The excerpt above is a clip from the short film Attrition, which I wrote and directed. It represents an earlier version of the pages included below. There are significant differences between the filmed version and the script, as the short was eventually adapted into the pilot you've been reading on this platform. I invite you to enjoy both! you can watch the full length short film here:
Previous Episode
In the previous episode, Yesu and Avaline ventured on one final excursion into the city of Castrum, only to discover they were being followed by someone attempting to signal them with the enigmatic symbol of the Drinking Gourd.
INT. OFFICE OF PRENATAL MATRICULATION - TRIAGE HALL -DAY
The overcrowded processing hall is loud and dank. Avaline and Yesu wait wearily in a slow-moving line, inching forward toward a banks of seamless, frosted glass doors marked with the insignia of the Department.
The insignia: a bald eagle with wings outstretched — one talon clutching a set of unbalanced scales, the other a banner inscribed with the Latin phrase "Quidam enim bonum."
Each time the doors hiss open, rows of steely desks come into view — each manned by a "Stamper," flanked by a couple awaiting judgment. Once one couple finishes their business, an AI avatar, over the loudspeaker, calls the next.
The hall feels cold, impersonal, tense.
Overhead, a giant holo-clock reads 15:37.
AI AVATAR (O.S.) | NINETY-THREE.
The line inches forward. The two are nudged ahead, visibly drained by the slow, grinding wait—nearly catatonic, barely able to speak. The Room is on edge, its discourse anxious and chafing.
AI AVATAR (O.S.) | SEVENTY-NINE.
SURAJ (sharply) | This doesn't make any sense.
With a calm, protective tug, Yesu brings his wife in closer.
AI AVATAR (O.S.) | SIXTY-TWO.
SURAJ (Dangerously confused) | This doesn't- hey (rudely tapping Yesu) Hey, What number are you?
YESU (cautious) | Forty-seven
SURAJ (exasperated ) | Are the numbers going backwards?
AI AVATAR (O.S.) | ONE'O-SIX.
YESU | Are you in the right line?
SURAJ | What?
YESU | I don't think you're in the right line.
Avaline’s eyes follow a detachment of surveillance spheres as they quietly hover toward Suraj, forming a halo above him—just out of his sight. Almost everyone in the hall sees it, but no one dares to warn him. The room falls hauntingly silent.
SURAJ | Right line?
YESU (whispering) | They don't make it clear, you just have to know.
SURAJ (in disbelief) | Just have to know?
AVALINE | And don't go by whose in front, somewhere the order got messed up, just go by the number.
Saraj is still hopelessly confused.
SURAJ | I'm not from here. Please can someone explain this? They told me I had to come here?
YESU | I'm sorry, I don't know how to help you.
AVALINE | You should keep quiet.
AI AVATAR (O.S.) | THIRTY-FIVE.
Suraj watches as a young couple in white citizen-wear is freed from the oppressive mass, making their way toward the frosted doors.
SURAJ (Shouting ahead) | This doesn't make any sense...someone explain this!
The halo of drones strobes red.
Suraj steps into another line. A tussle breaks out. Security moves in amid indistinct shouting.
The drones descend like hawks, each taking its turn to stun him. He collapses to the ground.
The room suppresses a collective scream—they know better. Guards drag him out.
AI AVATAR (O.S.) | Prenatal registry are lines one through four. Matriculation, lines four through seven. Please make sure you're in your designated line.
There is a collective muted groan as some in the crowd reshuffle. Avaline and Yesu remain steady.
YESU (kissing Ava's crown) | Almost through.
AI AVATAR | FORTY-SEVEN
YESU | See.
Politely, Ava and Yesu push through the line, reaching the closed glass barriers. The frost fades, revealing a genderless, full-body holographic avatar projected within the glass.
AI AVATAR | Please identify reason for visit.
The avatar wears the all-white citizen-wear of “the model citizen,” its collar adorned with gold pins representing every labor class.
Its glaring blue eyes seem to pierce right through Avaline and Yesu, twitching constantly—reading every expression, micro-reaction, and biometric change.
AI AVATAR (pleasant) | Please confirm validation.
Yesu scans his fingerprints. There is a pleasant tone, the only soothing sounds in the room. The kiosk screen reads:
AI AVATAR | Yesu Davis, 39. SS registry confirms 87% Classification 5 ancestry. No criminal history. Veteran. Honorable discharge. Medical history, acceptable. Labor class, acceptable. Ratio quota, eligible.
Validation confirmed.
Ava scans hers.
AI AVATAR | Avaline Davis, 37. SS registry confirms 82% Classification 5 ancestry. No criminal history. Biometric history: acceptable. Labor class: acceptable. Ratio quota: eligible. Validation confirmed. Marriage status: registered. Prenatal matriculation: pending. Confirmed for final evaluation.
Please proceed.
Somewhere near the back of the slow-moving line, in the shadows, the teen in the hoodie has quietly returned—watching as the two cross into the interview area.
INT. OFFICE OF PRENATAL MATRICULATION - INTERVIEW AREA - CONTINUOUS
Yesu scans the room for the holographic projection of the number 47, guiding them to their assigned notary.
An officious notary — a “Stamper” — Mr. Bickle sits behind a pristine desk, cloaked in a veneer of congeniality, dressed in an all-white, band-collar military uniform adorned with rank insignia.
Every notary across all the rows wears the same uniform and holds the same rank. On each desk, the nameplate reads "Mr. Bickle" or "Ms. Bickle."
The glow in their eyes betrays the presence of a biometric implants — piercing with the same all-seeing gaze as the AI avatar.
From the short Film:
MR BICKLE (smiling) | Hello there, how can I help you?
AVALINE (reaching for his hand) | Mr Bickle...we're looking to finally finish up this process.
MR BICKLE (shaking her hand) | Well, that's fantastic, let me see what you have left.
Yesu can’t help but eye the stamp on the desk—the true gatekeeper.
Mr. Bickle taps and swipes at an interface visible only through his implant, taking so long it makes the couple uncomfortable.
A holo-stamp SLAMS onto a pristine government document, burning its iridescent notarized seal of approval.
BICKEL FIVE (female) | Congratulations. Your request is approved.
Avaline and Yesu watch the couple in white embrace, overjoyed.
BICKLE FIVE (O.C.) | Just a few more signatures and you're good to go.
Ava and Yesu's Bickle still swipes at the air, scrutinizing their record.
AVALINE | We've filed all the paperwork, passed the examinations, and filed all our notary work...here.
She nervously starts to shuffle for something in her large purse.
YESU | I have it.
Yesu hands her a neatly stuffed folder with the unstamped document on top.
AVALINE (handing the folder to Bickle) | It's all there, all the forms, the results, all our records. Everything.
Bickle takes the forms graciously, giving only a cursory glance before sliding the top one aside, revealing others littered with stamps from various steps in the process.
YESU | It's all there.
MR BICKLE (closing the folder) | Yes, I see that. Very good
Bickle turns his attention back to his invisible screen. He swipes.
MR BICKLE | I see that both of you are in outstanding health, and your records are both truly extraordinary.
He swipes.
MR BICKLE |Both have acceptable employment status.
He swipes.
MR BICKLE | Ah, Yesu, an actual factory worker. So few of you are left! What a privilege.
Yesu passes him an obligatory nod.
MR BICKLE | Just a few mandatory questions, ok?
They both nod.
MR BICKLE (towards Yesu) | Is this choice something you're both sure about?
Yesu is confused.
AVALINE | Oh yes, absolutely, we've wanted a family for a long time.
MR BICKLE (towards Yesu) | The government will leverage a great deal of responsibility. If you have any doubts. Can you handle this responsibility?
YESU (sharply) | We're prepared for the responsibility.
MR BICKLE (quickly towards Avaline) | As you know, this is a very selective process. If there's any hint of doubt, (reaching in his drawer) we're more than happy to-
YESU | No doubts. A family, a child is the only thing I've ever wanted...i'm ready.
MR BICKLE | Ms Avaline, do you feel the same?
AVALINE | Yes, or course.
MR BICKLE (a beat) | Good very good, that's quite remarkable now-days. I'm certainly sold! One final thing to check.
Mr Bickle returns to the invisible screen. There is another pause.
MR BICKLE | Hmm.
AVALINE | Is something wrong?
MR BICKLE | Hmm...well that's interesting.
Mr Bickle is very obviously flustered.
AVALINE | What is?
MR BICKLE | Well...unfortunately, your request for sanctioned pregnancy must be been denied.
YESU | What do you mean denied?
AVALINE | I don't understand. Has something been misplaced? Are we missing a form?
MR BICKLE | Oh, no you've done everything.
YESU | Explain what you mean by denied?
AVALINE | Did we do something wrong?
MR BICKLE | Calm down, you've done nothing wrong. The Bureau has simply adjusted your demographic's percentage limit.
AVALINE | Adjusted?
YESU | What does that mean? I thought they were fixed?
AVALINE | Why have they been...adjusted. I thought we enrolled during an opening?
MR BICKLE | Every so often the Bureau reevaluates the birth and death ratio projections to produce adjusted percentage limitations.
YESU | Is there a petition or appeal or whatever? Another exam?
MR BICKLE | Oh no, no. This is an executive level adjustment, those can't be appealed. Now i-
YESU | You can't just adjust the numbers.
MR BICKLE | These aren't my numbers to adj-
YESU | We started this two years ago, the numbers where fine then.
MR BICKLE | I understand, but the numbers are different now.
YESU | Why are they different now?
MR BICKLE (hesitant) | Well...well, sometimes when there are (condescendingly) "disruptions"...the Bureau reserves the prerogative to make emergency adjustments.
Avaline is in disbelief.
YESU (subdued) | Listen to me, I don't care about the Bureau's perceived disruptions. I followed the law. I followed your process, so just please just stamp the document?
MR BICKLE | Sir, I ca-
YESU (insistent) | Just stamp the document.
MR BICKLE (serious) | As you know the percentage is adjusted to protect the public peace. Adherence is a civic duty-
YESU | My god, he wants to talk to me about Civic duty. Just stamp the document!
Avaline struggles to keep him docile. His mounting resistance draws the attention of the other Bickles, including the “approved” couple signing their final forms.
A surveillance drone hovers ominously nearby.
Ava is scared now.
AVALINE (nervous) | Please Yesu
YESU (to Avaline) | I served. I don't need a lecture about civic duty.
MR BICKLE | Yes and your remarkable military record helped expedite the proc-
YESU (to Avaline) | We've done everything, gone above and beyond. We did everything we were supposed to do. We endured this whole convoluted process. (to Bickle) We followed your rules! Just stamp the document!
(to Avaline) I promise you we're going to have a family.
MR BICKLE | Mr Davis, please, calm down. I can't do that.
(a beat) Yesu forcefully gets up.
Another band of drones joins, all strobing red, forming a crimson halo above him. Yesu lowers his eyes, submissive.
AVALINE (diplomatically) | Is there really nothing else?
MR BICKLE | Providing you still meet the criteria, you're of course able to attempt again in 10 years time.
AVALINE (stunned) | Ten years?
Avaline gets up to hide her distress in Yesu's arms. They turn to leave.
MR BICKLE | Oh! One last thing!
Bickle pulls two metal tubes from the drawer, stretching them towards the couple.
MR BICKLE (congenially) | If you change your mind about children, these sterilization kits are suitable for both male and female.
They walk away without them.
MR BICKLE | Don’t forget, if you have any accidents, there are a number of stations available where unsanctioned organic matter can be safely disposed. (slightly louder) And remember, non-sanctioned pregnancies will result in immediate termination and warrant permanent sterilization!
YESU | Voluntary genocide. Voluntary FUCKING genocide.
Absolutely shocked, Mr Bickle gently returns the tubes back into the drawer, stocked full of sterilization kits.
Mr Bickle's bio-mechanical eye glances down the line of other "Bickles" who marked the spectacle.
He gestures his finger and the surveillance drones move to follow the Davis' out.
INT. OFFICE OF PRENATAL MATRICULATION - OUTER HALL - CONTINUOUS
Still trailed by drones. The couple traverse the busy outer hall, lined with vertical biometric trackers and surveillance drones randomly scanning people in the crowd.
Yesu’s outburst did not go unnoticed, as pointed whispers rippled through the crowd.
Ava places her hands on Yesu's heaving chest, giving him a look that says, control your breathing.
He becomes aware of himself again, and together they adopt the same controlled, demure poise carried by the "proper" citizens around them.
Still, they are eyed by guards. The prejudice of high citizens is evident in their gawking—each making note of the drone trailing the two, a clear sign that Yesu and Avaline are disruptors who should be watched.
Yesu and Avaline meet their gazes with forced smiles and polite nods, but everything in their eyes screams: get me out.
At last, they exit.
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