THE RED FIELD CHOIR

By

Marcus Barlow
 PART 1: C.Y.O
TEASER

1 EXT. DUST ROAD THROUGH THE JUNGLE (PLANET: FN279 -

PLOTASIUM MINING DEPOSIT.771; INFINITY 8.INC) - NIGHT
(JUNE 21, 3031)
The road is silent. Only the faint noises of the wildlife
whispers through the musky air as the moon dimly
illuminates the road and the long consuming branches of
the jungle trees arch over, protected by a blanket of
large green plants.
Out of the green shrubs stumbles a small beast, closely
resembling the appearance of a clouded leopard; but its
fur is a beautiful midnight purple and its eyes glisten an
envy green. It stiffly comes to a jolt in the middle of
the road. Its ears perk and it’s eyes scan the area,
investigating the green walls of the jungle.

SOUND: DISTANT ENGINES

The beast startles at the sound of the engines raging
through the jungle’s silence as they crash closer and it
scurries away into the darkness.

The road becomes whitewashed by an ocean of artificial

light; invading the black of the night and painting the
jungle life a new clinical colour. the sound of the
engines roar through the air is they grow ever nearer.
A convoy of gunmetal grey armoured vehicles storm through
the dust. Embedded on their body: ’INFINITY 8. C.Y.O
DIV.12’ across the side. Suddenly, the entire convoy
cracks to a stop and the lights dim.
The door of the first car bolts open and a large military
boot crashes into the dust. Out climbs a black figure,
covered from head to toe in shimmering black armour. The
helmet is like that of a medieval knight -- but futuristic
-- almost like the masks you can buy to go paint balling
-- merged with shiny black polymer and a shaded visor over
the eyes, finished with the tagline on the side of the
helmet (ECU): ’INFINITY 8. C.Y.O DIV.12. UNIT 3’. Slamming
the door behind him, UNIT 3, with his rifle firmly gripped
by his knuckled guarded black leather hands begins to edge
away from the car, towards the obstruction...
NEW ANGLE - A POLE

Is pierced into the ground. And tied up against the

POLE...
... A BODY. Dressed in a snow white military officer suit
with a plastic red leather sword sash fitted across the
chest. And printed above his service medals: ’INFINITY 8’

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 2.

and on the collar:’C.Y.O’. He is a captain in the INFINITY

8. C.Y.O MILITIA -- and his head is replaced with the
skull of a CHIMPANZEE -- with a RED LIGHT FLASHING IN THE
LEFT EYE.

UNIT 3 moves closer and bends down to inspect the skull;

leaning in to investigate the eye. THE LIGHT stops
flashing...
... BOOM!

UNIT 3 is rocketed into the sky -- in around fifty pieces.

PANIC! Suddenly, the convoy is under siege. Bullets spark
off the side of the vehicles, bouncing into the dust. The
entire DIVISION bursts out of the vehicles and begin to
return fire -- at what seems to be nothing -- the bullets
are bursting out from the leaves, but who is firing them
is unclear. THE UNITS spray their gun fire into the trees,
hoping to hit someone.
UNIT 12 reaches back into the truck and retrieves a ROCKET
LAUNCHER and equips it with a ROCKET and fires into the
trees, blasting them down and setting the barks ablaze.
UNIT 7 (FLAME UNIT),equipped with a large petrol canister
and a spray pipe bursts the jungle into fire. The enemy is
becoming clear.
A line of men come running out of the burning green as
balls of fire and collapse onto the dust where they are
met by bullets.

A foreign cry bursts out from the trees. An enemy

signalling a charge. And out from the black storms a swift
wind of men with black skin, dressed in scruffy clothes,
carrying metal and wooden scraps for guns at their waist,
spraying the area around them with led.

NEW ANGLE - UNIT 8

Is crawling on the ground, bleeding from his legs as he
shuffles his way behind the large armoured truck where is
met by a towering death with a machete gripped in his
right hand. UNIT 8 reaches his hand up, begging for
mercy...
... A blade bursts its way through the REBEL’s chest. And
down he falls, smacking his face into the dust.
NEW ANGLE - UNIT 7

Stops raining flames onto the jungle. All the REBELS have
been killed -- their blood now soaking into the dust with
the blood of: UNIT 9, 4, 13 and 3. The UNITS scan the area
for more REBELS and hold for a beat. Nothing. They all cry
out in cheer.

(CONTINUED)
 CONTINUED: 3.

From behind the TRUCK, a WOMAN appears. In one hand she

holds a LONG STEEL SWORD SMEARED IN BLOOD and in the other
hand, a LARGE BLACK PISTOL. Her hair is long and white,
cutting across the bottom of her neck.

She investigates her surrounding through her sky blue eyes

(ECU). The orange tint of the fire reflecting on her face.
SOUND: CRUNCH OF A TWIG

Her eyes spring wide open.

ROCKETS fly in from the jungle, destroying the convoy. The
armoured vehicles burst into fire, sending shrapnel into
the UNITS. And bullets begins to bounce of the metal
again.

The WOMAN jolts her head LEFT at UNIT 7. A bullet hits the
petrol canister...
... She is blown across the battlefield and smacks down
into the burning jungle. Both of her legs and the left
forearm nowhere to be seen -- leaving behind torn strings
of flesh and destroyed bone covered in blood. She is
bleeding out. FAST.
She stares up at the sky, visible through the burning
branches. A figure stands over her and rests the BARREL OF
THEIR GUN AT HER EYES. She awaits for the bullet to find
her skull...
FADE TO BLACK
ACT ONE

CHAPTER ONE: THE HOSTEL FOR INJURED VETERANS

2 EXT. HOSTEL INTERIOR GARDEN - DAY (MARCH 12, 3032)
SOUND: METRONOME TICKING

All sound it muted -- we can only here the METRONOME.

The wind blows gently against the soft pink leaves hugging
the snow white trees.

TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK.

NEW ANGLE - WIDE OF THE GARDEN
The grass is a pale green (almost white) with rivers of
white stones flowing through and around the white trees
with the pink leaves. Small water features are spread out
over the sheet of white.
NEW ANGLE - FOUNTAIN

(CONTINUED)
 CONTINUED: 4.

The water silks down into a crystal pool -- reflecting the

scenic garden back at us.
TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK.

FADE TO:
3 INT. HOSTEL CORRIDOR - DAY
SOUND: METRONOME (CONTINUED)

The corridor is as clinical as it comes. Whitewashed

floors and white walls with a long wooden beam cutting
along the middle and running along one side, large glass
plate windows for the daylight to flush in. Down the
ceiling large rectangular LED lights tint the corridor a
pale blue.
Nurses with patients and doctors with papers shift up and
down the white floor -- heading somewhere and nowhere.
TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK

FADE TO:
4 INT. PATIENTS’ ROOMS - DAY
SOUND: METRONOME (CONTINUED)

The rooms are bland -- lacking any home quality -- with no

sense of welcome, or of any life. A bed, plain, fitted
with a pale blue quilt and white pillow lays in the middle
of the room with a oak bedside table next to it, a small
dresser sits at the wall opposite to the bottom of them
bed -- on top: pictures and mementos of lives lived and
people lost.
Some patients sit up in their beds sipping medicines from
a spoon held by doctors with papers on their lap; others
sat in wheel chairs receiving injections in their arms --
all with blank faces and destroyed dignities.
TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK.
FADE TO:

5 EXT. HOSTEL INTERIOR GARDEN - DAY

SOUND: METRONOME (CONTINUED)
We are back in the picturesque garden. The wind still
breathes through the leaves. A peaceful place. A solitude.
A hell.
NEW ANGLE - POND

(CONTINUED)
 CONTINUED: 5.

A WOMAN lingers in a wheel chair, dressed in pale cloths

provided by the hostel to their patients. Her hair is
white, her eyes are sky blue...
... The WOMAN from before; but she has both arms and legs.
Her skin is almost bleached, almost the colour of a dead
person -- and accompanied with the white hair, she almost
disappears into the garden.
On her lap, the METRONOME ticking away.

A NURSE, dressed in clinical blue overalls approaches from

behind, walking across the white stones. The badge on her
chest titles ’RIKKA’. She rests her hand onto the WOMAN’s
shoulder speaks to her. The WOMAN looks up at her. We
can’t hear what she is saying. Only the METRONOME.

RIKKA takes hold of the wheelchair and pushes the WOMAN

down the white stones and into the building.
TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK.

FADE TO:
6 INT. DINING HALL - DAY
SOUND: METRONOME

The WOMAN sits at a long fold out table -- like the ones
used in the school dining halls. In front of her is a ball
of pale yellow porridge, barely warm. Next to it, a slice
of cold toast and a clear plastic cup of water.
Around her are the other patients scoffing and slurping
away,or drooling down themselves, unable to move their
mouths and hands to eat due to the amount of drugs in
their system.
Next her, RIKKA is trying to feed the porridge to her on a
spoon.
TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK.
FADE TO:

7 INT. RECREATION ROOM - EVENING

SOUND: METRONOME
Patients are lugged in chairs reading, playing board
games, at the table tennis table tapping the ping pong
ball on the floor. The Woman is sat on the edge of the
group in a chair across from RIKKA, split by an untouched
chess board.
TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK.

FADE TO:
 6.

8 INT. THE WOMAN’S ROOM - NIGHT

SOUND: METRONOME

Her room is identical to all the others -- except from the

dresser -- no pictures and mementos of times gone by.
Nothing at all is rested on top of the dresser. Nothing at
all.
The WOMAN sits in her bed, being tucked in by RIKKA. The
METRONOME ticks away on the bedside table, next to the
lamp -- dimly lighting the room.
RIKKA has finished. She smiles at the WOMAN and gives her
an avuncular wink. RIKKA stops the METRONOME.

SOUND: DISTANT VOICES, FAINT FOOTSTEPS AND COUGHS.

RIKKA walks towards the door and leaves.
The WOMAN sits still in her bed. A tear rolls softly down
her check from her sky blue eye.

SILENCE.
FADE TO BLACK

CHAPTER TWO: LOOK AT WHAT THE WIND BLEW IN

9 INT. THE WOMAN’S ROOM - MORNING
The wind flows through the open window and past the stream
of pale blue cotton hanging down by each side and drowns
the room with a warm soft breeze.
Gently, it brushes the hair from the WOMAN’s face. As her
hair strokes down the side of her cheek, her sky blue eyes
slowly creep open.

She pulls the bed covers down and slowly perches herself
up to sit. Looking down to the left of her, a breakfast of
soft golden pancakes and a tempting silky jar of syrup
sits on the bedside table, accompanied by a crystal orange
cup of tea; but no METRONOME...

Her heart drops deep into her chest. Where is it? She
glances around the room in a frantic search with her eyes.
There, on top of the dresser, the METRONOME.
She sits and fixes her eyes onto it. She has no clue how
she will get there. She looks down at her legs and
tightens her eyes close in frustration and self pity. She
uses her RIGHT ARM to pull the covers from her legs.
Her legs are still and stiffly placed on the bed. On her
RIGHT THIGH a part of the artificial skin has faded away
and the mechanical skeleton glimpses through. She sighs

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 7.

internally and pulls her LEFT ARM up to present it in

front of her. Her fingers twitch ever so slightly. She
shakes her head as her breath begins to grow restless and
she places her arm down.

She sits rigid and stares at the METRONOME. How will she
get to it?
She scans around the room. There, by the door, next to the
chair, A PAIR OF CRUTCHES. She stares at her legs again.

She prepares herself and takes hold of her LEFT LEG and
pulls it off the bed -- smacking the disguised metal onto
the floor.
She takes a breath and pulls the other off the bed -- once
again it smacks against the floor. She perches on the end
of the bed. SO far, so good.
She rest her stomach on the bed and slowly descends off
the bed.

NEW ANGLE - THE FLOOR

She falls hardly onto the floor -- bending her legs with
her body. Hovers over the cold clinical floor as she takes
a breath. She composes herself and begins to drag herself
across the ground. slowly she edges towards the crutches.
She arrives after struggling to pull the heavy heap of
metal behind her, using only her RIGHT ARM. She grasps
hold of the chair and pulls herself towards it and turns
her body abound to be sat against the legs of the chair
and slowly pulls herself up onto the soft blue cushioned
surface. She’s half way there.
She takes another breath -- preparing herself mentally and
physically for the journey.

She takes hold of the crutches and pulls them down to her;
resting one under her LEFT ARM and resting the hand on the
handle and takes hold of the other with her RIGHT ARM.
She pulls herself up from the chair slowly and stiffly
until she stands on both of her feet. She looks over at
the METRONOME, determined to get it.
Using her RIGHT ARM at a lead, she pulls herself towards
the METRONOME, dragging her legs behind her.
CLOSER AND CLOSER she comes to getting to her METRONOME.

Finally, she arrives at the dresser. The METRONOME stands

tall over her. A new challenge has risen -- how will she
carry it back from the dresser?

(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 8.

The WOMAN gently rests the crutch against the the dresser
and with her RIGHT HAND, pulls the METRONOME to her and
curls it under her arm. She takes hold of her crutch and
again and begins the journey back to her bed.

As she struggles across the wasteland of the medical rest

room floor the METRONOME slowly begins to slip from under
her arm.
IT FALLS. It hits the ground hard and finds itself under
her crutch. The crutch falls from under her and she comes
crashing down to the floor with force...
CUT BLACK
A beat later, she wakes. Her face crushed against the
floor and the her white hair drawing her -- she is in a
position of total vulnerability. In her eye line,
splinters of wood and bits of metal.
Her eyes close with pain. She pulls herself up and sits
against the dresser and looks down at her legs -- where
the broken METRONOME now sits.
Her eyes fill and burst out a waterfall of tears as she
struggles to grip on to her frantic breath.

She sits and stares at the METRONOME as her vision blurs

with tears...
SOUND: DOOR CREEPING OPEN
MAN’S VOICE (O.S)
Hiro?
His gentle silk like voice is familiar to her. That
AMERICAN ACCENT is so distinctive. She looks up at him.
NEW ANGLE - THE MAN AT THE DOOR

His long turquoise over coat hovers inches from the ground
-- nothing fancy -- accompanied by the cheap grey suit
that is exposed by the open coat - and his scruffy brushed
hair zig-zagging down the back of his head -- like a
scruffy DALE COOPER from TWIN PEAKS.

His soft brown pitiful eyes invades her soul with a voice
of concern and sorrow as they pan from her to the broken
metronome and back.
The two linger in the stretched moment.

THE MAN breaks contact as he leans back out of the door.

THE MAN
(calling down the hall)
Nurse?

(CONTINUED)
 CONTINUED: 9.

A nurse slips her way into the room, but HIRO’s attention
doesn’t distract from the man at the door.
The nurse is kneels to the floor as she cleans the broken
shards of the metronome into her hand. Hiro’s eyes never
twitch.
10 INT. RECREATION ROOM - LATER
The man sits over by the window in a large pale chair
against the creamy white wall next to the teal curtains.
The man sits waiting for Hiro.