— Akil N. DeBerry
— Akil N. DeBerry
— Akil N. DeBerry
Apparently believing the whole world on your shoulders is entirely different from realizing that same fact. I’m a writer; salvation lies within the keystrokes, but woe; there to lies damnation. “Every one of my books had killed me a little more.” - Norman Mailer. Why would you aspire to greatness in a thing, in the bending of words, all the while knowing it to be your undoing? Love I suppose. I does tend to make the insanest notions, all the more sane. “I am a man brimming, whose own relief of burden lies solely within the fathoms of his own spring. Maddening it is to be the fool who wallows ill, while cure waits beyond all reach; lovingly between fingers.” - Akil N. De Berry… Each word a stone, each completion a hill? Sisyphus you had it easy my friend! Well back to writing.
In these final days of April I’m taking the time out to rewrite a short film I wrote over a year ago. Rewriting in April, planning the shoot in May, and shooting in June.
One of my favorite parts, self induced madness! The lucky bastard! It’s a writer’s thing!
“Muse” A Short Film written by Akil N. DeBerry. Scenes “To Wake,” and “The Lady in Red.” Revision 1.0 (UNEDITED)
INT./EXT. CAR/BEACH HOUSE DRIVEWAY - MORNING
Viewing out of the back window, to behind the car, Jordan
and the Young Lady are seen hugging then kissing.
Reluctantly the Young Lady turns from Jordan and walks to
the car, getting in the back seat.
YOUNG LADY’S FRIEND 1 O.S.
Was he everything you needed!
That, and everything more… he
was what I’ve always wanted!
YOUNG LADY’S FRIEND 2
Well that’s good, but we’re on our
way back to reality, so get ready
for the shock.
The Young Lady nods in agreement, then reaches into her top
pulling out her SLIVER CHAIN.
I know… you’re right.
Taking her chain from around her neck, she takes off the
WEDDING RING that hangs on it. Slowly she puts it on her
It was a dream… and from dreams
we all must wake.
INT. JORDAN’S HOUSE - COMPUTER ROOM - MORNING
Jordan sits at his computer, eyes closed and facing the
window next to him.
The Young Lady’s face edged by morning light.
Jordan opens his eyes and smiles, turning to his computer he
begins to write.
INT. JORDAN’S HOUSE - COMPUTER ROOM - DAY
Pulling back from his computer, Jordan looks at the computer
screen in frustration, till a small hand comes up from O.S.
and brushes his cheek.
YOUNG LADY (O.S.)
Keep going… no matter what!
Jordan takes the small hand and kisses it’s palm, then
places his forehead in her palm. Taking a deep breath, he
picks up his head, kisses her hand again, places the hand on
his chest, then begins to write.
INT. JORDAN’S HOUSE - COMPUTER ROOM - DAY
Jordan sits at his desk in front of his computer, writing
and scribbling on a piece of paper, writing and slashing
through words, his head shaking as he does.
With a curse Jordan balls up the paper and throws the paper
at the computer screen.
Slouching back in his chair defeated, till two slim arms
come down from O.S., slowly draping over his shoulders,
hands meeting on Jordan’s chest as the chin of a Young Lady
rest atop of his head, only her nose and mouth visible in
YOUNG LADY (O.S.)
Shhh. You can do this. Take a
breath… all my faith is yours,
you are all, I believe in.
INT. JORDAN’S HOUSE - COMPUTER ROOM - NIGHT
Jordan shakes his head then drops his face into hands, his
elbows on the desk in front of him. His body trembles and he
shakes his head.
From O.S. a Young Lady steps backwards and sits on the
computer desk next to him, dressed in a RED DRESS. Her face O.S., she runs her
fingers through his hair.
YOUNG LADY (O.S.)
I can’t wait till it’s done. It
will be the greatest thing ever.
Keep writing… I can’t wait till
it’s done… For me.
Jordan looks up to her, nods his head then begins to type
away, her hand still running through his hair.
INT. JORDAN’S HOUSE - COMPUTER ROOM - DAY
Jordan, with wide eyes slowly sits back in his chair and
It’s… I’m done. It’s finished?!
The Young Lady falls into his lap and puts her arms around
him, then kisses him.
I’m so happy… thank you.
For you… anything.
Will you, write me… another?
Jordan smile deepens as he nods to her, YES.
I am the Tin Man, I’ve always been the Tin Man. And in the words of one of my most favorite karaoke songs, “Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man, that he didn’t already have.” There is nothing I need for I have had everything all along. And since my only wants are singular, I’m unplugging for the next 72 hours in celebration of all the years I’ve collected thus far. No sleeping, no phones, no blogging, no drinking, or facebook, only WRITING!!! When you are blessed enough to know what you truly want, the only thing that could ever complete you, elevating you in both mind and body, you should, in all due respect, forsake the world in it’s entirety in it’s pursuit. It’s what the greats have always seem so easily able to do. That very want, is the reason you’re here, the reason you pull breath, the very reason for this prison of flesh! Haha And this isn’t my first writing binge! Can’t go this HAM with the written word without supplies, and supplies I gots a lots! Lol
When one is lucky enough to be able to STOP, STEP BACK, and SEE that they truly have ALL that they need and just enough of NOTHING to do as they please, the world becomes a remarkably pleasant, and frightful place! Dear me, I can do ANYTHING?! Go ANYWHERE?! There’s nothing holding me back, so why bother being so finite with plans and structure?! To my core I am chaos, why not embrace it! I want to own nothing and experience everything! There is no one to please but myself, and nothing to be proven to any but me! (What a beautiful truth; a beautiful constant!) I’ve always wanted Japan to be my first overseas trip… ^_^ Damn I’m lucky!
A writers 2013 to do list!
Besides moving back to Los Angeles in January to finish film school, my goals are as follows!
6 Finished novels in the year of 2013.
That’s one complete novel every two months.
6 Finished scripts in the year of 2013.
That’s one complete script every two months.
Four shorts shot in the year of 2013.
One short shot every four months.
One feature length shot in the year of 2013.
Me in front of the camera, till this day, leaves me a bit unsettled. I guess that’s why directing always whispered my name and not acting. LoL This is a short documentary about my writing and I, by a good friend of mine.
Deliberations where most traitorous this day! Especially when cross-examinations are deduced by that most unsightly of deliberators, one’s self! o_O Strange how to the creater’s heart, madness seems such the fairest of bed fellows. LoL *Singing in melody of “Rock the Casbah”* ‘I’m writing and I like it, pass the Redbull!’ LoL
p.s. This most auspicious of verbal banter, lovingly ringing vivacious, is but one more jest of why one does not begin one’s day, with a viewing of “The Man Of La Mancha” Hahaha
Lidia, a novel by A. N. DeBerry. (Opening lines v.001)
Once, long ago, this place was a city. A place of countless marvels, seemingly alive to some. Of towers belted with clouds; an endless sea of shimmering shards reflecting the skies that bound them. And yet to others, a vile thing that seemed to exhale poison. A creature of glass and stone teeth, steel bones and veins of road, clothed in a catching filth.
The Secret World of Louis Lambert
A Novel by A. N. DeBerry
A story about a young man, said to be a genius, who is hired by one of the great minds of his day, to dictate notes for his latest work, who is also considered mad by most. The young man becomes consumed by Louis’s ideas and even his madness as the world of the imaginary mingles with reality. The young man sets out to reveal the wonders known to Louis and prove to all that he is not indeed mad but privileged to a world without end, only for Louis to put an end to it.
Written January 24, 2012
January 24, 1923 - London
Odin Press was a small rickety shack of a publishing house, but James knew this is where he had to be.
Sitting almost center of London, the narrow building, of wood and nail, seemed to slither up the sides of the two large marble and granite stone buildings, that sat to it’s right and left. Even at five stories high, the building looked squeezed thin by the weight of the stone megaliths to it’s either side.
James stood stagnate on the other side of the street, looking up at the building as if simply stepping within would cause him some great pain. And then, with a great labored exhale of a breath he remember the promise he made.
“I just can’t sit here standing, I look a fool!”
After a shake of his head he looked slowly left and right. The streets here where far more dense with motor cars and people then back home, yet some how they still managed to go much faster, even with the streets crammed with pedestrians.
“Their crazy!” But then again, you’d have to be to live in a city so packed, he thought as the way finally became clear.
With a quick canter of steps, he managed to cross the mad street, and found himself thanking the saints that he had managed to do so and remain all in one piece.
Looking up at a weathered plank of wood, painted white, and depicting a strange eye housed within a five sided box, shaped like a crud house, he found himself unfortunately assured that he had the right place. For some reason, he was hoping still, dearly that he had perhaps come to the wrong building, or even the wrong street, God willing maybe even the wrong city.
With a loud sigh, James stepped lightly on to the first step up to the door, “what’s done is done! Dad was right. Might as well use this pricey education of mine, and make —-“
He yelped in shock as his foot crunched through the step, stopping only as it thankfully met the buildings stone foundation, which also thankfully began at street level.
“Good,” James finished as he shook his ankle free of the steps grip. “even if the good looks like this, I suppose.” He finished looking up at the building, that now toward over him, as if ready to fall.
Part of him wished it would, killing him and any hope he had of ever being a real writer. Already in a dark mood, the fact that he contained such cowardly thoughts only made his current mood, that much more darker.
In shame he looked down, down to the ruined step and the black void that slumbered just below it, “I’m a coward, a man of excuses,” looking up he took a deep breath, “no!” He said before rushing up the stairs, opening the doors, dashing in and slamming them behind him.
James stood motionlessly, with his head turned toward the door. To caught up in the moment, he didn’t have the time to contemplate his crazed entry until a breath after he had slammed the door. And there he stood, stone still, scared to even breath. Dear God, I’ve proven I’m an idiot before even opening my mouth. Well at least I tried”
“Out of the way stiff!” A man’s voice said from behind, before shoving him out of the way of the door, and leaving through it.
James stumbled out of the way, attempting to catch himself on a coat rack, that only proved as sturdy as the buildings step construction.
With a snap, the coat rack broke into pieces before spilling onto the ground, shortly followed by, an already very ashamed James.
Finding him self tossed onto the ground covered in heavy coats, a part of him wanted to simply sit there, hidden beneath the thick articles of wool and fur. And that part of him, to his greatest shame, was winning grossly the argument to continue as he was, that is till he heat of the combined coats and jackets made it unbearable for him to continue.
With effort, he tore the coats off his head and face, and found himself in great need of fresh air. As he gasped he looked about the room and to his shock, discovered a room so busy with it’s own dealings that not a single person had noticed that he had ran in, slammed the the door, or even was sent flying into a coat rack and then the floor.
Against all understanding he found himself smiling, “It’s not often one is given a second chance at first meetings!”
Though housed in a tall scrawny excuse of a building, Odin Press bustled with the hectic comings, goings, movements and chatter of dozens. Which was commonly mistaken by those outside of the profession of commercial literature, as nothing short of mad!
Each long narrow room, wisely making up for the buildings unfortunate shortcomings in width, was lined with desk after desk after desk, along it’s walls, making best use of the slim space.
Now that James ears no longer where blooming and pounding with embarrassment, he realized that it was quite possibly louder inside then it was outside.
Phones ringed constantly as some talked, others discussed, and more then a few even argued aloud across the room, only adding to the already lively symphony.
Feeling a bit out of place, james gingerly walked up to the main desk, finding a young women who he discovered was discussing an extremely fragile matter by phone.
“Look hear you scuzzy shiter, and realize that I don’t care dearie! That’s the last kiss you’ll nab from me, you mouth shitting bastard!”
At that she slammed the receiver on the hook, muttered a few more curses, some of which James had never heard of, then looked up to him with a unimaginably kind and saintly face.
Reflexively James took a step back, what he had just heard, had surly left this young lady’s - though looking at her now he… “My, you are beyond pretty.” He said reddening instantly as he realized the words left his lips, and not another’s.
“You really think?” She said with a laugh, “and look at you blushing.” She cleared her throat, looking honestly a bit abashed, “sorry you had to hear that, but a girl can only take getting lied to, so many times. Remember that won’t you?” She asked him with a shy smile.
Snapping out of his own smile, James wrestled with his pocket for a moment, at last pulling out a small leather bound note book, “no, no I won’t.” he said as he began to write her words down.
“My name is Lisa,” she said with another warm smile, “what’s yours handsome?”
“Handsome,” He mumbled as he finished his writing, then looked up in wonderment, “handsome.” He said again, looking about him to make sure there was no one else there she could possibly be referring to, “me? I’m handsome?” He said, pointing to himself in disbelief, “me?”
“Yes you, silly boy. Very,” Lisa said with a mirthful shake of her head, “what’s your name love?” She asked him again, locking her eyes with his.
James stood there, chained by her eyes, “name?”
“Yes, name. You do have a name don’t you?” Lisa joked.
“Name? Name! Yes I do have a name!” James said with excitement.
“And, it would be?” She asked with a snicker.
His brows wrinkled with concentration, his eyes wondering here and there, as he desperately tried to solve Lisa’s impossible riddle.
“James, James John Darling!” He said, full of joy at solving her grueling task.
“Well Mr. Darling, how may I help you?”
Raising his hand to his head, he nodded slowly with each word as he remembered his supposed purpose.
“I have a meeting with Mr. Howard, concurring employment.” He said, breathing heavily as if he had been sprinting.
“Oh, you’re the 9:00. Well go on up, he’s waiting for you. Those stairs, right there behind you, will take you up to his office. I’ll ring him and let him know you’re on your way up.”
Finally back to his senses, “thank you very much Misses Lisa.” He said with a bow.
“No Misses, just Miss.” She corrected him. “Right up those stairs, can’t miss him.
“Thanks again,” he said.
Turning from her, he walked for the stairs.
“Though, Lisa Darling,” She whispered just loud enough for him to hear. James stumbling at her words as proof of the fact, “that would sound rather nice.”
As he made his way up the stairs, James found it delightfully difficult for his feet to agree, tripping several times over what seemed to be, very dense air.
The door of wood and glass read, ‘Mr. Howard, Chief Editor.’
What Lisa had said was true, there really was no way he could have missed it. The thick door sat at the very top of the stairs, and after a calming breath, James knocked three times.
“Come in. Come in!” Mr. Howard said from the other side of the door, perhaps even cheerfully.
James wasn’t quite sure, as he opened the door. It was perhaps the deepest voice he had ever heard and was only sure that anger, would be the only for sure sound of emotion that one could hope to get out of Mr. Howard. And seeing the size of Mr. Howard as he walked into the room, he hoped he never heard a single whisper of anger from Mr. Howard, in his entire life.
The man was not fat, or bulgy in any way, just massive. Easily six feet tall, he looked like a man forged of only muscle. The kind of man to be found in a seedy boxing ring down some dark alley, and not behind some desk, working as an editor. But looking up at him again, James was sure that not a soul had ever voiced such opinions aloud to Mr. Howard before, and wisely he thought that he would defiantly not be the first.
“Good day Mr. Howard, how are you? My name is James John D—-”
“Young Mr. Darling!” Mr. Howard boomed with a giant smile, as he jumped up to shake James’ hand. “Why I haven’t seen you since you were but a babe!”
James looked down in disbelief as Mr. Howard’s hand completely surrounded his own, as if his own hand was but a child’s.
“And now look at you!” Mr. Howard said, grabbing James by both shoulders. His hands swallowing his tiny arms. “God, I guess that means I’m getting old!” He joked, slapping James on the shoulder, managing to knock every stitch of air from his lungs, as he turned back to his desk.
“And how is that rascal of a father of yours, still teaching?” Mr. Howard asked taking his seat.
“Yes, yes he is sir.” James managed between coughs, and breaths.
“Oh we did have he best of times, me and your father. You know it was he who wanted to be an editor and writer some day, and me who wanted to be a professor.” Mr. Howard said before filling the office with a booming laughter.
“So close we were, that we wound up living the other’s dream!”
James tried his best not to cover his ears, as Mr. Howard again, sounded with a thunderous laugh.
“I did not know that. I thought father always wanted to be a professor.”
“No, your father was a mad man!”
“Father? A mad man?”
“Aye! The ‘Scourge’ the mothers of oxford called him. The things that man could do with a smile! No, writing and editing was his dream, until he was sobered up a bit. By two things.”
James had never heard of his father being anything but subtle and kept, but here he was hearing that his old man had the type of excitement he wished he had always had. He was hooked on Mr. Howard’s every word.
“What two things?” James asked desperately.
“Well the first was your mother. My God, she was like a dream that had escaped from sleep!”
“And the second?
“Why the second was you lad!” Mr. Howard said with another large laugh. “An editors life, let alone a writers life, isn’t necessarily designed for the needs of family. But knowing your father you wouldn’t of known. He took to teaching like a fish in water, and who could blame him. With your mother’s beauty as motivation, a man could find himself able to bare anything!”
“I. I did not know.” James said, slumping in the chair, in front of Mr. Howard’s desk. “I never would have imagined that father had wanted to be a writer. Never. He always tells me it’s a waste of time, a fools errand.”
“That perhaps, lad. Is your father fearing that you would fail, where he had also. It’s truly not easy to make it as a writer.”
James nodded in knowing agreement.
“Why, the only one of the three of us to make it was Louis!”
“Three? Who is Louis?”
“Come now lad! You have a Master’s in English and you don’t know Louis Lambert?”
Slowly James stood up, rubbing his eyes with both hands, “Lambert? You mean Louis Lambert? The writer?”
“Yes lad, I’m not to sure there’s another Louis Lamber worth mentioning really!” Mr. Howard joked, before becoming concerned. “Are you ill son?”
“I’m fine,” he answered, lowering his hands, “a complete fool apparently, but fine!”
“Oh I see, your father did not mention him. Oh my, I think I just committed a serious blunder!”
Mr Howard’s frown that followed was a frightful thing, yet even still, james could have sworn the ghastly sight blossomed from a tiny smile.
“What do you mean, blunder?”
“Well as you know, some time ago Louis became, sick. His mind was shattered, from reasons I’m still not sure of. But around that time your father was marrying your mother, and Louis refused to come to the wedding. Well we were best blokes before that, and your father took it, well rather hard really. From then on, he held a good bit of hate for poor old Louis.”
Mr. Howard shook his head, and held a sad look on his face, that for some reason just didn’t look genuine. He couldn’t place it, perhaps sadness just looked strange on such a large face.
“Father can hold a grudge,” James admitted. “But he should have told me.” James said pacing the room, “I told father countless times about how I wanted to be a writer, perhaps even better then the great Louis Lambert. And now I find every time I mentioned such, would have surly caused him some kind of pain. The pain of a dream lost, or worst a friend lost. I feel terrible!” James said, again slouching down in the seat before Mr. Howard.
“It’s not your fault lad, you did not know,” Mr. Howard said before jumping in sudden realization, “lad! Did you say you wanted to be a writer?”
“Yes. I graduated from Oxford, early last year.”
“Graduated with the highest marks of your class, is what I hear!” Mr. Howard boomed with pride.
“Yes. I went back home to the states after, to work on my book, but. Well lets just say, a free mind proved harder to tame, then one chained and guided by school. I lost all inspiration for my book, and I had promised father that if I had not finish by years end, that I would finally go and find work. When year’s end came, he found me and gave me a ticket for London, and a job appointment, here.”
“And here you stand.”
“More or less.” James said with a flourish of both hands, that made his depressed slouch in the chair, all the more noticeable.
“You know Mr. Darling I have perhaps a problem that you may be able to help with.”
“Yes, you see I have a writer who like your self has hit a bit of a, road block with his latest work. And word has it, perhaps his greatest work to date.”
“But how could I help?”
“Well by helping him, I think perhaps you can help yourself, find exactly what you need to find. You know, inspiration!” Mr. Howard said, rounding the table to stand behind James.
“Inspiration? That would be warmly welcomed. But what would you need me to do?” He asked, looking up to Mr. Howard.
“Well this writer, over the years, has become quite particular about his writing, and now only does so by dictation. Yet even more bothersome is that he trust no one, not even enough to give the dictation needed to finish the book. What you would do for me is earn his trust, serving as his secretary. Keeping his dates in order and such, and perhaps in time he would even provide you with the rest of his book to be transcribed.”
“I guess I could do that sir, but what makes you think this writer would open to me?”
“Oh, just a gut feeling we editors in great need, some times get. So what do you say?”
“But I don’t even know who it is.”
“I’ll pay you $50 dollars a week!”
James jumped from his seat in shock, “$50 dollars a week!”
“And not a penny more! Here,” Mr. Howard said, picking up a large envelope from atop his desk, “Here’s your first week’s pay, tickets and further instructions.” He rushed out, all a bit strange to the ear because of his immensely deep voice.
Pushing James to the door with the envelope, before he could even reply he continued, “and you must hurry now, your train leaves in a hour. My daughter Lisa will take you to the train.”
“Train? But?” James squeaked out.
“No buts, I know you’ll do me proud! Now on your way!” Mr. Howard said, opening the door to his office and shooing James out.
“But sir,” James pleaded.
“What is it now lad?”
“But I don’t even know the writers name sir.” He said in confusion.
“The writer’s name?” Mr. Howard said with a impossibly broad smile, “The writer’s name is Louis Lambert! Now be off!”
And with that, Mr. Howard shut the door on the confused and now very frightened Mr. Darling.
“Your the first yank I’ve ever met, you know that.” Lisa was saying as swerved through the busy streets of london by motor car.
“No. No I did not know that,” James stuttered out, with eyes locked shut with fear.
“Aye, you are. And for some reason I expected yanks to be more, I don’t know, lively,” she said almost careening into a old women and her fruit wagon.
“Sorry to disappoint,” James said, braving to open a single eye. But seeing what he saw soon eradicated any remnants of bravery in him.
“No, no need to apologize,” she said before kissing him on the check, “you don’t disappoint me one bit!” She finished with a wicked smile.
Eyes open, but utterly blind to the speed and easily obtained, possible death and mayhem around him, he saw only her.
“You are a very dangerous young women!” He said with a smile of his own.
“Why thank you. You finally noticed!”
Finally realizing again where he was, James looked forward, his eyes automatically clinching shut, “How could I’ve not!” He said with a shaky laugh.
“Ah, here we are,” Lisa finally said, after what seemed an eternity.
The motor car came to a stop.
“You can open your eyes now love,” Lisa joked.
Slowly James opened one eye, then the other. Blinking at the now, midday sun.
“That’s Paddington Station,” Lisa said, pointing to a long iron structure of a building,. “When inside, find Platform 7.”
“And where will Platform 7 take me?”
“I haven’t the foggiest, but if I know father, he would of given you a list of some kind.” Lisa said with a shake of her head, “Oh how father does love his little list.”
James brought up the envelope and stared, “I guess he did.”
“Well, I do hate good byes, but I shamefully do find my self wanting you to come back sooner then later,” Lisa said with a decisive sniff.
“I’ll do my best,” he promised before she hugged him. Shocked he stood frozen, and before he had the nerve to hug her back, the moment was gone.
“You just go and be safe! Father also has a knack for getting others in trouble!” Lisa said before shooing James off towards the ship, “others, namely me. But others none the less.”
After the confusion of first finding Platform 7, and then settling into his compartment car, a very comfortable compartment car at that, James made his way up to the observation car to sit and think.
“What just happened?” He found himself asking, no one in particular.
“Well I guess at least I should find out where I’m headed,” He said, opening the envelope Mr. Howard had given him.
Dear Mr. Darling
I am very pleased that you have agreed to help me in my little endeavor. At this moment, and for the past four years, the great Louis Lamber has been trying to complete a manuscript, that is quite possibly his best ever. All you must do to assist him, is to keep him on track. Not wanting you to go blindly into the lion’s dean, I have set up a few appointments with good acquaintances of Mr. Lambert’s, so that you may learn more of his troubling condition, and perhaps what to do in certain times, and more importantly what not to do.
Your first stop will be to the house of Lambert’s good friend Mr. Rodger S. Garrson. Your second stop will be to the offices of Misses Rachel Moore. Who has collaborated with Lambert on several works. And lastly Mr. Lee R. Tone, who was truly the closest before Lambert’s tragic breakdown.
The Contents of this envelope is, as follows:
*A train ticket. With stops in Bicester, Stafford, Rochdale and finally Leeds.
P.S. I knew I could count on you. Good luck, and for heavens sack have a bit of fun while you’re at it!
Sincerely, Mr. Howard
Odin Press Publishing
In disbelief James sat back in his chair.
“Not only Lambert,” he said with a nervous chuckle, “but Misses Moore!”
In school James had fallen for her words as strongly as he did for Lambert’s.
He read Mr. Howard’s letter again.
“I’m going to meet Rodger S. Garrson?” He said aloud, hoping that doing so would some how snap him out of the strange dream he found himself snared by.
“Greatest living poet, and I’m going to meet him,” James said in frightful realization, “for tea?”
“And to make matters worse, Lee R. Tone!”
The man had single handedly defined, what it was to be great! He could have an idea Monday, have a layout by Tuesday’s breakfast, and have a pulitzer for the same work by Friday evening, just in time for dinner!
“They’re all master of the written word.” James said, his eyes growing large. “I haven’t even finished a single work! How can I even think to rub shoulders them?”
“They do what I wish I could, as easily as I breaths air!” James said, finding his breathing at that moment not very easy. “I’m nothing. How can I face them?”
Shacking his head he read the last of the letter again.
P.S. I knew I could count on you. Good luck…
James barely knew Mr. Howard, but strangely the idea of letting him down, made him feel even worse.
“I don’t think it’s possible for me to pull this off,” James thought aloud, “but Mr. Howard does clearly. Maybe he knows something I don’t.”
“And I promised father I’d try my best,” James said as his shoulders dropped considerably, “I suppose I must!”
— Akil N. De Berry
This is a work of mine I decided late last year, would be my fist ever novel that I would complete! I wanted to finish it sooner this year but life pleasantly got in the way! So I’m taking this week out to finish it up and complete it, I’d love any input anyone has to give.
I don’t know how it is for others, when judging the feel and rightness of their own work, but I find I’m never really sure how my stuff truly sounds to others, let alone my self. To me it doesn’t sound right or wrong, great or terrible, it simply sounds as it should, and perhaps what I need to learn is that that is not only enough, but far beyond it!
So take a read and let me know what you think! Thanks again for the help!
‘Youngest’ A Novel by Akil N. DeBerry. Chapter1 (UNEDITED)
Chapter 1: Summons
“Stay true Mr. Gallen,” Toliver shouted over the storm.
“Aye sir!” Mr. Gallen yelled back, “worry not Captain, worry not!” He said as he wrestled the helm.
They stood only a foot apart, but Toliver could still only barely hear his First Mate.
The sea around them had become a monstrous thing without out cause.
Toliver looked up into to a clear sky. The sun in the distance just beginning it’s climb into the day, and as far as he could tell, the tempest effected only their ship in the straight.
This is mad! Toliver thought as another wave crashed onto the deck of his ship.
As the new day grew into midday, ‘The Wayward Dream’, a war vessel of even her size and girth, was thrashed about by wind and rain as if a toy.
“Latch down those lines!” Toliver shouted out to the few men he allowed to brave the storm.
The storm had shown no sign of weakening since it began, and so thinking it best, refreshed his deck hands as often as he could, wanting only alert men on his deck in this chaos.
A fatigued man in this, Toliver thought as another cold wave washed over him, is a dead man.
As the storm raged on, time became a strange memory. He couldn’t tell what hour it truly was.
Between the freezing spray and blinding wind, aglow with the light of the sun from the clear sky above. He no longer trusted his senses.
Not in this, Toliver thought, as a strange smell lingering in the the crazed air hooked his attention.
As the world around him boiled in turmoil, Toliver calmed him self and concentrated on the peculiar scent.
Toliver’s eyes shot open, salt water running across his unblinking eyes, as his jaw clenched in rage.
He knew who sent this evil storm. And he was sure he even knew why.
This is how you fetch me? Toliver wanted to shout, but the straining muscles of his neck and jaw would not permit.
“Captain?” Mr. Gallen asked, noticing even in the brewing storm, the the dangerous light in his Captain’s eyes.
Working his jaw Toliver managed only a whisper. “Stay true.”
“Aye Sir!” Mr. Gallen said nervously as Toliver’s whisper continued to echo in his ears, almost deafening.
The storm had lasted a day and a night.
Toliver stood in the dim morning light, as his men where already busy checking the ship for damage and fixing what could be fixed.
With a sneer he watched the horizon, just north of the just now rising sun.
“The stars have moved considerably, Captain.” Mr. Gallen stated calmly.
“Aye,” Toliver said looking up to the still visible stars, “have the men repair only what must be. I want all ranks, in honor dress, on the deck in formation within the hour.”
The never questioning Mr. Gallen, nodded his head and went off to make sure his Captain’s orders where carried out.
Toliver shook his head in guilt, they all trust me far more then they should.
Before the hour was out, the deck of the Wayward Dream, was brimming with mirror polished half plate. Shimmering swords, inlayed with gold and silver reliefs, and towering long spears, whose naps wavered with crisp white banners, depicting in gold tread, a winged horse with talons and claws, rearing and ready for flight.
A full legion of men stood ready upon the deck, as still as statues, waiting patiently for Toliver’s words.
Toliver took a deep breath.
The smell of lavender had peaked during the hight of the storm, and now only drifted in the air lightly. But a few had noticed it still.
First a violent storm without clouds, then a sea that smelled of Lavender, and yet not one of his men grew shaken, and for good reason.
In their time with Toliver they had seen far stranger, and now expecting the impossible as if common place.
Toiver also did not see it fit to fill his ranks with men who could not adjust to the unknown.
They had all chosen an impossible task, and only men use to the impossible would stand victorious in the end.
“We have been summoned.” Toliver told his men loudly, “To a Hall far more dangerous then any before.”
Pointing northeast to the distance horizon, “soon a group of Isles will appear,” Toliver continued. “The Isles of Bailfray.”
That last earned a quite rustle from his men. They knew of the likes that called that forbidden chain of islands home.
“What business has the Council with us Captain?” Mr. Gallen asked.
“I don’t think it was the Council that sent that storm.” Toliver told him.
“Then who Captain?” Zane asked calmly.
“The High Lady I expect.” Toliver said.
Another rustle sounded through his men.
“Have we wronged her perhaps?” Jobe pondered aloud.
“That’s always possible with our lot.” Zeres joked.
“Aye.” Toliver admitted with a smile.
“Maybe she seeks hire?” Young Gin asked.
Toliver nodded, “Who knows why the High Lady Lillanna has called us.” He lied, “she has, and all we can do is prepare.”
A wave of nods spread across his men.
All eyes watched the Isles of Bailfray as they crept towards them from the horizon.
The tails of the islands, the homes of wizards, where as strange and bizarre as the rumors that surrounded Toliver and his men. Any of them could be true.
As they neared, Mr. Gallen ran to Toliver’s side.
“Captain I’m not sure what I’m seeing,” Mr. Gallen said motioning for Toliver to follow him to the edge of the boat, “but there,” he said pointing his massive hand at a strange break in the waters ahead.
Toliver clapped him on the shoulder, “You never cease to amaze, Mr. Gallen!” He said with pride.
Mr. Gallen’s back straitened as he smiled, “thank you Captain,” he said, then becoming confused asked, “but why Captain?”
Toliver placed three fingers to Mr. Gallen’s temple, “Because even without seeing, you manage to see.”
Mr. Gallen’s eyes grew wide as a massive dome appeared before him. Sprouting up from the strange break in the ocean, it’s surface, somewhat transparent, moved and swirled like water, while sparkling with tiny shards of violet light.
“Captian?” Mr. Gallen said with with dry lips, “what is that?”
“That Mr. Gallen, is a blessing wall,” Toliver said looking up a the giant dome. “Only those with permission or those summoned by the council, can pass through it, alive. Cast long ago in history by Bailfray himself.”
Mr. Gallen turned from the dome in thought, “Alive? But then Captain,” he said looking to Toliver, “was it we, or only you that was summoned?”
Toliver smiled again, “only me.”
Mr. Gallen jumped with realization, “But we can’t let you go ahead alone! We are your guard!” He demanded.
Toliver shook him by the shoulders, “my dear man. I have no intentions of going alone.” He said as a memory flooded his mind.
“‘Never do as expected.” Toliver cited, “Uncertainty breeds fear in the strongest of men, and fear is the strongest of weapons against unkind odds.’” He finished.
“We are about to enter a world of unkind odds, Mr. Gallen.” Toliver told him, “And I will not be leaveing, not a single one of you behind, to miss out on all the fun.” He joked warmly.
“But how Captian?” Mr. Gallen probed.
“Have the men link,” Toliver said turning from him to the isles in the distance, “all of them to you.”
“Me?” Mr. Gallen asked, nodding with a flowering undersanding of his Captian’s plan.
“Yes,” Toliver said turning back to Mr. Gallen, “and then you will like with the ship.”
“The ship?” Mr. Gallen asked, all again confused.
“Don’t worry man,” Toliver said stricking Mr. Gallen friendly arcoss the shoulder, “it’s the same as a normal link. And you’ll be abe to manage it better then any else.” Toliver boasted.
Still not sure Mr. Gallen nodded, “as you command Captian.”
As Mr. Gallen turned to give orders to the men, Toliver turned back to the Isles, and up at the spell that encircled it, remembering.
When last he passed through it, he could only feel it, being far to weak to grasp it’s presence with his eyes.
A strange sensation, he could clearly still remember. A tingling of both hot and cold, as if his skin was confused as to what it felt, passing over him heavily.
And there it was. As he was now, he could see it.
A sphere of air that shimmered in the light. Half of it rising from the waters surrounding the main Island and soaring up, endlessly into the sky where at some point all sides met. While the other half sunk beneath the oceans waves, coming together and finishing the spheres‘ field of protection, down deep in the icy depths.
“From back ranks to forward ranks, link!” Mr. Gallen shouted.
Turning around to watch, Toliver smiled with pride.
Even a simple linking was considered High Magic.
It evolved the manipulation of one’s own essence, their very soul. Drawing it out at a single point, from the the heart being the most stable, and joining it with the essence of another. Becoming one at the base of your very existence.
At which all was shared, all but memories, with skills and knowledge only available through reflex or great need.
Beginning at the end of ranks, from the center of their polished plate, a stem of wispy white light, only visible to those linking or linked, grew and stretched forth, connecting to the center of the man’s back to their front.
With each connection a wave of of euphoria washed across the eyes of all connected.
The web of lights jumped from man to man, creeping up the ranks to the first man, where Mr. Gallen stood ready to receive them.
All at once, from each of the thirty lines of ranks came a ghostly, now rope, of light that reached out and pierced Mr. Gallen’s heart.
From the shock of so many emotions, wants, and hopes he staggered, but only for a moment.
He’s grown quite strong, Toliver thought.
Gritting his teeth, Mr. Gallen centered him self, and once sure of his step, walked to the ships main mast.
From his heart came a stretch of pure white light, a hand’s span wide, that entered the wood of the mast, and ignited every board, nail and rope of the ship with the same white light. The eyes of his men looked in wonder at the ship as it glowed with their combined essence.
“Well done Mr. Gallen!” Toliver said turning back to the spelled sphere, now very close.
“Thank you Captain.” Mr. Gallen said looking in awe with the other men.
“Now, every man take a knee, and brace your selves!” Toliver commanded.
Everyone of them fell to the deck with their left knee and awaited.
Toliver stood near the bow of the ship, and from his chest a light began to bloom.
But unlike the others, his was not a wispy thing, ghostly in presence, his was unimaginably solid. Like a beam of steel ready for shaping, white with heat, the world seemed to shy away from it, or perhaps was absorbed by it, as the two hands wide length of light snaked to the very tip of the ships’ bow.
At it’s touch, the emotions of his men burst into being, in his mind.
So many, Toliver thought as he breathed slowly to steady himself, “everyone alright?” He asked, turning to his men.
Half of them laid face down on the deck, breathing raggedly, as the other half still held a knee, if only barely.
“Thank you” Toliver whispered to the Wayward Dream. It had served as a buffer in the linking, and had preformed beautifuly.
All of them are still alive, Toliver tought thankfully.
“Aye Captain,” Mr. Gallen said raising with sure footing, breathing deeply and slowly.
Toliver smiled with pride, “good man Mr. Gallen. Now take us through the spell.”
The Wayward Dream, at full sail came fast at the protective shield.
Every man on deck, now recovered, waited confidently for the unknown.
Toliver, at the Bow, was the first to past through.
His skin tinglinged with heat and shuddered with cold, all at once. As he and ship pierced the dome.
Turning, he watched as his men and rest of his ship pass through the spell unharmed.
Toliver released a long breath, he hadn’t noticed he was holding.
Sailing up to an the main island, they docked at an ancient stone dock, void of any movement.
As his men finished docking, Toliver looked out to the empt dock, irratated.
“All lines secure Captain. Shall we…”
“We aren’t even enough of a bother,” Toliver pouted, “to even send an escort, are we?”
“No Captain, ‘you’ are not.” Mr. Gallen joked. “Remember, you were to arrive here by your self,” Mr. Gallen said, then taking notice of the mischief grin on his Captain’s face, “I know that look.” He said with laugh, “Dear Gods Captain, what are you about to do?”
“Not me, ‘we’.” Toliver said with a sly grin. “Let’s stir things up a bit shall we,” Toliver said turning to his waiting troops, “Men,” he said, addressing the deck,”how about we start a little trouble.”
The nervous expressions that spotted a few of his men’s faces, soon vanished as they all grinned boyishly.
“Spears at the ready, Shields at the ready!” Toliver yelled, not a soul moved, only their eyes becoming vague with a distant stare, “Spears target the castle,” Toliver said, pointing in the distance to the barely visible tops of a grand castle. “Shields worry not of strength, only size. I want your largest field! And worry not everyone, with us linked, your range and power will be,” Toliver said as his grin deepened into a broad smile, “very surprising.”
He turned back to look at the tower tops of the castle in the distance, “now!”
The home of the Great Council, the Castle Bailfray, buzzed with life.
It’s halls filled with the movings and comings of hundreds.
Great Wizards and Sorceress, to new apprentices went about their important business with purpose and diligence.
The Great Halls boomed with chatter. Over history or science, of news or faith.
The Dining Halls sounded with the scrape and rasp of hundreds of forks and knifes, as the Castles’ inhabitants filled themselves with the Castles’ unparalleled cuisine.
The Library Halls vibrated with the quiet sound of turning pages and mumbled words.
While the he Practice Halls echoed with rigorous instruction, as teacher taught student about the wonders, hidden in the world around them.
The Castle as always roared with the sound of knowledge and the pursuit of it; until that is, a clear wall , like visible heat washed over and through it’s halls.
Through brick or bone, spell or ward, it mattered not. The wave pierced all, and at it’s touch each soul saw their end. Dealt almost lazily by a man most did not know, and yet a small few did.
Silence filled the castle like water, for impossible moments till the cries of the weak and unhindged replaced it with the wales of fear and dread.
The invisible wall of killing intent, coninued on past the castle, coming to the other end of the island, and then moving even further.
Venturing over the stretch of ocean between the main island and the next. The wall came to an island, nearly as big as the main island. And as the wall moved through the forest, it brought the natural chatter of the beast that lived there to an errie still.
As the wall of vile intent moved for the center island, it came to a small circular hut, of bark and wood.
The wall smashed the hut with the same force as it did the castle, and seemed to have reached it’s limit as it diffused and fluttered away into nothingness.
The door of the small hut opened, and from within walked a women of great beauty in a flowing gown of dark violet.
“At last,” she said with a loving smile.
— Akil N. DeBerry
A few pages of my Script Frenzy screenplay from last year, and no I did not finish it! Yes I know, shame! It started off as a simple idea then morphed into stranger fields like metaphysics, the nature of perception it’s self, religion and lots more. I know, I got carried away with a good idea, that soon became a great idea, which at times for us writers, can also mean an impossible idea!
Lidia is a world with the usual cyberpunk themes and a few new ones. Corporations that rival for power, as governments bend to their power. Social differences are vast and near permanent! Mega cities and mega slums. World wide connections dependent on bio components, I call Technicians.
The tag line was, “Evolution is not always forwards, at times it moves back.”
‘Lidia’ A Script by Akil N. DeBerry
EXT. OUTER CITY - THE FIELDS - DAY
A group of young boys sit, crouched beside a wide ribbon of
trash and debris. They dig in the trash until their hands
strike a dampness that covers their hands with cold water.
They take an assortment of varying sized buckets, stained
and dirty, and plunge them beneath the trash using the holes
they dug by hand. When they pull the buckets up, they splash
with the cold river water that lays beneath the thick veneer
of trash and waste.
With their buckets in hand they run up a narrow trail,
littered with trash and covered by a dense forest canopy.
They stop and and look at their home.
EXT. OUTER CITY - THE GROVE - DAY
The Grove, a mega slum towering into the sky on the backs of
oblong and misshaped buildings built from the very trash of
the mega city of Lidia, and topped with a forest, that fill
it’s combined roofs.
The boys continue their run through the thick masses that
fill the cramped slum, of winding streets and narrow spaces.
They come to an entrance at the base of one of the massive
buildings and run inside.
INT. SLUM BUILDING - DAY
They run up a flight of lopsided stairs. A combination of
electrical cables and roots webbing and knotting along the
buildings’ ceilings and walls, of it’s dark lightless halls
They come to a large room that has a rift in its ceiling,
leaving it open to the sky, hundreds of feet up. A group of
men man a fire pit that holds a massive cauldron of bubbling
water in which the young boys add their contribution from
Nicely done, boys.
The man gives each of them an approving smile and then goes
back to manning the flames.
The men place a large metal top on top the cauldron, that
has a long spout that runs down and drips the steamed water
into large buckets.
The men grab buckets of clean water and begin to carry them
deeper into the building. The young boys, taking two of them
to carry a single bucket follow the men slowly but
They come to a door surrounded by people, all carrying
worried or concerned expression.
The sound of CRIES and MOANING permeate the door from the
The men place the buckets of water down, next to the door. A
woman opens the door as they do, the SCREAMS of pain fill
the long narrow halls.
Thank you, more then enough.
She forced a smile.
Is there anything else we can do.
No, no the others should be on
their way with…
The women stops and looks down the corridor in the opposite
direction the men came from, as did everyone. A group of
women where moving almost at a run for the room.
Here they are. No, we need nothing
else but stay close, just encase.
The group of women finish the distance to the door and hand
the MIDWIFE a bundle of tattered rages.
They’re the cleanest we could find,
I hope it’s enough.
It will have to be.
SCREAMS fill the corridor from behind the door.
INT. SLUM BUILDING - LIVING SPACE - DAY
In the the filth and dirt that covers the tight, cramp room,
a young women CRIES out in pain, surrounded by a small group
of women. Candles fill the windowless room with a warm
A man sits in a corner and looks on with concern flooding
The young women is giving birth.
She wales as she pushes, as the Midwives help as much as
The young women CRIES out and one of the Midwives around her
reaches down and pulls up into view, a baby boy.
A midwife brings the bundle of tattered rags and unrolls
them. She then shakes her head at the dirt stained cloths.
She looks down at her dress, a much cleaner garment even
with the edged border of grime along the dress’s hem. The
midwife looks to the others and shrugs. She drops the rages
and tears a good portion of her dress, shakes it free of
loose dirt and then hands it to the others.
They rap the baby in the dress and hand the baby to the
mother. The man in the corner, the father, moves to the
mother and kisses them both.
EXT. OUTER CITY - THE FIELDS - DAY
Ten years later.
A boy runs through the fields of trash with his friends,
laughing and playing.
They come up to a clearing and pause in awe as they gaze
into the distance.
The boy looks on, smiling.
A loud spike of STATIC burst into life, and only the boy
reacts to the deafening sound.
He becomes scared and frightened as his vision pixalates,
and the sound of STATIC and countless VOICES grow in his
head. He falls to the ground screaming. His friends crowed
around him, in worry.
The boy squeezes his he eyes Shut.
In the blackness the hectic waling of VOICES, STATIC and the
boys quickened BREATHING peak, then begin to slowly fade as
the boys BREATHING slows and steadies. Replaced by a growing
sound of a woman’s SINGING, but that to quickly fades.
RETURN TO SCENE:
The boy opens his eyes, his friends help him up with worried
faces. The boy looks to them smiling, and then locks eyes
with the mega city of Lidia in the distance.
INT. OUTER CITY - THE GROVE - DAY
A year later.
The boy walks through the body packed streets, the towering
slums blocking much of the open sky, the forest on their
tops blocking what ever was left.
The boy shakes his head, and looks disoriented. He moves to
a side alley and hunches in the filth. The crushing sound of
STATIC and VOICES fill his head. He shakes in pain.
He closes his eyes, and begins to breath deeply. The sound
of STATIC and VOICES fade and becomes slowly replaced by a
woman’s SINGING, but that to quickly fades.
The boy open’s his eyes and smiles.
INT. SLUM BUILDING - BOY’S ROOM - DAY
The boy lights a candle, filling his cramped, windowless
room with orange light. He sits down in a corner of the room
and closes his eyes. He breaths deeply.
He moves his head about, as if searching for something with
his closed eyes. Turning his head to the side, he hears it.
Lowly, barely audible to him, he hears the sound of a woman
SINGING, but it soon fades away. He open’s his eyes and
smiles. With a face of triumph he closes his eyes and again
try’s to hear the song.
EXT. SLUM BUILDING - ROOF - DAY
Climbing from out of a crack that splits the buildings open,
the boy pulls hims self up to it’s roof. He walks amongst
the sea of antenna and wires that cover the roof almost as
thickly as the dense roots. Antenna stand attached to
anything, building or tree trunk clustering the elevated
forest bed with webs of metal.
He comes to the edge of the forest, and the edge of the
buildings’ roof and sits against a broad tree trunk, facing
the mega city in the distance. Holding his folded knees in
his arms he closes his eyes and concentrates.
GROVE FOREST - TIME LAPSE MONTAGE
The boy holds his siting position, but his cloths and hair
rapidly change as the sky turns from day to night and back
As he sits the sounds of STATIC and countless VOICES grow so
loud that they become no longer distinguishable.
The boy’s head turns to the side and concentration fills his
features. The sound of his slow and steady BREATHING begins
to over power the noise of STATIC and VOICES.
All the sounds slowly begin to fade away, leaving the boy in
a soundless void.
And out of this void a faint sound of SINGING grows slowly,
until it fills everything, the slum, the forest, and the
The boy open’s his eyes and smiles, the sound of SINGING
staying with him, and not once fading.
INT. REPUBLIC OF LIDIA - KARDON CORPORATION HQ - MEETING
ROOM - DAY
A group of men sit around a table, in a grand room that
looks out over the entire city.
CHAIRMEN DIRECTOR SMITH
It has come to my attention that
our population of Techs has
steadily been dropping, what is the
It is true, I fear Mr. Chairmen.
Other companies have been sending
out heavy recruiting patrols, to
every possible corner of the world.
Even here, foreign corporations
have invaded our land and stole our
most precious commodity.
It was only last quarter when a
division of our men stumbled across
a foreign cell. We attempted to
capture one alive, but by the time
the smoke cleared all were
CHAIRMEN DIRECTOR SMITH
What is our current holdings in
terms of Technicians?
Currently our bank of Technicians
numbers 60,000 fully trained and
operational and an additional
12,000, currently in training.
CHAIRMEN DIRECTOR SMITH
And our competition?
As our current information holds,
Steiner Corp. a mere 30,000. Horak
Industries an estimated 52,000.
Morozov Inc. 26,000. And our main
comparator Thomson Dynamics,
The room of men shift in their seats uncomfortably.
CHAIRMEN DIRECTOR SMITH
As of today, all Tech recruiting
will be boosted by 40%. We are the
world’s great power, and it will
remain so! Director Jones.
Yes, Mr. Chairmen?
CHAIRMEN DIRECTOR SMITH
Amplify and boost all city wide
signals. I want every last soul,
sensitive to Analog Sickness to cry
out in the streets for our gracious
help. Every soul inside… and
outside the city.
The corporation finds more techs in the Grove then the city,
because signals a far weaker normally when they leave the
city. So the Corporation aims signals directly at the Grove
to gather all the A.S. victims that they had missed over the
As you wish, Mr. Chairmen.
INT. REPUBLIC OF LIDIA - KARDON CORPORATION TOWER - CONTROL
ROOM - DAY
Director Jones walks through the highly advanced building to
the main control room.
A scientist looks to him as he walks into the room.
Director Jones nodes to the scientist, then leaves.
The scientist moves to a control board, and begins the
process of amping the city’s signals.
INT. SLUM BUILDING - BOY’S ROOM - NIGHT
The boy lays in his bed, asleep and dreaming soundly along
with the sound of a woman’s SINGING.
The SINGING is slowly replaced by a deafening amount of
STATIC and VOICES. The boy wakes in shock to the noise, and
stumbles to his feet.
Confused, he stands still and closes his eyes, breathing
deeply. The sounds begin to lower, but then stop.
The boy open’s his eyes, fear filling his face as the sound
of STATIC and VOICES fill his head, yet not till bursting.
He falls to his knees and begins to rock back and forth.
CITY OF LIDIA - MONTAGE
INT. REPUBLIC OF LIDIA - GROCERY STORE - DAY
A women is busy at work in a grocery store. She falls to the
ground screaming, holding her head in her hands.
A group of men, Recruiters, walk into the grocery store
through the crowd of people standing over the women. One of
the Recruiters places a small device on her neck. The women
The Recruiters walk her to their vehicle out side.
EXT. REPUBLIC OF LIDIA - STREET - DAY
A man driving his vehicle, jumps and grabs his head in shock
as it’s filled with a crushing noise of STATIC and VOICES.
He swerves off the road and into a building.
Recruiters arrive and walk up to the crashed vehicle. They
open the vehicle door, and the man is still inside, rocking
back and forth. One of them place a small device on his neck
and he stops screaming.
The Recruiters walk the man to their vehicle.
EXT. REPUBLIC OF LIDIA - STREETS - DAY
SCREAMS of pain and fear fill the streets of Lidia, as
hundreds of Recruiters fill and scour the streets, Their
vehicles filling the streets of the city.
EXT. OUTER CITY - THE GROVE - MONTAGE
Recruiters walk and fill the streets and buildings,
searching. Groups of recruiters enter the hundreds of
buildings, as other groups exit with a person in their
custody, a small device flashing on their necks.
INT. SLUM BUILDING - DAY
A group of armed Recruiters walk through the dark
corridors, as people try their best to get out of their way.
What are we doing back in this
Scouts were receiving some strange
signal patterns in this area,
possibly a Corporation Cell.
So, here to investigate, and if
RECRUITER 3 locks and loads his weapon.
The squad of Recruiters come to a door, and position them
selves around it.
The squad burst into the room.
INT. SLUM BUILDING - LIVING SPACE - DAY
The squad discover a single man and a single women in the
room, force them to the ground, and search the room.
A pair move on to the other rooms but find nothing. Upon the
last room, they burst in, guns ready to fire.
INT. SLUM BUILDING - BOY’S ROOM - DAY
The boy sits in the corner of the room, completely oblivious
to the armed men, rocking back and forth. Not making a
single sound, eyes closed.
The Recruiters enter the room, and look at the boy
Have you ever seen that?
He’s suffering from A.S., but he’s
holding the full force of it back
somehow. I’ve never meet one that
Parks! Get me a reading!
Recruiter PARKS pulls from his belt pouch a scanning device
and holds it in front of the boy.
He’s reading hot sir. Sir…
What is it Parks?
This boy… the boy is the
disturbance, all signals around him
are being… bent away?
Snap him out of it, tag him!
Parks pulls a tag from his pouch and places it on the boy’s
neck, the tag begins to flash. The boy open’s his eyes.
Who are you. Where’s mom and dad?
What were you doing, just now?
The music. It helps keep the noise
out. Where’s mom and dad?
You’ve got new parents now.
The lead Recruiter turns from the boy, to his men.
Call HQ, tell them we have
something… something new.
EXT. OUTER CITY - THE GROVE - DAY
The group of armed Recruiters and the Boy exit the building.
They walk through the Grove as the other Recruiters go about
their work. But as they move through the slum the eyes of
everyone falls on the small boy and the armed Recruiters
escorting him, with guns drawn.
They arrive at their vehicle and help the boy in.
The Vehicle moves out, at the head of a progression of like
Vehicles, that run back endlessly into the slum
INT. RECRUITER VEHICLE - DAY
What are HQ’s orders?
The Recruiter driving answers.
We haven’t been able to get a clear
line. We’re getting nothing but
noise, there’s interference coming
All the Recruiter’s in the back of the vehicle look to each
other then at the young boy, who sits smiling deeply.
Can’t be. Is his tag working, he
should be shielded.
Recruiter Parks takes out a scanner and checks the tag.
No the tag is working properly,
but… He’s receiving signals any
way. Not signals…
The boy looks up to the Recruiters talking, but hears
nothing they say. Their voices are muted by the sound of a
RETURN TO SCENE:
RECRUITER PARKS (CONT’D)
Noise? He’s forcefully pulling
noise through the shield tag?
The Recruiters look at each other uncomfortably.
RETURN TO SCENE:
INT. RECRUITER PROCESSING CENTER - DAY
The Recruiter’s vehicle comes to a stop in a massive room,
lined with similar vehicles and other types.
A stream of people, escorted by Recruiters are making their
way through the room, to a white hall in the distance.
The vehicle door opens and the Recruiter’s hop out, still
carrying their guns at the ready. They make sure the area is
secure, and then motion for the boy to come out.
The boy steps out and looks at the cleanness of the room.
The Recruiters begin to move and the boy follows.
The boy looks ahead at the white hall, where everyone one is
headed, but then looks confused when the armed Recruiters
veer him to the right to a large elevator.
The boy enters the elevator, followed by the Recruiters, who
surround him, facing out as the elevator doors close.
INT. RECRUITER PROCESSING CENTER - SHUTTLE ROOM - DAY
The elevator opens, then the armed Recruiters exit, keeping
an eye on the perimeter.
The shuttle room is lined with, great tubes, which are
filled with open topped shuttles, that ride an electric
The boy is escorted to the arriving shuttle. With part of
the group of Recruiters sitting in front and the other
behind him, the shuttle moves down the rail at a ever
They travel a dark tunnel lined with lights, until up ahead,
day light strikes the tunnel tube.
INT./EXT. SHUTTLE TUNNEL/CITY OF LIDIA - DAY
The shuttle tube exits the walled tunnel and exits into the
open air of the city, miles into the air, yet still between
the countless spires, towers and sky scrapers that fill the
sky endlessly in the distance.
The shuttle travels through the tube, about the building
tops, and the boy raises from his seat in shock, at The City
INT. KARDON CORPORATION SCIENCE LABS - DAY
The shuttle stops inside a room part of the main lobby of
the building. Hundreds of people walk about, in fine dress
or lab coats, going about their task.
The boy exits the shuttle and is escorted through the the
crowds, surrounded by a perimeter of the armed Recruiters,
and the massive lobby pauses and watches their progression.
INT. OBSERVATION ROOM - DAY
The young boy sits in the middle of a room, void of any
color but white. A bright light shining on him from above,
leaving shadows in the corners of the room. One of the rooms
walls, was completely glass, that only reflected the young
He sits, frightened. A VOICE sounds in the room from the
What is your name?
And how do you feel, Akeno?
The room floods with signals, and AKENO grabs his head in
shock, closing his eyes, he rocks back and forth.
He begins to breath deeply, and the sounds of VOICES and
STATIC begin to fade, yet never leave him.
He looks up, shaking his head.
What are you doing, are you aware
of what you are doing, Akeno.
Breathing, it helps the noise stop.
Yes it does. Who trained you,
taught you how to, to breath?
The song, I learned from the song.
INT. OBSERVATION ROOM - OBSERVING ROOM - DAY
A group of men stand behind another, dressed in white lab
coats. In a dark narrow room, with one of it’s walls made of
a glass that looked in of young Akeno.
The man at the front of the group speaks, never looking away
from Akeno on the other side of the glass.
Interesting. Have him enter Tech
training, as all the others, but
keep a close eye on him. His
abilities to dampen signals around
him may mature into something else,
The men behind the man all node in agreement.
INT. KARDON CORPORATION TRAINING FACILITY - MONTAGE
In a massive room with a high ceiling, hundreds of young
children sit cross legged on the floor, all dressed
identically. They sit motionlessly, eyes closed, features
firm, Akeno sits among them.
In a large room, 50 young children sit upon the floor, each
of their eyes following the movement of their instructor, as
he walks back and forth across the front of the room.
INT. KARDON CORPORATION TRAINING FACILITY - BOARD ROOM - DAY
In a long room, lined with windows that run it’s length,
showing the city of Lidia on the other side. A long row of
children sit upon the floor, facing each other with a large
display screen between them. The display is sectioned into
small grid blocks. Their is one white block at the bottom of
the display, representing the child facing the display, and
a black block at the top of the display, representing the
child on the other side of the display. An image appears on
the screen of their Instructor.
These are gird boards, the object
of this exercise is to capture all
the grids. When a grid is being
contested by your opponent, the
grid will begin to flash, giving
you warning. So you must capture
grids as quickly as possible, and
over ride the grids your opponent
has already taken… understood?
The children all node to their INSTRUCTOR.
Good, then begin.
The children close their eyes, some of their faces straining
with concentration. At first the grids light slowly towards
the opposite side of the board, but soon the children get
the trick of it and girds begin to flash endlessly across
the boards of the room, a small noise sounding as a child
wins a match.
Akeno sits with eyes close like the rest, his face calm
without effort. The board before him lighting up faster then
any other, and sounding with a small noise. Faster and
faster Akeno wins his matches, until there is hardly a
second between the beginning of a match and the sounding of
a winners NOISE. His board springing with life, with lights,
devouring his opponents grids in a flash.
As Akeno continues to consecrate harder and harder, a faint
sound begins to fill his head, the sound of SINGING. He
slowly opens his eyes, then slowly turns his head to look
behind him at the Lidia city scape. The sound grows.
The sound of the winners NOISE, sounding off constantly
draws the attention of all the other children in the room,
they all open their eyes to look down the row at Akeno, all
other games stopping, only his board lighting up.
Akeno board flashes with light, but stops, the sound of
SINGING leaving his head. He turns from the window and looks
at the board, a confusion covering his face. He bends and
looks around the board to his opponent. He sees the child on
the other side, sweating profusely and breathing heavy, eyes
closed with exhaustion.
Akeno bends himself straight again then notices the stares
of the other children, and attempts to shrink in size,
bringing his arms and head close to his body.
A door opens at the far end of the room, the Instructor
enters and walks down to Akeno’s board, on the other side
and checks up on the exhausted child.
Are you okay?
The Child nodes to him. The Instructor motions for the child
to move to the side, and he takes the child’s seat.
Akeno tight in his ball, notices nothing until his boards
begins to light up. He looks up and sees a small grouping of
white lights, slowly being to flicker and turn black. He
straightens himself, then closes his eyes.
The white grids, all of them stop flickering. The ring of
black grids around his white begin to flash, then turn
white, but then the same black grids begin to flash again,
turning back to black.
Akeno concentration deepens as his face begins to reveal
just how how much, but his features begin to loosen and calm
as the sound of SINGING grows within his head. Akeno opens
his eye’s and turns again to the city behind him, the
SINGING grows louder.
The Instructor sits, eyes closed, face calm as he captures
another one of Akeno’s girds. But then the board remains
still for a second, and the Instructors’ face begins to
reveal confusion. One of his blocks begin to flash, one
lining Akeno’s last remaining grid, then another on the
opposite side of the board, then another, and another. The
Instructors face begins to strain, and he opens his eyes as
everyone of his grids begin to flash. As he looks on in
disbelief, everyone of his blocks are captured and the
winners NOISE sounds. Akeno stands, and walks to the side of
the board and bows to the Instructor.
Teacher, how is it a Technician is
granted permission to leave the
The Instructor looks up to the Akeno, he’s head still bent
waiting on his reply, and smiles to him proudly.
Technician’s are the very reason
the world is able to function.
There is no service or commodity
valued greater, and no item more
sought. To be able to leave Kardon
premises a Technician must be of
weapon grade, so that they may
protect themselves if need be.
Akeno looks up, turns to the window behind him then back to
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