Metropolis

Metropolis

FREDER FREDERSEN stands in the middle of his studio pulling elements of digital music out of the air. A low throbbing cacophony slowly takes shape into a musical score as he plucks design elements out of the virtual space around him. That space, represented by the blackness of empty space at first, slowly fills with stars, then galaxies, then planets and finally a sun. As the music progresses the sun becomes ringed by statues of gold. Each statue represents one of the signs of the zodiac.

With a wave of his hand he orders them to circle the sun and they begin to float like satellites around its circumference. Slowly the planets revolve around the sun and Freder pulls Earth closer. From its surface a bright pinpoint burst of color erupts and turns into a phoenix flying towards the sun where its destiny is to burst into ash, but a shift in the colors changes Freder’s movements, almost beyond his control, from his subconscious.

He shifts the view and the sun dulls a bit, and turns into fibers, and from fibers hair... golden hair framing a space. The space morphs with each movement of Freder’s hands into a portrait. It is a shining portrait of a young woman; MARIA.

Realizing who’s face he has created, Freder stops the simulation abruptly. The sudden silence is jarring. The room suddenly becomes a room, not too much unlike any other room, except perhaps more sparse. Windows line one wall looking out, high over the metropolis. The other walls have no decoration except for the four servants who stand silently, one to his left, one to his right and two behind, eyes lowered, waiting for any indication of need or desire.

Their white silk robes nearly blend with the walls at their backs. Each, that is, except one. SLIM stands behind him, nearest the door. Slim’s eyes aren’t lowered, but they don’t stare. Instead they see... everything. His clothes are an austere black suit. His name, fitting his form, also understates his presence. If death had a human face his name would be Slim.

Freder turns to Slim. Freder knows that this, his all powerful protector, is also his keeper.

The servants all file out silently, Slim last. The door closes behind them. Freder walks over to the door and pushes on it gently to make sure it’s closed.

He returns to the center of the room and makes a motion. A virtual menu springs to life. Freder scrolls a bit, finds an icon and taps in. He scrolls through a selection of images, screen captures from different cctv feeds around the city. He stops on the Club of the Sons, scrolls the time back several hours, earlier that same day. He sweeps his hand and the video turns into a multi-camera 3d projection of the Eternal Gardens. Like a giant Feeder looks down on the scene as it begins to play.

Scattered around men, the sons of the wealthy, are being entertained by female servants. Drinks are served, games played. Freder sees himself standing by a fountain. A servant approaches with a tray of drinks and offers it to him. Freder’s friend JAN approaches and grabs the serving girl by the waist, whisking her away.

Freder is about to complain when the large double entry doors open and, through that opening, pours a procession of children led by Maria.

Maria holds in each hand the hands of two of the small children who trail slightly behind.

They stand gaping in awe of the garden in the room. Everyone there stops what they are doing and stares back at the children.

She stands proud, still and calm. The shock wears off the partiers and a murmur begins as the door-keepers (guards) approach slowly, unsure of how to respond to the intrusion. One of the children breaks from the crowd and goes closer to the fountain where Freder is standing, amazed and entranced by the feature. In the real, Freder kneels down so that he can observe more closely the interaction he knows will happen, desperate to remember in detail.

Maria comes forward and takes the child by the hand. She gives Freder a soft, kind, almost loving smile, then leans forward to the child.

Maria leads the child by the hand back towards the group. The child turns slightly and waves at Freder with her free hand, casting a smaller version of the same soft smile at him. Maria leads the children back out of the room as the door-keepers urge them out. Soon the doors shut behind them and silence falls. The servants appear shaken and the men look around in confusion.

Freder rewinds the simulation to just before Maria speaks and replays the words again. He does it one more time. Finally he dismisses the display and walks towards the wall of windows. As he approaches the windows swing open to allow him access to...

the balcony ringing the entire penthouse. He walks over to the rail and leans on it. A sound comes from below. A low, metallic thrum. The low thrumming gong of the shift change peals, heard in every quarter of the city. Freder looks out across the city, across the cathedral, beyond the House of Sons, to the only building in the city taller than his own: the Tower.

The sunlight has faded to twilight and a bright flash of light and color catches Freder’s eye. The word “Yoshiwara '' flashes on and off in the sky, an apparition of laser and smoke advertising the excitement, the enticement of pleasure.

Freder turns abruptly and strides back through the windows, which sweep closed silently behind him.

Freder’s car lands on the helipad of the great tower he’d observed from his balcony. The driver’s door of the car opens and Slim steps out. He opens the rear and Freder steps out onto the pad. Slim follows Freder to...

No head raises on Freder’s entry, not even his father. Around the room sit controllers, each at their own terminal. JON FREDERSEN stands in the middle of the room, looking at a hand-held terminal that shows him a composite of all the other terminals. On one screen is New York, another shows Tokyo. One more is Dubai. In front of Jon stands JOSAPHAT, Jon Fredersen’s First Secretary.

Josaphat’s shoulders drop, dejected and suddenly very, very nervous. He backs away and hustles past Freder. As he passes he nods courteously, in deference to the master’s son. Freder approaches his father’s back in time to catch the end of a conversation his father is having over the comm device poking out of his ear.

Freder noticed his father’s terminal, the shift clock displayed prominently, permanently, at the top right of the screen counting down the minutes to the next shift change. Jon smiles a bit.

Jon touches his ear, listening to a sudden burst of words. He looks around then motions towards the First Secretary. Josaphat approaches quickly to stand before his master.

The young man stood motionless. Three, four, five, six seconds ticked off of the giant wall clock that dominates the room. Two empty eyes burnt in the chalky face of the young man, impressing their brand of fear upon Freder’s vision. One of Jon Fredersen’s hands made a leisurely wave of dismissal.

Josaphat turns and walks slowly to exit.

Freder looks at his father, aghast. Jon sighs and offers Freder a slight grin.

Freder falls silent and Jon turns toward his son for the first time, really looking at him.

Freder pauses for a moment, considering his answer.

Freder stands for a moment, incredulous. Again. Without a word he leaves, this time not through the helipad, but through the main entry, towards the tower.

Winding the entire height of the tower is an escalator carrying the workforce from floor to floor via a continuous double helix. On that helix, headed for his exit, stands Josaphat, the former first secretary. From further up Freder sees him standing, dejected, taking his time towards his demise. Freder moves more quickly down the escalator to catch up to him.

They sink further down for a moment while Josaphat stares at his shoes.

They reach the end of the escalator and Josaphat nearly falls down with both shock and relief. Freder grabs him by the arm, supporting him, pulling him towards the main entrance of the tower.

Jon motions to Slim. Slim approaches and stands before his master.

Slim bows, turns and follows Freder’s path. Jon is interrupted by his SIXTH SECRETARY.

GROT is standing to the side of the main entrance. He is sheepish, eyes cast down. He alone is wearing a blue workman’s jumpsuit, work boots. In his hands he is wringing a black cap.

The sixth secretary motions to Grot, who then shuffles over quickly.

Grot looks around the room, then pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. He hands it to Jon, who opens it. It is small, and stained and on it is what appears to be a plan, or schematic, or map. It is crudely drawn and obviously well worn. Across the top of the map is a single crudely printed word; Freedom. Jon is mystified.

Grot tucks a short bow, turns and leaves. Jon looks at the paper once more, then secrets it away.

Freder holds up Josaphat as they walk towards the thoroughfare.

Slim enters the penthouse from the elevator. Servants are waiting in the entrance. He approaches the HEAD SERVANT, a slightly older man.

Freder stands near the base of the Tower at a door. It is the maintenance entrance. The entrance that leads down into the warrens, the bowels of the building where the machine world connects to the city. He hesitates for a long moment, his hand on the handle. He knows that his DNA will open any door in the city. He is the master’s son. But, he also knows what opening the door will mean.

He pushes the door open and a blast of steam escapes from the underworld. He reels back a bit from the smell and the heat. After a moment of acclimation Freder starts descending into...

Down deep under the city, Freder follows the tunnels lined with pipes and cables. Down, down under the city until he reaches another door. Through the door is the machine city, beneath the open city.

Men and women in blue linen jumpsuits, work boots and black caps walk by in lanes, like highways - orderly, precise. Here and there one or another peel off to enter some doorway, or turn to some other byway. Their movements seem scripted and precise.

Massive columns stretch from floor to floor supporting the city above. Just ahead, a large square steel and concrete structure stretches from the floor to the ceiling. The ceiling is at the center of the first floor of the Tower above. From the height of the structure Jon judges it to be at least four stories tall. At the base of the structure is an open door, and through that door lights flicker on and off.

Freder walks towards the structure, interrupting the flow of several workers. As he nears the structure he begins to see that the flicker of the lights is caused by the continued motions of a man. Even closer and he can see that the man is not just gesturing at virtual switches, but also pulling and prodding at real mechanics.

Freder is drawn into...

Inside the control worker 11811 GEORGI is keeping control over the entire escalator system. Each minor fluid adjustment, auto-lubrication and speed change is constantly being adjusted. Eyes rarely blinking, limbs constantly moving, the man feverishly works to keep it all under control.

The man pays no attention. Freder notices that there is a strange device attached to the man’s forehead, a device connected by a cable somewhere far above. He seems to be speaking gibberish.

Freder sees a control in the center of the display field “Engage. Freder touches the virtual control, disconnecting Georgi from the machine. The strange appliance on his forehead retracts leaving a red mark on his forehead. Freder reaches out and touches the man. Georgi recoils as if shocked, nearly falling. Freder reaches out and catches him. Freder looks around but no one has noticed. Everyone outside of the room cannot break ranks, none of them lift their gaze.

It takes a moment for Georgi to focus his eyes on something other than the display, to see full shapes instead of pinpoints of light.

Georgi reaches up towards the machine to continue his work.

Freder stands up and starts taking off his clothes.

He starts getting undressed, swapping clothes with Freder.

Freder blinks, not sure of what he just heard. Then it dawns on him. They don’t use money in the machine city. The state provides everything. Freder looks to his wrist. He takes off his watch and puts it around Georgi’s wrist.

Georgi, unsure of what to do, throws himself at Freder, hugging him, then he leaves. Freder stands in the center of the room, controls blazing in the air around him. Here and here a point is shaded yellow, or red. It’s a familiar interface. After all, his father built these machines, and he has built a few of his own. Freder “presses” the control to engage the machine.

From the ceiling the head harness comes down and attaches itself to his forehead. Immediately it connects the entire machine to Freder through neural feedback. Freder is shocked. He thought he knew what to expect, but to realize that he has just become part of the machine frightens him. For a moment he thinks of disengaging but the imperative of the machine makes him begin adjusting settings, tweaking inputs.

Georgi bursts through the exterior door. Free of the warrens, he stops suddenly, drinking in the cool evening air, clean air. He looks around. There are a few people on the street, in the air above a hover car here and there crisscrossing the sky.

Georgi realizes he has been standing, conspicuously staring at the skyline.

Taking a deep breath he walks towards the thoroughfare, unsure of what to do next. As he approaches the street he begins to notice that there are cars at this level speeding by, hovering close to the ground. Georgi is mumbling to himself

Cars rush by intermittently. Georgi has no idea how to catch one. He holds up the arm with the wristwatch. A car glides over to a stop right in front of him. A little surprised, Georgi approaches the car. The door slides open quietly, inviting him in...

Georgi reclines in the plush couch of the taxi. The door closes and the car sits, idling, waiting. Georgi realizes that the car is waiting for something, but he’s not sure what. Then realization dawns on him and he remembers Freder’s instructions.

The car speeds away. Georgi stares out of the window at the city as it does. Everything is clean, shiny, well lit. Here and there people dot the byways. They too are clean, shiny. Somewhere, ahead, the sky is lit with a rainbow of colors that casts hues across the buildings. Georgi cannot yet see the source of the light, but its effects are everywhere.

Soon the car comes to a halt and the door opens.

Georgi steps out, once again breathing the same clean, crisp air. The car speeds away and once again Georgi holds out his wrist. Another car speeds up and halts. Georgi gets in.

The car may as well have been the previous car. Georgi waits for the door to close and once again demands three blocks. The car takes off. At a cross street the car stops and from the window Georgi sees the source of the color, a bright sign in the sky showing one word: Yoshiwara.

Georgi, entranced by the size, the color and the novelty of the sign speaks its name.

The car responds by turning towards the sign and speeding on. Georgi leans forward and for just a moment considers countermanding his instruction... then he leans back and smiles. One small detour couldn’t hurt.

There is a house in Metropolis older than the town. Many believe it is older than the cathedral. One of the few remaining structures of the once great city that was Paris, the city upon whose bones Metropolis arose, surrounded by new, the old of this house sets it apart not only in style, but in color. Its stone facade has taken on a dull, dark gray-green from soot, age, and lichen. Its master will not suffer anyone to touch it, and no one, save one, will touch its master. The house resisted its destruction with so great a force that word of its malignity went out beyond the borders of the city.

Set into the black wood of the double entry doors stood, copper-red, mysterious, the seal of Solomon; the pentagram.

This is the house of ROTWANG.

Before these doors stands the one man who could challenge its owner; Jon Fredersen.Jon knocks on the door and waits a moment. The door speaks to him.

Jon puts his hands on his hips and looks at the camera that he knows sits at the top right of the doors and which can see every part of the entry.

The door opens. Jon steps inside...

Inside the house it is dim, light barely streaming through unwashed windows, dust in the air further defusing the light. Jon doesn’t need the light. He knows the house.

In front of him footsteps light a path, across the entry, up the stairs. Though the footpads direct him, Jon knows the way. He crosses the floor, climbs the stairs and approaches another large set of double doors. This one also bears the mark of Solomon, copper red, gleaming in the half-light. These doors, too, part for Jon Fredersen.

Jon stays standing by the door for a while, letting his eyes get used to the dimness. Directly across from him stands a pedestal, and on that pedestal is the bust of a woman. Jon walks quietly, carefully towards the statue. He reaches out and reverently caresses it’s cheek.

A voice speaks from the air around him.

Jon retreats from the statue and approaches a table set to the side of the room. On it are strewn papers, schematics, blueprints, all of them mechanical parts, all well aged. Odd that these should even exist, let alone populate the studio of one of the greatest programmer/electronics engineers the world has ever known. The curiosity of it causes Jon to sift through the relics. Among the papers is a small piece, no larger than a man’s hand covered over with the tracing of a strange symbol that on closer inspection resembles a plan, or a map.

Jon is surprised, shocked and then, suddenly, a shiver runs up his spine as he sees a dismembered hand, long, slender, and very feminine. After a moment he picks up the hand and realizes the skin is translucent plastic. The bones of the hand are metal, bloodless, wireless. Another hand, much like the one he holds, reaches past his shoulder, grasps the hand and swiftly, gently pulls from his grasp.

Jon hadn’t heard its footsteps approaching. He hadn’t felt it breathing. But he could feel its warmth now. Involuntarily he held his breath as he turned.

It was a woman. Though the face had no features and the scalp no hair, its form was unmistakable. Dully glowing eyeballs glared at him from behind what should be eyelids. FUTURA held the hand pressed against its breasts, motionless.

Jon notices that the jaw moves, but there is no opening where a mouth should be.

Rotwang appears from the shadow of one corner of the room. He walks slowly forward, a nearly maniacal grin on his face. Jon moves closer to the thing to inspect it closely.

Jon is both repulsed and attracted by the thought. Discipline.

Rotwang bursts into laughter. The laughter stops when Jon pulls the piece of paper from his pocket and holds it out to Rotwang. Rotwang takes the paper and casts a quick glance at it. Unphased, he drops the paper on the desk nearby, then turns to Jon.

Jon thinks about his answer for a moment. Then he thinks about whether to answer for a moment.

Jon measures Rotwang’s face for a moment. He seems honest.

Rotwang approaches him, holding out the small piece of paper. Jon takes it from him. Rotwang moves closer and points to a portion on the left of the map.

Rotwang leads Jon out of the studio through a large set of opaque glass doors on the far side of the room...

To the balcony overlooking the grand entry. Rotwang points to the parquet floor below.

Rotwang pointed to the opposite side of the map, a place where a series of crosses were marked.

Jon looks at him but doesn’t reply. Instead he pockets the paper, turns and starts back into the room. Futura is there, standing in the entry back into the study. He hadn’t heard the movement and stops short, surprised, and unsettled.

Futura steps aside and gestures with the hand still attached while still clasping the detached hand against her breast, cradled there by her forearm.

He strides through to the door, his steps becoming more determined, almost angry. The impertinence of this man.

Futura executes a slight bow, and trails after Jon to show him to the front door.

The morning brings the end of the shift. Self-aware, the machine automatically pauses operation to allow for the exchange of workmen. As the new WORKMAN enters the post the headpiece is disconnected. Freder nearly stumbles from the sudden disconnect. Then he nearly faints from fatigue, a type of fatigue he has never known.

It wasn’t until that very moment that he realized the strain on one’s body of constant attention to one task for such an extended time could wreak on one’s person. Freder stumbles out of the station totally unaware of where he should go, what he should do.

Ahead he sees a human train headed towards the heart of the machine city. Doing his best to keep his attitude the same as the rest of the workers, he silently blends into the train and follows them.

The train walks an angular route through the underground city towards a large central building. The walls of the building stretch from the floor of this city to the floor of the city above. Large open doors at the base of the building act as portals through which troops of people flow in regular, controlled movements. There are no windows, no ornamentation, and no dirt or trash.

Eventually Freder follows the human train into that central building

The shift change brings meal time. The train entering the complex immediately is funneled into lines which pass by cafeteria style food stations where more workmen in blue uniforms scoop out spoonfuls of tan and gray food. Each person receives the exact same portion of the exact same meal. Each person files mechanistically onto tables with bench seats. No one selects their seat, they merely fill in the next seat available.

A hushed conversation between the occupants causes a low hum, not online the hum of the machines at work in the underground city.

Freder wearily eats, clearly not enjoying the slop, but too hungry to stop. He slows and pauses as he begins to notice that everyone around him is not eating, but looking at him. At first he’s worried that he has been discovered. WORKMAN 2 finally speaks.

Workman 2 turns and points to a small door at one end of the large dining hall.

The workmen around him continue eating, each putting their heads down, no longer interested.

Freder stands in the doorway to a large dormitory filled with row upon row of bunks three high. Freder cradles a bundle of a new uniform, a towel, a small bag of personal supplies and a paper with a map on it directing him to his bunk.

Fatigued more than he has ever been, Freder stares blankly at the open bay. Workers mill about, some lay on their bunks. This seems to be the most unregulated portion of the workforce’s day.

He approaches his bunk and puts down his things. Just as he is about to lay down he overhears WORKMAN 3 talking to another in low, hurried tones.

Both workers shuffle off towards the exit. Freder looks around noticing that a large number of other workmen are also headed in the same direction.

Freder stands and follows.

As Freder follows more and more workmen join the procession. Their number is thousands.

They funnel into a stairwell down...

Then a tunnel filled with pipes and cables. The sound of the underground rail rumbles somewhere nearby.

They enter a rough tunnel, more ancient and made of stone.

Deeper still and alcoves begin to appear, alcoves filled with skulls and bones. Lighting seems to appear from the hands of the workers, a flashlight here, a lamp there.

Further still and the path seems to ascend a bit.

Suddenly the space opens up into...

The large space is lined with steps. The floor of the space is broad and flat, with lanes of lower steps leading down to it. Near one end sits a long dark tunnel. Around the ring are small boxes, through some of which more people pour in.

Freder stops for a moment to take it in, but bodies pouring in from the narrow hall behind him push him forward, down towards the floor of the arena. The whole space is oddly silent except for the shuffle of feet and a low murmur.

In the confusion Freder hardly notices that a person has entered the opposite end via the tunnel. A group of workmen move some boxes into place in front of the tunnel to form a rudimentary stage. Onto the stage steps Maria. The crowd becomes utterly silent.

In unison the whole CROWD responds.

One day he looked to the firmament and said to his people ‘Great is the world and great is man. Come, let us build a tower so that we may make a name for ourselves.’

And so they set to making bricks and they built for themselves a tower to reach the heavens. And, when it was built, they cried out with one voice ‘Babel, mighty, great is man and great is its creator.’ This is the folly of the Tower of Babel.

The crowd, in unison with a hushed tone spoke as one again.

A cry comes from the back of the crowd “When will Babel fall Maria? When will it be brought low!” A murmur arises. Maria holds up her hands, quieting the crowd again.

Again from the crowd one cries out “We must destroy them all!”

Maria smiles, a gentle smile, a peaceful smile. She folds her hands above her breast as if in prayer.

Again from the crowd another voice cries out “And what if we have to fight? What if there is no mediator?”

Freder looks around himself and sees the determination, the solid resolution on each and every face in attendance. Then something even more strange...

Every head bows, every eye closes, except Freder’s. Maria, leading the crowd, in unison they begin to recite. As they do, Freder begins to swim through the crowd towards the front.

The crowd begins to silently funnel out through the tunnels. Jon is forced by the weight of the crowd to flow out of the room with them. Just past the entry the others are exiting through, Jon moves to stand against the wall, watching as everyone files past. Maria still stands on the stage, flanked by two large workmen.

In the back, in one of the alcoves above the floor of the ancient arena, three figures are standing. Two humans, and one other. Jon and Rotwang are dressed like workers, but there are no workmen on this level. Futura stands slightly behind, mostly obscured in shadow.

Jon thinks for a moment, then smiles, just a little. The three of them turn and leave the balcony.

Everyone else has filtered out, except for Maria and two workmen flanking her on the makeshift stage. Jon moves away from the wall and approaches the stage.

Maria smiles, just a little.

Maria dismounts the podium to approach Freder. She holds out her hands. Freder takes her hands in his. She steps very close to him and kisses him on the cheek. She places her palm over his heart.

Maria abruptly turns and walks away before he can respond. As the shadows of the tunnel swallow her he can hear her voice echoing back to him.

Freder turns and starts walking out the way he came.

Maria is walking with her two escorts. She knows the way by heart. The tunnel walls, what was once the Paris Metro, stretch ahead. The rails haven’t seen a train in hundreds of years. ESCORT 1 hears a small sound behind them, turns to look, but keeps moving. After a moment ESCORT 1 and ESCORT 2 both turn. The sound is more definite. Maria takes a couple steps, then stops herself.

The two escorts move slowly toward what they think is the direction of the sound’s source.

The sound of a soft laugh, a woman’s laugh, echoes off of the walls.

In that moment Escort 2 is brutally tackled by Futura who then disappears into the shadows.

Before she turns to run Maria sees Futura approaching out of the shadows, her limbs are bent into a more animal shape, her eyes glowing behind the translucent skin.

Maria runs down the tunnel, not in a panic, but certainly in a hurry. She takes a stair up to a platform, then across the platform to the exit to the level above. Before she can reach the top of the stairs Futura has caught up to her.

Maria stops on the stairs, realizing that she cannot outrun this thing. Instead she faces it, standing still. Futura unfolds herself and stands like a human. She walks slowly forward. Another voice echoes through the space from behind.

Futura bows. It should seem courteous, but instead it seems a menace. Maria looks past the machine to look at her true assailant. Rotwang approaches. He is still wearing the blue uniform, but has no desire for the hat. On his face he wears a peaceful, calm, pleasant expression. He has no malice, no anger, just calm assurance.

SEPTEMBER is the proprietor of Yoshiwara. As such, he does not greet guests at the door. That is, he does not unless that guest happens to be Slim. September stands just inside the doors that lead out to the grand entry of his establishment. He is looking at a projection of the image just past the doors, out onto the large drive and ornate gardens that stand before the building where he stands. Slim is standing outside the entrance to his establishment flanked by two of September’s servants.

September shakes his head, then tries again.

September remembers who he has left waiting outside so carelessly. He takes two steps back and clears his throat. With a wave of his hand, the doors open towards him.

September wheels about to lead Slim into...

The entry hall is garishly decorated and dimly lit. Hallways branch off in many directions, each leading to a different sort of pleasure. September leads Slim down one of the halls.

September glances at Slim. If Slim has an expression, it is impatience. In the hall two women, scantily clad, sit on the floor. One is curled in a ball. The other attempts to comfort her.

At the end of the hall September waits for his servants to open the door for him. He steps through...

...and puts his hand over his nose, as though somehow his sensibilities could be offended.

Refuse and dashed pottery lay strewn around the room. Young girls in various states of dress have shrunk against the walls. One lies motionless, unconscious. One young girl is being attended to by the house paramedic, her arm broken. Another holds her bandaged hands out in front of her, blood soaking the dressings. A few patrons lay strewn about. One of them has some blood beginning to soak his shirt from some unknown wound.

Standing in the middle of the room is 11811, Georgi, lost in some slow music only heard by himself. His eyes glazed over as though lost in some other dimension, he slowly alternates his gaze between floor and ceiling.

Slim raises his eyebrow.

Slim gives September a withering look. The proprietor shuffles off on some pretense. Slim approaches the man.

Georgi stops moving and straightens up as much as he is able, eyes downcast. Once again he is the worker of the underworld.

Slim turns and begins walking out...

Through the hall, out to the reception hall, through the entrance...

Ambulances began to arrive, but Slim’s car is waiting. Before the first gurney can come from the first ambulance, Slim and Georgi disappear into his car, and the car lifts vertically into the air and speeds away.

The car speeds through the air. Georgi sits, huddled against the door. Slim sits casually checking his portable terminal. On the screen is everything there is to know about worker 11811.

Georgi tries to become one with the door. A long, awkward pause follows. He looks out of the window, trying to avoid what’s coming next. The car has has begun reaching towards the tops of the buildings, soon to be nearing the clouds.

Slim did not question him further. He knew what that meant. Slim drew a breath, a long sigh. He said, more deploring than inquiring...

Slim pushes a button on the terminal and Georgi’s door opens. It comes as such a shock that Georgi doesn’t have time to react. He simply falls.

Slim pushes the button again and the door closes. Slim straightens up his tie.

Freder looks at him, a bit confused, a bit distressed.

Freder stands in the middle of the room, a bit dejected.

Freder rubs his wrist where is identity should have been.

Freder notices the look on Josaphat’s face.

Josaphat leads Freder from the living room to

...the bathroom. Josaphat’s apartment is fitting for a first secretary. Freder gets a shower. Josaphat brings a new set of clothes into the room and sets them down on the commode.

Josaphat exits the bathroom.

Freder enters the living room wearing the borrowed clothes. Josaphat is sitting on the couch, sipping a cup of tea.

Josaphat is busy pouring hot water into a cup for tea. A quiet knock sounds on his door: three, quiet, sharp raps. Josaphat finishes pouring his tea, oblivious. The knock comes again. The exact same tone. No more insistent. No less precise.

Josaphat walks to the door and opens it. He steps back, startled by his visitor.

Slim glides into the room past Josaphat. He has no need of an invitation. He has no need of a greeting. Slim immediately spies a black cap with the numbers 11811 printed on the side laying on the coffee table. Josaphat followed Slim’s gaze and his shoulders slumped.

Slim sits down on the couch. Josaphat goes to the cabinet and gets another cup and another teabag, then pours the cup. He goes to the settee, places the cup in front of Slim and sits down.

Slim takes a sip and smiles... smiles at Josaphat.

Slim puts his cup down and shifts the hat on the table in front of Josaphat.

Slim takes another sip. He actually seems to be enjoying his tea.

Josaphat sinks back into his seat. His throat is suddenly very dry.

Josaphat’s hands tighten on the arm of the chair.

Slim pulls a small pad from his inside pocket.

Slim puts the checkbook on the table. The top check is blank, with Jon Fredersen’s signature already written on it.

Josaphat suddenly leaps up, intent on making it to the front door, and just as suddenly he finds himself laying, face first, on the floor with Slim standing above him. Slim picks him up by the shirt, places him back in his chair, then returns to his own seat.

Slim fills out the check for 16 million, tears it from the book and holds it out to Josaphat.

Josaphat hesitates.

Josaphat takes the check, stands up and walks out the door.

Freder walks up the steps of the cathedral for the first time in his life. Hel, his mother, used to go to the cathedral every week. His father had no use of the monks in their robes, their flowery speech and services so full of ceremony. His father had no use, so he had no use. One thing he knew for a certainty; just as his father was no friend of the church, the church was no friend to his father. One other thing he knew was that the words he had heard in the world below were also spoken here.

There are no shadows inside the cathedral, but neither is there any bright light. Every crevice and nook is light with a yellow hue designed to emulate candles. At the front of the sanctuary stands a table filled with what ought to be candles, but which are rather eternal candles, led lights designed to emulate candlelight. The quiet sound of monks chanting is piped into the room to add to the ambiance.

Here and there a person occupies a pew; here praying, there staring at the roof. Freder approaches the altar at the front and a dark robed figure, DESERTUS, appears out of the wing. He stands, his hard angular face, his cold dark eyes, boring into Freder.

Desertus walks towards Freder, a little softer, a little more open.

Desertus turns and begins walking back to chambers. As he leaves his voice echoes off the walls.

Dejected, Freder leaves the cathedral. He cannot go home. He cannot go to the church, and he cannot go below. From the top of the steps he can see the top of the ancient house of Rotwang. Its darkened stones contrast heavily against the rest of the city. Freder starts walking.

The plane that carried Josaphat away from Metropolis soars through the air rushing away from the sunset.

Josaphat sits in the cabin, opposite SHERI. She stares out of the window, more curious of the flight than the company. The moment the plane left Metropolis behind he began to become nervous. Now, many miles further on, he is a wreck. Josaphat swirls brandy in a glass.

Sheri just looks at him, then turns back to the window. Josaphat slams the drink down.

Sheri does not respond. He really wasn’t talking to her anyway. He stands and goes to...

The COPILOT turns as he enters, curious. The PILOT takes no notice.

Josaphat leaves the cockpit...

He looks around the cockpit briefly. Sheri now notices him. In the back of the cabin, near the restroom, he finds a fire extinguisher. He grabs the extinguisher and goes back to the cockpit.

He holds up the fire extinguisher.

Without warning Josaphat smashes the man in the face with the butt of the extinguisher. The copilot goes limp. The pilot recoils, suddenly very attentive.

The pilot grabs the yolk and begins banking and diving the plane, turning around. Freder leaves the cockpit again.

Sheri seems confused and a bit concerned. She didn’t see the events of the cockpit, but she knows something is different.

Maria stands next to a window looking out over Metropolis. She is trying to catch a glimpse of anything that might be familiar, but she knows very little of the world above.

The door behind her opens and Rotwang enters the room. He carries a tray with tea and cakes. As the room is bare, he sets the tray on the floor in the middle of the room, then takes two steps back.

Maria turns to look, floor first, then Rotwang. Rotwang smiles at her, then squats down, sips the tea and takes one of the cakes to eat. He stands again, two steps back.

Rotwang shuffles a bit.

Maria hesitates for a moment, but she hasn’t eaten for nearly a full day. She sits on the floor and begins sipping the tea.

Maria’s face falls, ever so slightly, into sadness.

Rotwang pauses and smiles.

Rotwang exits the room, the sound of a heavy bolt shutting as the door closes.

Outside Rotwang goes two doors down to his studio. He enters the room and walks to the statue against the wall. He reaches out, but does not touch. He turns and goes to the side of the room where another door stands in the wall. He opens the door and into...

Futura lies on a table, attached by cables to a computer. Her skin is no longer translucent, but opaque, the color of skin. Rotwang approaches her. Her face is moving, shifting into shape. She already has hair — Maria’s hair — and soon, as her face settles, her face as well.

She turns to look at Rotwang. She gives him the same small smile Maria had given him in the room.

Freder walks down an avenue. He is not in a hurry, but he is walking towards a purpose. Seek wisdom the priest had said. Seek the Wizard. The knowledge that Rotwang is his father’s long time partner in the creation of the machines give him hesitation. The taste of doubt put there by the priest carries him forward.

As he approaches Rotwang’s house he looks at the dingy rock, covered in vines and lichen. Then, in one window on the top floor he sees a woman. She isn’t looking at him. He is sure it’s Maria.

Freder rushes to the door with the pentagram on it. Before he can knock, it opens. The shock of it gives him pause. Freder enters...

The inside is dim and dusty. Freder starts to move forward, but he’s never been in this place. No lights show him the way. Freder crosses the main room to the stairs and begins climbing. On the second floor the double doors to the studio are open. He goes through and immediately notices the bust of the woman on the pedestal.

Freder crosses to the statue. One word is chiseled into the base: Hel. Freder is amazed and confused. Why is a statue of his mother in this place?

Rotwang’s voice makes Freder jump. Somehow the old man as appeared from the shadows.

Rotwang motions in thin air and an image appears in 3d projection. It is HEL, laughing, playing in life size relief. Hel too has golden hair, nearly the same length as Maria. After just a moment of Hel alone, another enters the frame; a YOUNG ROTWANG. They embrace and she kisses him. The loop ends and begins again.

Freder backs up a bit, circling, incredulous.

The closeness of the two conversations, first with Desertus, then with Rotwang. Could Rotwang know about Desertus?

Freder nods his head.

Freder starts to walk out of the room. He doesn’t grasp the significance of Rotwang’s words, but as he walks, more and more of it begins to sink through. As it begins to dawn on him even more he nearly stumbles down the stairs.

Rotwang watches Freder leave. He goes to the room where he holds Maria. She sits on a chair in one corner with a book in her hands.

She puts down the book.

Futura, wearing Maria’s face, clothed in the white silks of the upper class, is alone with Jon in the control center. Jon is admiring Rotwang’s handiwork when Slim walks in.

Slim, in his usual, sedate manner, moves forward to observe. Futura turns to him, no concept of shame or fear.

Slim pauses before answering. He knows what his revelation could mean to himself.

The three of them turn to see Freder walk into the room. Only Slim seems slightly surprised.

Freder instinctually believes something is not right.

Jon immediately picks up on the situation.

Slim steps back a few paces towards the shadows.

Jon interrupts, sensing a problem in his web of lies.

Futura goes close to Jon and gives him a small kiss. She looks over her shoulder at Freder, gives him Maria’s smile, then walks out.

Slim approaches, Freder turns to leave. As Slim nears Jon, Jon stops him with a gesture and whispers to him.

Slim nods his ascent and walks with Freder out of the room. Jon’s face turns to a mask of stone. He has other business he must now attend.

Josaphat feels, and looks, out of place. He is wearing clothes intended for anywhere but Metropolis. He knows almost nothing about the society below the streets. But, he is armed with a huge amount of money and a mission: find Freder. There is one person in the machine city that Josaphat does know. Grot.

Josaphat makes his way through the people trains, the machines and facilities to...

Machine city control is a smaller, more busy version of Metropolis main control. All areas of city operations feed into the control center. Managers are bustling about, checking screens and controls, talking about one thing and another. When Josaphat enters the room comes to a standstill. Grot walks over to him.

Freder stands in the middle of his studio. The stark white walls remain undisturbed except for the servants who stand in their customary positions, awaiting any need. Freder begins to raise his hands to start the simulation, and stops. He turns to one of the servants.

The servant looks around, not sure of what to do. The other servants shuffle around nervously.

Freder walks from the studio

The servants shuffle behind him and take up positions around the room. Freder begins to find it annoying. He starts heading for the front door and Slim steps in.

Freder walks out...

Freder goes to the rail and looks out over the city. He spends a moment considering the tower, then something catches his eye. A light is being reflected off a window just below. It spells out 90 - 7 - 7, over and over. It takes him only a moment to grasp the meaning, but he is unsure what to do about it.

Then he notices the light is not coming from outside of the window, but from the inside. There, standing in the window, is Josaphat. Freder waves to him. Josaphat holds up his hand, fingers splayed: five.

Five what? Freder leans over the rail more, raising his hands in a shrug. Josaphat closes his fist, taps his wrist, then holds up his fingers again: five. Five minutes.

Freder goes back to the windows and speaks through them to his servants.

The servants immediately bustle about setting up a table, chair and service set on the balcony. Freder keeps checking his wrist, looking at the time. Slim steps out on the balcony.

Slim is now suspicious, but he does not move forward. Freder goes over to the balcony and looks over. He climbs over the rail and drops. Slim walks quickly to the balcony and looks over. Freder has landed in a car hovering just below the balcony. The roof of the car is open. Freder climbs through the opening, into the passenger seat and the car takes off. Slim smiles a little, just a little.

Jon Fredersen is furious. The servants surround the room, eyes downcast. Slim stands in the middle of the room.

The room is silent. Jon turns to the servants.

Then he turns to Slim.

Rotwang is constructing a plan for a new machine. The parts hang mid-air. Piece by piece he begins to assemble them until he comes across one that he is not happy with. He discards it and plucks another part. Maria is watching him intently as he builds.

... down the stairwell to the great room. In the center of the floor is a peculiar pattern of wood. In one spot is a small circle of a different color. Rotwang presses down on the circle and a hole opens up in the floor with a stairwell leading down.

Grot, Josaphat and Freder are walking away from a large storeroom in the underworld. Parked behind them is the escape car.

Freder and Josaphat file in with many other people. They are the only members of the crowd not wearing the blue. As they enter he can hear her voice, Maria’s voice. Futura stands on the podium, addressing the crowd wearing Maria’s face.

Behind them they can hear Futura still inciting the crowd.

The crowd funnels into the city. People are beginning to flow in from all over the underground. They follow Futura towards...

Grot is in the control center. He can see the crowd approaching. He punches a control, the emergency alert. The machine city goes on automated lockdown, including shutting the blast doors of the control room. Grot relaxes. He knows that no crowd can breach the doors. He starts moving towards the control center elevator, a direct route to the surface. Behind him a beeping sound stops him. He turns to see a flashing light on the main board.

The crowd grows closer to the control center.

Grot messes with a set of controls. Suddenly he sees the words “Executive Override” appear. The lockdown is rescinded and the doors begin to open.

Maria winds her way through the catacombs tunnels. Ahead she sees the tunnel open up to the city itself. She is near one of the main dormitories. She suddenly realizes that she is wading through a flow of water. She looks around and the entire floor is covered with a thin layer of running water.

Confused she goes to the dormitory. For a moment she thinks it’s deserted. Then she hears some noises from one of the side rooms.

Maria leads them out of the dormitory, through the city, to...

...the tunnels where the water is starting to run a little higher, and a little faster.

Maria leads the children to a set of stairs that she knows leads up to Rotwang’s house. She ushers the children up the stairs.

Freder and Josaphat exit one of the access tunnels to the city streets. In the distance they can see fires burning and crowd noise. The other way the street appears to be empty. Freder and Josaphat start to walk down the street. Ahead they can see some lights bisecting the thoroughfare, but they can’t see what the lights mean. They grow a little closer and vehicles start to take shape. From the side a voice calls out.

Maria and the children sit huddled on the stairs. The sounds of rushing water are close. Maria looks down the stairs and sees the water starting to reach towards the ceiling.

Freder peeks into the great room cautiously. Rotwang’s door is never unlocked, but now it is. Freder, Grot and Josaphat enter the great room. It takes a moment for their eyes to become accustomed to the light. When they do, Freder sees Rotwang’s body lying on the floor. He goes to him, but he is dead.

Freder hears her muffled reply but can’t quite locate the source.

The last place Freder has not looked is under Rotwang’s body.

She hears a scraping noise, some shuffling, and then a click. The floor above opens.

The children begin filing out of the hole in the floor one by one. Maria is the last to exit the stairs. She hits the button to close the floor and sees Rotwang’s body. It is moved now as it was covering the button.

Debris litters the usually pristine streets. People run here and there. The larger crowd is somewhere ahead. The path of the rioters has lit the sky with yellow flames and sporadic explosions. Maria and Grot are seeking a way to the cathedral, bypassing the crowd.

Freder and Josaphat enter the control center. The lights are off except for a few terminals here and there flashing statuses and readouts. Josaphat crosses to the bank of controls he knows is the city security services.

As Maria approaches the crowd they are near the steps of the cathedral. Maria motions to Grot.

The crowd holds Maria on the steps of the cathedral. Futura stands next to her. The crowd has built a fire at the foot of the cathedral steps.

Jon Fredersen stands at the window, looking down on the destruction he has caused. In his hands he holds a drink. Slim appears from the shadows. He speaks and Jon’s spine stiffens.

Off in the distance Metropolis is aglow with fire. Now and then a bright point lights up the sky a bit as another explosion shoots into the sky. Freder, Maria and Josaphat stand near an aircraft on a taxi way. The pilot leans out of the door...