TRANSCRIPT

EPISODE 1

VAMONOS

SCENE 1 INTRO.

TITLE MUSIC

NES:                              

It was 1900 on a Wednesday when The Robes came. It was 2200 on a Thursday when I took my last breath. In the short weeks between those two moments, we changed the world... At least, I hope we did.

I'm not the best at telling stories, and I haven't had a lot of practice. But mi abuelo could tell a tale so tall you'd think it was a skyscraper.

Maybe I got some of his blood, I don't know.

Some people think stories reach the truth of who we are. Some think they are the lies we tell ourselves so we can sleep at night. I don't know what the difference is, but I know I have a story that needs to be told, and since you are the poor soul that I reached, you're the one that gets to hear it.

Not just for me, but for the sake of what we created along the way. For the love we found, the sacrifice we witnessed, the hope we held onto, and all that other sappy stuff. If it couldn't save us, maybe it could save you.

I'm nobody special, the ones I was with were the true heroes... So let me tell you how I became the least important person in my story.

I'm Onesimo Chavez, and we are... Looking for Ultima.

END MUSIC CUE

SCENE 2 THE MARKET.

NES:                                      

I don't know who is listening, or what world you are from, but it's lovely to have you. You're tuned into the final memories of a 27 year old sapien with a magic rock and a talking guitar.

Mucho gusto.

In my language our world is called Tlalli. Beautiful planet, rotates around a star called Sol, turns on its axis once every 24 hours. I've seen a lot of it in videos and books, but I'm not a well traveled dude. I know there's a bunch of biospheres, which run the gamut from cloud forests to ice deserts. Our planet is still PYT, just over a billion years old, and the land is rich in active but isolated geothermal locations, which we are able to leverage for most of our energy needs. Lush growing land is abundant outside of the Havens.

I'm from a Haven called Pueblo, one of the smaller but more vibrant cities, located near a mountain range in a valley called Sangre. I like to think it's named for the blood red sunsets the jagged peaks slice into the soft clouds. It's a little macabre, but after all the sweat and tears our ancestors put into building these Havens, a little blood is sometimes a thing of beauty.

Like most Havens, ours was fairly diverse, providing refuge to sapiens, earthlings, dwarves, elves, goblins, and of course newly arrived, horned Lithu of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Our diversity was reflected in our market, Walter's Mercado. Once a temple dedicated to reading the stars, the market now hosted foods, spices, drinks, and supplies from all over the world. You could smell it for miles, and hear the cacophony of languages and laughter from the farthest reaches of our city. It was a great place, and although it's sometimes dangerous to travel through Robe territory, people came from havens all over the globe to see, hear, and of course... Taste it.

I mean just taking a walk through this place you've got injera, kimchi, perogi, xaio mai, and of course my favorite... The Latinx section... Tamales de queso, steaming empanadas, green chile, every type of bean in the world (and my mom only likes pinto, go figure)... If you were a chef, this would be the place of your dreams. Maybe it's why Pueblo has the highest concentration of fine dining establishments on Tlalli.

When I was little my Tio Valo taught me how to cook pozole, a traditional family dish. I remember when they first brought me to this market to buy the ingredients... The smell of fresh oregano and nixtamalized maiz mingling in my nose as vendors shouted mesmerizing calls for spices, calabasas, frijol, y mas... Gritos for 1 pound of this or that. It was like hearing 3 songs at once, but somehow they all wove together... Confusing, entrancing, improbable.

Earthlings from the west brought special spices that numbed your mouth with a charming tingle. Dwarves brought beer, brewed deep in the mountains from fresh snow melt, covered in blue runes to keep them as cool as the day they were brought out. And the goblins, their tech was out of this world, they could fix anything for you before you even knew it was broken. It was a beautiful assault on my senses, and it filled my head with the possibility of adventure.

But the Lithu... God damn the Lithu. They had the best stuff, because they had to improvise. Being orange with curled horns and fresh off the magic boat from a completely different dimension will do that to you. They would find foods similar enough to their traditional ingredients, and transmute them to be even closer to what they were used to.

At first it was hidden, but as the Lithu became more comfortable with us, as we did them, it was hard to keep under wraps... I mean it was tastes and feelings you've literally never had before because they didn't exists! It was glorious. And their music, the rhythms, the voices... It moved me. I think it's what inspired me to become a musician. They started that metronome up and it never stopped clicking.

I could barely take it all in as my Tio dragged me from stall to stall, greeting with an onion dealer here, chatting with a cilantro seller there... Everyone knew Tio, but nobody knew much about him. He was a quietly kind man. Had a panza that you could rest a cerveza on, olive brown skin, and thick salt and pepper hair that he combed back with a finger loop pocket comb. He couldn't leave the house without a jalapeno in his front shirt pocket, and he had a stick and poke tattoo on his right index finger that read "Mamá". Tio never learned how to read or write, having grown up in Robe territory, with just enough Plat to stay alive and under the radar.

When he was 15 he escaped a planted conviction for drug trafficking (the Robes were running low on workers...), and made his way to Pueblo, where he worked in these very stands, nixtamalizing and selling maiz for 40 years.

He spoke very few words in his accented Common, but when he did, they were usually filled with a contentment with life, and sort of earnest happiness that endeared him to everybody around. It's no wonder every street kid that grew up in these stalls looks up to him. He was everybody's grandpa. But for me... He was my Tio. And he loved us and this world like a miracle loves a doubt.

He was there when I yelped my first grito to the chik-it-ey strum of El Rey (short sound design music cue here). He laughed along with a Lithu who was so impressed that he handed me his son's old guitar. He taught me how to lose at poker with dignity, and how to pick crawdads right out of the rio.  And man did he love to cook... He was the first person who took me to the mercado. And he was with me when I ran away for the last time.

SCENE 3 THE ROBES BREAK IN.

TIO VALO:                           

"Hito, go grab the frijol"

NES:                                      

Tio shouted from across the cobbled streets. I walked over to Mr. Bean's place and held up 2 fingers. The steam arm got to scooping. I loved watching it work... His tech was so old, but Mr. Bean was proud of it. He was one of the first elves to set up shop in the Mercado, and was married to Mrs. Bean, an earthling with a knack for the legumic arts (he took her name, obvi). They had the best beans in the whole Haven, and they saved the freshest ones for us. I held my coder up to the register and 3.75 Plat transferred instantly with that satisfying "ding!". I turned around and held up the beans for Tio, when a notification caught my eye.

Robes Flyover (Watch live video).

My buddy Vuong must have been painting a mural and caught a look at another Robe flyover. I was waiting for Tio to finish buying tomatoes so I flipped it open to look.

I saw a rooftop and a half finished mural. Over the top of the wall, I saw a helicopter, matte white, red blades. I could tell because the blades are standing perfectly still as the copter moved towards the camera. This happens sometimes when the framerate of a video syncs up with the rotation speed of the blades. It's quite... unsettling. The fact that it was a Robe helicopter only served to increase my unease.

The camera turned around and there are more coming over the mountains, the sky was dimming with them, all moving towards the city, all blades perfect still and red against the painted blue sky.

BREAK

"It's ok", there's no way they can get through the shield, the shield is impenetrable, redundant, and manned 24 hours a day, 365 days of the year. It rapidly refreshes through various quantum positions, making it impossible to penetrate or even really... I don't know, perceive as a part of reality? I sigh and hit dislike... Then close my coder. Sometimes the robes do these flyovers to try and scare us... I don't know what they expect to gain out of the exercise, maybe it feeds their overly devout egos. Most ignore it because of the shield.

Everybody with citizenship in the Commons is programmed into the shield on a genetic level, causing the shield to exit it's quantum state and allow us through the barriers. We're Schrodinger's citizens!

"Seis calabacitas, por favor!" I shout across the aisle as I grab my bag of beans and start walking. I get a call from Vuong.

NES:                                      

"Hey"

VUONG:                               

(PHONE FOR THIS SCENE) Nes they made it through

NES:                                      

What are you talking about?"

VUONG:                               

The Robes, they are through the shield

NES:                                      

Bullshit, Vuong, we both know that's impossible

VUONG:                               

I know, and you know, but the freaking helicopter that just flew over me, obviously doesn't, look

(HELICOPTER BLADES)

NES:                                      

He goes live for me again, and shows me the helicopters flying over him, right through the shield... As each does a body falls from it on the outside of the shield, unmoving, a rag doll, pearl horns catching the light, twinkling as they thud to the ground.

NES:                                      

Holy shit... Vuong, run dude turn off your coder and run!

VUONG:                               

I don't know what to do... Oh fuck there's one coming right at me...

NES:                                      

The feed fizzles out, as an explosion echoes in the distance

NES:                                      

Shit shit shit!

NES:                                      

Tio! TIO!" (REPEATS IN BACKGROUND)

I shouted for 10 minutes, but I couldn't find Tio. Once news spread everyone got out of the market quick. He was probably halfway home by now.

(CURSE UNDER BREATH. EXPLOSIONS NOISE AND GUNFIRE)

I grab my bags and start booking towards home, terrified... I don't know what to do... I'm hyperventilating as I hear rumbling miles away and start to smell smoke... The robes got in.

How the hell did the robes get in?

BREAK

NES:                                      

I burst through the door and my mom and dad are nowhere to be found. Neither is my brother Miguel, or my nephew Teo. I check my coder, and I see only one message from Miguel.

MIGUEL:                               

Follow the river.

NES:                                      

The Rio Chato. It clicks immediately. When I was little my dad used to take us fishing in this little fork of the Rio Chato. He must want me to meet them there, a secret place where we could regroup and figure out what the hell happened.

I grab the only thing that really matters to me on any sentimental level, my guitar, the one the Lithu gave me... I think his name was Souichi. It's nothing special. ¾ size, a bit too small and not very loud... But it's beautiful to me, all scratched up and covered with marks, notches, doodles. I've had it since I was little, and even though I'm no bard, I can still strum a few chords. I don't know, it's a part of who I am. I throw on this old mariachi jacket, grab some tortillas, and the rumble of another explosion sends me running back through these streets.

BREAK

NES:                                      

My haven is a war zone, the air filled with the powder of homes that once were. It smells sickly familiar. I see flashes of red robes chasing families as I duck behind corners. That rhythmic tat tat tat followed by another explosion. It's the syncopation your ears never want to hear. I'm scared. Shitless. And I feel like a cockroach, skittering from darkness to darkness, running away from sound and warmth as I never have before. Running away from my home, my city, my haven... It feels like my corazon is staked to my mom's kitchen, and every step I take towards the shield rips it just a little further out of me.

And then just as I think the ruida couldn't get any louder, it all sucks away as I see something that tears my heart clean out. From the corner of my eye I see a hand poking out from the rubble, a slightly clenched but familiar hand, with an index finger that reads, "Mamá".

I open my mouth to scream, and contrary to what you've read before, everything comes out.

SCENE 4 THE RIO CHATO.

NES:                                      

I will spare you the embarrassment of listening to how I mourned. Maybe I was on my knees. Maybe it was a bit cliche. Maybe I cried a lot. I have some problems. Talking about my feelings is one of them. But bet that it was fucking heart-wrenching.

I'll spare you the images of my neighbors bodies, each one so eerily quiet and familiar, yet increasingly mortifying.

I'll spare you my anxiety spiral as the screams of children being torn away from their families, children no older than my nephew... fuck.

I'll spare you the morbid, confused grief of seeing the fallen Lithu that lined the border of the shield, their shimmering cracked horns scattered amongst their crumpled, starving bodies, covered in rags.

I'll spare you the image of me stumbling, exhausted, after running along the river for 5 hours, slashing through forests and picking berries to eat when I wasn't throwing up every 10 minutes. Collapsing, falling into the soft cradle of clay next to the Rio, my eyes fixed on my city as it burned, my head a high tide away from eternal sleep.

Instead, let's start at the part where hope begins. Let's start where the cold water meets my warm cheek, where the rio splits around a piñon tree. Where the river meets the earth that gives that piñon life. Where that piñon reaches up into the violet sky. Where the arcane becomes mundane...

MUSIC CUE - AYE MIS HIJOS

Let's start where I wake up and look at my guitar. Where I see the strings vibrating all by themselves. And as the ringing fades from my ears I listen before I pass out from shock and exhaustion. I pass out as I watch the strings vibrate with the voice of my Tio saying

TIO VALO:                           

Wake up hito! It's time. Nos vamos... We need to find Ultima.