ART BÉBÉ 2099 – Pilot scenes 9

Art Bébé says, 'Fade in:'

LASH IT!

She is marched off in single file. Two of the five militia members that had made up the checkpoint guard detail have taken the lead, while a further two follow behind. Mike So is elsewhere across the eway. She is aware that she has been riding on a high degree of adrenalin since leaving the tower. The events at the checkpoint had brought on a high additional rush. Now cuffed, and marched off, much of the adrenalin dissipating, her mood is flattening. Continuing to be marched on, she is trying to adjust, while finding herself unconsciously watching the flex of some very impressive shoulder muscle through the military coolskin of the guard immediately before her. It is a helpful distraction, and then, feeling a large, thick hand rested on her left shoulder, she is very forcibly wrenched around and brought to a swift halt. Before her is the massively built, square-shaped tenter that had been directing the auxiliary guard detail arriving in the second elevator. She hears, ‘I’ll be taking over the escort, girl. And just a warning. I’m not the type for games. That’s where you’re out of luck.’

The wind has picked up strength, along with the pollutant fall. She has her left leg down on the eway, keeping the booted foot of the other leg to the off-side footrest, and forcing Miko’s bulk against her inner left thigh. Her data goggles indicate a category 3 pollutant storm on the way in from the North Atlantic.

The tenter is easily taller than her. She finds herself staring up, a little disconcerting for her, given her own height, the black face of tenter’s tactical visor giving nothing away. The tenter sweeps a terrifyingly powerful looking arm over the eway going on to explain. ‘I convinced Mike I’m the better person for the job.’ The heavy hand is suddenly back on her shoulder. ‘And just one more thing,’ the tenter suddenly surprises her by bending to her ear. ‘You might think you’re fooling everyone around here, but not me. Those cuffs, I know they’re not actually doing anything, but perhaps better if you keep up the show. I’ll be watching close.’ And then she is wrenched back around to face the first of the parked elevators on the far side of the boom, and again shoved, but this time, under the force of the bulky tenter’s hand, almost falls, however, recovers enough to sneak a look to the side.

Miko is being approached by the three militia carrying the isolation net. Reaching Miko’s front, the group, however, stand awkwardly about, none looking particularly happy, each shuffling their booted feet, either not seeming to know exactly what to do with the net, or nervous about the consequences of deploying it.

‘Bébé,’ Miko radios, ‘May I suggest that you could have done better with your negotiations?'

‘Negotiating is a delicate art, Miko, I guess I’m still learning.’ She surprises herself with her own light heartedness, and waits, hearing back from Miko, ‘Well, now would be the time to advance above negotiations 101. Can you advise on protocol.'

The real world, she reminds herself, how much more complicated. How many simulations had they run? Every possible scenario. Yet now she feels ill prepared. ‘Miko, initiate HIB,’ she commands. It is all she can think of. The most desperate play. Maybe a copout?

‘Bébé, please repeat!’

‘Initiate HIB, Miko!'

‘Acknowledged, Bébé. Awaiting shutdown password.'

This is it, she thinks, only ever in simulation, just like everything else. And once HIB has been initiated, Miko could only be woken by the reboot password, a permanent shutdown, and she consoles herself with the only thing she can, that the tenters would gain nothing from Miko’s capture as long as she remained in HIB, it being impossible for them to break into her systems. She takes in a deep breath, and then as if any hesitation on her part would cause her to lose courage, hurriedly says, ‘Yogi Bear.'

‘Password accepted. Bébé,’ she hears. ‘Initiating hibernation.'

She feels the loss immediately. Quantum computing time (QCT). Miko is gone. It is as if one half of her has been cleaved away. She feels empty in a way that she has never known before. The simulated exercises had never been like this. A stab of panic overwhelms her as doubt sets in. She is too inexperienced. There are too many variables at play in a real-world scenario. She sets her mood-nanos lose. Another act of desperation. This helps. But not enough. Something still aches within her. She looks away from Miko, unable to understand, and focuses her thoughts back on the bulky tenter, just to have her mind somewhere else. The member’s vocal folds had portrayed feminine overtones. It hinted at them being intersex. She could learn something. Her knowledge and understanding is limited on the various sexual types. She feels the space between her shoulder blades prodded with what could only be the barrel tip of an assault rifle, and if she isn’t already moving, she is now.

They are only a few steps from the boom gate when it is raised. A .guard hut stands to the right, at the hinged end of the boom. The hut is occupied by a solidary tenter at work behind a station. Their attention is drawn to her as she is marched by the window. The guard is a young, soft-brown-skinned female, with flat-faced, delicate features, framed by black, bobbed hair. The tenter’s large brown eyes open wider seeing her, clearly very curious as to whom exactly they have in their custody. She is almost tempted to break into the hut, explaining to the guard how this is all a mistake, to please let her and Miko, she is very sorry. She feels tears, drives them back, and looks ahead. They are nearing the elevator by the eway guard railing.

The cage door opens on a black space. She measures it as two-meters-square, understanding that she will soon be inside, locked in, to be taken who knew where. Beyond the cage, are the shanty roofs of the town, and beyond, the city lights, all smudges of color struggling through the wind driven pollutants. The lead pair of tenters step inside the elevator, she follows, and as the guard groups around her she has another chance to check the eway.

The space where Miko had been is deserted. There is also no sign of the second elevator. A deep depression suddenly hits her, despite the activation of her mood-nanos, and the cage door clangs shut before her eyes. The elevator jerks, and they are descending. The extent of the elevator system is now clearly visible. The cages drop in a staggered formation from both sides of the eway. Fifty-meters separates each from its neighbor, with boarded loading platforms visible at different levels, they to gradually disappear in the thickening yellow mist rising from the swamp. The 2^nd Avenue canal be seen cutting through the swamp 180-meters below, this section of the canal, however, trafficked only by large commercial barges, the familiar soft blue of gondola lanterns nowhere visible. There is a sharp jolt as the elevator halts at a platform. The cage door slides open, and again the barrel tip of an assault rifle is thrust between her shoulder blades. She hears, ‘This is your stop girl! Step off.’ The bulky tenter pushes past, taking her by the elbow, and she is dragged onto the wooden platform.

Art Bébé says, 'Fade out.'



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