The Gardener - 1.0 - Elliot
Elliot Gardener, Biodome custodian
The Gardener - Episode 1.0 - Taking place during the same time period as season one (Breakwall), this mini series follows Elliot, a trusted Biodome Custodian as he finally acts on the questions that have plagued his conscience for years. The main story continues on Dec. 17th! Follow us on Twitter for news and updates. Join us on discord to hang out with cast and crew! Want to support the show? Please check out our Patreon as Cybernautica is 100% Fan Supported! Make sure to stay up to date with our free, no spam newsletter
Cybernautica is intended for mature audiences on account of mature language, theme and violence. Please be advised.
EPISODE CREDITS:
Aubrey Poppleton as Elliot
Marcus Salley as The Voice
Will Handford as Gate Guard
---
Dan Boud as the Narrator
Written by Damian Szydlo & Alexander Baxter
Direction by Amanda Hufford
Sound Design by Chris Henry
Script Editing by Jupiter Sanders
Show theme by Doug Maxwell
Music from Audioblocks & Fesliyan Studios
TRANSCRIPT
FADE IN
RADIO
“Thanks for tuning in, kids. Unlike the “mighty” Kraken, we do not lie. A lie is something that infects your soul. Candies the truth. Here at Radio Free Arcadia, we don’t sugarcoat things. We tell you the way things are and the way things could be… Should be… All you need do, dear listener… is open- your- eyes.”
[The sound of the broadcast fades as sleep finally takes Elliot Gardener. His thoughts in his dreams reverb and coalesce, influenced by the anarchic radio broadcast.]
ELLIOT
“For as long as I can remember, whenever I sleep, I dream about that place. A world on fire, on the edge of exile. District 2. Arcadia.”
“Unlike Boeotia, it isn’t in balance. It’s not meticulously cultivated and curated. No, rather it’s a place of struggle and… urban decay. The sprawl… the very opposite of everything we hold dear here in our biodomes.
But bubbling up from under that suffering, comes freedom… Choice… You can be a hero of the people. At least that’s what the broadcasts say.”
INT. ELLIOT'S APARTMENT - 07:42 AM
[The ring of an alarm blares, rousing the young man from his slumber.]
ELLIOT
“Ugh. What time is it? Oh shit- Is it really… I… oh no. I slept in again.”
[There’s a shuffle of cloth and sounds of zipping as Elliot gets dressed.]
ELLIOT
“If I skip breakfast… and a shower… Maybe I can still make it on time for check in. I ‘really’ don’t need anymore demerits!”
[More sounds of rushing around and getting ready]
ELLIOT
[struggling]
“It’s moments…. Like this… that I’m thankful I have my own place now… the last thing I could possibly need right now is dad telling me that I need to stop staying up late on account of my ‘programs’. Programs! Who even says that anymore?”
“Alright! Okay! Passkey, check. Where’s my Holo-comm? Retrace my steps. Got home, ate half an hour past the recommended time slot for my occupational hours and… fell asleep listening to… aha! Got it!”
NARRATOR
Sweeping up his Holo-Comm, Elliot had barely let the door close behind him before he was fumbling back into his apartment. It wouldn’t do for an aspiring young botanist to leave his plants to famish. It wouldn’t do at all.
EXT. BOETIA WALKWAY - 07:55 AM
NARRATOR
Finally, satisfied and put together enough for the day ahead he was out the door again and waiting for a hyperlift that seemed anything but hyper… to stop at the hundred and thirty-third floor before rapidly descending down to the walkway below. Once there he’d be only a short but panicked run to the gated entrance of his biodome; which stood as one of many such bubbles attached to this main artery.
Let it not be said that the housing department of this district wasn’t efficient. Elliot didn’t know a single person in his admittedly small group of acquaintances that didn’t live within a short jog from their station. Which was lucky for him and his awful sleeping schedule.
The arrangement was typical of Boeotian life. Where those who worked in Megaris or Malis would most often commute to residency in Attica, District 3 housed those vital to it’s operation within it’s infrastructure. He wasn’t altogether sure why that was, and this certainly wasn’t the time to contemplate it.
ELLIOT
“If only they could see me now. I can almost hear them; telling me to stop talking to myself.”
[scoffs]
“But...It’s not talking to myself. It’s more like thinking out loud and… it's perfectly normal and nothing to be ashamed of… unlike making excuses to parental figures that aren’t even here to chastise me…-”
GUARD
“Good morning, Elliot. Cuttin’ it kinda close today, aren’t you?”
ELLIOT
“Heh. Y-yeah. You know. Had trouble sleeping.”
GUARD
“Don’t sweat it, kid. Get inside and clock in, I’ll pretend I didn’t see ya.”
ELLIOT
“Heh. Thanks.”
NARRATOR
Collecting himself with a nervous nod to the guard, Elliot bustled through the gate as the large, golden hued metal doors to the Biodome slid open, ushering him out from the downpour of Neo-Atlantis’ ever persistent rain and into a world that seemed almost alien to the one he’d just left.
[the whole audiosphere begins changing to that of a vibrant reserve, bees buzzing and birds chirping]
ELLIOT
“If only I could talk to others as well as I could ‘think out loud’ to myself.
Then maybe I wouldn’t feel quite so stupid when people catch me doing it.”
NARRATOR
Grass under one’s feet was a sensation few born within Neo-Atlantis would ever experience. At least without the help of neuro-trid holo technology. Boeotia was different from the rest of the city though. The ‘Great Garden of Neo-Atlantis’ is the center for all the delights we’d otherwise miss from the old world. From agriculture to livestock and everything in-between, the biodomes could house and nurture any imaginable ecosystem.
ELLIOT
(Contented sigh)
“I… do love my job, though. I love this place. All those years studying; the late nights and the unbelievable stress. The competition for this position. It… finally paid off. A new apartment, my independence… and just… look at this!
We can grow more here than in even the most ideal natural conditions back in the old world… And quicker too… much faster than we could by working beside mother nature. One more step in our evolution I suppose, all thanks of course to my little buddies!”
[For a moment the buzzing intensifies and a bee lands on his hand.]
ELLIOT
“Speak of the devil- Or… well, the bio-engineered synth-bee. Or technically speaking; nanotechnology… bees, since I don’t think you guys have any biological components, do you?
Safety regulations say the reason we don’t let you guys out there is because Kraken fears it could start one of those grey goo events. I don’t believe that talk for one minute.
We all know they wound you guys up so tight you’d never unravel in such a trite way. You’re a miracle. Even if you’re a miracle that’s acting a little strangely.
Now go on. Go pollinate somethin’, bud.
We’ve both got work to do.”
NARRATOR
He took a moment to breathe in the oxygen rich atmosphere of the biodome. Filtration systems and sea air be damned, there was no replacement for air that had gone through the natural filter of the domes greenery. Flowers, light forest; the verdant biosphere was both alien and familiar. It tugged at buried memory, trickling through the cracks of his recollection. Of the world outside of this place, outside the walls of Neo-Atlantis… along with all the possibilities and hope that one day the City on the Sea might share it’s bounty once again with the human race as a whole. Earth reborn in the new image of mankind's manifested destiny. A brighter day and a new world for all.
With a sigh, Elliot pushed the strange brew of emotions aside to instead focus on the work ahead. Stepping inside a small glass building that was really not much more than a glorified control booth, he switched on the holo projection units that displayed the many screens that monitored every facet of the biodome. Roughly six kilometers of natural wonder, every inch micromanaged to a purpose. It was his job to maintain that order and to make any tweaks necessary to the Synth-bees to keep things running at optimal efficiency.
This was what he was made to do, if of course natural born humans were ever ‘made’ to do anything at all. All the questions, all the nervousness of social interaction and even the existential dread of daily existence retreated in the face of his routine. There was a peace in this, a meditation of toil… and before he knew it his shift was finished and he was completing his last report for the day on his Holo-Comm.
[The sound of Elliot entering information into the device, filling out a form and reading aloud as he does so.]
ELLIOT
“Outgoing crop: Optimal.
One of the synth-bees went haywire, will need a replacement.”
[sounds of the Gardner shutting down for the night before gathering the last of his things and locks up the bio-dome]
GUARD
“Good evening. Taking anything out of the dome with you, today? Anything that needs to be reported?
ELLIOT
“Nothing that needs reporting. Just this malfunctioning Synth-bee. They work hard. Little fella deserves better than recyke.”
GUARD
“If you say so. You running a retirement home for old worker bees or something?”
ELLIOT
“That’s… a thought. I mean we shouldn’t just abandon them, you know? So I guess my care IS a little bit like a retirement home!”
GUARD
“You’ve got a big heart, kid. Seems harmless enough. Say, think you can bring me out some of the surplus fruit stuffs sometime? I want to do something special for my boyfriend and that’d go… well it’d go a long way.”
ELLIOT
[starts unsure but realizes the exchange of what’s happening here]
“I mean… the high efficiency of the domes means that surplus really isn’t a thing but… Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see what I can do.”
GUARD
[amused]
“That’d be great. Have a good weekend, Gardner!”
ELLIOT
“You… you too!”
[sounds of Elliot’s footsteps as he walks home along the walkway]
ELLIOT [Internal Monologue]
Walking home along the walkway, I felt bathed in the golden light of Neo-Atlantis’ sunset rather than soaked by it’s persistent rainfall for once. I imagined I could hear the beating of the waves off the breakwall even if I knew that they were far too distant to actually make out.
There’s a lot to be said for the technological advances that sustain the many domes here in Boeotia. It’s a carefully constructed infrastructure. A balanced, pre-programmed harmony. I can’t help but think that maybe we have more in common with the lives of my Synth-bees than any of us would comfortably like to admit.
I… love what I do. The feeling of dirt in my hands. Tinkering with details most people could never even imagine. All the small cycles working just beneath the perceivable surface. There’s a reward in knowing that what I do fills bellies all over the city.
So if I love all this so much… then how come I can’t stop dreaming of another life? Or maybe it’s not even my life. The broadcasts from Arcadia… it’s all so broken. So inefficient yet they seem to prefer it that way? Have we just abandoned more malfunctioning bees, as a society? Why would we not want to help these people and… what if I’d ended up just like them?
If life over there is so bad, why can’t Kraken fix it? If it isn’t, then why is it forbidden? Why do we get de-merits for even taking a flightcar into Arcadia?
These are questions I can’t answer from here. I know that. The world from where I’m standing on this walkway is as simple as it is fulfilling. Prepackaged and constructed. So if I can’t see it from here… then maybe, like the broadcasts say… I need to find a way to open my eyes.
I need to see it for myself.
FADE OUT