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By Cole J. Davis

GENRE: Animation, Drama, Experimental, Fantasy, Horror, Independent, Romance, Sci-fi, War
LOGLINE: A painting prodigy creates life in three realms; material, spiritual and mental. Science, fantasy and high drama are on display..


This 37 minute long introductory film begins at creation, revealing Cole's loves and disappointments.. 'Intro to the Ghost Wars complete teleplay' on Wattpad


SC1. INT. ART GALLERY - DAY [COLE JACOB BILLINGTON IS STOOD BEFORE A WHITE WALL. PAINT BRUSH IN HAND, COLE IS STOOD BEFORE A BLANK FRAMED CANVAS ATTACHED TO THE WALL.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON(V.O.) “Before stepping into his own creation, God provided hints to his creative process for those who would follow in his stead.” [COLE BEGINS PAINTING. ALTHOUGH APPEARING TO USE THE PAINT BRUSH, IT IS THROUGH THE MIND THAT COLE BRINGS THE PAINTING TO LIFE. AN IMAGE OF A FIELD OF FLOWERS FORMS WITHIN THE FRAME. THIS BEGINS AS A LINE DRAWING IN GRAPHITE.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON(V.O.) “The Garconer were one of these hints. Archetypal creative directors, they acted as muse to their Human cousins. Not content to remain in the province of creative arts, guiding Humanity from the causal plane; the Garconer moved into the province of the sciences, creating a planetary civilization on the mental plane.” [THE GRAPHITE TRANSFORMS INTO PENCIL CRAYON.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON(V.O.) “Elsewhere in time and space, a painting prodigy by the name of Cole Billington; a young man carrying recessive Garconer genes, resultant of an incident of trans dimensional travel five centuries earlier; tapped into his ancestors’ memory.” [THIS SHIFTS TO WATER COLOUR PAINTS.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON(V.O.) “From painting prodigy to best selling author to staff writer on a Welsh serial, Cole met the love of his life and greatest literary muse, Cecil Smith.” [THE IMAGE RESOLVES INTO A PHOTO.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON(V.O.) “Cecil, a transgender man, brilliant in his field of linguistics; inspired Cole across the dimensions. Cecil, Kara, Cora; the three utterly unique in temperment, but each born of the original Cecil at the core.” [THE PHOTO TRANSFORMS INTO A VIDEO. COLE STEPS INTO THE PICTURE FRAME. COLE’S ARMS AND LEGS DISSOLVE. COLE DUCKS HIS HEAD INTO THE FIELD OF FLOWERS. WE SEE COLE STOOD IN THE FIELD THROUGH THE PICTURE FRAME. WE SEE COLE NOW STOOD IN A STILL SEPIA TONED PHOTOGRAPH.] CUT TO: - SC2. INT. COLE’S CONDO - NIGHT - CARDIFF BAY - 2014 [POV. VIEW THROUGH LIVING ROOM WINDOW: HARBOUR VIEW. COLE ENTERS THE CONDO. CECIL SMITH, TRANSGENDER MAN, NON MEDICALLY TRANSITIONED, STEPS FROM THE KITCHEN. CECIL FACES THE HARBOUR. CECIL HAS SHORT, CURLY BLONDE HAIR. CECIL WEARS A BROWN MEN’S DRESS SHIRT WITH CARAMEL SLACKS.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Hello darling.” [CECIL WALKS TO COLE. COLE AND CECIL SHARE A PASSIONATE KISS.] CUT TO: - SC3. INT. CPB LOUNGE - DAY - VANCOUVER - 1928 [ROBERT CHU, LATE TWENTIES; IS STOOD IN THE CENTRE OF THE ROOM. NEXT TO ROBERT ARE STOOD DOCTOR GILLES FONTAINE, LATE FORTIES, AND DETECTIVE CALVIN EDWARDS, LATE THIRTIES. CECIL SMITH IS STOOD TO CALVIN’S LEFT. CECIL WEARS A GREY CAP, AN OFF WHITE HUDSON BAY SWEATER, DRAPED WITH A PALE RED KNIT SCARF OVER ARMY REGULATION TROUSERS.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON(V.O.) “My Cecil, he was a true gentleman.” [STOOD IN FRONT OF THE TABLE IS MAGGIE RUTLEDGE, MID THIRTIES. COLE ENTERS FROM THE CORRIDOR. COLE’S EYES CONNECT WITH CECIL’S.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Hello.” CECIL SMITH “Hello.” [COLE AND CECIL CONTINUE TO MAINTAIN EYE CONTACT. ROBERT, GILLES AND CALVIN MOVE ASIDE, ALLOWING COLE AND CECIL TO GET A BETTER LOOK AT ONE ANOTHER. GRINNING WIDELY, COLE EXTENDS A HAND.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “I’m Captain Cole Billington, you are?” [CECIL SHAKES COLE’S HAND.] CECIL SMITH “Cecil Smith, sir.” CUT TO: - SC4. EXT. EAST HASTINGS STREET BUS STOP - DAY - 2014 [SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD KARA IS SAT ON A BENCH.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON(V.O.) “A mother and child, so lost and alone. Beloved of God, a child of the state, Kara’s daughter Meagan would one day go on to become the direct matrilineal ancestor to Cole’s mother.” [A BABY CARRIAGE IS SET AT KARA’S SIDE. ONE YEAR OLD MEAGAN COOS IN THE CARRIAGE.] CUT TO: - SC5. INT. IFAN’S OFFICE - TRC- DAY - 5080 [IFAN FENCIS IS SAT ON THE COUCH WITH HIS WIFE CORA. 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. ALONG THE WALL FACING IFAN, AN EDWARDIAN TEA SERVICE IS SET ATOP A BLACK TEAK SHELF. WE HEAR A KNOCK ON THE CLOSED DOOR. IFAN JUMPS TO HIS FEET. IFAN WALKS TOWARDS HIS DESK. IFAN PLACES A HAND ATOP THE FRONT EDGE OF THE DESK.] IFAN FENCIS “Come in.” [THE DOOR OPENS, REVEALING LIZ CARNEGIE.] LIZ CARNEGIE "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." IFAN FENCIS “Would you like some tea?” [IFAN GOES TOWARDS THE TEA SERVICE.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON(V.O.) “But then things began to go wrong, warping reality in ways not meant to be.” CUT TO: - SC6. INT. BATHROOM - CONDO - NIGHT - 2014 [WE HEAR THE SHOWER RUNNING. COLE’S SHADOW IS SHOWN BEHIND THE PLASTIC DOOR. THE BATHROOM DOOR OPENS REVEALING COLE’S COMMON LAW HUSBAND PETE ROSCHILDE. PETE ENTERS. PETE WEARS COWBOY BOOTS AND A GOLD AND BLACK DRESS SHIRT. PETE GOES TO THE SINK.] PETE ROSCHILDE “Are you nearly done love, I want to brush my teeth before we go to dinner.” [THE WATER SWITCHES OFF. COLE PULLS THE PLASTIC DOOR ASIDE. COLE PEERS OUT OF THE SHOWER, HIS LOWER BODY HIDDEN.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Give me a kiss, Pete. Let’s see what the verdict is.” [PETE CROSSES TO THE SHOWER. COLE QUICKLY KISSES HIM.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Go brush your teeth.” CUT TO: - SC7. 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 whom united disaffected Human men throughout the galaxy. Taking their rage at life’s disappointments, honing it into a sword of hate; they pointed it at Garconer men around them whom were healthier, happier and brighter then they; seeking to battle the dragon that had stolen 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 London’s East End, 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, top of their class, first hired and most desirable as partners, to the lowest of the low. Now we were viewed as mere 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. THE GARCONER GASPS FOR BREATH, HIS PAIN PALPABLE. POLICE SIRENS HEAD TOWARDS THE SCENE, GETTING LOUDER AS WE CONTINUE. THE THREE ASSAILANTS RUN OFF.] CUT TO: - SC8. EXT. BILLINGTON RESIDENCE - DAY - SEASIDE VILLAGE - GARCONER COLONY - 5075 [WE’RE IN 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 TWELVE 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. THIS SECOND COLE WEARS THE UNIFORM OF A FALLEN GOD BOMBER; BLACK T-SHIRT WITH BLACK TROUSERS. ON THIS SECOND COLE’S LEFT IS A BLACK, FORMLESS SHAPE. THIS 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 COLE, KYLE AND MOTHER BILLINGTON. GRABBING KYLE, THE THREE SOLDIERS TUG HIM FROM MOTHER BILLINGTON’S GRIP. COLE STARES AT THE SOLDIERS, HATRED RADIATING OFF HIM. POV. SLOW MOTION: THERE IS SILENCE FOR A BEAT AS MOTHER BILLINGTON PLEADS SOUNDLESSLY. POV. REGULAR SPEED\AUDIO: COLE PICKS UP A LARGE ROCK FROM THE SIDE OF THE ROAD. COLE TOSSES THE ROCK 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: - SC9. 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. A CHANT ARISES; STARTING IN THE BACK, MOVING CLOSER TO THE STAGE THAT 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 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 occurred last time to occur 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: - SC10. INT. BAR - STATION OORT - OORT DISC - NIGHT - 5078 [COLE WIPES DOWN THE BAR. SAT AT TABLES ARE NUMEROUS GARCONER, HUMANS, STORNAWAY, GROTTO AND SENATORIAL INCUBI. IN THE BACKGROUND, WE SEE THE EXIT INTO THE MARKET AREA OF THE STATION. ACROSS THE BAR, A WINDOW REVEALS A FEW DIM STARS SPARKLING LIKE QUASARS. JAMES ANDERSON, A GARCONER MAN STEPS UP TO THE BAR. JAMES IS TALL, SLIM; WITH DARK GREY SKIN] JAMES ANDERSON “I know who you are.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “I’ve been here a while, I’m sure you’ve seen me around.” JAMES ANDERSON “How’s it going, COE2009?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “You’ve got the wrong man.” JAMES ANDERSON “I don’t think I do; your mother’s been looking for you.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “What do you know about my mother?” JAMES ANDERSON “Nothing much, just that they’ve taken her in for questioning. She’s gone on record; asking you to turn yourself in. You didn’t know?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “No, I didn’t. Shit! I’ve been out of the loop, staying offline and under the radar. Do I need to be worried about you knowing who I am; what’s your name?” JAMES ANDERSON “James; and no, I won’t say a word.” CUT TO: - SC11. 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.) “All that devastation that lay waste to my past could have been averted had things been different. The year Fifty, fifty five was when it all changed for the worse. A single man can light a spark creating a firestorm 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 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 ITS DESCENT 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. Humanity’s 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 re-growth development; solving our skyrocketing cost of caring for the physically disabled nearly overnight. The era of wheelchair confinement for an entirety of a lifetime was long past; due to the intellectual knowledge of the Stornaway. The Incubi brought us guidance on creating true equality between the sexes, and 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 span of half a millennia and our minds rivalling Humanity’s greatest scientists.” [LIZ STOPS BEFORE A FISH AND CHIP CARAVAN SET UP IN FRONT OF THE WATER.] CUT TO: - SC12. INT. NATIONAL MUSEUM OF ART - CARDIFF - DAY - 2014 [PETE IS STOOD BEFORE COLE’S PAINTING. DONE IN ACRYLIC, THE IMAGE IS A CLOSE UP OF CHARN, SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD GROTTO INCUBI. THE COLOURS ARE IN BASE RED. BEHIND CHARN, THREE GROTTO FEMALES IN THE FORM OF EVELYN WAUGH, LIZ CARNEGIE AND CORA FENCIS ARE STOOD ON A HILL IN THE BACKGROUND. IN THE TOP RIGHT CORNER OF THE PAINTING, A POSEIDON STAFF IS RAISED TOWARDS THE SKY, HELD ALOFT BY A GARCONER MAN. PETE GAZES AT THE PAINTING OF CHARN. COLE IS STOOD TO PETE’S LEFT. PETE POINTS TOWARDS THE POSEIDON‘S TRIDENT IN THE PAINTING.] PETE ROSCHILDE “What was this bit supposed to infer?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Utnapishtim, the Guardian of the waters of life in the Quran; the Babylonian version of Noah whom took on the mantle of cosmic Azael, forced to eternally live in seclusion away from the rest of mankind in return for surviving the flood. Then there was Og, last of the Amorite Giants, presumably a Hydelbergensis said to catch a ride on Noah’s ark. You Pete, being the architect that you are, are represented by Gilgamesh who sought to study under Utnapishtim.” [COLE POINTS TO THE TINY FIGURE WITH EVELYN’S FORM.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “This woman here, your female aspect compiled the biography of Charn throughout his lifetime.” CUT TO: - SC13. EXT. HARBOUR FRONT - NIGHT [HARBOUR MASTER STEWART GRIMWALD IS STOOD IN FRONT OF A TROLLEY OF TACKLE BOXES AND FISHING FLIES. SEVERAL BOATS ARE ANCHORED NEARBY.] IFAN FENCIS(V.O.) “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(V.O.) “She’s living in the past?” [D.I. EVELYN WAUGH, MID THIRTIES, WEARING A GREY, WOOL JACKET; WANDERS PAST THE SHORELINE.] IFAN FENCIS(V.O.) “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(V.O.) “He’s sweet isn’t he?” IFAN FENCIS(V.O.) “My sister fell through a gravity well; 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.” [EVELYN APPROACHES STEWART.] D.I. EVELYN WAUGH “Hello Stewart. I got your message. I need you to tell me exactly what you heard this afternoon, word for word.” STEWART GRIMWALD “Yes, right. I was stood right here unloading inventory, tackle boxes, fishing flies; that sort of thing. When oh maybe ten men motored up in a high end, flashy boat. The sort used by drug smugglers. Then five men in black uniforms met these folks at the water’s edge. One of them gave the fellows in the boat a wad of money and some sort of strange device. It was glass with some sort of pump inside. Its hard to explain. Then they motored back into the open sea and I lost sight of the men in uniform.” D.I. EVELYN WAUGH “That’s not much to go on Stewart.” STEWART GRIMWALD “I know, sorry about that ma’am.” D.I. EVELYN WAUGH “You did your best Stewart. I’ll see what turns up.” CUT TO: - SC14. EXT. THE DORIAN GRAY GENTLEMEN’S CLUB - NIGHT - GAS TOWN - 1913 [YOUNG COUPLES ARE OUT ON THE TOWN. WE’RE ON GRANVILLE STREET. COLE HEADS SOUTH, DOWN THE STREET. COLE IS DRESSED TO THE NINES. COLE STROLLS UP TO THE CLUB’S ENTRANCE. TYRONE, A FORMER ITERATION OF PETE; IS STOOD TO COLE’S RIGHT. TYRONE SMOKES A CIGAR. TWO MEN STROLL PAST THE CLUB. COLE REMAINS STOOD OUTSIDE THE CLUB.] TYRONE “Warm night, isn’t it?” [COLE NODS TOWARDS THE NEARBY ALLEY TO THE SOUTH.] TYRONE “Things are certainly looking up, aren’t they my friend?” [COLE AND TYRONE HEAD TOWARDS THE ALLEY. COLE AND TYRONE DISAPPEAR FROM SIGHT.] CUT TO - SC15. EXT. ALLEY - GRANVILLE STREET - NIGHT - 1913 [COLE APPROACHES TYRONE. COLE PUSHES TYRONE BACK AGAINST THE BRICK WALL OF THE NEXT BUILDING. NIGHT TURNS TO DAY. ACROSS THE WAY, WE SEE THE CPB’S COMPANY HORSE AND CARRIAGE. TWO RCMP OFFICERS ARE STOOD NEAR THE ENTRANCE TO THE ALLEY. COLE, EMILY, DOCTOR BLAINE GIANCOMO AND CHARLIE DENTON STEP DOWN FROM THE CARRIAGE. COLE, EMILY, BLAINE AND CHARLIE CROSS TO MEET THE OFFICERS.] CHARLIE DENTON “How many murders has this guy committed now?” CONSTABLE SMITHERS “Guy appears to be changing his MO. Whomever he is.” CHARLIE DENTON “How so?” CONSTABLE SMITHERS “For a start, the latest victim isn’t a young man; on top of that, there’s plenty of cash left in his wallet.” DOCTOR BLAINE GIANCOMO “It wasn’t about money, then.” CONSTABLE SMITHERS “I suppose not.” CHARLIE DENTON “Can we see the body?” [CONSTABLE SMITHERS STEPS ASIDE. TYRONE’S CORPSE IS PROPPED UP AGAINST THE WALL OF THE BUILDING. CHARLIE HEADS INTO THE ALLEY. CHARLIE TAKES A LOOK AT THE CORPSE. BENDING DOWN, CHARLIE RETRIEVES TYRONE’S WALLET. CHARLIE FLIPS THROUGH TYRONE’S WALLET. COLE BACKS AWAY TOWARDS THE STREET.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Oh God. Oh God." CUT TO: - SC16. INT. CPB MAIN ROOM - DAY - 1913 [THROUGH THE AJAR DOOR OF THE DIRECTOR’S OFFICE, WE SEE CHARLIE SAT AT HIS DESK. EMILY IS SAT AT HER DESK NEAREST TO CHARLIE‘S OFFICE, DOING THE BOOKKEEPING. LEANING OVER EMILY’S DESK, BLAINE IS STOOD NEXT TO HER. COLE ENTERS FROM THE LOUNGE. ON HIS HEAD, COLE SPORTS A FEDORA WITH A FEATHER IN ITS BRIM.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Hello Emily, Doctor." CHARLIE DENTON(O.O.V.) "Captain." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Charles." [BLAINE STRAIGHTENS UP. CHARLIE STEPS INTO THE CORRIDOR FROM HIS OFFICE.] EMILY "You’re just the man we were speaking of." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Good things, I hope." [CHARLIE STEPS INTO THE ROOM.] CHARLIE DENTON "Actually; we were debating the merits of your theatrical skills." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Excuse me?" [EMILY GETS TO HER FEET. STEPPING CLOSE TO COLE, EMILY PLACES A HAND AGAINST HIS HEART.] EMILY "There's trouble down by the Hastings Mill. The city's vagrants have made a lot of noise pertaining to some monster preying on them." [COLE RUNS A HAND ALONG EMILY’S ARM.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Oh?” [STEPPING FORWARD, CHARLIE HANDS COLE A STACK OF PAGES.] CHARLIE DENTON "We need you to go undercover amongst the hard luck cases, make them believe you are one of them, get their trust." EMILY "Shouldn't be too hard, I should think." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “You want to dirty me up a bit, Emily?” EMILY “I doubt that needs to be a two person affair, Captain.” [COLE SMIRKS.] CUT TO: - SC17. INT. BLACK CABANA - NIGHT - GAS TOWN - 1986 [COLE IS SAT AT THE BAR. REBECCA JONES ENTERS FROM RICHARDS STREET. WE SEE LIGHT RAIN THROUGH THE OPENING DOOR. EARLY FORTIES, REBECCA HAS BIG EIGHTIES HAIR AND BOOTS WITH HEELS. REBECCA TAKES A SEAT NEXT TO COLE.] REBECCA JONES(SOUTHERN WELSH ACCENT) “We need to be on the move Captain. There’s been reports of a bizarre sexual encounter with something, not quite human.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON Come on Rebecca. It’s my night off. Besides; this sounds like some sort of drug fuelled hallucination. I'll grant you, it could be a case of non-con, be that as it may; give it to the local municipal cops to handle." REBECCA JONES "Cole, you are full of surprises." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "How's that?" REBECCA JONES "I thought the phrase 'bizarre sexual encounter' at least would peak your interest." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Ah, so this is a pity the freak moment, eh? I do have more than a one track mind, you know Rebecca. When are you people going to grow up? My Goodness woman, it's nineteen eighty six. I’m getting bloody sick and tired of this. You know, sometimes I really do miss my own time, where I could be myself without having snide jokes thrown my way on a daily basis. I may have been hated due to my half Garconer heritage; at least I didn't have to fear being knocked down for whom I liked to take to my bed. I had the respect of the galactic community for pairing with Horatio Domini. Everyone loved Horatio, he was one of a kind, a true star. But not now. Now, I've got to live through it all. I've got to face the scorn and the derision on a daily basis. That's not even including you folks at the Commonwealth Protection Bureau, and your 'kick the freak' party games. Sometimes I really wish things were different. Come on then. If we're going do this, then let's do it now." [COLE GETS TO HIS FEET. COLE HELPS REBECCA DOWN AS WELL.] REBECCA JONES "And the rest was silence." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Come on then, where's this sexually rambunctious alien of yours Rebecca?" REBECCA JONES "It's not my alien, Cole." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Of course not. What was I thinking? It's not your alien, it's the property of the CPB. After all, we can't just leave things be, can we? Isn't that right, Rebecca?" REBECCA JONES "Don't take your dark mood out on me, Captain. I was not hired to deal with your rotten attitude. All I've ever done was try to be your friend. You've done nothing but give me the cold shoulder from day one. I don't know what I've done to earn your wrath. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you don’t like the Welsh. But knowing your history, how it was the people of northern Wales who fought the good fight to save the lives of your people, I know that can’t be it. I'm a good person; I don't deserve this, Cole. You need to get your act together, stop pissing on where you work. I'm sorry you're lonely. I feel bad that you're home sick, and I know you miss Cecil. But that's life Cole, people die. You have to stop pushing everyone away. Shutting out anyone who could be your friend, perhaps make your life a little more worth living, and help you forget, for just a bit how alone you truly feel." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "That's what you're after, eh Rebecca? Sorry, not going happen. I'm not interested. Not this time. Not as long as you work for the CPB. I'm not going there again. I've been burned too many times by dipping into the company ink. It's just not worth it. As for why? You know why, you know my history, you know I've had just about enough for any human being to crack. I'm not putting myself through that ever again. It's just too much. First I lose my gorgeous, sweet Emily to the flu of all things. Then Cecil gets transferred to Ottawa, and finally passes into the great beyond. Cecil understood me in ways nobody else ever could; he knew what it was like to be considered a freak. Now he’s gone, forever. You want to go around thinking that I'm a bastard for not caring? I can't afford to care. Life continues on, passing me by, while I stay the same, never changing for decades, so I'm just left in the dust, whilst everyone around me becomes just that- dust.” REBECCA JONES "Oh Cole, I don‘t think you‘re a bastard. I know you aren‘t. You wouldn’t be in so much pain if you were. It's hard, isn't it; being so far from home?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Where I come from, I‘d be considered a mere child, when the average full blood Garconer lives for five centuries or more. Of course, half my parents’ generation were killed by Human raiders, so it was probably shortened to three centuries, come to think of it.” REBECCA JONES “I wish I knew how to help you Cole. I wish you’d finally realize that people do care about you, that they want to make your life better." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Don't. Just don't. I don't want to talk about it Rebecca. This was supposed to be my night off. I didn't figure on spending it chasing down an alien on the prowl." REBECCA JONES "Alright, alright. If you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to talk about it." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Much obliged." REBECCA JONES "I just want you to know Cole, that if you ever need to talk to someone, I'll be there. And really Captain, as much as your huge ego would like to protest anything less, I'm really not interested. You're too high maintenance for my tastes." [COLE GRABS A HANDFUL OF PEANUTS FROM A JAR ATOP THE BAR. COLE SHOVES A FEW PEANUTS IN HIS MOUTH.] REBECCA JONES "Oh Cole! Were you born in a barn? Seriously, the lack of manners I've seen you display is simply atrocious." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "You'd never know, would you?" REBECCA JONES "You can't be serious. What was I saying a moment ago about you being too high maintenance? Strike that, what was I ever thinking?" COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Rebecca, don't take it so hard. You know me, you need to take everything I say with a grain of salt." REBECCA JONES “You know Cole, people do talk.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Eh?” [COLE SHOVES ANOTHER HANDFUL OF PEANUTS IN HIS MOUTH.] REBECCA JONES “I heard a rumour from a little bird that beneath that rough exterior of this vicious Queen act you’ve been pulling off for the last little while, is actually a very nice Human Being.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “That’s half Human, thank you very much. And that guy’s gone. Wasting energy pretending to be kind just isn’t worth it any more.” REBECCA JONES “I don’t believe that for a second. I’ll be waiting for that decent man to come back. I know he will, Cole. Everyone changes, nothing remains the same. Otherwise, what would be the point?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “You do that Rebecca, but you’ll be waiting an awful long time.” REBECCA JONES “That’s alright. I’m willing to wait, I’m a patient woman, because’ I know he’s in there somewhere, hiding from the world; just waiting to reappear when he feels ready to rejoin the Human race. His part in it, anyways.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “How sweet. I think someone’s got herself a crush. Let's go." [COLE PASSES THE TABLE OF WOMEN. A MIDDLE EASTERN WOMAN GIGGLES AS COLE WINKS AT HER.] REBECCA JONES "Cole, give it a rest, why don't you? This is the reason why the two of us would never work out. You have the attention span of a gnat. How any of your exes ever managed to put up with you, I'll never know." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Oh now, we were having such a lovely time of it. You're just jealous, you want me Rebecca. Go on, tell the truth. I won‘t judge." REBECCA JONES "Believe what you want Captain. Meanwhile, out there in the real world, there's an alien on the loose." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Rebecca, Rebecca, Rebecca. What would I ever do without you, eh?" REBECCA JONES "Lose your head, most likely." COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "Don't even joke about that." CUT TO: - SC18. EXT. TEMPORAL RESEARCH CO-OP - DAY - YALE TOWN - VANCOUVER - 5080 [THE INITIALS ‘T.R.C.’ 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 OF BRITISH COLUMBIA PAUL MATHESON STEPS FROM 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 are derived directly from the information we were given by 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 up 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 found what they were looking for. All those people died for a false flag operation against our 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 the ability to keep the Black Brigade in line. Three millennia ago, we dealt with Human terrorists who’d blow themselves up, taking hundreds of others with them. Now we have beings whom have the ability to change the course of history by travelling back to assassinate people whom weren’t meant to die at that point. Unlike 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.” CUT TO: - SC19. INT. CPB MAIN ROOM - DAY - 2014 [IN THE CENTRE OF THE ROOM IS STOOD A LONG, NARROW WOODEN TABLE. COLE ENTERS FROM THE LOUNGE.] 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, A SECOND 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 LONGFELLOW ENTERS FROM THE LOUNGE. BRITTANY IS A SQUAMISH FIRST NATIONS WOMAN IN HER LATE TWENTIES. BRITTANY IS 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.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON "By the way Brittany, if by any chance you’re interested in adding ultra terrestrial longevity to your doctoral study, you’d want to speak to Michel Llandroff out of Chilchester, Treasurer to the Welsh, English, Scottish, Quantum Geological Ordinance Team. He’s a rather attractive man in his late forties; son of the Earl of some midlands’ Duchy and 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 to tectonic plates. As with geological movements in the planet’s interior, there can be disruption in the quantum membrane separating 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 refuse sent onto the planet.” BRITTANY LONGFELLOW “How long has this sort of thing been going on?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “As long as the planet has existed, I presume. Ultra-terrestrials, historically referred to as Fae lay claim to the planet’s etheric, mental, astral and source layers. The British Isles have the most intercommunication between us and them due to Britain’s position as Top Dog in the majority of the layers. North America lays claim to this unfortunate honour on the Astral layer. I say unfortunate because the astral deals in illusion. They are the instigators behind the curtain, possessing druggies and dealers; the anti-gentrification activists whom want to turn the already beleaguered east end into even more of a hell zone than it already is. Like London’s East End during the Ghost Wars of the fifty first century. Like the Tottenham riots of twenty eleven. I knew that was going to happen, not because I remembered it from history, but because of the Stanley Cup riots that June. I had this feeling that August would bring London riots, and thought, ‘that’s silly, Londoners are much too civilized for that.’ I was stunned when my instincts were proven correct.” BRITTANY LONGFELLOW “It shouldn’t be too much of a shock sir. Cole is old Welsh for shaman, wise man, and joker.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Yep, I’m a jester in a box, popping up from nowhere, headless because my heritage cannot be traced. Travelling the slow path back towards my own time, ascending forwards along Jacob’s ladder; my hand out in supplication to the great intelligence, Prime Creator, his form contracting into nothing more than a mind inside a giant head.” BRITTANY LONGFELLOW “Bringer of enjoyment.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “The jester becomes the face of God, the bringer of enjoyment. Then we have the opposite of enjoyment, despair; bringing us back to Abbaddon’s nefarious plans involving 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 takes the image of a particular celebrity, creating a holographic animae in their image, placing a Fallen God into the astral body. This causes the victim to black out whilst this entity claiming 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. As the entity is in reality a Fallen God refusing source’s love, 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 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. The majority of the subtle layers of our gorgeous planet contains millions of sentient species living in relative peace, reaching ever higher in pursuit of knowledge and culture in the most loving of manners. Whilst the astral is a blood strewn empire ruled with a brutal hand and an iron fist. The Top Dogs are warlords millions of years in age, holding court over the newly deceased brainwashed by servants of the Fallen into denying 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, unable to remove themselves from the lower planes and return to source’s embrace, quickly find themselves in chains, held in stone 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’ firewall and manpower. Which is why the claim by Project Camelot of sending Obama through time and through space is beyond ridiculous. We‘ve got the most advanced temporal program on the planet in London, we’re still at the remote viewing stage; how would the Americans manage it?” DOCTOR REGINALD DESMOIRE “Wishful thinking I suppose.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “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 as all sentient species evolved from the cosmic soup of their own home worlds. We don’t need to muddy the waters, give credence to claims of 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; not.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “You are so nineties Bailey. But you’re right; one never knows when obsession could lead to murder. Garner one crazed fan claiming to be your Twin Flame, others are sure to follow in their wake. Especially in these days of twitter, with the supposed Twin Flame broadcasting their intent for the entire planet to read. Others come to think, why is this person the luckiest person on the planet on their say so, why can’t I be the luckiest one instead? If everyone keeps their fantasies to themselves, nobody is put through the torment of jealousy and coveting that which is not theirs to covet.” DOCTOR BAILEY O’BANNION “That’s known as the Law of Silence. When you broadcast a belief, you give others the right to dispute it.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Like moths to a flame, celebrities attract devotees like Gods; 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; the reverence of fans, fan 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 this cult has been stalking her chosen celebrity obsession, a married gay man. He is a cutie; but I do have a theory that the woman in question is merely a P.R. stunt perpetrated by Mister Celeb. Mere publicity, to promote his own bizarre cult without ruining his reputation or as means to talk to people on the internet via a character. 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. 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 protective measure, insuring the woman wouldn’t be 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 clout needed to make a 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 “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 your head above the crowd, the reptilian and mammalian brain below our more modern primate, Hominid and sentient brain regions fear being plucked up by a bird of prey or taken down by a lion. Each 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. Back to work.” [COLE HEADS FOR HIS OFFICE. SAT ON THE TABLE, WE SEE A CARDBOARD BOX. THE BOX IS FILLED WITH FUTURISTIC AND OFF WORLD GIZMOS AS WELL AS HISTORICAL RELICS. SERA RIFLES THROUGH THE CARDBOARD BOX. COLE ENTERS FROM THE CORRIDOR OUTSIDE HIS OFFICE. WE SEE SAMUEL PETERS, 22, MEDICAL INTERN. 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 AS REGINALD TURNS TO FACE HIM.] COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “There’s got to be a means of tracking these objects through 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 accident. Perhaps an energetic catastrophe ripped 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 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.” CUT TO: - SC20. INT. PRODUCTION WAREHOUSE - DAY - CARDIFF - 2014 [COLE ENTERS THE WAREHOUSE. ON COLE’S LEFT, THE OPENING CREDITS FOR IRISH SKIES FLASHES ACROSS A TV SCREEN. REGINALD WALKS UP TO COLE, SCRIPT IN HAND.] REGINALD DESMOIRE “Cole, I’ve allotted you episode ten, the drama controller loved what you did with episode three. In one word, ‘BAFTA’.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “I like the sound of that Reg.” REGINALD DESMOIRE “I hear you’ve got the local Waterstone book signing for book seven to ‘The Ghost Wars’ tomorrow evening. Good luck.” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “Sure.” CUT TO: - SC21. INT. CPB MAIN ROOM - DAY - VANCOUVER - 2014 [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 TYPES 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. Alright people, back to work. Sera, can you take over here? I’ve got tax forms to fill out for Ottawa. Bloody red tape, takes all the fun out of being the big cheese.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Are you saying you’re cheesy Cole?” COLE JACOB BILLINGTON “I sure am.” CUT TO: - SC22. INT. RASMUSSEN RESIDENCE - NIGHT - NORTH VANCOUVER - 2014 [SERA IS STOOD AT A MARBLE WHITE STOVE. SERA STIRS A POT OF STEAMED PEROGIES. SERA’S HAIR IS PULLED BACK INTO A PONYTAIL. TO SERA’S LEFT, WE SEE PAST A KITCHEN ISLAND INTO THE LIVING ROOM. GERALD ENTERS THE KITCHEN.] GERALD RASMUSSEN “Hi honey, I’m home!” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Hello yourself, Mister Movie producer.” GERALD RASMUSSEN “Don’t mock hun; I’ll make it big some day.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “I’m sure you will dear; just keep looking at the bright side of life.” GERALD RASMUSSEN “Hmm, the food smells great. To what do I owe this good fortune?” [GERALD COMES UP BEHIND SERA. GERALD GIVES SERA A PECK ON THE CHEEK.] CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “You know me Ger; this is how I cheer myself up from a hard days’ work, cooking my husband his favourite meal.” [GERALD RUBS SERA’S SHOULDERS.] GERALD RASMUSSEN “Let me guess, Billington’s up to his old tricks again?” [SERA ARCHES BACK INTO GERALD’S CARESS.] CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “God that feels good. Cole’s a real handful, that’s for sure.” GERALD RASMUSSEN “Y’know Sera, I really don’t like the sound of that.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Oh, p’shaw, you know I don’t mean it like that Gerald.” GERALD RASMUSSEN “You better not.” CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Oh, you.” [SERA MOVES TO GIVE GERALD A SEARING KISS. THE POT ON THE STOVE BOILS OVER. GERALD TURNS SERA TOWARDS THE STOVE.] GERALD RASMUSSEN “Watch it!” [SERA RUSHES TO DEAL WITH THE PEROGIES.] CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Look at you, distracting me; you naughty, naughty man.” GERALD RASMUSSEN “Yep that’s me baby, I’m bad to the bone.” [SERA SWITCHES OFF THE STOVE TOP BURNER, ALLOWING THE POT TO SIMMER. GERALD MOVES UP BEHIND SERA, WRAPPING HIS ARMS ABOUT HER WAIST. GERALD WHISPERS IN SERA’S EAR. SERA GIGGLES IN DELIGHT. SERA PLAYFULLY BATS GERALD’S ARM AWAY.] CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Oh, you.” [SERA TURNS TO FACE GERALD. SERA CUPS GERALD’S FACE, PLANTING A KISS ON HIS LIPS. HEADING TO THE STOVE, SERA REMOVES THE POT OF PEROGIES FROM THE BURNER.] GERALD RASMUSSEN “Have I told you lately just how much I truly love you babe?” [SERA DRAINS THE PEROGIES INTO A SKIMMER OVER THE BLACK MARBLE SINK.] CONSTABLE SERA RASMUSSEN “Right back at ya, Ger.” CUT TO: - SC23. INT. IFAN’S OFFICE - TRC- DAY - 5080 [IFAN IS STOOD WITH CORA IN FRONT OF HIS DESK. [LIZ IS SAT ON THE COUCH.] LIZ CARNEGIE “So who exactly are the Black Brigade then?” IFAN FENCIS “They’re future members of my own species, Incubi. I’m physiologically Human mostly. Human reproduction system and Human digestive system. But I do have traces of Grotto and Senatorial molecular genetic markers from my ancestors six generations back. This is why they targeted Cole, and why Cole and Horatio spend four decades living in Unity City on Incuba five. He senses the future connection to the Grotto. Backwards as well, since he was once a well respected Grotto known as Charn whom led a revolution against his species’ oppressors the Senatorial. This occurred oddly enough, concurrent to the time when the Romans were mistreating their Jewish subjects in the province of Judaea. In the year sixty six common era, Jewish subjects began to revolt against their Roman rulers. A revolt which unfortunately failed, devastating their culture and people. Nine hundred and eighty five villages were destroyed and a forerunner to the Nazi era occurred. In comparison, the Grotto were successful in gaining their freedom, a moment in history celebrated even in my day. The equality underlying the Galactic Alliance owes its very existence to Charn the comfort boy. Much credit must also go to Evelyn, whom in that incarnation played the role of Josephus to Charn’s revolution. As Josephus wrote of the early Christians, my sister chronicled the battle for species equality.” CORA FENCIS “The Black Brigade originate far in the future, nobody knows when. They began attempts at fixing things they didn’t like about history, and history fought back. They became warped, they were spitting in the face of all that is. They went back to Incuba Five’s most ancient days, plucked up society’s outcasts; used their misery as a Damocles’ blade. Nothing was left but rage. I’m not quite sure how they became regenerative immortals.” IFAN FENCIS “Whilst they were at it, they instigated the Evolutionary Wars by creating the Ashtar Progressive Party long ago. Hydelbergensis began experimenting with genetically modified crops and offspring. Lacking spiritual knowledge of sacred geometry, they failed to follow guidelines inherent to creation. Their offspring developed issues with their pituitary glands, leading to giantism and spinal abnormalities. Neander were a peaceful, spiritual group that tended to rub archaic mankind the wrong way. Like those on the autistic spectrum. Neander meshed science with spirituality in a perfectly balanced way. Unlike Hydelbergensis, they followed proper spiritual guidelines in reference to sacred geometry. They didn’t genetically modify their foodstuffs, for their bodies were incredibly sensitive, as are those on the autistic spectrum.” CORA FENCIS “Archaic mankind had weapons; they were prepared to use them against both Hydelbergensis and Neander. To do this, they needed to wage a war of propaganda; they needed their people to truly believe these groups were despised by God and incredibly evil. Over hundreds of thousands of years, they waged a war, knocking society into the stone ages. They left their descendents hate propaganda, referring to Hydelbergensis as demons, Titans, Fallen Angels, Giants and Nephilim. This guaranteed that when ancient Israelites came across villages of Hydelbergensis, they believed they had God’s permission to massacre them. It was utter and complete annililation of a sentient species. The victims became oppressors, becoming victims once more.” LIZ CARNEGIE “Now that we’ve returned to the same level of high tech society, our collective memories switch on.” IFAN FENCIS “We know now not to make the same mistakes. Because we only have a single Human species left on the planet, the source has sent us the Galactic Alliance, returning our world to a four species stewardship. By developing a unity consciousness, the Divisionists have been placed on the defensive, and we’re back into a hot war.” CUT TO: - SC24. EXT. GOWER STREET, UCL BLOOMSBURY CAMPUS - DAY - 2014 [CALVIN PRITCHARD, ADMINISTRATOR TO THE TIME LINE INVESTIGATION UNIT, WALKS NORTH TOWARDS BEDFORD WAY. CALVIN IS IN HIS MID THIRTIES, SLIM, WITH CURLY BLOND HAIR. 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.] END OF PRESENTATION.

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