said celebrities’ inner torment falls all the more in love with said celebrity. They do say, love of another comes first from empathy for their sorrow.” DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE “The universe is truly more bizarre than any of us can ever know Cole.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Bizarre like headless jesters climbing beanstalks, and the giant at the top of that beanstalk? A giant head in a glass case, five billion years old. Never mind that though, I read that in a book when I was a child. Compared to the higher vibrations of Terra Firma where millions of sentient species live in relative peace, reaching ever higher in pursuit of knowledge and culture in the most loving of manners; the Astral is a blood strewn empire ruled with a brutal hand and an iron fist. It’s a vibratory level where the Top Dogs consist of warlords millions of years in age, holding court over the newly deceased brainwashed by servants of the Fallen into denying the source’s love or its very existence. Those rejecting the status quo of the Black Brigade; lacking knowledge of life beyond the desolate realm of the Father of Lies, maintaining an inability to remove themselves from the lower planes to return to source’s embrace, quickly find themselves in chains, held in the stone and wrought iron fortresses of said warlords.” DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE “How positively medieval it all sounds Cole.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “That’s why we’ve been dealing with these deplorable Galactic Federation of Light and Ashtar Command Tricksters urging true believers to pester Obama to allow the cat out of the bag on the topic of alien life. It’s completely ridiculous for several reasons. One, Obama knows he can’t say a peep without the permission of Ottawa, London, Canberra and Shanghai; I can’t see anyone signing off on it. Two, America may be the world’s superpower in terms of weapons of war but when it comes to knowledge of the quantum field they’ve been locked out of the knowledge base maintained by the Commonwealth nations. The Americans are left pecking at the glass of our databanks’ firewalls and manpower. Which is why the claim by Project Camelot of sending Obama through time and space is beyond dumb. We can’t even do that, how would the Americans manage it? Finally, the less attention one gives to the tricksters the better. One day our probes will capture indisputable video evidence of the vast array of Garconer, Stornaway and Incubi generation ships parked outside system Sol; species as physical as us. Species making no claims of ownership over the Human species and our birthright to our system of development. We evolved from the amino acids of Terra Firma just as all other sentient species evolved from the cosmic soup of their home worlds. We don’t need to muddy the waters, giving credence to claims by the Galactic Federation of Light of being our overseers, usurping our free will, desiring to murder the less evolved; stealing our collective right to step into a future of our own making. Each and every one of us creates that future, warts and all; taking the good with the bad, our setbacks becoming our strengths. For a group based out of the Astral to make claims on our eternal souls, threatening to take away our physical plane, our life support and safety net; forcing us into their fascistic empire in the Astral, they’ve got to be some truly nasty sons of bitches. We wouldn’t stand a chance on their home turf. But God has our back; put your faith in him and he’ll always have your back.” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “Bravo, lovely and yet creepy speech Cole.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “There’s this kooky cult in the U.K. involving a very complex blueprint of the soul lineage of those in incarnation. If you read between the lines you can make out the basic gist of it without all the complex imagery. The idea being the average soul clade, basically the spiritual equivalent of a tribe is made up of between three point five and four point five million individuals. Therefore, connections between members of these city size groups are liable to be stronger than connections between members of differing clades. Unfortunately they destroy the simplicity of it by adding details about Aliens and pyramids. For some bizarre reason unknown to me they work to in-still a sense of entitlement over the non-physical aspects of celebrities in vulnerable individuals in the grip of celebrity obsession syndrome. These people are led to believe their delusions are based in reality by unscrupulous charlatans somehow benefiting from the harm they cause to celebrities.” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “That’ll end well.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “One never knows when obsession could lead to murder; garner one crazed fan claiming to be your Twin Flame, others come to believe the same. Like moths to a flame, the celebrity attracts devotees like a God; lonely souls desiring the love of the star; their soul flaring as hot and as bright as the sun. Their love for the star feeling as that for God; all the reverence of the fans fanning the flames of worship; the star is no longer honoured for who they are, but for what they can give their admirers. One particular woman involved with the aforesaid cult has been stalking her chosen celebrity obsession, a married gay man. He is a cutie; although I do have a theory the woman in question is merely a P.R. stunt perpetrated by Mister Celeb. Either as mere publicity, to promote his own bizarre cult without ruining his reputation or means to talk to people on the internet through the use of a character. One never knows. I’m sure it all links back to the Black Brigade, otherwise known as The Galactic Fleet of Light or The Ashtar Command; wherein Commander Abbaddon goes by the name Commander Ashtar. After all, were he to use his rightful name, the gig would be up.” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “Discernment, the masses need it.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “The warnings are there for those with eyes to see and ears to hear the messages written in the literary consciousness. Miss Twin Flame; assuming she’s not merely the actor having a laugh at his fans; believes she and Mister Celebrity were members of an alien species known as the Andromedans in former lives, which is a bit odd when you think about it, because Andromeda is an entire galaxy. It would be like Humanity referring to themselves as Milky Wayans. Clearly certain members of the Black Brigade have more hope than brains. Their first mistake was assigning a woman as the snake in the grass to a gay man, a smart evil force would have sent another gay man in her stead. Could be the universal tax man gave him his orientation as a protective measure, insuring the woman wouldn’t be a temptation, cancelling out any nefarious plans the Black Brigade had for him.” DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE “Spooky world we inhabit Cole.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Spooky universe. Horatio had this lovesick woman named Rebecca Swartz claiming my honey was her Twin Flame; the fact he had absolutely no interest in ever bedding a woman meant nothing to her. She’d work on film sets when Horatio was working a scene, she’d volunteer to work at my man’s sustainable food charities, which is not a bad thing exactly. Just she didn’t quite seem to be truly invested in the project. She kept bugging Horatio to study holistic healing, to become a Reiki practitioner; something he had no inclination towards whatsoever. Those working the PSYOP angle on the Black Brigade’s behalf desire to lead people away from their mission in life, particularly those assigned by the universal tax man the job of entertaining people, making them think, allowing one the clout needed to make real change in the world. That’s why fundamentalist Christians tend to not like certain popular singers, they’re too non- conformist and thought provoking to their liking; making people think about things those obsessed with conformity would rather they ignore.” BRITTANY LONGFELLOW “So what did you guys do?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Rebecca was everywhere, we couldn’t get away from her. Until one day she just disappeared, kind of like how I did. Of course, due to certain youthful indiscretions of my own, suspicion fell on me; after all she was after my man. It was all rather silly because I knew she was no threat. Just a mere gnat attempting to squeeze in through a window screen. There was also the unfortunate matter of a little tete a tete the pair of us had immediately preceding her disappearance. The three of us were in Cardiff working on a Holovision serial in fifty one hundred. Horatio played the lead, I was consulting on extremist psychological underpinnings; Rebecca worked on costuming. I wasn’t on set all that often, so in my down time I did pro bono work as a social worker in town. Rebecca showed no signs of letting up on her obsession with my husband so I figured I’d try a little sociological analyzing on her behalf. At the time, the serial we worked on concerned the Fallen God Bombers, minions of Abbaddon. Set during the nineteen forties after the war; Horatio played a private detective in a trench coat. Rebecca’s obsession was brought on by her involvement in the machinations of the Black Brigade. I did a little research into her belief system online. I found information going back to twenty ten in the archives. I met with her at a sweet little café’ down by Mermaid Quay, showed her the four one, one on her friends in the Ashtar Command. That was that; she stomped out of the café’ furious. I watched her head towards the barrage and out of sight, out of mind; settling in for a cup of honey tea and a read through of the following week’s script. Once she was reported missing, the cops were sure I must have had something to do with it.” BRITTANY LONGFELLOW “Yeesh!” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “We are not Gods no matter how much the New Agers like to proclaim it. In that path lies the rubble of the enemy of life, his Fallen God Bombers and his murderous dark medics. Out of that emanates the force of fear; fear of judgement, fear of difference and fear the other will bring you pain. It only takes one man to stand up and demand a change. Those around him can choose to join him, making one, two, two, four; forever onwards until you have an entire army ready and willing to fight the good fight. Unfortunately, contemporary society is not ready and willing to make that choice. Thus that one man remains a single lone voice crying out into the wilderness. Do you know what it is that separates that one man from the wolves and the snakes too cowardly to join him? One word, intelligence; true intelligence. I’m not being ablest here, when I refer to intelligence I don’t mean one’s intellectual quotient; I refer to one’s willingness to work out of the intellectual mind and not the id. This fear of the other, the fear of sticking out above the crowd, the reptilian and mammalian brain deep below our more modern primate, Hominid and sentient brain regions fears being plucked up by a bird of prey or taken down by a lion. Every Human on this planet came out of Africa at some point in their lineage, home to the deadliest predators on the planet. Sure, the only birds larger than a Human child are flightless, but that fear comes not from dangers we presently face; but from our oldest genetic sequences; the ones we share with lemurs. How do you tell that ten million year old gene strand a hawk will not capture you in its beak if you refuse to cow tow to society’s demands to be mediocre? It’s that fear preventing the common man from utilizing their full intellectual capacity. That refusal to hone that mighty muscle in the brain, that anti intellectual streak so endemic down south and anywhere else where New Age spirituality is rife; it’s the one thing preventing the people of this planet from escaping the clutches of those anti life forces that would see them dissolve into cosmic dust. The existence of the Fallen Gods and their Master Commander Abbaddon have been woven into the tapestry of all major civilizations this planet has ever experienced from the Greek Titans to the Torah.” BRITTANY LONGFELLOW “You should write a book sir.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “I’m too busy for that.” [COLE HEADS FOR HIS OFFICE. OUTSIDE HIS OFFICE, COLE MEETS SERA COMING UP THE FAR END OF THE CORRIDOR. IN HER HANDS, SERA HOLDS A FILE FOLDER OF THE PAST WEEK’S TIME STREAM FLUCTUATION PATTERNS. SERA CONTINUES TOWARDS THE MAIN ROOM. ENTERING HIS SMALL, PERSONAL OFFICE, COLE CLOSES THE DOOR BEHIND HIM.] CUT TO: - SC25. INT. COLE’S OFFICE - DAY - 2014 [COLE IS SAT IN A BLACK LEATHER CHAIR BEHIND HIS DESK. ON EITHER SIDE OF THE ROOM ARE STOOD TALL RED FILING CABINETS. WE HEAR A KNOCK ON THE DOOR.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Come in." [THE DOOR OPENS TO REVEAL SERA.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "What can I do for you Sera, is the gravity well acting up again?" CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "It's going full throttle Cole, the security cameras show all sorts of gear coming through." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Have Sam suit up in protective gear; have him go check it out. Make sure he has someone there with him." CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "I'll go." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "How's the weather?" CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "It’s gone completely insane." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "The gravity well, is it on the beach again?" CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "It's its new favourite spot Cole." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Good luck." [SERA EXIT’S THE ROOM. COLE MAKES A CALL.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON(INTO PHONE) "Pete, it's your honey bear. What are you wearing?" CUT TO: - SC26. INT. LOUNGE - TRC- DAY - 5080 [LIZ IS SAT ON A GREEN LEATHER COUCH. LIZ INTENTLY READS THE E-READER.] LIZ CARNEGIE(V.O.) “In fifty one, twenty Cole will fall through a gravity well. Crown records tell us that during the early twenty first century, Cole led the West Coast Division of the Commonwealth Protection Bureau out of Vancouver. Joining the cause a century earlier, Cole left his three grown offspring Jack, Emelia and Emelio as well as his estranged wife Carmina in Fort Worth, Texas. His youngest and favourite, Emelio took after him, serving as communications liaison for the Woodrow administration in Washington. Emelio’s older brother Jack lost his life in France in nineteen fifteen by way of a German torpedo. The middle child Emelia lived a typical life of an American housewife, excepting her gift of longevity inherited from her Garconer father.” CUT TO: - SC27. INT. COMMUNAL LOUNGE - COMPLEX CENTRE - DAY - BLOOMSBURY - 2014 [HUBERT IS SAT ON A WHITE COUCH SET AGAINST THE NORTH WALL. HUBERT WRITES THE DAY’S REPORT ON HIS LAPTOP AT A TABLE. ALONG THE EAST WALL, ANOTHER TABLE IS SET FOR HIGH TEA. A TRAY OF CUCUMBER FINGER SANDWICHES IS SET IN THE CENTRE OF THE TABLE. BETWEEN THE COUCH AND THE TEA SPREAD IS A NORTH ENTRANCE. CALVIN ENTERS. SEVERAL PEOPLE ARE ARRAYED ON MORE COUCHES SET AROUND THE LARGE ROOM. SEVERAL PEOPLE WORK ON LAPTOPS. OTHER PEOPLE READ BOOKS. WALKING FURTHER INTO THE ROOM; CALVIN GRABS A SANDWICH FROM THE TRAY.] CALVIN PRITCHARD “Good afternoon Doctor, did you learn anything interesting from your travels today?” DOCTOR HUBERT GREYLING “You’ll like what you’ll read in the report, Calvin. We shouldn’t discuss it here of course, but we may just have stumbled across the early beginnings of a brand new family of languages developing.” CALVIN PRITCHARD “Excellent news Hubert. I’m off; I’ve a date with the missus. ‘The Monkey King‘, It‘s got rave reviews, I hear. Tonight‘s the London premiere, the Vancouver production was purported to be a real show stopper.” [CALVIN EXITS THE ROOM.] CUT TO: - SC28. EXT. BEACH - DAY - POINT GREY - 2014 [SAMUEL PETERS, EARLY TWENTIES, CPB MEDICAL INTERN GAZES TOWARDS THE HORIZON. SAMUEL WEARS A BLUE BIOHAZARD SUIT. A FREIGHTER PASSES ACROSS THE HORIZON. ITS RAINING. SERA IS STOOD NEXT TO SAM. ALSO SUITED UP, SERA HOLDS A CARDBOARD BOX. SERA COLLECTS VARIOUS OBJECTS FROM THE SHORELINE, TOSSING THEM INTO THE BOX. SAMUEL DOES THE SAME. SAMUEL PEERS AT AN OBLONG, SILVER METAL OBJECT HE HOLDS IN HIS HAND.] CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "How are you doing there, Sam? What do you have there, Sam?” SAMUEL PETERS "Heck if I know." CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "That's the point, Sam. We don't know what any of this stuff is. We don't know where it's come from; we don't know when it's come from. Could be a billion years down the line; could be next week." SAMUEL PETERS "What happens if we get a missile through here; what do we do then?" CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "I don't know, Sam. Duck and cover, I suppose." SAMUEL PETERS "We've a ton of riff-raff to collect. Old King Cole will not be pleased if we miss something which manages to create some major malfunction in the city." CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "Don't call him that." [SERA TOSSES AN OBJECT INTO THE BOX.] SAMUEL PETERS "Which part, old or King?" CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "I don’t suppose he'd approve of either one." SAMUEL PETERS "Spoil my fun. It could be worse; I could have dubbed him an old Queen." CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "Sam, let's you and I get one thing straight. Captain Billington is the Director of our little organization; as such, he deserves our full and complete respect. Even if he weren't in charge, he's an amazing man who’s had to go through a load of trouble to get to where he is today. I won't have you talking smack about him, are we clear?" SAMUEL PETERS "We're clear. You're in love with him, aren't you?" CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "What? No! What would ever give you that idea? Besides, were I to desire anything to happen on that front, I've got Gerald, and Cole's got Pete." SAMUEL PETERS "Things change." CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "I'm not looking to be Billington's dirty little secret Sam thank you very much. I've too much riding on my relationship with Gerald to risk it on something that has no hope of ever going anywhere." SAMUEL PETERS “I don’t know about that; your loss." CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "Samuel Peters, this is not the type of conversation we should be having in the workplace.” SAMUEL PETERS “We’re on a beach.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “I realize that. Believe me; I don’t want Cole, as much as he’d prefer otherwise. I adore my husband. He’s loving and giving and absolutely the man for me. Besides, Cole's nothing to write home about." SAMUEL PETERS "You don't say! You certainly wouldn't think so observing him stroll across campus like he owns the place." [A STRANGE BLACK OBJECT IS LODGED BENEATH A ROCK. SERA REMOVES THE OBJECT WITH A SLIGHT BIT OF DIFFICULTY. SERA DROPS THE OBJECT INTO THE BOX.] CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN "That man is your employer Sam; I happen to think he’s rather sweet.” [PICKING UP A YELLOW OBJECT, SAMUEL DROPS IT INTO THE BOX. AT THE WATER’S EDGE, A SEA GULL WRANGLES A TINY, RED SAND CRAB. SERA RETRIEVES A NARROW, SILVER OBJECT FROM THE GROUND. SERA TOSSES THE OBJECT ONTO THE PILE OF FUTURE AND NON-TERRESTRIAL TECH.] CUT TO: - SC29. EXT. GOWER STREET, UCL BLOOMSBURY CAMPUS - DAY [CALVIN WALKS NORTH TOWARDS BEDFORD WAY. THERE’S SILENCE FOR A BEAT. THE STREET FILLS WITH A FILMY IMAGE OF A CROWD AGE TWENTY TO FIFTY. THE CROWD SHOUTS. AN ARMY OF MECHANICAL JESTERS ARE LED AS PRISONERS OF WAR DOWN THE CENTRE OF THE STREET. AVERAGING SIX FOOT IN HEIGHT, THE JESTERS ARE ENCASED IN SOLID STEEL SUITS COVERING EVERYTHING BUT THEIR FACES. STEEL HELMETS COVER THEIR HAIRLINES. THE JESTERS’ FACES ARE PAINTED IN THE VISAGE OF MEDIEVAL COURT JESTER CHINA DOLLS. THE GUARDS LEADING THE JESTERS ARE GARCONER. THE GARCONER ARE ADORNED IN RED JACKETS, TOPPING BLACK TROUSERS. SOME IN THE CROWD HOLD UP SIGNS. A FEW OF THESE SIGNS STATE - ‘BURN THEM TO SCRAP‘. THE IMAGE DISSOLVES. THERE’S SILENCE FOR A BEAT. CALVIN PLACES HIS MOBILE TO HIS EAR.] CALVIN PRITCHARD “Clement; hey we’ve a bit of a situation on Gower Street. Get back to me as soon as possible, thanks.” [CALVIN CLOSES HIS MOBILE.] CUT TO: - SC30. INT. CPB MAIN ROOM - DAY - 2014 [SAMUEL ENTERS FROM THE LOUNGE. SAMUEL HAS REMOVED HIS HELMET. TWO HELMETS SIT ATOP THE BOX SAMUEL CARRIES. SERA ENTERS BEHIND SAMUEL. REGINALD ENTERS BEHIND SERA. REGINALD CARRIES A BUNDLE OF COLLATED TIME STREAM DATA PRINT OUTS. SAMUEL PLACES THE BOX ATOP THE CENTRE TABLE. BAILEY ENTERS FROM THE SOUTH CORRIDOR.] DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “What’s all this?” [SERA STEPS OUT OF HER BIOHAZARD SUIT. SERA PLACES THE SUIT ON THE TABLE.] CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Gravity well refuse.” [SAMUEL REMOVES HIS BIOHAZARD SUIT. SAMUEL PLACES HIS SUIT NEXT TO SERA’S. GRABBING BOTH SUITS; BAILEY ENTERS THE SOUTH CORRIDOR. BAILEY PASSES BRITTANY AS SHE ENTERS THE ROOM.] BRITTANY LONGFELLOW “What did I miss?” SAMUEL PETERS “Not much; though I did spot a sea gull enjoying a scrumptious seafood dinner.” [SERA RIFLES THROUGH THE CARDBOARD BOX. COLE ENTERS FROM THE CORRIDOR OUTSIDE HIS OFFICE. SERA AND SAMUEL SORT THROUGH THE BOX. COLE STEPS BETWEEN SERA AND SAMUEL. COLE PLACES A HAND ATOP SERA‘S LEFT SHOULDER.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “What have we got?” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “I propose we get a bell for you Cole; a big, sexy bell, so we’ll know when you’re coming up behind us.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Good riposte, Doctor. Actually, that sounds kind of fun. I’ll be the big, hungry panther; you can be the squirrel. Fun will be had by all.” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “Cole, leave the sex games for Pete, why don’t you?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Fair point.” [BAILEY EXITS TOWARDS HIS MED LAB. COLE SHOWS SERA A MID NINETEEN FIFTIES COSMETIC COMPACT.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Take a look at this.” [COLE FLIPS THE COMPACT OPEN. WE SEE A MIRROR AND FOUNDATION.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Fresh as the day it left the factory floor.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Cole, what would you know about women’s cosmetics?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Not much personally. Now Horatio, he was another matter completely.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Your ex wore make up?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Only for his drag act. Horatio was renowned for his impersonation of Marilyn Monroe. He was beautiful; both as a man and as a woman. Yo Reg.” [COLE PAUSES FOR A BEAT.] “There’s got to be some means of tracking these objects through the gravity wells, find the source of the time storm. Determine if it’s a natural universal force, or created by a group of intelligent beings; by design, or accidental. Perhaps some horrible catastrophe managed to rip apart the foundations of time and space itself.” DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE “Do you have evidence for your hypothesis?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “When I lived in Cardiff after meeting Horatio in the fifty eighties, there were rumours of secretive government experimentation involving temporal energy; which supposedly damaged those involved. There were tales of black uniformed soldiers slinking through the slums of Splott, Cardiff in the dead of night. Whilst volunteering with the Caebraetry Redemption Centre, serving afternoon soup to the city’s downtrodden; I heard some real whoppers. Can it be done Reg?” DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE “I doubt it.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “What’s bothering you, Cole?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "I’ve had dreams causing me to lie awake with niggling feelings of dread tearing at the back of my mind. The future rushes towards me like a freight train, the brakes are stuck and the engines’ gone off the rails. There’s no coherent story line, I just know that it feels horrible, like the very universe is screaming in misery; I’m locked in a tiny box for eternity, driven slowly insane.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “You poor man. You watch too much science fiction Cole. Ergo the boy who waited and the man who could not die. Imagine the post traumatic stress disorder.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “We won’t talk about that show Sera.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “We have your latest obsession Cole, Irish Skies, shot in Cardiff.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “We know you love that show Sera.” SAMUEL PETERS “I’ve never seen it.” DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE “Boy are you missing out.” [SERA GRABS A NARROW, SILVER METAL TUBE WRAPPED IN A STRAND OF GREEN KELP FROM THE BOX OF ODDITIES.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Sam; have Doctor O’Bannion run tests on the kelp to determine where it originated. Once you’ve determined this; if the kelp is revealed to be alien, do a chemical analysis to see if it matches any records we have on file.” [SAMUEL TAKES THE OBJECT FROM SERA’S HAND. SAMUEL EXITS VIA THE SOUTH CORRIDOR.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “He’s a good little minion.” [BRITTANY IS SAT AT HER DESK. BRITTANY IS ENGROSSED IN TYPING UP NOTES FOR HER DOCTORATE THESIS ON THE MYTH OF IMMORTALITY.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “You know Brittany, its too bad that we’re not back in my home era. Your dissertation options would be much more interesting with an entire galaxy of historical literature to sift through.” BRITTANY LONGFELLOW “Such as?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “On Garconer Colony, we had a literary trope born of the oldest myths of the Galaxy; on every planet connected to the Galactic Alliance an overriding theme crossed thousands of cultures throughout the galaxy. Stories were told of God-like individuals; in some cases it was technology that kept them alive for eons. The beings were somehow contained in a manner considered to be the most cruel thing ever inflicted on another sentient being. Sometimes this was born of pure cruelty, often it was born of fear, occasionally it was born of a sense of misplaced justice needing to be done.” DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE “Ignorance creates fear.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “The Garconer speak of the tale of the Patron Saint of Soldiers, one of our three higher Gods. As Human culture intertwined with our own, we integrated the Victorian era’s urban myth of Spring Heel Jack into the God’s life narrative. Covering his face with a metal visor; he goes by the name ‘Jack’. Imprisoned in a cave; he was watched over by guards for two millennia for a crime he did not commit, reminiscent of Christ’s descent to Sheol during the three days in the tomb. Three days could last an eternity in the shadow lands. The tale of Spring Heel Jack calls to anyone made into a Scapegoat unfairly. Anyone hated for something intrinsic to their being, making them different from the herd.” [COLE PAUSES FOR A BEAT.] “Alright people, back to work. Sera, can you take over here? I’ve some tax forms I need to fill out for the folks in Ottawa. Bloody red tape, it takes all the fun out of being big cheese.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Are you saying you’re cheesy Cole?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “I sure am.” CUT TO: - SC31. INT. THE FITZROY DOLL’S - RUSSELL SQUARE - BLOOMSBURY - DAY [CALVIN IS SAT AT A TABLE WITH ANNA PRITCHARD, A DARK HAIRED, EASTERN EUROPEAN WOMAN, 5’7, LATE THIRTIES. TWO PLATES OF CHICKEN ALFREDO ARE SET ON THE TABLE. NEXT TO ANNA’S PLATE ARE PLACED TWO TICKETS FOR LONDON’S PREMIERE OF ‘THE MONKEY KING‘.] ANNA PRITCHARD “They say the costumes are stunning.” CALVIN PRITCHARD “Hold that thought, I’ve got a call to take.” [CALVIN LIFTS HIS MOBILE TO HIS EAR.] CALVIN PRITCHARD “Clement, I need you to take readings off Gower Street. I saw an etheric image of a crowd of people lining the road as an army of metal men were led by a group of alien guards towards the university. Right before and immediately after, there was this unearthly silence, as though reality ceased to exist. Let me know what you find in the morning.” [CALVIN CLOSES HIS MOBILE.] CALVIN PRITCHARD “Now, where were we?” SC32. INT. COLE’S CONDO - NIGHT - CARDIFF BAY - 2014 [POV. VIEW THROUGH LIVING ROOM WINDOW: HARBOUR VIEW. COLE ENTERS THE CONDO. CECIL SMITH, TRANSGENDER MAN, NO HO, STEPS OUT OF THE KITCHEN FACING THE HARBOUR. FIVE FOOT SIX, CECIL HAS GREY EYES AND SHORT, CURLY BLONDE HAIR. CECIL’S SMALL CHEST IS UNBOUND BENEATH A BLACK MEN’S DRESS SHIRT OVER CARAMEL SLACKS.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Hello darling.” [COLE AND CECIL SHARE A PASSIONATE KISS.] CUT TO: - SC33. INT. CPB MED LAB - DAY - 2014 [BAILEY IS STOOD IN FRONT OF THE CABINET. BAILEY PEERS THROUGH THE MAGNIFICATION VIEWER OF AN ELECTRON MICROSCOPE. A SAMPLE OF THE KELP FROM THE BEACH IS SET ATOP A GLASS SLIDE. COLE ENTERS THE LAB. TWO MEDICAL BEDS ARE SET IN THE CENTRE OF THE LAB. SAMUEL IS STOOD BY A SERIES OF PREPARED CHEMICAL SOLUTIONS. BAILEY HANDS SAMUEL A TRAY OF CHOPPED SLICES OF KELP.] DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “Let’s do an edibility test next.” [SAMUEL PREPARES SAMPLES TO TEST THEIR ALKALINE ACIDIC SCALE.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “What, you want to eat it?” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “Not particularly, no.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “I just had to ask.” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “Yes, you did, you’re always thinking with your stomach, aren’t you Billington?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “You know me Bailey. It’s definitely non terrestrial, then?” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “Oh yeah.” [THE KELP ON SAM’S TRAY SIZZLES AS THE CHEMICAL SOLUTION HITS IT.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “That does not look good.” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “Don’t go eating that, Cole.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “I wasn’t planning to, so it’s definitely poisonous?” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “Oh yeah, and it’s definitely alien.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “So what do we know about this little alien plant?” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “We have determined that the planet this little beauty came from has much more acidic oceans than here on Earth.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Alright; on the other hand, we also know that this particular planet must play host to intelligent life; what with the metal tube it was wrapped around. Has the computer made a match?” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “It has.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Get on with it, what’s the verdict Doctor?” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “My God Cole, if this little miracle found it’s way here a few years back, we’d have been able to save the alien whom died on us.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “The Betran Andronicus you mean, are you serious?” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “God, the Universe is cruel.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Look on the bright side, Bailey. If it happens again, we’ll have the proper food source available.” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “That’s certainly one way to look at it.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “That‘s the spirit Bailey; you know what we need to do next don’t you?” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “Of course Billington; I’ll get that nutrient source prepared for long term storage, so if and when another Betran Andronicus lands on our doorstep, he or she won’t fucking die on us.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Cool your jets there, O’Bannion.” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “Yeah, yeah. I’m just venting a bit of steam here, Cole.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “I’ll be awaiting your final write up concerning the alien plant life with great interest Bailey.” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “You do that, Billington.” CUT TO: - SC34. INT. CPB LOUNGE - DAY - 2014 [COLE ENTERS FROM THE MAIN ROOM. SERA AND BRITTANY ARE SAT AT THE TABLE. SERA AND BRITTANY ENJOY A LATE LUNCH OF SOUP AND RICE CRACKERS.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “God, how can you two eat those things?” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “You should try it sometime Cole, it might do you a world of good.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Oh, not you too; I get enough health talk from Pete, I don’t need it in the work place as well.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Sorry Cole.” [COLE GRABS A RICE CRACKER FROM SERA’S PLATE. COLE TAKES A BITE OF THE CRACKER.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Uhh!” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “You are such a drama Queen, Cole.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Hmm, I am at that. So, what’s the scoop?” [COLE NIBBLES THE RICE CRACKER.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Do you think there’s a reason this tastes like Styrofoam packaging?” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Are you bored, Cole?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “God, yes.” BRITTANY LONGFELLOW “Don’t you have work to be doing, Sir?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “I’m shirking my duties to pester you two beautiful ladies.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Go away Cole.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Fine.” [COLE HEADS TOWARDS THE EXIT INTO THE CORRIDOR.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “I’ve got to head over to the campus library, anyways.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Good night my sweet Prince.” CUT TO: - SC35. INT. IRVING K. BARBER LIBRARY - DAY - 2014 [COLE ENTERS THE BUILDING THROUGH THE MAIN ENTRANCE. COLE EXCHANGES A SMILE WITH PROFESSOR LORRAINE BABCOCK, HEAD OF UBC’S ENGLISH DEPARTMENT. IN HER LATE FIFTIES, LORRAINE HAS GINGER HAIR AND A SMATTERING OF FRECKLES AROUND HER NOSE.] PROFESSOR LORRAINE BABCOCK “Hello Cole.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Hello cutie, I’ve missed you, do you know that?” PROFESSOR LORRAINE BABCOCK “It’s been a long time Cole, I hardly think that’s an appropriate means of greeting. Do you?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Of course.” [WE SEE A POSTER ON THE WALL PROMOTING AN UFO CONFERENCE SET TO COMMENCE LATER IN THE WEEK. WE SEE A ROW OF BOOKS ON A SHELF BENEATH THE LABEL ‘CANADIAN POETS’. STOOD AT THE SHELF, COLE RUNS A HAND DOWN THE ROW OF SLIM HARD COVERS CONTAINING CANADA’S BEST SELECTION OF POETRY OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY.] FREDERICK NISCHBERGEN(O.O.V.) “Cole Billington! You are just the man I was looking for.” [POV. COLE TURNS TO HIS RIGHT: FREDERICK NISCHBERGEN, DEAN OF INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS IS STOOD TO COLE‘S RIGHT.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Dean Nischbergen, what can I do for you?” FREDERICK NISCHBERGEN “Have a hankering for some lesbian erotica, Billington?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “What?” FREDERICK NISCHBERGEN “That book you’ve got your hands on.” [COLE LIFTS HIS HAND FROM WHERE IT LAY.] FREDERICK NISCHBERGEN “‘The Complete Selection of Women’s Love’.” [COLE PEERS AT THE BOOK IN QUESTION.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “No Frederick; I’m not after that.” FREDERICK NISCHBERGEN “Hey, you owe me no explanations Billington. As a matter of fact, do me a favour, please don’t explain it if you don’t mind.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “What did you want to speak to me about Frederick?” FREDERICK NISCHBERGEN “Oh yes, I need to speak to you about this year’s Halloween festivities. Seeing as my department is International Relations, and you’re in charge of Alien Relations, what better partnership can there possibly be?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “What did you just say?” FREDERICK NISCHBERGEN “Come now Billington, don’t act so surprised. You don’t think your little secret isn’t common knowledge amongst University staff? Admit it, you are part of a public relations campaign designed to distract the public with flights of fancy, whilst good Doctor Desmoire helps the Department of Defence develop the ability for interstellar flight.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “You’ve got me Frederick. Boy, you are a sharp one, aren’t you?” FREDERICK NISCHBERGEN “I’ve the brains of Sherlock Holmes and the street smarts of Al Capone. You can’t get a thing past me, Billington.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “We’ll talk.” [FREDERICK GIVES COLE THE THUMBS UP SIGNAL. FREDERICK WANDERS OFF.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “My life is so strange. Where has your lovely book gotten to, eh Mable?” CUT TO: - SC36. INT. IFAN’S OFFICE - TRC- DAY - 5080 [IFAN IS SAT ON THE COUCH WITH HIS WIFE CORA. DOPPELGANGER OF CECIL SMITH, CORA’S BLONDE HAIR IS SHOULDER LENGTH. CORA WEARS A GREY SKIRT TOPPED WITH A NAVY BLUE UNIFORM. IFAN AND CORA ARE ENGAGED IN A HEAVY KISSING SESSION. AFTER A BEAT WE HEAR A KNOCK ON THE CLOSED DOOR. IFAN JUMPS TO HIS FEET. IFAN WALKS TOWARDS HIS DESK, PLACING A HAND ON THE FRONT EDGE.] IFAN FENCIS “Come in.” [THE DOOR OPENS, REVEALING LIZ.] LIZ CARNEGIE "So, time travel eh? IFAN FENCIS "Time travel." LIZ CARNEGIE "Cool." IFAN FENCIS "It is cool. You know what's also Cool? I'd like you to meet my wife Cora. You want to talk Baroque music or lavant linguistics; she’s the one. Really, I mean that, she's the one." LIZ CARNEGIE "I see what you did there." [WALKING TOWARDS THE COUCH, IFAN TURNS AT A RIGHT ANGLE. ALONG THE WALL FACING IFAN, AN EDWARDIAN TEA SERVICE IS SET ATOP A BLACK TEAK SHELF. GOING TO THE WALL, IFAN OPENS A CUPBOARD SET BELOW THE SHELF. IFAN KNEELS ON THE CARPET. POV. INSIDE THE CUPBOARD: A SAFE IS SET INSIDE THE WALL. IFAN UNLOCKS THE SAFE. IFAN REMOVES A SILVER RING WITH A GOLD INFINITY SYMBOL ENGRAVED ON IT FROM THE SAFE. A GREEN LED LIGHT EMANATES FROM THE SYMBOL. GETTING TO HIS FEET, IFAN PLACES THE RING ON HIS FINGER OPPOSITE HIS GOLD WEDDING BAND. IFAN TURNS TO FACE LIZ.] IFAN FENCIS “Care for some tea Liz?” LIZ CARNEGIE “Sure, alright.” [TURNING BACK AROUND, IFAN KNEELS DOWN. IFAN LOCKS THE SAFE. IFAN GETS TO HIS FEET. IFAN FIDDLES WITH THE TEA SERVICE.] IFAN FENCIS “Did you know Liz, Cora and I were given this priceless tea service from Queen Anne the tenth as a good faith provision for our service to the crown, a sort of sweetening of the pot to top off our contract. We’ve jumped back a good millennia from our home era and crossed an ocean besides.” [IFAN HANDS LIZ A CUP OF TEA. LIZ ACCEPTS THE CUP.] LIZ CARNEGIE “How does it work?” [LIZ TAKES A SIP FROM HER TEA.] IFAN FENCIS “We’ll get to that Liz, but first you need to acclimatize yourself to the early twenty first century through observation.” [IFAN TURNS TO POUR TWO MORE CUPS OF TEA.] IFAN FENCIS “I’ve got my own personal supplier of tea circa the Edwardian era. One of the fellows assigned to shadow Cole’s activities during that short monarchical reign supplies me with fresh tea.” LIZ CARNEGIE “Doesn’t that create a scarcity in the economy of scale?” [IFAN HANDS CORA HER TEA.] CORA FENCIS “Thankyou Ifan.” IFAN FENCIS “Anything for you Cora.” [IFAN PAUSES FOR A BEAT.] “No because we’ve already factored in the differential in stock back at headquarters and counteracted the effect by pre-ordering stock at the front end of The production process.” [IFAN CROSSES TO HIS DESK. IFAN PLACES HIS CUP OF TEA ONTO THE DESK. IFAN CROSSES TO THE COUCH. IFAN FACES LIZ. IFAN FIDDLES WITH HIS SILVER RING.] IFAN FENCIS “My sister Evelyn is a D.I. in Cardiff. Her husband is the city’s Lord Mayor. Here’s the kicker though, to her the year is twenty fourteen.” LIZ CARNEGIE “She’s living in the past?” IFAN FENCIS “That’s right. Same year as Cole as a matter of fact. Which actually makes things a whole lot easier. Evelyn is the reason I joined the Temporal Force and how I met Cora. I’d be spinning my wheels if it weren’t for Cora. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” CORA FENCIS “He’s sweet isn’t he? Actually Ifan, I truly believe you and I were always meant to meet up eventually. You see Liz, our dear Ifan had plans to go to the Seminary, serve the poor through the Church of England, Welsh branch of course. Things went askew, but we do attend Sunday services in Penarth, Ifan even performs solo for the church choir. We’d probably meet up eventually.” IFAN FENCIS “Yes, my sister fell through a gravity well whilst I was meant to be minding her on a Saturday afternoon. I was sixteen, she was three. I couldn’t save her. We didn’t call her Evelyn, that was the name social services gave her in nineteen eighty four when they discovered a preschooler roaming the streets of Penarth, abandoned. Her name had been Katherine. The only means I had of getting access to her historical information and finding her was to join up for temporal service. I’m still serving the lord, only now its through maintaining the integrity of the present timeline and saving lives. Seeing how Evelyn is a D.I., a career projectory she set herself on due primarily to her foundational years in care as well as her marriage to the Lord Mayor, a man she’d never have met had she not fallen back to his time; this was always meant to be.” [IFAN PRESSES DOWN ON HIS SILVER RING. THE GREEN LED LIGHT COALESCES INTO A STREAM OF HOLOGRAGHIC AUDIO VIDEO. D.I. EVELYN WAUGH IS STOOD IN THE ROOM. EVELYN APPEARS LIKE SHE’S REALLY HERE, BUT SHE’S NOT. MID THIRTIES, EVELYN IS A BRUNETTE WELSH WOMAN.] "The Couple In Flat 22b- pilot" on Wattpad /cc: @ColeJacobDavis http://www.wattpad.com/13216305