Clockwork Angels: Comic Script (16 page)

View from a distance with a seagull in the foreground. We see the raft-island, small boats around. The coldfire globe dangling from the crane structure.

ANARCHIST

You need to understand your importance, why you’re a lynchpin.

OWEN

But I’m not important. I was an assistant apple-orchard manager, but that was a long time ago. I’m … nobody.

PANEL 2

The Anarchist lounges against the structure. He holds up his hand with the burn scar (not the tattoo).

ANARCHIST

And that, my dear friend, is why you’re important. The Watchmaker’s entire Stability depends on a world of nobodies content to do nothing. Be free!

PANEL 3

A big panel that should cause a lump in the throat to anyone afraid of heights. The Anarchist holds onto a wooden strut at the top of the tower with one hand, and leans back out into the abyss, just dangling there, his feet planted like a kid on a playground structure. His eyes are closed, his face ecstatic as the wind whips his hair and clothes.

ANARCHIST

Can you feel it, Owen Hardy? No safety net, no harness, just the wind and freedom.

ANARCHIST

A life without risk is a life without … life! Rejoice in your freedom. Don’t stop thinking big.

PANEL 4

Owen clenches his fist. Can be just a close-up of his fist, or a larger shot.

OWEN

I’d rather be home with my friends. I’ve had enough of being your pawn.

PANEL 5

Seemingly distracted, the Anarchist shades his eyes, looking out to sea.

ANARCHIST

A pawn? Owen Hardy, what do you think
destiny
is?

ANARCHIST

Ah, I see our scout is returning. Hmmm … unexpected.

PAGE 10

PANEL 1

Big panel, the scout airship (filling most of panel) comes racing back across the sky, spouting long curls of vapor as its engines are cranked up to capacity. It’s wobbling and careening in the sky, sounding an alarm. From his perch, Owen looks at it, frowning.

SFX

Clannng! Clannng! Clannng!

OWEN

I suppose she’s found another ship to wreck … more innocent victims.

PANEL 2

As Owen looks down at him, the Anarchist begins climbing down the tower as fast as he can go.

ANARCHIST

No … that’s an entirely different sort of alarm.

PANEL 3

Wreckers catch the tether ropes from the scout airship, holding it in place as they crouch and strain. The female pilot leaps out of her ship to the deck. She is frantic, her hair windblown, her goggles askew.

PILOT

They’re coming! A full force! To arms!

PANEL 4

Wreckers scrambling on the decks, grabbing up spears, tridents, clubs. We see Xandrina with her fingers to her lips, whistling loud.

SFX (XANDRINA)

Fhweeeeeeeee!

WRECKER

Grab anything you can fight with.

WRECKER #2

The big weapons are belowdecks!

PANEL 5

Owen drops to the deck from the last struts of the tower. The Anarchist is striding away. He looks grim, but unhurried.

OWEN

What is it?
Who’s
coming?

PANEL 6

The Anarchist turns and points to the sky with an expansive gesture.

ANARCHIST

Our loving Watchmaker, of course.

PAGE 11

FULL PAGE

This is the most dramatic page in the issue, a real movie poster. The sky is full of battle dirigibles, like the previously seen airships, but enormous and ominous, ribbed fins, splashes of red and black, churning coldfire-laced steam. Cannons extend below the gondolas. They have the honeybee symbol prominently emblazoned on the fabric sides, but this is a more dangerous-looking symbol, the honeybee turned to the side, abdomen drawn up and ready to sting, with a prominent stinger showing.

On the water below is a full fleet of battle steamers, chugging and belching tall pillars of steam.

Owen and the Anarchist stand on the edge of one of the Wrecker ships, looking out at the giant force coming toward them.

ANARCHIST

It seems we’ve been found.

OWEN

I doubt the Watchmaker is here to rescue me …

PAGE 12

PANEL 1

The motley Wreckers dash about the decks, preparing their defenses, frantic. Many have grabbed swords.

PANEL 2

Ignoring Owen, the Anarchist strides among the Wreckers, as if he’s waterproof to all the flurry around him. He raises both hands, rallying them.

ANARCHIST

Embrace the opportunity! Draw your swords and prepare to fight! You are the Free People of the Sea!

PANEL 3

Men and women climb out of hatches from belowdecks, carrying armloads of swords, handing up stacks of flintlock-type rifles. The Wreckers are eager to grab them.

PANEL 4

Owen’s surly “nurse” Xandrina with her magenta scarf on her head and sash tied around her waist, brandishes a long and wicked-looking butcher knife.

PANEL 5

The burly wrecker (who clubbed Owen at the end of issue 5) is at the top of a mast, holding a long flintlock rifle in one hand and waving it at the sky.

WRECKER

Damn your Stability, Watchmaker!

PANEL 6

With a wicked grin, the Anarchist grabs Owen’s shoulder, squeezing.

ANARCHIST

Isn’t it
glorious
?

PAGE 13

PANEL 1

Big panel, the Watchmaker’s armored dirigibles converge above the Wreckers’ raft-island. Uniformed Regulators (red, blue, and black uniforms) drop down on ropes, descending like a swarm.

PANEL 2

The steamer battleships close in, and a cannon blasts—with blue coldfire—toward the gathered ship hulls, knocking part of one to splinters.

SFX

Fwhooomm!

PANEL 3

At the railings of the Wrecker ships, Wreckers shout and fight in a frenzy, hurling debris down at tin-soldier Regulators who are swarming up the ships in perfect lines.

PANEL 4

On the decks, a line of Regulators drop to their knees and raise their rifles, in line, all synchronized. A captain shouts orders.

REGULATOR CAPTAIN

Tick. Tock. Three … two … one. FIRE!

PANEL 5

Many of the Wreckers on the deck are mowed down in the fusillade.

PAGE 14

PANEL 1

Like a raging mob stampede, the motley Wreckers howl and rush forward, completely disorganized, brandishing clubs, knives, swords, their own rifles. Xandrina is among them. They take some of the uniformed Regulators by surprise, falling upon several. It is total mayhem.

WRECKER

Get them!

WRECKER #2

They won’t know what hit ‘em!

PANEL 2

A second line of red-uniformed Regulators lines up and fires. They all look calm. Behind them, more Regulators drop down ropes from the dirigibles above.

REGULATOR CAPTAIN

Fire again. Perfect precision. Three … two … one. FIRE!

PANEL 3

On the deck, amidst smoke and chaos, Owen ducks low, running for cover. A bullet whangs off a crate nearby, sending up a shower of splinters.

OWEN

All is for the best … all is for the best! All is for the best!

PANEL 4

Xandrina is thrown backward, killed by a bullet in the chest. Her butcher knife goes flying out of her hand.

PANEL 5

Big dramatic panel. As the smoke from all the gunfire clears, the Watchmaker strides forward, tall, stiff, wearing a pseudo-military uniform.

WATCHMAKER

Fire as necessary. We have thousands of gold bullets.

WATCHMAKER

These vermin are in league with the Anarchist. They get what they deserve.

PANEL 6

Close-up of the Watchmaker’s ancient face, his eyes glowing blue with coldfire. He has a dangerous smile.

WATCHMAKER

Ah, and there you are, Owen Hardy. Exactly where you should be.

PAGE 15

PANEL 1

Owen tentatively rises up from where he’s taken shelter behind some strewn crates. The Watchmaker strides toward him.

OWEN

Me? Why do you care about me?

WATCHMAKER

The principle is proved. The need for perfect order is obvious. You must choose Stability. Step back into line.

WATCHMAKER

Back in Albion I will use you as my perfect example.

PANEL 2

The Anarchist runs across the deck, laughing, shouting. In his hand he carries a hissing alchemical bomb, which he hurls toward the fighters.

ANARCHIST

For Freedom!

PANEL 3

The bomb explodes in a great flash, throwing Regulators and Wreckers alike in all directions.

SFX

BOOM!

PANEL 4

The Watchmaker stands unruffled, fire and smoke all around. He shouts to the Regulators.

WATCHMAKER

Seize Owen Hardy and bring him back to the airships.

WATCHMAKER

Kill the rest.

PANEL 5

Panicked, Owen runs, stumbling over dead bodies, taking cover in the smoke. Show that Owen has snatched up a knife from one of the dead Wreckers. (He’ll need it in a few panels.)

PAGE 16

PANEL 1

Aerial shot: the battle airships let loose, blasting a volley from their gondola cannons.

SFX

FHWOOOOMMMMMM!

PANEL 2

Owen runs to the small scout airship that is bobbing, levitating, precariously tied to its tether ropes.

CAPTION (OWEN)

The Watchmaker …

CAPTION (OWEN)

The Anarchist …

PANEL 3

Owen scrambles aboard, climbing up (the airship is floating a few feet off the deck.

CAPTION (OWEN)

They both just want to use me.

CAPTION (OWEN)

But I choose not to decide. I refuse.

PANEL 4

Dangling from the open cabin of the airship, Owen leans out and cuts the tether rope.

CAPTION (OWEN)

That is my choice.

PANEL 5

On the decks of the Wrecker ships, the uniformed Regulators and the wild Wreckers are in a free-for-all, fighting in a frenzy.

PAGE 17

PANEL 1

The puttering, tattered scout airship rises into the sky. Clouds are gathering (there will be a storm by next page).

PANEL 2

A Black Guard Regulator points up to the sky, shouting. Other Regulators raise their rifles.

BLACK GUARD

One of the Wreckers is getting away! Open fire!

PANEL 3

Small panel. Close-up of a gray fabric balloon sack of the scout ship—a bullet strikes and punches a hole in the sack.

SFX

*Pockkk*

PANEL 4

Inside the cluttered scoutship, a very pale reminder of Pangloss’s glorious airship, Owen frantically works the controls.

OWEN

Life goes from bad to worse.

OWEN

Good thing I spent all that time with Commodore Pangloss aboard his airship …

PANEL 5

Owen’s hands fiddling with an exotic compass dial with cardinal points marked with alchemical symbols.

OWEN

Course set for Albion … I think. At least it’s the right direction.

PAGE 18

PANEL 1

In a dark, stormy sky, the airship is buffeted about in slashing rain. A curl of blue-tinted exhaust rises from the engines. We also see a thin tendril of escaping steam from the punctured air sack.

OWEN (FROM AIRSHIP)

If this wreck will take me all the way to the coast …

PANEL 2

Huddled inside the dim control deck, Owen opens an engine compartment, and his face is washed with pale blue glow from the coldfire reservoir … but it’s fading.

OWEN

Coldfire reservoirs are very low. The scout pilot must have burned most of them. Engines are going to fail soon …

PANEL 3

Owen looks longingly out the rain-streaked windshield, sees the starry night sky overhead.

OWEN

If this is supposed to be a great adventure, it doesn’t feel that way.

OWEN

I miss my father, and Barrel Arbor, and the Commodore … and the carnival.

OWEN

And Francesca …

PANEL 4

The sinking airship crashes into the water, collapsing as if it’s too weary. High waves surge all around.

PANEL 5

Gasping, Owen claws his way out, escaping the wrecked airship as it sinks in the waves.

CAPTION (OWEN)

Is this what the Watchmaker really wanted?

PANEL 6

Owen clings to scraps, part of a framework, a waterlogged and deflated air sack.

CAPTION (OWEN)

I was brought up to believe …

CAPTION (OWEN)

But what do I believe in now?

PAGE 19

PANEL 1

Dawn, gray and foggy. Owen and the scattered wreckage of the airship washes up on a rough, rocky beach.

CAPTION (OWEN)

This must be Albion … but not quite the way I remember it.

PANEL 2

A bedraggled Owen trudges up a steep path to get to the top of the headlands.