The Tragedy of MedomaiMature

"Perhaps they were meant to be together, after all, the tortured souls."
During the 1890s in a small town just off of London, two spy agencies had a rivalry that was just as intense as a feud between families. But one day, a scientist ahead of his time creates something that may put one ahead of the other.

Scene 1 of a screenplay.

This movie/play takes place in Pallas, a (fictional) town just off of London, England, in the 1890s.

The movie starts with a few shots of the somewhat empty streets of Pallas; the beginning credits are hidden up by the windows and ceilings of the low buildings as the camera focuses on the individuals that have already conformed to the somewhat suburban society.

Then the camera focuses on a small home with a horse outside, standing quietly. The scene changes to a parlor-type room, dimly lit with one candle. It has no furniture except two chairs, a small table, and a cot in the middle of the room. There is a figure on top of the cot, covered by a tarp. There are a few pieces of metal scattered around on the floor, along with pieces of motherboards and whatnot.

Cephalus, a spidery man in his early twenties with wild hair and eyes, stands over the cot in a suit that corresponds with the 1890s fashion, giving him a sense of normality.

CEPHALUS, whispering to the figure:
My son, my invention. Now's your chance to impress the one that will give you permission to live.

Kleos runs into the scene, out of breath. Kleos is a man of pride (in his thirties), leading one of the two spy agencies of the area.

KLEOS: So this is the invention you've been obsessing over for so long? What does it do?

CEPHALUS: It is a--a prototype.

KLEOS: Two years working on a prototype? Slaps Cephalus on the back of his head. We don't have that kind of time!

CEPHALUS: This is worth it, I--

KLEOS: What is our goal, Cephalus?

CEPHALUS: To-to create technology for the public.

KLEOS: Why? Do you remember?

CEPHALUS: To pay our rent, earn us all the money we need, and make us known to the public.

KLEOS, pacing behind Cephalus: And what is our enemy's?

CEPHALUS: I-isn't it the same, sir?

KLEOS, shouting now: Yes! That's why we need to hurry, fool! Now what is this you've built?

CEPHALUS, taking a shaky breath: It's a machine...with something that I call "artificial intelligence." This invention can blend into it's surroundings and absorb information we can use for ourselves. Pause. Basically, it's to steal ideas from the others.

KLEOS, nodding: So this one isn't for the public?

CEPHALUS: Not yet, at least. Maybe later, but now it's too dangerous.

KLEOS, scoffing: Dangerous? In what way? It's a prototype!

CEPHALUS: Exactly! He lowers his voice, as though he's afraid someone will hear him. This...thing could develop emotions beyond what we want. It could become self-aware.

KLEOS: And what's wrong with that?

CEPHALUS: It can become vengeful and want to be free. It may kill us all.

KLEOS, chuckling: For some reason, I like it. Do you have a plan for this invention?

CEPHALUS, quickly: In fact, I do. We would program it so it knows it must retrieve as much information on everything as possible. That way, it may even find out new ways to improve itself or on our enemy's ideas, which it will also absorb.

KLEOS: Hmm. Well, I think I've come to a descision.

Cephalus gulps and wrings his hands.

KLEOS: I approve. Just set him free when you're finished.

CEPHALUS: Oh, thank you sir! Thank you!

Kleos waves the words away and exits.

CEPHALUS, removing the tarp and fiddling with the figure for a minute: Rise, my invention. You have been given permission.

A dark figure arises from the cot, standing straight up and taking a deep breath.
It is the figure of a man.

The End

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