Tuesday, 4 December 2012

Writing exercise No.002. - A bit of sci-fi

The outline of the following was based on a scene in a sci-fi spec script I wrote over a year ago, reading it again this morning it feels a little "jerky" but I'm posting it anyway.
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Inside it was dark, a stale smell of fuel mixed with sawdust hung in the air. Feint shafts of light from high blacked out windows gave the impression that this could be a disused warehouse, but it was hard to tell, the lack of light gave little away. What was clear, the place was desolate and probably had been for years, the only evidence of life was the occasional scuttling noises of the usual rodent squatters from behind the shadows of piles of oversized empty boxes and old industrial wire reels. But someone, or something had been here, and recently too.

In the center of this dingy deserted place was an old decorating table, on top like a beacon sat a laptop, screen glowing that ominous green, casting an eerie halo around the table. Dust particles, otherwise hidden in the dark, danced in the artificial light.

A green oblong cursor flashed intermittently on the screen, followed by a short flurry of numerical formula scrolling up the screen, the cursor paused, catching its pixilated breath for a second before another numerical dash. During these short bursts a device that can only be described as a modified cell phone, lit up with flashing orange lights and emitted tiny beeping sounds. Half the LCD screen was missing, revealing the circuit board inside, attached to this were wires and strange looking connectors, in fact the entire table was riddled with electronics, some devices recognizable, others, shall we say, were distinctly alien.

One device stood alone in the center of the tangle of wires and circuit boards. A smooth, very shiny, black box, slightly larger than a Rubik’s cube, seemingly seamless, sat proudly and surprisingly dust-free on the work surface. A small circumference around it had deliberately been cleared of the electronic mess, giving the impression that this was important, this was what all the chaos was for, this was their baby. Oddly, amongst all of the clutter was something so normal and so out of place it seemed that it almost held the same esteem as the black box, it was an apple, a green apple, with a bite taken out of it.

The silence of the warehouse was broken by an industrial metal door banging shut and footsteps echoing as they approached the box, their baby, their reason for living. A slender hand, possibly female, human at least, reached towards the black object on the table. Smoothly, precisely, but without haste, gently stroked a very particular spot on the side of the box. Instantly the box reacted, like a soda bottle opening it hissed and the top two centimeters of the box lowered like an electric car window, a bright blinding white light shone out.

The anonymous hands glided over to the laptop, and began typing on the keyboard at furious speed, punctuated by a deliberate and almost dramatic tap on the enter key. For a split second nothing moved, nothing happened. Then, a deluge of text scrolled up the screen, slowing only very briefly, enough to see the text was hundreds, possibly thousands, of names, people’s names, real names. Simultaneously the black shiny beloved box began to turn on its axis, slowly at first, then gaining momentum as the screen flashed fluorescent green life in seconds, until the box was almost no longer visible, just a blur of light and shimmering metal. Then, and only then, she spoke, quite monotone, emotionless, yet defiant somehow.

“It’s time. Let the purge begin”

 Her hand hovered over the table, looking for something, needing something, then, swiftly, ravenously, grabbed the apple, a bite and subsequent munching ensued.

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