Scene 1.06 - Quarantine
EST: EXT. Subspaceship Archimedes and another Archimedes docked together, aft-to-aft. Note: Continuity demands this shot.
VERNE V.O.
Captain's Personal Log, I-D key, Bova One. While performing quantum neurosurgery on patient Azalea, an accidental breach of quantum protocol has apparently replicated The Eliza, its crew and its cargo at least fifteen billion times across space. In the thousands of uses of room technology I've applied since my initial use of the red room, I have never created a paradox or replicated something I didn’t want to exist, but apparently, there is a first time for everything. As the only crew member whose existence is from childbirth and not as a result of quantum cloning, and also as the only one who did not grow up seeing a billion copies of myself in everyday society, I still find the notion of seeing a replication quite disjarring, even when creating clones to assist me in the white room or during surgery, or even back at the Academy when I beat the Kobe-Bryant Magoo, the unbeatable scenario where a cadet's ship is hopelessly nearsighted and one is given less than a second to hit the center of a theoretical "wormhole" three parsecs away... In this case, I feel equally myopic, but instead of clones helping me to cheat the problem, they are the problem itself. I feel openess and compassion for the replicants and hope to offer them a solution to cope with their sudden manifestation. Mr. Clarke, Dr. Wells and I have agreed to meet the lead representatives of the replicated collective in the briefing room of my subspaceship, The Archimedes. The replicants seem to be identical to us in every way. We hope negotiations will be productive.
CUT TO:MS: INT. Archimedes
(Nobody is nice to anybody and all are in the middle of a heated argument.)
VERNE
(He holds his hands aloft, like he's heard enough shouting and only his crew seems to care:) Gentlemen, just listen to my proposal. I don't want to undo any of this.
VERNE 1
Your proposals are neither novel nor do they concern us. We're here; deal with it.
CLARKE
Sirs, I must point out that idle bickering will get us nowhere, and with every passing moment, experience alters our core perceptions, and we become less and less identical. Right now millions of summit talks across this parsec of space, much like our own, are also concluding, and are also breaking down. Let's not be a poor example; let's be civil. Simply, we ask: What is it that you require from us?
CLARKE 1
Agreement. One, court-martial proceedings temporarily suspended. Two, adherence to the Bradbury Prohibition.
VERNE
Agreed on both counts. Please, hear me out.
VERNE 1
You're lucky we haven't called for a field execution. You knew you were breaking protocol. No captain in his right mind-
(A sudden outburst by all is immediately silenced by an unanticipated move -- VERNE stands. Stands to leave his own ship. His men markedly react and then nervously eye the door and the other men at the table. The other crew is collectively speechless and both CLARKE 1 and WELLS 1, in unison, look directly at VERNE 1, who is transfixed by VERNE, hanging on his every spoken syllable. No one really makes a move, except VERNE, who begins a grand pace about the room while delivering his melodramatic monologue.)
VERNE
See that? Leaving my own ship? None of you expected it. Spontaneity, not serendipity. It’s natural. No time alterations here. Somebody reset the switch, and it wasn’t me. Somebody else used a room to attempt to alter time, and it wasn't me. And somebody else covered up some phantom green room mess and locked it in a cosmic closet somewhere, and that wasn’t me either. It seems that we're back to some kind of real space, and there’s some other poor sap who wished he hadn’t pushed the button, beacuse that poor sap’s stuck in The Phantom World because that fool cloned his way through all the mandatory Academy training films and that poor, misguided captain tried to mess with time somehow. (He taps the table, leaning over his chair.) We're all of one mind here. Let’s not do his mistake. I am the Q-P expert. We cannot go into a quantum field to alter time, even if you’re in a place where time is meaningless. You can't prevent what called you to action. If you try to dodge the bullet by not pulling the trigger, it will bite you before you take the gun from it's holster. You can't undo it, you just fix it. You can’t stop a bullet once it’s been fired, you can only get out of its path or take the hit. You can only respond in kind. Nothing else works. Capiche? (They all nod, regardless.) So far I’m counting two conundrums, let's not make it three. Others have slipped away forever with as little as five.
VERNE 1
Well said, Verne Zero. (Pause. He breaks out a phatty.) It's true. (He sounds innocent.) Somehow, one of those ships out there has already broken the Bradbury Prohibition with a green room alteration on the time stream. That means full quarantine from all travel and no room use. All of us. Until an extention of the green room is constructed, we’ll never see past the paradox. And if we haven’t created an additional paradox, we really don’t want to make an alteration to the green room if we don’t have to. (Lights the joint.) Time will tell.
VERNE
Agreed. For all intents and purposes, altering time is impossible. Let’s not go there. Leave that turf to The Almighty. I'll say my piece, and that's it.
VERNE 1
(Passes joint to VERNE. It’s easy to share with yourself.) Very well.
VERNE
(Hits it. Pause.) What's done is done. It's really how you look at it. (Hits again.) I choose optimism. Either the mind is half-sane, or half-crazy-
(There is immediate commotion and discord, almost stepping on VERNE'S line. All reply at once.)
WIPE TO:
MS: INT. Bridge, Aboard The Eliza
SIMAK
(Smoking his pipe while seated in the captain's chair:) Easy as she goes, Mr. Heinlein, stay on top of it.
(Someone bumps the tripod.)
SOUND: Low rumblings throughout the ship.
HEINLEIN
Yessir. The helm is... sluggish.
SIMAK
Aye. That's the time-space distortion from that little blue moon over there. Now how could a little satellite like that cause such an uproar? (Over next line, he hitchhiker-thumbs behind his shoulder, then points to Tellusia with the same hand.) Mr. Heinlein, ease us onto the back side of the planet, out of direct, physical contact with that spooky moon.
HEINLEIN
Aye-aye sir. I can’t help but notice that all the other ships are giving Tellusia a wide berth like we are. I guess nobody likes the looks of it.
ASIMOV
Mr. Simak, The Archimedes is filly dicked. The kiptin shid be fiss to fiss vithim by now.
SIMAK
Aye, and let's hope they're not wishin' they took their blasters now.
HEINLEIN
Sir, the ships, they've all stopped firing at each-other. They are moving in concert!
SIMAK
Blue room. Ship, red-alert. (Taps magic-button and the room briefly turns blue. He also taps the red-alert button. The red light lights and the yellow light goes off.) Tactical?
HEINLEIN
Blue-room controls not responding to my commands, sir. We've been running it on fumes, it's probably all gone now. Look, sir! They are moving in attack formation.
CUT TO: A multitude of ships a la Star Trek: "The Tholian Web" on viewscreen
SIMAK
Do it all manually and forget room technology. This takes precision, anyway -- like the old days. Evasive maneuvers, Mr. Heinlein. Mr. Asimov, open a channel. (Spacey button pushing squelchy sound.) Ahoy, there! This is Chief Engineer Simak of The United States Warship Eliza. Stand down, lads, we're all the same person here. Have patience, lads. We’ll get around to reassimilatin’ ya in good time.
(An identical image of the ship is seen on the viewscreen. There are reactions from the original bridge.)
SIMAK 1
Aye, hello there; now doncha think you outta follow us and find out what this is all about now?
SIMAK
Mr. Heinlein, ready tachyon torpedo. Mr. Asimov, fire laser cannon at will.
BOTH
Aye, sir.
SIMAK 1
Oh, it's a fight you want, now, is it?
SIMAK
Until you're willing to discuss your method of reassimilation, laddie, there's no more to discuss.
(With the stem of his pipe, he signals a cut-throat gesture to ASIMOV. The screen switches to a view of the web, near completion.)
SIMAK (Cont'd)
Mr. Asimov, slow to silent running and prepare for subspace immersion. Aye, that will keep the little buggers off our tail. Mr. Heinlein, damage report.
HEINLEIN
Shields over ninety-nine percent intact, sir. They keep targeting the most heavily-armored section of the ship. Just a little crack, in a secondary bulkhead. I don't get it. It’s like they’re not even meaning to hurt us.
ASIMOV
A vittle crack is still a vittle crack. Nyet to be tickin' lightly.
HEINLEIN
There it goes again, glancing off. And their pattern. It's like they’re doing it for show. So far, only cosmetic damage. Funny sir. It's like they're scoring the hull for someth -- it doesn't make sense, sir -- there's nothing in there!
CUT TO: Viewscreeen of ships making a Tholian Web. Relax: It’s a 'Trekker' thing...
SIMAK
(Keenly curious:) What specific area of the ship are they targeting, Mr. Heinlein?
HEINLEIN
Sixteen-foxtrot -- the old-school forward -- they can’t get to our weapon systems or life support systems from there. It’s not even close to the pods-
SIMAK
I am quite aware of the location of the sixteen-foxtrot section, Mr. Heinlein. I’ve been known to put my feet up and catch a few winks there on the slow days, which nowadays are too few and far between to conduct a proper eyelid inspection. (Studies attack analysis, can't figure it, either.) Aye, I’m quite aware there’s nothing in there.
ASIMOV
Spear bilkhids, ibsolit riplikitahs and ott-shipt earreeys. Zey kin’t slay ze driggon in thees vay!
LS: EXT. Eliza getting pounded. Take your time showing-it-off. Eliza, does, in fact, look like a dragon. NOTE: Unnoticed by the crew, all the other ships about them have severe damage on their respective locations of sixteen-foxtrot. All but one.
HEINLEIN
We’ve been hit a multitude of times; love taps, if anything. Why, sir?
SIMAK
Perhaps they're not as saavy as we are, laddie. (He taps his magic button three times.) Ensure silent running, Mr. Asimov. Mr. Heinlein, enter three secret numbers between one and ten as our bridge code. They'll never get to the ship if we lock them out. Now you, Mr. Asimov. To the computer, it won't matter if they’re just like us or not. We're the ones in control. And they'll surely never find us after we go into silent running.
ASIMOV
Aye sear, ze code iss licked-in. Veeve finnilly riched silent-running, sear.
SIMAK
(He stands.) Hah! Now, they'll be lucky if they can even carve their initials on the hull. Without that code, they'll never find us. We'll be zipping-about in phased space and they'll always be looking at where we were. (He grins.) I bet they're cursing enough to make an old sailor blush, Mr. Heinlein. If they try to follow us, they’ll have to do it single file. Aye, just like Thermopylae. Mr. Heinlein, you have my permission to blast the first thing that comes though that cosmic window. It may be a one in a million chance, but with fifteen billion of 'em, one of ‘em is bound to stumble across our trajectory, but without our code as well, they'll be sitting ducks and ripe for a kick in the knickers. Computer, give me a rough estimate of the chances of another ship like The Eliza stumbling on our quantum-trajectory and rightly guessing our super-secret bridge code...
FEMALE COMPUTER
The odds are more than sixty-nine quadtrillion to one, sir.
SIMAK
Aye, close enough. Mr. Heinlein, low maneuvers; even if we're targeted. We can't leave too long of a trail, now...
HEINLEIN
Yessir. (Pause. Alarmed:) Sir, energy patterns still hitting the bottom of the hull. A big one coming-up. A torpedo!
SIMAK
Aye, they're trace-targeting. It's the only shot they’ll get off in time, and she'll get through the hull, but not the secondary shielding. They wohna be able to hit us after that, not without our super-secret code they won't. Aye, brace for impact, laddies!
(The ship rocks. Everyone is thrown from chair. SIMAK taps the magic button. A blueprint of the ship appears on the forward viewscreen.)
SIMAK (Cont’d)
Computer, damage report.
FEMALE COMPUTER
Damage report. Damage from tachyon torpedo and repeated laser-fire from enemy ships: Section sixteen four foxtrot. Destroyed. Hull breach contained to section. No other damage detected. Life support systems functioning normally and-
(FEMALE COMPUTER immediately stops talking the second SIMAK speaks.)
SIMAK
(He looks at the highlight on the ship's blueprint.) Hah! Secondary food-replicators and the septaquin and trinary logic arrays! Snacks and stunts! Well, we won't be ordering any pizza or performing any o’ those fancy-schmancy high-energy maneuvers anytime soon, but considering we just out-smarted fifteen billion other ships with men almost as smart as we, I say we've done quite well.
HEINLEIN
They haven't tried to follow us, sir.
ASIMOV
In silent running... veer alt-ring rillative dim moonshine all pissition ivory sex pint nein sickens.
SIMAK
Aye, tighten-up that margin. I know this ship; she can do better than that.
ASIMOV
Aye, aye, sear.
HEINLEIN
Sir, we're still ninety-nine percent effective and are unable to be fired upon. Should we try to communicate? Warn the captain?
SIMAK
No, laddie. Keep coasting silent. We've bought ourselves some time. Without our super-secret code, they can't find us. As far as the captain, well, we won't be able to rescue him for a while now. But Captain Verne, aye, he's a crafty one. I'm sure he's got a few tricks up his sleeve that even a clone doesn't know. He's probably on top of things as much as we are.
CUT TO:
MS: INT. Subspacecraft Archimedes
WELLS 1
(All are seated, stoned. Thinks the chips offered are stale:) I say we should kill him now while the decision is up to us.
VERNE
We're humans. Fully trained. Genetically diverse.
CLARKE 1
If you're proposing we join the colony of Halceron, you forget, protocol quarantines us from leaving the Q-S-I-2 and prohibits any interaction with-
VERNE
No, I'm proposing we colonize New Trinity.
(The visiting men in the room react.)
VERNE 1
(Calming them, looks to others of his crew, nods, like ‘good idea’ -- others agree:) Now why didn’t I think of that?
VERNE
Hey, it’s my neck that’s on the line.
CLARKE
Gentlemen. (Blazes a phatty, starts to camp, but gets nudged by VERNE, who relieves him of the quickly-burning spleef once he seems to take a breath and not a toke.) Captain Verne Zero has a point. Washington's plan was to slowly colonize the planet over the next few hundred years, hoping to eventually have a stable populace of seventy billion. (Toke.) Instead, at it's very doorstep are billions of healthy, educated, skilled workers and scientists trained in habitat compatibility, colony construction and national defense. (Nudge.) A conservative ratio leaves four concubines for every three men. (Tokes, passes.) The fact that any given ninth of them share identical D-N-A is irrelevant, and only time will tell if there is sufficient genetic stock to create the diversity needed for evolutionary purposes, if procreation among phantasms is even possible. Komodo dragons and seahorses have faced greater challenges, and they have overcome. Surely even phantasms also have a genetic disposition toward diversification. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations. Also, once the paradox is removed and the quarantine is lifted, there is the possibility that others from Earth and elsewhere may wish to join this modern, rapidly-colonized planet to utilize its abundant resources and perhaps later, attempt to add to our gene pool. Eventually, once we all are acting in harmony toward a mutual goal, we could construct a grey room and a thorough, mass-reassimilation could take place, leaving an infrastructure that present Earth colonists only dream of inheriting.
(The quarter-smoked hog-leg returns to CLARKE from WELLS 1. That’ll get him to zip it. WELLS 1 looks to VERNE.)
WELLS 1
(We witness the red-neck part of WELLS that is overtly honest about things unsaid, without him being aware of it. It’s the rural trait that excluded him from the Necronomica deal that we learn of later:) About that ratio: We’ve examined your procedure from your ship’s records, Julie. You were right to find a dominant cell to enhance pattern memory. (Receives, tokes, passes. There must be a few going around...) I barely even remember it, or why it worked in such a way- It is just like that horrible Piper case we- (Receives. Tokes. As if looking at VERNE in bronze; an effigy of a legend, to himself, slow:) So arcane! It blows out of the water my worst grey-room clean-up job -- it was horrible; I remember; I try to forget it -- I found it referenced under quantum applications, not even under medicine. (Nudge.) I wonder how you saw that one.
VERNE 1
(Knowing full well how he saw that one, stares at VERNE:) Anyhoo, we’re not going anywhere until Washington takes a look at our situation, and with the war and all, our problems are gonna be at the bottom of their list.
VERNE
Have you established any outside commu-
VERNE 1
Have you?
(An awkward pause. WELLS hits the joint.)
WELLS
Look on the bright side, gentlemen. At least we have a healthy cargo of young women along with us. And we’re floating over a paradise just itching to be colonized. It could be worse: This could have happened in a battle-zone, and I'd be pretty busy by now.
VERNE 1
You know, I like the idea, Verne Zero. I really do. For now, (A light sigh, subtle:) this moment, I'm the one calling the shots out there. We’ll get it started. If we all land first, build a smoke-house, then wake the women in Shangri-La, it won’t be as messy or traumatic for them. Plus, we'll know on-the-ground how to tackle the paradox and maybe we won't have to awaken the women after all. (Hits joint.) Who knows? This all might ride itself out in a few hours. I’ll set up the landing orders and get this ball rolling. You and your ship will stay put until we can tow you to a safe perimeter on the surface. Nobody’s gonna touch you. (Nudge. Passes joint.) Eventually, other people will be making the rules and our talks here may all become meaningless. However, while I’m in command, you have our protection, which accounts for much. For now, Verne Zero, are you willing to acede your command and submit to the will of the New Trinity Alliance, meaning me?
VERNE
With contingencies, yes. A cooperative effort will benefit the collective. New Trinity Alliance. That's catchy. Alliance against what?
WELLS 1
(Hits joint.) The little dictators who don't like playing second-fiddle. The part that not only wants to survive, but also wants to take over. We're the good guys, we take time to consider the consequences of our actions. The evil from us doesn't. They'll use fodder and learn in a day what clinical trials teach over decades. You'd be amazed how quickly like-minded men can gather together and work toward a mutual, evil end. They're the bad guys in us and they're not stupid. They're very tough and very organized.
CLARKE
(Verbal nudge. It works:) Have you seen other replicants, Doctor?
VERNE 1
(Shoots a hot look to WELLS 1, plays it off cooly:) Of course he hasn't, Clarke. It's been less than an hour since the accident. However, Doc’s sentiments may ring true, if you ARE the originals as you claim, there may be radical factions of us out there dying to put a blaster to you, regardless of what The Lovecraftian Doctrine says about it. (Kinda creepy how he said that.) Will you abide by the laws and decisions of the governing protocol, whatever that may be?
VERNE
As long as they don't countermand the laws of the United States of America. It’s gotta be an official American colony.
VERNE 1
There's no doubt that it's an American colony. We're all Americans here.
WELLS
Yes, but who votes party lines? Not everyone's going to be as friendly about this. They may have the same skills and weaponry we do, but they also have the same human flaws. They’re us.
VERNE
True, but I have the only red room that can still work.
CLARKE 1
So you say.
WELLS
Julie, could a red room be manufactured that could-
VERNE
No. Their room technology will never work. You all are clones from clones created from a very specific quantum equation -- If the others have children, and that’s a big if, because most paradoxes either ride themselves out in a wink of an eye or land you up in the Phantom World, and that's a place no one knows anything about. If these replicants can procreate, perhaps their children may be able to visit the rooms someday -- it sure isn't a solution to the breeding problem. (The group deflates a little.) To date, no one’s ever been able to successfully impregnate a phantasm, no matter what the tabloids say. Also, all your cloning technology is no longer an option while in a paradox, so we’ll have to build hospitals and equipment for organ transplants and blood transfusions -- vaccinations, psychiatry. Time for us to to bone up on some of that old-school medicine, Doc. They're as fragile as we are, and just as sick in the head.
(WELLS, a psychiatrist, surgeon and general practitioner, displays his agreement by passing the phat roach, counter to rotation, to VERNE, which not only diverts VERNE from talking to smoking, but also makes him last man standing in rotation, yet the only man who remains seated in the room when he dismisses everyone.)
WELLS 1
Yes. It could work. You would have to use your room technologies how we tell you to.
VERNE
I trust the collective judgement of present company. We’re done here.
VERNE 1
It’s settled.
(All but VERNE stand. The replicants move to the door.)
CUT TO:MS: INT. Bridge, aboard The Eliza
(The Eliza is moving rapidly through a cross-dimensional, subspace tunnel. Another Eliza ship gives chase.)
ASIMOV
Mr. Simak! A ship, coming through our encrypted window!
SIMAK
Mr. Asimov, fire at will. Mr. Heinlein, ready torpedo...
ASIMOV
Firing laser cannon... Sir! No iffict!
SIMAK
Fire torpedo...
HEINLEIN
Firing aft torpedo.
ASIMOV
Sear! Zair hilling us!
SIMAK
Easy does it. Let 'em sweat, laddie. That torpedo should make them think twice about tangling with this beehive...
HEINLEIN
Tachyon torpedo, direct hit! (Pause.) Sir, no effect! It shattered against its hull!
SIMAK
Aye, they've found our bridge frequency. (Aside, squinting:) Now how in Hades did that little bugger guess our super-secret code?
HEINLEIN
Sir, they're drilling into our thermal shields. I’m unable to sever life-support on the other decks.
SIMAK
Aye, they're trying to board us. Mr. Asimov, respond to hailing beacon.
ASIMOV
Risspindeeng sear. Zey’ve icknillidged, sear.
SIMAK
Onscreen.
SIMAK 1
Now, laddie, don't you think it's best to let us come aboard and talk this all out?
SIMAK
(He pats his blaster, resting on driver's-side arm of the chair, while hitting his pipe with other hand.) Aye, come on up. You know the way to the bridge. We'll be here, waiting for you.
(He does a cut-throat gesture with the stem of his pipe.)
ASIMOV
Trinzmission link sivverd, sir.
SIMAK
Aye, they've got us. How did they out-smart us, now? A little crafty for a clone now, wouldn't you say?
HEINLEIN
Sir, they're boarding the ship! They'll be on the bridge any moment!
SIMAK
Aye, there's still another lil' trick I got that they cannot undo, no matter what codes they know. The green room can’t even help them undo this... Computer, activate self-destruct sequence.
FEMALE COMPUTER
(An extreme, tin-can sounding voice:) Self-destruct sequence activated.
SIMAK
Computer, self-destruct. Simak, zero zero zero one.
FEMALE COMPUTER
Confirmed.
HEINLEIN
Computer, self-destruct. Heinlein, zero zero zero two.
FEMALE COMPUTER
Confirmed.
ASIMOV
Kimpitta, siff-diss-tricked. Azzimoff, zear-o zear-o zear-o tree.
FEMALE COMPUTER
Confirmed. Self-destruct sequence activated. Blackstar coil circuits activated. Godspeed gentlemen, may you find more hope, guidance and acceptance in the after-life. Dark-matter implosion will commence in seven, six, five, four, three, two, one...
(The men brace for a quantum-implosion. Nothing happens.)
SIMAK
(A maddening pause. Finally:) Computer! Self-destruct!
FEMALE COMPUTER
A high-yeild energy transfer from the quantum generators to the black-star conductor is required to trip the implosion relay-
SIMAK
Do it, already!
FEMALE COMPUTER
Unable to transfer energy from the room generators to the dark-matter coil due to damage to the trinary logic array.
MS: SIMAK
DOLLY IN, ZOOM OUT
(As stated before, please, please, please use this effect very, very, very sparingly. Like the way I use the adjective "very" very, very, very sparingly. "Vary your use of very" was a tip I picked up in journalism school, and in broadcasting school I also heard terms like "That's got more wipes than a waterbed commercial" and "What motivated that effect?" All of these statements call for what I believe is the cornerstone of wisdom: The Art Of Being Prudent. [Although it's not exactly being demonstrated here.] My point is, the mark of an amateur is a flagrant use of exceptions to rules just to use them, or by using every wipe combination in the switcher's bank within two minutes of video, or by using every possible font and feature the CG is capable of producing within one 30-minute show. It's a fine line, I know... I'm not saying don't create novel oblique shots or invent an interesting way to change our point of view, I'm only saying that when you hit a note that's an octave above your normal range, you've got to be sure to throw a few bass notes in there for meaningful comparison, and a few normal ones so we can properly digest what we just got force-fed. In a song, if every single damn note is sung with emphasis, the outcome is a monstrosity: A grey mish-mash of lukewarm pudding that isn't palatable to any tongue that truly savors flavor. What many amatuer filmmakers call "eye-candy" is really... well, let's just say there's another word professional filmmakers use to describe it. I rant specifically about the DOLLY ZOOM effect because it, by far, has been the most overused film effect, but there are many, many others worthy of comment. However, this is a novel, not a filmmaker's bible, so here, Gentle Reader, is my stance on DOLLY ZOOM in a nutshell: What was landmark in films like Vertigo and Jaws is now as overused and hackneyed as that crappy "Reality-MTV-Cam" that was over-popularized in the 1980s and has forever been a staple for lazy amatuers to justify the budgeting decision to forego aquiring a tripod. Please, just do the effect and be done with it. In theatre, a focused followspot operator or a sensible sound technician can tell you that success is when the audience doesn't even notice your contribution to the work -- if you call attention to yourself or the effect, you wreck it. The best shots are when it seems like live theatre; when all movement is justified by the actor's dialogue or the action. Truly, I only put it in because it's Star Trek Voyager I am parodying here, and not only do I consider the crew of that show to be among the professionals, I also believe they probably used a tripod most of the time...)
CU: SIMAK
(SIMAK pauses, stands, realizing that the minor damage wasn't so minor after all.)
SIMAK
The ship cannot override the safety check without the array. Aye, they’ve figured out that one thoroughly. Squad, lock and load. Set your blasters on a random, three-number frequency. Anything comes through that door, you have permission to fire. Aim between the eyes and don't make me have to tell you twice. Shoot to kill, laddies. Even if it looks like you; kill it, laddies, kill it.
(The turbolift door opens aft. SIMAK 1 leans on doorway, relaxed. ASIMOV 1 and HEINLEIN 1 enter and go to aft panels, completely unconcerned of the fact that the original crew’s blasters are leveled and pointed at them.)
SIMAK 1
Now laddie, don't you think it's time we had a talk?
SIMAK
Detail, fire!
(Nothing happens. The men try firing their blasters again. Nothing.)
HEINLEIN
Sir, there must be an energy dampening field on my frequency!
SIMAK
Aye. Reset frequencies, gentlemen, and fire when ready.
(They do this. Nothing happens.)
ASIMOV 1
(Momentarily glancing up toward them while typing commands at an impressive speed across the terminal at his fingertips:) Your vippins are yissliss.
HEINLEIN 1
Just hear us out. We've planned this for some time-
SIMAK
Aye. You've got our lasers, but no energy field can stop good 'ol hand-to-hand! Men, fix bayonets! Mind the lassie, now.
(The two huddle behind the front panel and extend their pistols with long, bladed staffs found secretly-secured under the panel. It’s simply ludicrous. Reference the blades used-during the Pon-Farr when Spock got his seven-year-itch in Star Trek: "Amok Time".)
CUT TO:
MS: INT. Archimedes, cockpit/aft.
(VERNE 1 transmits to VERNE while towing him. VERNE is pilot, CLARKE is co-pilot, WELLS rides “bitch” a few feet back. [Still asking: Anyone got another word for it?] On the other ship, WELLS 1 is shown below-deck from a keyed box on the viewscreen. WELLS 1 is tending to something botanical.)
WELLS 1
You're probably going to be the most infamous man on the planet. I’m sure there’s a bounty out for you already. The guy who'll be voted top dog will be the one promising he'll find you, the one promising to assimilate you, even if it is against nature.
VERNE
A lynch-mob seldom takes natural law under consideration. Certainly never martyrdom.
VERNE 1
Are you willing to wait and eventually stand trial in a civilian court or shall we hold a court-martial hearing now?
CLARKE 1
There's certainly a quorum of officers present.
VERNE 1
Yeah, we can try him right now, I'll be his defense.
WELLS 1
Maybe we should go old-school: Make him walk the plank.
CLARKE 1
It would be logical to make me the prosecutor in the case.
WELLS 1
I’ll be an expert witness.
VERNE 1
(Blasting oncoming ships out of their path:) You know, they might be screaming for our heads because we let you live.
VERNE
I'm glad you found me first.
VERNE 1
(Smoking a cigarette:) Sometimes you’re not judged for what you did, but for what you wanted to do. In my book, (points to VERNE specifically) YOU did it right.
CLARKE
What should we expect down there?
CLARKE 1
Chaos. Insanity. Disappointment. Surprise. Maybe if you're lucky, a little forgiveness and compassion. Inside, we're all really pulling for you. When you win, it means we all win.
WELLS 1
Time will reveal that we are more alike than you think. There’s never really a bad choice. If you’re alive, then at least part of your choice was good.
CLARKE 1
It's like waking from a nightmare to an even greater one -- then, after a few moments, the mind adapts, adjusts, evolves. The mind begins a new way of thinking about everything. Like being re-born. Starting with a clean slate. A dream come true.
WELLS 1
Or, perhaps, a challenge. I certainly don't take my existence for granted anymore, Herbert. I hope you have learned from this as well as I have.
WELLS
(Blazing a phatty:) This will forever be the most memorable day of my life.
CUT TO:
MS: INT. Bridge, Aboard The Eliza
SIMAK 1
Are you ready to listen, Clifford?
SIMAK
You will not take this ship, lad.
SIMAK 1
We don't want your ship. Believe me, we got our own ship and crew to worry about.
HEINLEIN 1
(He points to the viewscreen:) Look, your captain is landing on the planet. He's agreed to this.
SIMAK
Then where's his message telling me so, ah?
ASIMOV 1
He’s un-harmed. You'll see him in a few minnits. He kin till you in peerson.
SIMAK
(He takes off his shirt and takes a boxer's stance.) Not on your life, laddie. Aye, you might know where me weak spots are, but you surely underestimate me strengths. Put 'em up! Even if you're twice the fighter I think you’re not, this should be settled soon.
SIMAK 1
(He lights his pipe.) We’re not going to fight you, Cliff. Whatcha say you try some of this Crystal Ambrosia? We're only here to tow you in, so you can all blaze a wee one and give this ol' bird some much-needed rest. I even got a joke for you that I KNOW you haven’t heard yet...
SIMAK
You might be a handsome devil and a charmer to boot, but if you think you're going to even touch this ship's control field, you're gonna do it over me dead body and shy a few more parts now...
SIMAK 1
(He chuckles.) Aye, I've never heard that one before, lad. Just land where we ask and go with us to a little meeting room we got there. We got the answers. (Hands him a blunt which preoccupy the three men while ASIMOV 1 levels a blaster, set for taze, at the group, to diassuade any of them from violence.) Accept it. We've won. We're not hostile.
HEINLEIN 1
(Standing at coffin and reading an aft panel:) Sir, their Azalea is all but dead. Huh. Reads alive but everything's a flatline. Wow, no foreign bacteria or signs of decomp. But this neural matrix -- hacked-up pretty good with an odd... red-room procedure... kinda like Teekay- like our Captain’s, except this one’s depleted most of the field generator reserves.
SIMAK 1
(Pause, almost unbelieving of his hearing it:) A red room procedure? (He crosses and looks at the quantum-stained coffin on the bridge.) Aye. What’s the ship’s green room status, Mr. Heinlein?
HEINLEIN 1
Empty! Unfielded, sir. Record of a recent cross-terraforming, but it’s only near-matter, an echo from the red room.
SIMAK 1
No green room use?
HEINLEIN 1
No, sir! Red room use only on this one, the fuel reads that it's been quantum vaporized, tho...
SIMAK 1
Hmmm. (Tokes deep. Passes to SIMAK who accepts it and eyes the men very closely, regarding every word.) Aye. Tow it in; quietly. The others, awake or asleep?
HEINLEIN
Asleep. The remaining cargo is secure.
ASIMOV 1
(Smug:) Vill you villingly join us as ze kiptin has done, or do ve have to use ze kin-ditioning collars?
SIMAK
So you cracked my collar's code have you? What kind of cur are you now? And just what other codes do you know?
ASIMOV 1
Ve new egrit amint of sings you nivvir drimpt if sear. Vea ze stiff drums a mate if, indie leetle laughs are ruinded vith bitta slip.
SIMAK
Are we now? You're a wee bit wiser than an old oak, though you're the strappin' image of my young sapling apprentice here. If there's a thousand-yard stare in a man, you've got one of them million-mile stares, lad. (Puts on shirt.) Men, remove bayonets. (Flips it on AUTOPILOT. Still under red alert.) We will keep our blasters, gentlemen. And if we don't see our dear captain alive and well, as you promise, believe me, you'll be begging for us to use them.
SIMAK 1
You are a novel one, Clifford. Follow us.
SIMAK
Lieutenant Heinlein, be a good lad and get the other blasters. Captain Verne may want his and I'm sure Mr. Clarke can outsmart sim ol' energy-suppression frequency any day.
HEINLEIN
Yessir.
(The men exit aft.)
Sound: Musical segue and theme.
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