ART BÉBÉ 2099 - Pilot intro

Art Bébé says, 'Fade in:'

LASH IT!

Climbing the stairs, she catches sight of the rain. Lit a silver sheen by the moon, it streaks across the windows, glittering like the call of mercury streamers. Then at last she is through the roof hatch and upon the green and brown splotched concrete, the steamy rain and blow of arctic pollutants such that she feels as if the call of streamers has betrayed her. But she is happy. She stands on the roof of the BAAL tower. One hundred and twelve stories below lies the world she will conquer. And she will do so without reservation because the world has made her for this very job, fashioning her from alloyed steel, the chip, and the womb of humanity. She is not evolution but destiny. She crosses over the rooftop, the neuralwhip trailing, and comes to a stop with one leg to the roof edge, the whip to curl around her as she looks out. Certain people in this city will come to earn her endorsement, others to feel the sting of her whip, her primary weapon. She will look for both, and she will start tonight, because it is almost already too late, or perhaps because the very lateness of the hour has made it the crucible. It is time for Art Bébé. She will give birth to the 22nd century. Time to transcend.

Art Bébé says, 'Fade out.'




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