Scene 4.14 - Silica
EST: INT. Volcano Entrance, Isle of Dread
(The team has defeated the ISLE OF DREAD’S defenses and have set-up a camp with the two ships at the mouth of a large, cavernous entrance of the volcano. A large set of wide steps lead upward USC. JOHN THOMAS is using this break to bandage superficial laser wounds on others and mop-up errant acid-spitting trap-door spider bots with PATCH’S assistance. Most of the trapdoor spider bots are the mechanistic equivalent of being mortally wounded, yet it gives PATCH something fun to do. Throughout the scene, JOHN THOMAS obliges PATCH by casually and mercifully wasting any remnant PATCH identifies as a threat with his trusty laser pistol. Most of his attention, however, concerns the team and DIABLO’S motives.)
JOHN THOMAS
(Pacing:) Now what would Diablo want with archives from the early millennia? Nuclear technology? She's been there, done that. Cold fusion? She already knows all the tricks. Space? They didn't know the half of it. Come on, guys, got any ideas? (PETER relaxes within the comfort of ELIZA’S own brand of patio ergo-chair. JOHN THOMAS begins to pace again...) Anything from the industrial age to present day ... anything that comes to mind.
ROD
I’ll piggyback. Year-2000 culture? (Almost sure.) Disposable heirlooms.
JOHN THOMAS
Now you're talking. Which leads to... the question of why.
DICK
(Smoking, playing cribbage with PETER, shades on, black beret in place, joint inside a small cigarette holder positioned at the corner of his mouth. Looks like he scored 21 points. Before beginning his count:) Maybe she just wants us to think she’s cool or something. Fifteen-two, fifteen four...
JOHN THOMAS
We’re all in agreement on that one, and there isn’t one of us that wouldn’t like to know Belladonna a little better. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s got a little crush on the jailbait gemologist with a ardent admiration for amorous alliteration, but guys, she may be an incredibly-hot piece of... work, but she does evil things; we got to stop her nonetheless...
WOODY
How about their vernacular -- their slang --their jargon. You know, power lunches, cell phones, web sites. Something she wants to eminate.
ROD
The terms they used? Radical, fly -- politically correct.
JOHN THOMAS
Five-star. You go. Thinkin' outside the box, a real win-win. Anyone else got the 4-1-1?
DICK
New-technologies. (Takes a toke, passes it-) The Freedom Monitor, the ozone crisis, cloning organs, brain transplants, cryogenic realities. The nudist movement. Luna City's baby boom. The Hydroponic Revolution. (Hits pipe, looks at pillow-) Maybe she’s trying to befriend us with her ... unique technology. She’s got a penchant for doing what others never dare.
JOHN THOMAS
True, but we still know nothing for sure. Acronyms and anachronisms.
WOODY
How about our old star ship, Kanubis? (INDICA illustrates via hologram-) She’s always been interested in how we really got our superpowers, maybe she’s trying to know about that again.
SOUND: A shoe stepping on a stone step and scraping sand across step.
CUT TO:
ECU: ROD’S eyes dart left, head jerks an inch
JOHN THOMAS
(Slowing, suspecting it and acknowledging ROD simultaneously-) Now we're going over covered ground. They’re all great ideas, really, but maybe we need to-
PATCH
(This time toward the stairs:) Bark! Bark!
ROD
(First to take ninja stance.) Someone's coming!
JOHN THOMAS
(Through monocle:) Can’t... make... out -- Is it Diablo?
WILLIE
(Beat:) Uh, Jon-Tom, I don't think so.
CUT TO: POV, Sexy silhouettes of slotbots approaching single file
CU: WOODY'S face
TRUCK TO: PETER
WOODY
Looks like another girl...
CUT TO: POV WOODY, silhouette of slotbots fanning out
CUT TO: CU PETER
TRUCK TO DICK
PETER
Abunchagirlz...
DICK
Maybe it’s her welcoming committee.
TRUCK TO WOODY
WOODY
No Dick, I don't think so. Something's not right. Not right at all. Look at the way they move.
CUT TO: MS, SLOTBOTS, CLOSER, HIPS SWAYING
CUT TO: CU, WILLIE
WILLIE
Yeah. Oh yeah.
MUSIC UP
(The next minute or so encompasses an elaborate, physical and coordinated battle-sequence. The men never strike the women; they only block defensively. After many surprises, finally, the slotbots are subdued; their sexy costumes inadvertently taking the brunt of the damage. The men restrain them with plastic handcuffs. The women, bested, uniformly submit and behave, though their eyes flicker to one another like a firestorm throughout. It’s as if the men are speaking to one woman with several bodies, even though that’s not what is really going on -- it’s something between the ladies that we’ve been privy-to enough to know ourselves.)
RUBY
(Bra-strap showing, makeup smeared-) We won't tell you anything!
JADE
(Glasses crooked, fatigues ripped, shoes off-) You might as well deactivate us, we won't help you.
COPPER
(One pig-tail unravelled, lingerie top remains-) This volcano is a maze of tunnels, you'll never get Diablo in time!
OPAL
(Sharpshooting Broach-medal from blouse hanging, hair down, top buttons ripped-) You won't stop her-
JADE
(Shredded rags, smooth skin -- use your imagination-) Doctor! Help!
GOLDIE
(Fatigues like a school-girl uniform, after the summer break-) Professor! Save us!
JOHN THOMAS
Gentlemen, keep an eye on the ... guests, juice-up the replicator, let them pick out some new clothes to wear and most important, ready The Sativa. I think I’m going to need it.
PETER
Allcheckerout.
WILLIE
I'll double-check her out.
WOODY
(To JOHN THOMAS:) Uh, I'll triple-check whatever they're checking and double-checking out.
ROD
(Aside, gently stopping him:) John, I gotta bad feeling about this -- level with me, what's Diablo really up to?
JOHN THOMAS
I- (Pause.) I could be off the mark. It could be nearly anything. I really don't know, (Pause.) but I'm going to find out. (Looks to others, back to ROD.) Get us ready for a speedy take-off. (Long pause, ROD subtly nods understanding.) Go to-it, Patch, find the doctor!
PATCH
Bark!
(Patch sniffs the ground, JOHN THOMAS' leg -- a slotbot or two -- then, makes a bee-line toward the stairs prominently USC, from where the magnificent seven arrived.)
JOHN THOMAS
Good-boy!
(JOHN THOMAS follows PATCH out. WOODY examines the workings and construction of GOLDIE, unable to physically struggle against WOODY’S clinical observations, yet GOLDIE is expressively reluctant to have her womanly secrets known; whether such intrusions are harmless or not.)
WOODY
Impressive! I've never quite seen anything like this! The design is incredible, and so... perfect! Folded titanium mounts, adamantine frame, frictionless processor bearings, super-conducted neuron-networks! And look at this! (The men gather closer, transfixed, regardless of whether they know what a neuron-processor bearing really is, heck, he’s showing off her chest-) Electron zillabytes, cold-fusion generators -- and she didn't stop there -- nanocapacators! (They look somewhat South.) This is so, so (Sees everyone leaning in-) -- ingenious! (Looks at head; the lips do not move, but her eyes say all.) Oh, her design is devilish, all right, Hee-hee! She did it perfectly! Oh-ho! (Points at her eye:) Look at this!
ECU: GOLDIE
POV: GOLDIE
(They lean in, but all they see is babe -- insensitive to her frightened, over-concerned expression of mistrust with a candidly and unnaturally-quick-darting eye, memorizing every detail of her lurid oppressors wanting heaven-knows-what -- but, by Diablo, she’ll have evidence.)
MS:GROUP
WOODY (Cont’d)
It’s a stream-lined, macro-macular fluid delivery system from a neuron-interactive chemical synthesizer! (Pause.) Real tears, real saliva, real sweat. A true genius of our time!
ROD
Uh, that’s really great, man, (Pause, looks up, to COPPER-) will it work?
WOODY
My goodness! She's even got a separate display matrix for the auditory, olfactory and optometric sensors, recording and cross-referencing who-knows-how-many neuron-dynamic relays... and who can say how she's got the tactile system interfaced...
PETER
(Looks from GOLDIE to other men and gestures, not patronizing or overly facetious, just hurriedly agreeable, as if summing-it-up-already; like all the others looking on, PETER’S got his own plan to interface the tactile system -- almost rhetorically:) Hookahn say? (Glances to RUBY, back to WOODY.) Willit work, Woodee?
WOODY
(Looks up.) I may have to bypass additional protocol relays-
DICK
(Looks at AMBER.) Woody.
WILLIE
(Eyes OPAL.) The others-
PETER
Canyaduet?
WOODY
Well, their programming is much more sophisticated than-
ROD
(Piping in:) Woody! Yes or no, man! Will it work?
WOODY
(Pulling Ganjaray Rifle from his back and giving it inspection-arms.) Well, yes. (Looks up.) Yes, I think it will.
CUT TO: PATCH leading JOHN THOMAS to doorway of volcano/orb of doom.
(DIABLO stands at the doorway, laser rifle trained on JOHN THOMAS’ chest.)
DIABLO
Well, well, well, it seems you've managed to get by all my guards. And since I’ve canceled happy-hour, I don't think this is a social call. What do you want, John Thomas?
JOHN THOMAS
Diablo, put the rifle down and surrender peacefully.
DIABLO
Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Hmmm. You look determined. Okay, maybe I should. Okay, I give up, take me in. (Moves rifle off-target, beat, trains sight between PATCH’S eyes-) Psyche! You know you all only look immortal... Hey, isn’t that breed of dog supposed to be extinct?
JOHN THOMAS
(Bringing attention back to him-) Diablo! (Laser sight returns to his chest.) You know I can't let you do that.
DIABLO
You don't have a choice.
CU: JOHN THOMAS’ head.
JOHN THOMAS
Quit stalling and stand down! The game's over, Diablo. You've run out of machines to do the fighting for you, and you know you're no match for me. Give yourself up. (Out of nowhere, laser-bolt barely misses him, JOHN THOMAS is too quick-) Put the rifle down! (Pause, almost exasperated, exhales:) May- Maybe we'll talk about keeping the charges against you to a minimum. (Another shot, same hole, misses other side of head. Pause. JOHN THOMAS again centers himself.) Come on, Diablo! This is your last chance!
DIABLO
You fool! (Shoulders rifle:) You have no idea what you're up against this time. Silica! Front and center!
(A complete and alluring SILICA marches from the shadows, hips swaying and glitter eye shadow sparkling beneath her silvery afro. Her sensuousness radiates a strange, dark lust of an earlier time. Ancient, yet so ... contemporary, like how sandalwood or musk smells. A hippie-meets-flapper-meets-streetwalker; the common theme of design throughout is art-deco; yet SILICA is deco-and-disco. An odd, yet-hypnotic beat, not-too-unlike that of a heart, constantly thumps within her. Her glow is somewhat hypnotic -- like smoke on ice; very eerie and darkly suggestive.)
JOHN THOMAS
(Intrigued:) Wha, who is that?
DIABLO
Her name is Silica. Quite a number, eh? (Nodding-) You like? Huh? Yeah? (Coolly smiling:) Get him, baby.
MUSIC UP
SILICA
(Sings:) Oooooooh... Aaaaaaah.
PATCH
Bark!
(The beat is sedated & bumpin’)
JOHN THOMAS
(Drops to ground-) Aaaaaaagh! The sonic waves, too powerful! Aaaagggh! What's happening?
(JOHN THOMAS moves erratically, yet never quite to seizure.)
MUSIC POTS DOWN TO 20%
DIABLO
I should just put you out of your misery, but you're polite to me, Old Timer, and that's tops with me... you just don't find people who express common courtesy anymore... So I'll indulge you, Old Man. If you must know, Silica’s gonna make me The Empress Of The Universe! She’s my greatest creation. Behold! A Discobot! What you're hearing right now is something they once called disco! Once upon a time, people actually called this music, and some even liked it! I only “dig” it and think it’s “far out” cuz I've got special headphones that filter the sound with- (The volcano rumbles-) by the way, because of Silica's highly-unnatural origins, I’m learning the hard way that she kinda-affects the surrounding space-time continuum paradoxically on a quantum level -- I'm callin' it the Discobot-effect. I’ll figure all that out later ... (Goes into an obviously rehearsed farewell:) But, I really want to thank you, John Thomas, you're quite the charmer, however, I must bid you farewell. (Laughs unexpectedly, feeling the burn of sudden joy from actualization of fantasy-) This is more fun than I ever thought it would be! (Orgasmic:) Tell me, can you feel the beat?
(PATCH begins howling from his prone position on his back, protesting the manipulation caused by the beat of the music.)
SILICA
(Sings:) Aaaaaaaaaaaah. Ooooooh... Aaaaaaaaaaaah.
JOHN THOMAS
(Collapsing, hands over ears, cigarette holder dangling, pocket watch out of pocket, his hair a mess, monocle jerking about, cane on floor-) Diablo! You can't!
DIABLO
Oh yes, I can. (Kisses SILICA'S hand-) And I will!
JOHN THOMAS
Stop it!
DIABLO
You're powerless. And if stopping you is this easy, an unsuspecting Central Command will be probably be willing to negotiate anything to save their precious, little moon from becoming a cosmic discotheque.
JOHN THOMAS
No! I must... stop you!
(The discobot's music begins to disrupt the fabric of the universe exponentially, affecting a dramatic change, leaving the structural integrity of the Isle of Dread in question.)
CUT TO: INT. Entrance of volcano, rumblings, team notices
CUT TO: Falling volcanic rock that narrowly misses hitting DIABLO
DIABLO
(Looks at rock, startled, snaps fingers and SILICA immediately stops singing. Silence, pause.) As much fun as this is, Old Chap, I'm afraid we're out of time. I'm afraid I have an orb to catch. Gotta go! I gotta destroy Central Command, you know. Come on, Dearie, we got an even bigger-fish to fry.
(The portal closes and the ORB OF DOOM levitates off the volcano.)
JOHN THOMAS
She’s got the ultimate weapon, Patch. We've got to... stop her.
(Loses consciousness.)
PATCH
Bark!
(Licks JOHN THOMAS' dirtied face.)
FTB