Futuresign: An excerpt
We hear the voice of SIBYL over an elaborate montage of antiquarian maps, royal insignia and portraiture:
SIBYL (voice over):
It is an unspecified future, a world which very much resembles fin de siecle Europe at the uncertain borders of the twentieth century…
The balance of power is generated by tensions between the Dark Continent, Africa and the infightings of European states. The Americas are still a legion of colonies and it is here, most especially in North America, these bids for power are unfurled.
In the past decade, an uneasy truce has emerged in the form of one person: a man claiming to be the latest reincarnation —and by this we mean the precise genetic blue print—of Napoleon Bonaparte—resurrected by the forces of Will and Destiny… And a genetics program (some say with the aid of the Occult.)
Whether these claims be true or not, this man emerges from the ranks to lead France to victory—quelling the turmoil in her American colonies. Soon this Napoleon proclaims himself Emperor of the Americas, much to the chagrin of the French Crown—who have no choice but to concede. An alliance is made with the Austro-Hungarian Empire through a marriage with the Hapsburg Princess. Bonaparte has created a stability not seen in these parts for decades.
Now the edgy alliance is threatened with the storm clouds of marital unhappiness: The Hapsburg Princess, charged with treason, has been placed under arrest and taken to an undisclosed location. Her actual crime is her inability to produce an heir—in spite of relentless (and often humiliating) subjection to the Emperor’s genetic program.
While a case is being built to demonstrate her treachery, the Royalist faction in the Americas, as well as the European monarchy are further unsettled when the Emperor marries his beautiful Haitian mistress, Eugenie, in a secret ceremony—and then declares her Empress publicly. This status had been denied the Hapsburg Princess, who was a Royal by birth.
To most, this unholy wedlock can only mean one thing: the dark forces of the African League are at work: plotting alongside Napoleon to undermine the power of the aristocracy and instigate revolt not only in the American Colonies—but the rest of the world. Is France able to contain this upstart self-proclaimed Emperor, or must the European powers drop their differences and unite against the mounting darkness…
Is the world once more on the brink of War?
Mist swirls about, the picture fades slowly into Napoleon’s Palace
1.2 INT. PALACE.DAY
The Corridors of Power are uneasy just yet, as are those who traverse them.
In the vast handsome corridors of the Palace, The Emperor and his retinue walk through halls and rooms. The décor is neoclassic—opulent yet minimal, the walls studded with portraits of the historic Napoleon Bonaparte and scenes of his former glory. The royal bee insignia is everywhere. This Bonaparte is much taller and statelier than his claimed predecessor, he strides swiftly and decisively, while his advisors and councilors struggle to keep pace with him. They plague him with the business of state, the Emperor’s replies are curt and impatient; he flings documents at the wall, snatches new ones from his Aide-de-Camp. Rips up anything that displeases him. Doors are flung open, one chamber after another…
1.3 INT/ EXT. PALACE.DAY
Entering one room is a surprise: the doors swing wide open and the stately elegance of the palace décor vanishes, mysteriously it has become a portal: ragged shafts of light, market sounds straggling in, a deserted market stall, baskets with a few moldy oranges, a crippled deformed child on the floor, babbling. The extreme heat and a plethora of olfactory sensations hit the astonished Emperor and his retinue—and with that, out of nowhere, a hail of poison darts. A bodyguard slumps immediately. Dead.
The stunned courtiers, realizing what has happened spring into action immediately—
Napoleon is immortal!
The Emperor is shielded, and dragged off to safety….
The soldiers struggle to push the doors shut—but not before several are dead and the lame (and demented) child crawls into the alien-ness of the palace and disappears in the confusion.
Through out the Palace are shouts of treason. We follow the Prime Minister, Prince Bénévent, running as fast as limp can carry his overly wigged and powdered person. He screams orders to his servants:
Where is the Head of Palace Security? Find me Fouché!
And where is she?
Who your excellency?
(removing his wig and smacking the servant with it—on impact, a cloud of powder billows)
That mulatto bitch! Find her! Find the mulatto bitch!!
FOUCHÉ, the Head of Secret Police and Palace Security enters the room. When he sees BÉNÉVENTE’S state, he smiles. He pulls out a wireless device and activates it.
A whirlwind away,
INT. OPERA HOUSE. EVENING
A baroque inspired opera house converted into a sold out rock arena. The crowd is chanting ecstatically for REVOLUTION—the name of the band and frontperson. On a darkened stage the gloved hand of LEXICON takes hold of a microphone .
“Ladies, Gentlemen, boys, girls and whatever else falls between, the hour is upon us! Embrace the REVOLUTIOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNN!!!!”
The crowd goes insane as the band strikes up a signature tune. In an exclusive VIP box is a group of extraordinarily beautiful and striking men and women—varying shades of black. The most astounding of them all is a light skinned black woman with leopard like eyes in a sheer gown, spotted with glittering sequins in strategic places. We realize the sequins are fixed to her skin beneath the gown… this is the EMPRESS EUGENIE, and her attendants of uncommon loveliness. They are all quite young, not yet twenty…
She is watching the band with rapt interest like everyone else. The doors behind her swing unceremoniously and several armed man barge in, they are immediately barred by her overly beautiful bodyguards. FOUCHÉ displaying his Palace Insignia, passes through to the EMPRESS. She rises, indignant—about to protest—FOUCHÉ’S men seize her—
One of her LADIES-IN-WAITING intervenes—
This is an outrage, do you realize who you are manhandling in this fashion!
She is hit roughly, all the other attendants gasp and cower—the EMPRESS EUGENIE has begun to tremble, her eyes wide open with fright—
Madame, you are under arrest under the charge of conspiring to kill the Emperor—
EUGENIE faints as she hears this, before she blacks out, the world swirls about her, she sees REVOLUTION, a glittering rock androgyne take the stage. REVOLUTION begins to sing Hold Back The Dawn as the Title/Credits begin to roll.
Futuresign ©2004 2013 onomé ekeh