Update By Mario Brce

Mario Brce All Rights Reserved. SECOND DRAFT

Sydney, Australia. +61 402 730 227


INT. COMPLEX - NIGHT DARKNESS. The soft lulling BUZZ of electricity and air venting into the room. Perry Como’s ’Magic Moments’ plays through a scratchy digital recording as little green lights illuminate the scene: an entire city indoors.




A clinical white room flooded with green light imprisons a young man as he lies awkwardly in bed. He groans painfully. Bed sheets are thrown away to reveal TOM’s tired face. He desperately buries his eyes in his arms to block out the light and the incessant ELECTRONIC BUZZING of the halo-like apparatus above his bed. TOM grabs the halo device above his head. He pulls himself up to towards it till it surrounds his face. His drearily tired gaze screams at us insanely. The green light from the halo illuminating his madness. A monitor besides Tom’s bed reads: "ATTEMPTING UPDATE" The music comes to its final crescendo. Tom releases a cry of agony. Tom flicks on the lights by brushing a metal pad on the wall. The music stops. Reality breaks. The green is finally obliterated by the clinical white fluorescent lighting. The monitor continues beeping quietly: "UPDATE FAILED". TOM (VO) I tried to sleep... I tried. He stumbles around the room, blindly bumping into walls in search of his grey clothes. PROFESSOR (VO) What kept you up? Tom leans his head on a white wall, gathering enough energy to put on a plain jumper on his plain pajamas. TOM (VO) Noises... Thoughts... Questions...




PROFESSOR (VO) You won’t find any answers in those updates Tom. 3 INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY Tom throws himself into an old leather arm-chair. The tired bags under his eyes liken him to a sick drug patient. The room has a classic rustic feel to it. PROFESSOR When was the last time you remember falling asleep? Meet the professor: his skin carries the markings of countless decades and yet there is not an element of fragility about him. Tom pauses groggily, investing great energy in responding. TOM Three weeks ago. Tom remains slumped on the arm-chair. He looks at us through the window. 4 EXT. OUTSIDE THE COMPLEX Outside, a world of desert sandstorms and smog strangle the sun rays as they attempt to hit Tom’s face. We move away to see Tom; a window, a key-hole halfway fortress spanning hundreds chimneys and exhausts pump 5 INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY The Professor and Tom are both staring out the window. Tiny dust particles drift through the suffocated rays of sunlight. A breath. PROFESSOR Tom! Tom snaps out of it. The professor stares at him. PROFESSOR Let’s begin. Tom sits at a large mahogany table basking in the filtered light from the window. A head statue of Socrates overlooks his work from a shelf. (CONTINUED) mere face through a small up a monolithic concrete of storeys into the sky. Vents, smoke into the atmosphere.



Tom writes directly onto the table surface. The virtual desktop displayed on it transforms his handwriting into type. Folders and documents digitally draw themselves onto the table surface in a bright electric blue colour. The professor dumps a stack of utterly dilapidated books on the table. The digital graphics fly-away from the impact. Tom looks at him in dismay. PROFESSOR They don’t mention everything in the updates. Tom inspects the tattered pile. TOM Like what? The professor smiles. PROFESSOR Paper. The professor turns his back to leave. Tom looks in between one of the pages amongst a RED BOOK. He pinches something sandwiched within and gives it a swift pull. A lose piece of PAPER floats down from the table landing on the floor. Tom approaches it, unfolding it with care. There, cocooned amongst worn paper and graphite pencil scribblings, lies a perfectly preserved FOUR-LEAF CLOVER. Tom folds the paper back on the table, bracing the clover between his fingertips. PROFESSOR There’s no sugar but I might go down and fetch... Tom scrambles to conceal the clover. The professor approaches with a steaming cup of tea. He spots the red book on top of the pile. PROFESSOR ...Ha. How’d that get mixed in there. He swiftly picks up the book and puts down the tea.


CONTINUED: PROFESSOR Continue, I’m just going to put this into storage. Oh and Tom... TOM Yeah? PROFESSOR Try some tea before bed.


The professor points at the steaming cup of tea on the table. He hits a metal pad next to the automatic doors granting him access to the corridor and exits. Tom twiddles the clover in the smog muffled sunlight piercing through the window. 6 INT. BEDROOM - MORNING A monitor besides Tom’s bed reads: "UPDATE FAILED" A soft ALARM goes off. He groans and hastily gets up. 7 INT. ELEVATOR Tom stands in a spotless elevator, lights flicker over his face as it descends. 8 INT. CORRIDOR Tom reaches an electronic panel. He pushes his thumb against it. It acknowledges him with a pleasant beep. TOM Professor? Are you in there? That tea did shit all, I’m practically sleep walking. No response. TOM Hello? --Professor? Tom swipes a security pass against the panel. A SYNTHESIZED VOICE grants him access. 9 INT. UNDERGROUND FLORA LABORATORY The automatic sliding doors HISS OPEN, a flood of air brushes over Tom as he enters. Smoky condensation occludes Tom’s view as the incessant noise of refrigeration and hissing vapors resound around him. In the background a news reportage can be heard.




NEWSREADER (OS) ...the committee will meet with chancellor Filippo today... He walks into the vapors. Suddenly something grabs him. PROFESSOR Tom?! He takes him aside. PROFESSOR For fuck’s sakes its the middle of the night, what are you doing here? CUT-TO: The smoke has cleared. Sterile white shelves and walls. Row upon row of plant samples floating in the center of self-regulated bell-shaped stasis chambers. The blue glow from the electronics of each capsule lighting up the plant within. NEWSREADER (OS) ... plans to roll out a revolutionary package of updates to the populous... Tom wanders the rows, engrossed in the vast universe between the walls of each small glass capsule. Little daffodils suspended in mid air, small samples of grass and flowers float weightlessly on their own mid-air islands within the capsules. PROFESSOR There was a time, that might seem too distant in the past for you now, when this planet was covered with a different colour. Tom stares through the rows of glass and capsules, brushing over them, each entrapping a tiny relic of plant life. TOM They’re like something I’ve seen in a dream. PROFESSOR These are the few samples that have survived.




The professor grabs a tiny jar from the shelf. With one motion he twists the bottom. A blue glow fades on. He places the clover inside and seals it. Atmosphere rushes into the jar, cushioning it in weightless safety. He hands it to Tom. The news story continues on the holographic TV. On it is FILIPPO, a dull man resembling all the dictators of the 20th century. FILIPPO (VO) ...To my citizens, my colleagues, to my friends, to our community. To our family... We move into the screen. 10 INT. MAIN ATRIUM A vast chamber, like all of Times Square indoors. The arena is crowded with people. Above them Chancellor Filippo, his words booming across the crowd. FILIPPO Soon we will see a change that will bring us together. CONTINUOUS 11 INT. LARGE SIDE HALL People in other parts of the complex stand at attention to witness holographic displays relaying Filippo’s message. They watch Filippo like drones. Children in the back row running to see what the excitement is. FILIPPO (VO) Tomorrow, on the night of September twenty-first, you will receive a glorious gift as you fall asleep. The ultimate update. CONTINUOUS 12 INT. COMMITTEE BOARDROOM Slow motion, in mute except Filippo’s voice-over. Filippo sits amongst other officials. He is delivering them a momentous appeal. The words "CHOOSE UPDATE 2109" are flashed across holograms.




FILIPPO (VO) Version two-one-o-nine will finally bring the world together. Gone are the days of disagreement... SERIES OF SHOTS The PROFESSOR is amongst them. He rises above the table yelling over the room in outrage. Everyone in the room begins shouting across the table. Filippo’s well dressed entourage calmly takes control of the conversation. They send an arrogant smile across the room to the professor. A few other humbly dressed men remorsefully pat the professor’s shoulder and storm out of the room. FILIPPO (VO) ...war, judgment, quarrel, discontent. Imagine a world where everyone could think like you. The professor is overruled. Filippo’s grin eats our attention. Filippo receives outward applause from the remaining representatives. CONTINUOUS 13 INT. LIVING QUARTERS A few children are joyfully running around in their pajamas. FILIPPO (VO) A world where everyone was your best friend. Your adopted sibling. Their loving parents are tucking them into bed as the halo update device slowly lowers over each of their innocent faces. FILIPPO (VO) Your loved family. Two lovers are embracing each other in bed under the steady green ominous glow of the halo update device. CONTINUOUS

8. 14 INT. CONTROL ROOM Technicians are entering data into a wide green holographic computer interface. FILIPPO (VO) Tomorrow this dream becomes our new reality with the completion of decades of direct cerebral education. "AMENDING ARCHIVES" is displayed on the computer holograph alongside a progress bar. CONTINUOUS 15 INT. MAIN ATRIUM A large holographic screen in the center of the square delivers the conclusion of the chancellor’s announcement. FILIPPO At the dawn of a new era. As one. He is greeted by an unholy UPROAR of cheer from his immense audience. 16 INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY The professor throws a book at us. We hear a glass CRASH. The whole apartment has been ransacked. TOM What the hell is going on? PROFESSOR I can’t find it! The professor turns over another bookshelf, throwing the contents into the air. He scrambles to rummage through a concealed parcel. TOM Find what?! PROFESSOR My pass, my old fucking pass. We see the statue of Socrates wobble on the shelf. The professor heaves it at a wall narrowly missing Tom, it explodes into a white cloud of tiny pieces. The professor drops to the ground picking at it in search of something. Gasping for air, he pathetically collapses onto the wall, sliding onto the floor. (CONTINUED)



CUT TO: The professor is wrapped in a blanket, cradling his tea. TOM I’ll come back in the morning. PROFESSOR Don’t believe anything they tell you Tom. 17 INT. CHANCELLOR CHAMBERS Furnished with chrome. Chancellor Filippo sits at his grandeur glass table. A set of double DOORS burst open. The professor leaps onto the Chancellor pinning him onto the table while holding him by the collar of his shirt. PROFESSOR Cancel the update! With his elbow he bludgeons the Chancellor in the nose. Blood across stainless glass. PROFESSOR You can’t version people! The chancellor picks up a glass display with his gloved hands and strikes the professor over the head, he throws him to the wall. We see a necklace break off the chancellor as the professor hits the perfectly clean white wall like a bloody stain. The DOOR bursts open. Men dressed in black and white rush in. FILIPPO Make him a memory. Filippo attempts to recoup his dignity as he takes off his glove and wipes the blood off his nose. They grab the professor. He is dragged out. We see a necklace in his hand.

10. 18 INT. DETENTION CELL Steel bars slide passed Tom’s face. The gentle sounds of Perry Como’s ’Magic Moments’ plays somewhere in the distance from a scratchy speaker. GUARD Clear! A BUZZER sounds, a DOOR rattles open. The professor is behind bars. They seem to go right through the ceiling and floor rather than merely being welded together. He is asleep under the MRI like update device haloing his head, illuminating him in a green glow. The device powers off. The professor begins to awaken, painfully. TOM Is it true? The professor wobbles groggily as if sedated. PROFESSOR No, Tom... No, they dreamt it up. They dreamt it all up for you. He stumbles forward and collapses onto the bars. Tom catches him between the gaps. Stillness. Beat. He grabs Tom by the arm, his fingers dig into Tom’s flesh. The professor glares at Tom with insane desperation, his very words cause him horrendous pain. PROFESSOR I must tell you something. Something I’ve forgotten... Forgotten to tell you. Tom rips off the professor’s claw-like hold on his arm. Tom holds his wounded forearm. There amongst the scratched skin and bruised flesh, a small digital card attached to a necklace has been pushed into his arm. GUARD Clear! A BUZZER opens the door. Tom scrambles to hide the card in his pocket. (CONTINUED)



Guards enter the room, escorting Tom out of the room. Tom catches a glance of the professor crawling on the floor through the bars. PROFESSOR You’re looking much more rested Tom. The door slams shut. The music builds. 19 INT. DARK CORRIDOR - NIGHT Green night. Tom walks down a dark corridor lit only by the harsh white down-lights brushing past his face and the residual green glow about the walls. He goes through door after door. Any external sound, light or fragment of reality is drowned out by the deafening noise of ventilation fans. He comes to a immense slick metal double-door locked together by a large halo-shaped lock. Infront of it a holographic display reads: "Central Data Storage Facility: RESTRICTED ACCESS". Tom withdraws the digital card and presents it to the hologram interface. Numbers and letters begin scrambling across a dotted line on the display. One by one they lock into place. "DIGITAL KEY AUTHENTICATED" is displayed. The doors are automatically hauled open. 20 INT. CENTRAL DATA STORAGE FACILITY Looking down, as if through a microscope, we see Tom emerge from the doorway like an insect into an enormous circular chamber. Green lights about the edges of the circle surround him like a halo and begin to climb the walls towards us. Tom watches the lights illuminate the gigantic data banks. Each pillar is labeled by a large number and is made up of smaller data storage racks that run across horizontally. He comes to a large half-moon console. A holographic display greets him. "CENTRAL DATA ARCHIVES: Next Update Version 2109" is displayed alongside a countdown timer with less than 3 hours remaining. He taps out something on the half-moon console. "ACCESS DENIED" is displayed. He tries again. It fails. (CONTINUED)



We see the slicing pixelated grid of the count-down timer’s glow reflect on Tom’s face. Tom lunges at the data banks. He tries to pry them open. He scrambles to find something to throw at them. The room is sterile, welded as one piece. He attacks the console. Not even a dent. He is bruised and out of breath, slumped over the console. Defeated, he begins to rise, the sweat off his brow being left behind on the perfect metal console. His breast pocket is open. The capsule encasing the clover falls-out. Silence. It descends through the atmosphere... and crashes onto the console. The glass capsule shattering across the surface. It is instantaneously analysed. "SEARCHING..." the holograph reads. Every single data bank in the room lights up. "21st Century Records..." is displayed. We become absorbed in the holograph display cascading its light over Tom’s drearily tired face: The digital image of a clover. Latin plant names in all their infinities. Now entire flower beds. Endless horizons of open woodlands and rain forests. The green country side. Spectacular cliff faces where green hills meet the ocean. People enjoying sunny days at beaches. The colours of outdoor festivals. Tom reaches out, trying to touch the images. His shaky hand falls right through the holograph. Now it’s the famous Blue Marble photograph from NASA taken from space. Our planet, still healthy. Everything stops. "UPDATE IN PROGRESS Version 2109" is displayed. Beat. "ARCHIVE ENTRY DELETED" Everything begins to rewind. One by one, each record is deleted.

13. 21 INT. DARK CORRIDOR - NIGHT A SWAT team advance down a dark corridor. Nothing but their powerful RED laser-scopes fixed onto their weapons illuminate the scene. 22 INT. CENTRAL DATA STORAGE FACILITY We look towards the ceiling with Tom: The lights of each data bank begin to go out randomly across the walls, disappearing exponentially. Now all that is left is the eternal green glow of the ceiling lights around the top edges of the wall, hovering like a demonic halo hundreds of stories above Tom’s head. We see its reflection in Tom’s eyes. ’Magic Moments’ begins to play quietly yet again. Tom is estranged by the origin of the noise. 23 INT. DARK CORRIDOR - NIGHT The SWAT team come to the reinforced halo-shaped double-door. ALPHA LEADER Open it. 24 INT. SERVICE CORRIDOR - NIGHT Blue night. The music builds. Tom runs down a dark corridor bathed in blue neon light. 25 INT. CENTRAL DATA STORAGE FACILITY A large black military boot treads on the empty shattered glass capsule laying on the floor. The music begins to suffocate us. 26 INT. UPDATE FARM The music disappears back into a distant scratchy speaker. We see Tom’s face peacefully sleeping, under the ominous green glow of a halo update device. A monitor displays: "UPDATING VERSION ..." "SUCCESS" appears. (CONTINUED)



Tom’s face smiles under the cascading green. We look past his bed witnessing the hundreds of people laying next to him, all under the same halo like glow. Peacefully sleeping, in their own isolated cell in the grid. Tom’s hand lies clasped by his side. A foreign gloved hand gently opens it. There amongst his fingers, the four-leaf clover lies crinkled and torn. It’s colour monochromatic under the pure green light of the room. The gloved hand takes it away from Tom. Our view becomes distorted and pixelated, overwhelmed with static. "ARCHIVE ENTRY DELETED" is displayed on screen. BLACK.

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