Scene 1.07 - The Cell
EST: EXT. Futuristic prison facility on planet New Trinity.
VERNE V.O.
Captain's Personal Log, I-D key, Bova One. After negotiations with a replicated crew created by a quantum accident, we initially agreed to land on New Trinity to assist in colonization of the planet, until a method of mass-assimilation could be devised. We went under the auspices of openess and mutual defense. However, the replicants have since shown another face, and have instead barricaded us inside a high-tech prison cell, built in a super-human fashion, and it is clearly apparent that our counterparts have now become our captors.
CUT TO:
INT. Cell
(We watch ASIMOV quickly run across the room and try to bash head-first through an invisible force-field across the upstage right diagonal doorway. BONG! The crew just watches, letting him do what he wants to do. After all, it’s HIS head, he can do with it whatever he wants, right? The door to the cell is diamond-shaped and wide. Reference the Krellian doors in Forbidden Planet, or the doors in the lithium-cracking station in Star Trek: "Where No Man Has Gone Before" or some other weird, alien-looking portal. BONG! The cell extends to a long hallway, but we don’t see that until later. The floor and walls are plasmic and psychedelic and displays auras around the different people in the room, like a mood ring. The ceiling is domed and transparent, revealing the night sky. There are a couple of geometric slabs about and most of the crew is lounging. BONG! CLARKE is playing with a pile of blasters on the floor. HEINLEIN is armed and on watch. VERNE is reclined and reading his favorite book. WELLS has his feet propped-up and his hands behind his head with his eyes closed. BONG! SIMAK has the guts of the room's only wall-panel stretched-out across the floor, still all connected together, and he inadvertently dims the lights a little while messing with it. Although he is able to almost make it all fit back into place, there's about seventeen extra cam pins, screws and other assorted items that he cannot replace, so he pockets them later in the scene. BONG! The panel looks like an oversized payphone keypad, and has wires, holograms, computer chips and other strange things connected to its backside. An identical keypad is seen in the hall, outside. ASIMOV crosses the room backwards, like a bull ready to charge the china shop.)
WELLS
Okay, Isaac, that’s enough.
ASIMOV
(Certain:) It's ging tee breek seer.
WELLS
The only thing that's gonna break is your skull. (He opens an eye, looks over to ASIMOV, who is backing up. ASIMOV’S shadow crosses the doctor briefly. Hearing his name, VERNE glances up and returns to reading.) Isaac, stop already. When Captain Verne said for us to put our heads to the problem, he didn’t mean literally. Isaac-
ASIMOV
(He rubs his head, and gets ready to run at it again.) I think I filt it give jist a little thit list timm.
VERNE
(Not looking up from a hard bound Treasure Island.) Ensign, you heard the good doctor, we don’t want you to crack your skull open. Stand-down.
ASIMOV
(Knocks on his head:) Bit Kiptin, ze skill is vunn if ze hurdest bins inza bodee!
VERNE
(Puts reading glasses up on his head, props up on elbow and holds his place in book with thumb and looks back at the doctor. More pleading like, “As a professional courtesy, can I have some help over here?” -- not inquisitive like, “Tell this neurosurgeon slash warship captain slash quantum physicist something about the makeup of the human skull that he doesn’t know already.” He looks pleadingly with a half-wincingly exasperated smirk over to WELLS:) Doc?
WELLS
(He opens one eye.) While he may be right about his skull being solid, Julie, I think he should quit while he’s ahead -- and still has one attached. (He opens the other eye, looks toward ASIMOV, but doesn't move.) I wager there’s something in that skull worth keeping. (He closes them again, dropping one arm to his chest.) At least I hope so.
VERNE
(He licks his middle and index finger and turns the page, reading glasses still propped atop his head.) No more banging your head against that force-field, Ensign, and that’s an order.
ASIMOV
Bit Kiptin, het-binging is whit Eye do beast!
VERNE
(He bookmarks the place in the book, folds glasses, sits up, puts glasses on end-table next to the reading lamp, reverently puts the book down on the futon, stands and goes over to ASIMOV. Gently:) Ensign, as a licensed doctor, may I take a look?
ASIMOV
(He looks to the wide entryway and remembers the force-field -- no exit there; nervously shifts in place, his eyes grandly dart around and his head darts about ever so slightly. Finally still, he braces himself.) A lick, sear?
CU: POV ASIMOV, seeing a half-smiling, intensely staring VERNE slowly closing in
VERNE
Yes. A close look. You’ve hit that wall repeatedly; I want to examine you, to see if you’re okay.
ASIMOV
(He swallows, then hesitantly:) Yes, sear.
CU: ASIMOV’S 3/4 profile
(Over the next line, VERNE gently cradles ASIMOV’S head with the right hand atop his head, leans in and speaks in a low voice into ASIMOV’S ear, lightly touching the bones on both sides of ASIMOV’S left ear with his left index finger, then finally between his eyes with his right index finger; denoting all the places referred.)
VERNE
(He is patient with ASIMOV, and purses his lips:) Last I checked, you are military issue, and I don’t want you damaging government property. So far it looks okay- (He gently and briefly strokes ASIMOV'S shaggy crew-cut against the grain with his right thumb:) nothing a regulation haircut wouldn't fix. Okay, you seem to be in good working order- (Almost lets him go, but pulls ASIMOV'S head toward him an inch, catching himself:) but Ensign- (Slow, deliberate:) in the future, if I find there’s one nick on your scalp forward of your coronal suture (thumb of right hand taps above ASIMOV’S left ear), I’ll slap your zygomatic arch (left index finger touches cheekbone) so far into your mastoid process (left index finger moves and touches low area, behind the left ear) that you will beg me for a lobotomy. (Right index finger taps center of forehead.) Is that understood?
ASIMOV
(Slowly nods “yes” with VERNE’S hand still cradling his head.) Understood, sir.
VERNE
Good, good.
(VERNE lets go, turns and begins to step away, and stops at ASIMOV’S subsequent exclamation.)
ASIMOV
Kiptin, Eye dew nut undies tanned!
VERNE
(Quickly breathing, about to blow. He slowly turns, smiles, attempting patience:) WHAT is it that you do not understand, Mr. Asimov?
ASIMOV
Vy zair iss a voll in ze fist pliss? Vy are zey kippin us prizneers? Ve're the same as thim! Vy lick is ip, inless they vahnt to interrogit us. (Gets wide-eyed:) Oh verse!
VERNE
I'm not sure why, Isaac. They've kept us isolated, that’s all we know. They're watching us; we've been locked in this cell for a day now-
CLARKE
Twenty-three hours, sixteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds, to be precise.
VERNE
(Doesn't look at CLARKE, keeps looking forward toward ASIMOV.) When my atomic clock's a nanosecond off, I can always count on you, Clarke. (Quickly turns toward CLARKE.) You wanna say something? Please do.
CLARKE
These blasters should work, Captain, and yet they do not. (After clicking back and forth some weird switch protruding from a hidden side panel that isn't the trigger and usually isn’t seen protruding from any panel, he snaps the switch into the pistol grip and slides the panel closed and throws the blaster on top of the pile of the other blasters.) There are other examples of other strange phenomena I've observed since we've been brought here.
SIMAK
Captain, about these replicants-
WELLS
My gut feeling is telling me they might not be replicants after all. I initially thought they were aspects of us, but they're not like us. Too organized. Too advanced. I've certainly never seen a phantasm ever out-smart the original. We can't trust anyone but ourselves.
CLARKE
Well-spoken, Doctor. I only observed the appearance of the multitude of warships due to sensory data fed to a computer. A computer that may have been compromised.
(HEINLEIN is about to interject, when:)
WELLS
(He is lying down with his feet up, cheating-in.) You know what they say about those who assume, Clarke. You know what it makes out of you and me.
CLARKE
And just what logical explanation do you have, Doctor, to explain the sudden appearance of our captors?
WELLS
(He sits up on sofa, hands holding edges of couch next to knees.) Confound it, Clarke! You and your logic! (Points a hand toward CLARKE.) Listen to your emotions, they will tell you we're not getting the whole story.
VERNE
Enough. We're obviously being monitored, and I don't have the time or patience to listen to the two of you and your endless bickering. All while the two of you refuse to admit that you’re in perfect agreement the whole, stinkin’ time...
CLARKE
I gather they have made use of our conditioning collars. Considering the skills and organization it took to build this technologically-advanced detention facility, comparatively, it would be relatively easy for them to alter the programming-
VERNE
If I were the one on the other side of this cell, it is precisely what I would do. Without Washington to intervene, it would be up to me to ensure order. Having power over us does not necessarily mean they are hostile, but they are in control. For now.
HEINLEIN
Yes, the collars, they demand total compliance. That may explain how they were able to build this complex so quickly. Skilled replicants could do many things we are unable to do, unwilling to do. They're quite stable at doing menial tasks. When I’m ordered to swab the deck, I just step in a grey room and call up a near-matter replication phantasm to do it for me. I simply reassimilate after grabbing forty winks. Easy.
VERNE
It would explain much, meaning we’re in a paradox comprised of near-matter and all we need to do is assmiliate everyone to get it back right. What doesn’t make sense is their unwillingness to be assimilated back into us. Most replicants have no problem with assimilation, in fact, all of them that I’ve ever created looked forward to it.
SIMAK
Aye, and that's only if it's replicants we're dealin' with. They're smoother than a baby's bottom and slicker than ice, Captain. I don't like-a the looks of 'em. It's like they know what I'm thinking already. Things I don't even know yet. It's odd, sir. I felt all strange when talking to my counterpart, that Simak One, he’s something else, sir. He looked at me like he was reading my mind. No phantasm can do that, sir!
VERNE
Telepathy? Then why use our collars?
CLARKE
I must point out we do not know if they are utilizing our collars. We have not felt any of the pangs of conditioning since we have been here. So far, they have been humane and hospitable captors. And being mere replicants who are able to do what they have done collectively is a shallow interpretation of the paradox at best. It is less like a simple Lovecraftian dismissal of near-matter phantasms and more likely another example from Silverberg’s Law of Parallels. Another crew from a parallel universe made a mis-calculation in a grey room and somehow brought themselves and their replicants with them while their captain was attempting to save Ms. Azalea’s life, and the open-scale parameters on the quantum-generator allowed a quantum window-of-opportunity for such a voyage to occur. All scientific analysis of everything I have encountered so far indicates that this world is indeed real and that matter conforms to physical laws. Er, most physical laws, and with deduction, we will know what they’re not. If I let go of a hammer held above the ground while standing on a planet with positive gravity, I do not need to see it fall to be certain that it has indeed, fallen. And likewise, I have deduced that we are in a very real world and that our counterparts are made of true matter. They’re not replicants as the captain and Mr. Heinlein postulate, rather, they are something else, as Mr. Simak has so aptly indicated. As far as these others having telepathy, it could be a possibility. There is much that is left to be explained, and many other, unmentioned factors not taken into account-
VERNE
Such as?
CLARKE
For one, the satellite Tellusia.
VERNE
(He shoots one of those suspicious out-of-the-corner-of-the-eye looks:) What about it?
TILT UP
ZOOM IN
(We see the swirling clouds of Tellusia, and around it, reflecting a faint soap-bubble reflection of New Trinity and its rings.)
REVERSE ANGLE
POV: Above the canopy, looking in at men, reflecting Tellusia and New Trinitan Rings
SIMAK
(Looking up at us, she's there!) Aye, she’s a spooky moon, that one.
CLARKE
Washington suspects the planet may hold evidence of alien life, and considering the odd occurences and readings our ship has noted, we cannot fully discount the possibility of an alien presence. Little in our probes has pierced through the shadowy veil of the satellite. Prior sensory readings show that the planet somehow mirrors the sensor’s data when it is pinged.
CU: Clarke
CLARKE (Cont'd)
There’s something odd about Tellusia, and going there may uncover-
VERNE
It seems remote, Mr. Clarke; and we’re not going there.
CLARKE
Sir, sitting in our very laps is a rare opportunity to answer questions that have been plaguing Earth since the dawn of reason.
VERNE
I said no.
CLARKE
The psuedo-reflective quantum properties of the planet alone warrant its investigation. With my background in Xenology, Paranormal Activity and Histronic Anomaly Archival, logically, I would be an ideal candida-
VERNE
(He starts to lose it:) Blast it, Clarke! You hear? I don’t care if we’re near or if you hold it dear, while we’re here, we steer-clear of that queer mirror, is that clear? I’ve made up my mind and that’s final. I’ve dealt with enough surprises today to give me a mondo headache “this big” -- more than enough to fill my quota of Twilight Zone episodes for the next stinkin' century. (Pause. He sees he’s stung CLARKE a little, then again, having his replicant theory shot-down like The Red Baron stung a little, too.) Clarke, about YOUR theory -- Let’s say I go along with it and play the devil's advocate later -- you think these others may be aliens. Aliens pretending to be replications of us. (Now, to the obvious question:) WHY?!?!?
WELLS
(First to argue with CLARKE, first to support his cause:) Maybe that's the only way they think we can accept them. Perhaps they think we would fear them, or exploit them. Look what we’ve done to our own specie, our own-
CLARKE
We don't know if they are aliens, or what their motives truly are. Only one thing is certain; the men of the other crew are not who they pretend to be.
VERNE
At least on that we’re all thinking along the same lines here. All of us know replicated versions of ourselves enough to know when we’re dealing with something else, and Smokey’s right, this surely is something else. Doctor Wells, you’re a shrink, you should know: Doesn’t a quantum-clone usually become more-disruptive and chaotic, instead of more calm and decisive?
WELLS
(Can you say cabin fever? Here’s proof that familiarity breeds contempt. They’re both doctors, VERNE should know better. The crew’s psychiatrist doesn’t like being called a shrink any more than VERNE likes to be called a Q-P doll:) Well, Doctor, this “shrink” sees no evidence of the Niven Psychosis. If they're clones or replicants, they would usually display a profound interest in the spontaneous and radical, usually ending in suicide, homicide or mass-assimilation. I haven't seen even one of them bat an eyelash that didn't look rehearsed. They're not crazy; in fact, they’re too sane. It’s like they’ve had an eon of decompression and are cool as cucumbers inside and out. It’s not natural to be as they -- like machines. Humans aren’t made to be that way.
HEINLEIN
(Still wounded as VERNE about having their theory called shallow. Makes up for it:) Captain, I know we’re pretty “far out” in space, but could it be the enemy? Perhaps the low breeds. They've brainwashed men before; maybe they've managed to work our collars and we're just thinking we're here and we’re really just dreaming everything around us. They’d try it, sir.
ASIMOV
(He rubs his temples:) Oh, mee heed iss switting!
SIMAK
(He rubs his chin, he has a holodermal, bionic, cyber-metallic, right, middle finger, seen clearly for what it is for the first time.) Aye, I wouldn't put anything past the enemy. The curs take prisoners when they want to play with something. Something to torture. Aye, it could be them.
CLARKE
In this case, it would be highly unlikely. It is far easier for the pure-bred to imitate a mongrel than for a mongrel to appear purely-bred. In addition to the enemy possessing inferior technology, they’re not known to play mind games; and our captors are certainly skilled at keeping us guessing. It also doesn’t take into account much other, strange phenomena.
HEINLEIN
Like the readings on The Eliza. You were right, Mr. Clarke. I wasn’t able to see it until we were in silent running, but you were right, sir. It was a ruse. We believed we saw fifteen billion ships because our white-room couldn't tell us otherwise. But the ship's subsequent readings confirmed your initial analysis. It was a trace-phantasmic overlay. It may have been from room technology. Specifically, the power signatures had engrams of green-room use.
VERNE
(Steps forward, unconsciously:) So they've had room technology all along. But this! Even with the red room, it's beyond what I could do in a year, much less a day.
CLARKE
For six replicants to each individually overcome the Niven Psychosis and construct this complex so quickly without room technology or the assistance of others (Eyebrow raise toward spooky moon -- Tellusians?) would be an incredible feat, indeed. The abilities we have seen demonstrated by our captors borders on the amazing, if not mystical. They, for some reason, require our active participation to play out a scenario-
ASIMOV
An echo. They mid an echo of thimsillves. Only vun real crew.
WELLS
What are you saying, Isaac? You're saying there is just one other ship? They somehow projected all those images of the other ships to fool us?
ASIMOV
Pissablee.
CLARKE
Yes, possibly -- they may have taken advantage of the timing of the quantum accident to imprison us while we were distracted; trying to find a rational explanation for the unexplainable appearance of other, replicant ships within what we now understand is an echo of a type three Zyxian Quantum Paradox coupled with a green-room power signature overlay. Our captors wanted us to believe they were there to protect us; giving us a reason to negotiate and yield our secure position aboard The Eliza. It literally put us in their hands for care and safekeeping.
(Money gained from any endeavor suggested from this passage will please be applied to the resurrection of my body once Trysexual Chromatic Robotic Pleasure Androgynoids are in full production at an affordable cost. Now who was it again that was calling my writing racist and sexist? ...Nevermind, perhaps I'll revisit this later...)
VERNE
And we fell for it. Now we're their prisoners. To avoid the threat of mob violence, we walked right into our cells. That old saying must be true: Any society that gives up a little liberty to gain a little security deserves neither and loses both...
SIMAK
And they haven't missed a beat. Aye, it seems that the devil's tempting us to step ahead of where we're looking.
WELLS
Just because they may not be like us, doesn't mean they're evil. Whether they're curs, aliens, or something just cooked-up in our own heads, my intuition tells me we all should play along until we know a little more about them.
HEINLEIN
They’re coming, sir.
(The other men holster their blasters from the pile. CLARKE'S blaster was the one thrown atop the pile. HEINLEIN already has his holstered and snapped. In addition to his blaster, HEINLEIN has a high-powered rifle to boot. He turns toward the grand, expanding archway and presents a stoic, somber look as he appraises the slowly-approaching men. He twists a knob on the rifle and it collapses into a small compass! He checks his bearings, pockets the compass, lights a cigarette and eyes the other crew, still some fifty feet down the hall. Echoes of their voices are now faintly being heard in the distance by HEINLEIN and the other captives.)
VERNE
Doc is right. There's much that we don’t know. Until we know for sure that our collars are not actively being utilized, I want all of you to keep your additional thoughts on this matter private. We’ll make up our own Pig Latin if we have to. So mum’s the word. Capiche?
(The other crew enters from a hall, off, laughing. They stand on the other side of the invisible cell door. They’re very casual and very stoned. It seems CLARKE 1 has been able to grow a week's worth of goat-tee in less than a day. Other crew members wear longer hair; at a length that would require more than a month of furlough and are also dressed in a contemporary, yet individually-casual manner -- and ill-dressed-for-the-occasion as they are, the other crew seems to be only visiting on a lark; as an afterthought -- perhaps a drunken suggestion from one among their inebriated company that the others chose to humor.)
VERNE 1
Good evening, gentlemen. Good to see you all are still alive and well.
(VERNE 1 crosses and passes VERNE an unlit joint that VERNE cannot pass-up through a doorway that VERNE cannot pass-through.)
VERNE
(He lights the joint.) I'm sure that comes as no surprise. Somehow, you've gotten an orange room to work. Our collars are still active. You've been listening.
CLARKE 1
Perhaps. (Passes a second, lit joint to CLARKE.) We must build trust. Please understand we have no intentions of harming you in any way, and you shall be free to go in a relatively-short amount of time.
ASIMOV
Thin vy lick iss awee inna sill?
(ASIMOV purposefully-bonks his head against the force-field again to provoke the other crew, they jump back, completely surprised and they look at each other, equally-amazed that they were all surprised at once. Be subtle about it. Don’t give away to the original crew the fact that they weren't being monitored until CLARKE’S monologue and the other crew did not see the previous actions by ASIMOV.)
VERNE
(He gestures with the butane lighter that lit his joint, lightly taps ASIMOV’S forehead with the lighter and then points the lighter downward:) Ensign, you bruise one more cell in your prosencephalic vesicle, (gesture to forehead) I’ll take this lighter (hold aloft) and make a fissure in your frontal squama (tap) so deep that you’ll beg me to pull it out from the other end. (He glances down and gestures. He looks back into ASIMOV’S eyes.) You got me?
ASIMOV
(Rubbing head, [From the tap, not the head-banging, go figure.] looks down and back to his gluteus maximus, then to VERNE.) Yiss, sear. Eye sink sew.
VERNE
(Hot. He points the lighter toward ASIMOV.) Know so: I’m talking about Neptune’s twin, your anus. Capiche?
ASIMOV
Ja. Neptune’s twin -- You're an ass. No mere hitting-on ze farce-field wit me heed. Con-cedar it tibby in ze pazzed. (Crosses away from VERNE to the other side of SIMAK, putting three men between VERNE and he.) Vahter unzer ze breej, sear.
SIMAK 1
(To ASIMOV:) Just go with the flow, laddie.
(SIMAK 1 passes a lit pipe to SIMAK.)
VERNE
There's much you haven't told us. (He hits the joint.) This complex, the buildings. Rome wasn't built in a day, yet what you've done here borders on the miraculous. Explain.
(He hits the joint, passes it back just short of the force-field. WELLS 1 reaches and retrieves it.)
WELLS 1
(Smug:) We've had a decided advantage.
VERNE
It doesn't seem to be the only advantage you have. Why are we being held prisoner? You promised protection, you gave us a prison cell.
HEINLEIN 1
You have protection, and you need it. We need you to be isolated from the rest of the planet. You wouldn't understand. It's much different -- now.
ASIMOV
(Approaches furtively, casually flicking a just-lit tobacco cigarette; sotto:) Baby, are you Holdin'? (He puts the cigarette to his lips, but a la Bill Clinton, doesn’t inhale, looks about, flicks ash from cigarette, but no ash falls off:) William Holden? Holden Caulfield?
(ASIMOV 1 gets it, smiles, pulls out a mondo Thai stick and blazes it in front of ASIMOV.)
VERNE
How long are we to be kept here?
WELLS 1
Not much longer, once you've seen the movies-
WELLS
Movies? (Crosses, finally interested. There's something he can knock.) What's this horseradish about movies?
(WELLS 1 passes a recently-lit blunt through the doorway. WELLS takes it.)
VERNE 1
We've prepared some entertainment for you. A few movies to help you pass the time. Seems some of us have a penchant for the performing arts, and want to share some thoughts. Very dramatic. You may find the experience to be quite enlightening.
WELLS
Eighty-six the skits, we don't have time for such nonsense!
(WELLS hits the blunt like an O-G.)
WELLS 1
Quite the opposite. You have all the time in the world to see our films. It may help you understand.
VERNE
Propaganda films? Mind-control? It smacks of the dog-days in history. We're old; you can't teach us new tricks, boys.
HEINLEIN 1
(Looks to the others, smiling.) Old? Boys? (Laughs.) Nothing of the sort.
(HEINLEIN 1 tosses a spliff to HEINLEIN. HEINLEIN lights it.)
SIMAK 1
And mind control? Hah, we leave those tactics to the leaders in Washington.
ASIMOV
(He blows smoke at ASIMOV 1, it just curls as if hitting a glass window. To ASIMOV 1:) Hey Humphrey! Humphrey Bogart, puff, puff pass...
CLARKE
What is it, then?
SIMAK 1
Let's just say it's a cultural exchange. (He hands his pipe over to SIMAK.) This is a new America, lads. You watch our movies, we watch you after you watch them.
HEINLEIN
Is this some sort of joke?
HEINLEIN 1
No joke, Rob. Watch the films. Be patient.
CLARKE
And if it is an exchange, precisely what do expect from us?
CLARKE 1
For you to be your normal, irrational, fool-hearty, unmannered, illogical and unpredictable selves.
(CLARKE raises an eyebrow, at a loss for words since being described as illogical. He looks to WELLS, who simply shrugs.)
VERNE
You have my ship, my crew, my cargo. (He hits the joint.) And some killer Crystal Ambrosia. (Snorts a whiff from the end of the joint:) With a hint of Angorian Blue-Tooth. (He sure knows his stash-) Now you want us to watch movies. The Universe has never seen such nonsense. Not since The Adams Incident, anyway. If we're not your prisoners, then why not let us go? (He passes the joint.) That is, unless your motives are subversive.
WELLS 1
Considering you’re the only man known to have ever escaped from a black-hole, Julie, I would have expected more optimism from you. (Reverently looks at him, amazed. We immediately see why: [The reason for the surprise visit.]) Come on in, Dearie.
(AZALEA 1 enters the hallway. Music up. Her hair has a little growth, and appears less pale. For fashion and general appeareance, reference: Star Trek: "The Empath". The other crew notes the reactions of the men.)
ALL CAPTIVES
(Ad libs:) What? Impossible! It's her! Fascinating... It worked! She’s alive!
AZALEA 1
Quite possible, gentlemen. You were right, Captain, my case was identical to your previous mishap, at least, identical in some crucial ways. I applaud your medical insight.
VERNE
(Still quite shocked, feeling surreal. As if by rote:) It is comforting to know that you have survived, Ms. Azalea.
CLARKE
Captain, since the Azalea aboard our ship is certainly beyond revival, we are undoubtedly looking at the replicant Azalea from their crew -- Azalea One. Note the subtle differences of her facial scar.
AZALEA 1
Observant, Mr. Clarke! The rest of you men are so typically superficial. Looking in the mirror has a different reality, but I am the same person who went to sleep back in Vegas, I know I am; (Sees the men across the threshold, notices that it is truly a confinement cell. Looks to her men:) Everything's okay, right? (Annoyed; to VERNE 1:) Oh, you, you promised... Oh, you!
(AZALEA 1 puts her head into her hands and starts to cry. Except VERNE 1, the men console and surround her.)
WELLS 1
(Holding AZALEA 1:) We are finished here. Good day, gentlemen. Enjoy the films.
(WELLS 1 and SIMAK 1 move AZALEA 1 away a few steps and have a private, huddled conversation with her in small, soothing and comforting tones until she is able to compose herself and exit with the men.)
VERNE
When will we see you again?
VERNE 1
In time. The women of our crew will be responsible for your well-being. We have other things to attend to.
HEINLEIN
And what has been done with our women?
HEINLEIN 1
They're not your women. They never were. One's ownership over another is forbidden here. You'll get to meet our girls, we've said so all along. Might help you know what to look for in yours. What you really like.
HEINLEIN
The last person I ever expected to misconstrue my meaning was you, Rob. You know what I'm talking about. Where are our women?
HEINLEIN 1
They're still asleep, but any concubine who is awakened is allowed complete access and freedom over every choice, and personal sovereignty in every domestic case.
WELLS
Not every domestic case. We're locked away; and except for a surprise visit from Weeping Beauty over there, these women of yours that you keep promising will visit us so far have been nothing but a rumor. How is that supposed to build trust?
CLARKE 1
We aren't concerned with your debate over the notion of free will. As always, you will be isolated and cared for.
VERNE 1
Present circumstances demand it. The Bradbury Prohibition is still in effect. No room technology, no travel - no additional paradox.
ASIMOV
(Hits his snipe, tasting the filter, his face sours. No foreign accent. A la Jack Nicholson or Christian Slater:) How about no camping? Hey Camper! (He flicks the lit, cigarette butt at ASIMOV 1, and it would have hit his face, but the butt bounces off the force-field and back into the cell. ASIMOV 1 is busy examining the roach in his hand and repeatedly takes puffs to be sure the flavor was really as good as he just thought it was, which only frustrates ASIMOV further.) Camper Van Beethoven, over here!
(ASIMOV 1 slowly looks up, smiles, waves, and effortlessly-extends his hand through the field.)
ECU: Tiny, smoldering roach from Thai stick
ASIMOV 1
(Drops the tiny roach that's mostly paper into ASIMOV'S open palm:) It's preety good stiff, bitta lie down when you heet it.
SIMAK 1
This cell will be your home for a little while, gentlemen. Better get used to it.
(SIMAK exits with AZALEA 1.)
ASIMOV 1
I invee you all. Witching mivies, itting and sleeping, no verk, visits from beautiful vimmin, vaht moor cudju vahnt?
HEINLEIN
Much. How about freedom? Paradise has no luster while looking at it through iron bars, Isaac One.
HEINLEIN 1
Your isolation is required. (He pauses; almost an aside to HEINLEIN, with no misunderstanding:) For now.
CLARKE
May I ask, what have we done to deserve incarceration? What is the basis of your reasoning? Are we not equally imbedded in the problem that causes our mutual quarantine, whatever it may truly be? Why choose captivity for us?
VERNE 1
Look at it as a break from your normally-stressful lives. As I recall, you all have been needing a vacation. In time, your boundaries will be expanded. Perhaps you may choose to settle here with us when you've learned more. One day, you may find that this is a paradise. At least, the women tell me they think it is, and that says much. Good day, gentlemen.
WELLS
Julie, I can't help but think there is more to this.
MS: Cell
VERNE
Undoubtedly. For now, we'll play along. (He hits the roach of his joint.) But if any of you see an opportunity, don't hesitate. There's a little man in the back of my head telling me to stay on guard. I don't like it. No, I don't like this at all.
SOMBER MUSIC CONTINUES THROUGH SEGUE
DISSOLVE TO:
MS: NT. Cell -- Night.
LS: Truck 45 degrees to right -- Same shot, later that night. Lights are dim, spotlights near the guards. Force-field still active, door-jamb glowing.
(AZALEA 1 enters without waking anyone and slips-by HEINLEIN 1 and HEINLEIN, not creeping, just confident of her timing. Like getting-past that crucial stage in a video game after learning the route many times the hard way. Both men are keeping watch on each side of the doorway, only trusting each other with a lit joint, yet thoroughly enjoying the company. She effortlessly gets past them when the joint gets dropped between the two and they both bend over to pick it up. They chuckle, HEINLEIN painfully realizing that the force field stops him from doing so and he bonks his head against an invisible wall and rubs it, absently. Now is a good time to mention that we never see HEINLEIN without a weapon. Not once. He'll drop a joint, but he will never drop his weapon.)
POV: AZALEA 1
(AZALEA 1 moves silently down a dark hall, intermittently-lit near doorways. Did I mention the girl is beautiful? This time, AZALEA 1 has free-flowing, Egyptian-ish makeup and dress, and has tightly-braided and beaded hair that falls past her waist, quite different from her former, shaved-head self. The shock of white hair that lays an oblique ring about her head has a distinctive design when braided. At the ends of her braids, the normal curl extends for another few inches. The men's voices echo down the hall. She eventually slips in, unnoticed, to the captain's cell. There is another door to his cell, USC, colored orange, and it appears as a transluscent, blown-glass wall with ornate, sculpture geometrically framing and crossing it in random sections, much like the partitions in Empress Kim's Drawing Room in Mastering Mary Jane. It is lit from the other side and slides open from the center near the end of the scene. [The orange door does not make a sound when it opens or closes.])
HEINLEIN 1
(He hits the joint that fell on his side of the invisible wall.) You okay?
HEINLEIN
(He rubs his head.) Yeah, just a little out of it.
HEINLEIN 1
Rough duty roster?
HEINLEIN
You know it. Between me and Isaac and Smokey, it's been eight-hour shifts.
HEINLEIN 1
Bummer. Lemme guess; Verne’s busy commanding, Clarke’s analyzing our threat-potential and Wells is speed-growing the pot.
HEINLEIN
Bingo. Well, at least we got plenty of that Crystal Ambrosia. Thanks for the seeds.
HEINLEIN 1
Say, you might like this... try this other strain.
HEINLEIN
What's that?
HEINLEIN 1
Simoleon Spice. Seeds from buds like these aren’t supposed to exist anywhere, yet Verne’s got them by the bucket-load somehow... (Sparks it, light hit, passes...) Toke up, bro.
HEINLEIN
Is it that good?
HEINLEIN 1
Dude, it's cosmic...
HEINLEIN
Cosmic? Will it get me out of this cell?
HEINLEIN 1
No, but you might drop out of your body for a while.
HEINLEIN
Yeah, right.
HEINLEIN 1
Would I lie to you? Dude, a few hits of this stuff and you'll be feeling like you're folding space...
HEINLEIN
Cool...
CUT TO:
INT. Captain's cell.
(AZALEA enters and stands over the sleeping captain and strokes his face and chest with her long, tightly-braided-and-beaded hair. She can't resist and kneels down and touches his naked chest. She kisses him lightly. He slowly awakens. In this instance, My Critically-Perceptive Reader, I'd normally say: "Surely, there is a worse love scene written somewhere." However, I already know there is a worse one written somewhere. See: Later.)
VERNE
Azalea-
AZALEA 1
(She gracefully sits on the bed.) Zero, take me with you.
VERNE
(Almost daring to touch it:) Your hair -- it’s natural.
AZALEA 1
(She puts his hand to her scalp.) Take me with you.
VERNE
(His hand combs through her braids, pushing them back so he can see her face:) Where?
CU: AZALEA 1
AZALEA 1
(She drapes her arm across his chest and places her head to his heart, to listen to it beat and looks away, vacantly:) Tellusia...
VERNE
(He strokes her hair.) Ah- I'm not going that way.
AZALEA 1
Then take me anywhere, Halceron, Deep Space, Newkirk, anywhere!
VERNE
(He stops stroking her hair.) Newkirk?
AZALEA 1
(Pause. Sigh. She sits up gracefully.) Yes, your hometown. Where you were born... Julian.
VERNE
(Partially sitting up:) How do you know these things?
AZALEA 1
Oh Darling, I know everything about you.
VERNE
We seem to have become quite intimate since our last meeting.
AZALEA 1
(Distant:) That first meeting was quite some time ago. (Pause.) I love you, Zero. I always will.
VERNE
Love?
AZALEA 1
Yes. Every time; I always do. He thinks he’s in love with me over and over again and he knows the whole time I love you, only you. Every time!
VERNE
What?
AZALEA 1
I can't be with him, not like this, he's not like you. Never was. Never was. You're different. You're better.
VERNE
Who?
AZALEA 1
You. (Touches collar.) Him.
VERNE
Verne One?
AZALEA 1
He's not even like you. You're like me; you're kind, Zero, and you still believe in love. You have love in your heart.
VERNE
Azalea. This is complicated-
AZALEA 1
No, it isn't. It's a moment of paradise that can last forever. Kiss me. Remind me of what it is to feel love. Real love.
VERNE
Verne One, tell me about him.
(Is he crazy? The chick just asked to be kissed!)
AZALEA 1
(Looks off, absently touches her collar:) I can't. Take me with you, please. Promise! I’ll move the body!
VERNE
The body? What? Listen to me! What do you know of them?
AZALEA 1
They're a part of you, like me, and you, except they're much, much older!
VERNE
Older, how?
AZALEA 1
At first, we were all the same, it seemed the same, but that's so different now. Oh, Zero... They- they're not the same anymore. It took them so long to- They had asked all the questions, explored all the other possibilities-
VERNE
Of what?
AZALEA 1
Believe me, you'll know. They only woke me up because they thought they had to! You, you wanted me to live! You’re the only one! Only you tried to save me! Take me!
VERNE
(Grab motion, no resistance, a gentle touch, feels good, but to the point:) My ship is out-there and we're locked away in here! Who are you? What is this really about? I need answers!
AZALEA 1
Answers! Always more and more questions to find an answer! Don't look for it too hard, Zero, you may not like what you find!
(She says it sexier than any Orangutan ever could...)
VERNE
(Even more gently:) Azalea. Can you help me?
AZALEA 1
You've got to promise me you will take me, no matter what happens, no matter what anyone thinks. Even your crew-
VERNE
My crew? Azalea-
AZALEA 1
Promise! It will be our secret!
VERNE
(Pause. Her skin is sooo soft:) Very well.
MUSIC UP:
(AZALEA 1 kisses VERNE deeply. Silhouette the two. VERNE at first tries to protest then -- what was he thinking? It's a good one and seems it will last to the next commercial break or fade-to-black when the music suddenly takes a staccato, ominous turn as VERNE 1 enters through the glass door USC.)
VERNE 1
Ah, Azalea, there you are. Come, you don't want all the other women to wonder where you've gone, now, do you?
AZALEA 1
(Hesitantly, in shadows:) No.
VERNE
(Squinting from harsh light-ray across his bed and specifically, his face:) Hey! Can you be any worse with your sense of timing? And why are you keeping her prisoner?
VERNE 1
Prisoner? No. Not Azalea. She's free to come and go as she likes. Come, Azalea-
AZALEA 1
I want to stay with him. Let me stay. Just this once. With him, this one.
VERNE
(Worked up a little:) Yeah, with this one-
VERNE 1
Sure, you can stay and play with Verne Zero, but, gosh, that can take so long, and there’s still so much for you to do on your own. (Extends a hand:) Come, I promise, I’ll visit you in the meantime. And then he’ll come and visit you next time if he wants to see you again, right?
AZALEA 1
(Hesitant:) Yes.
(AZALEA gets up. She looks back at VERNE, and purses her lips as if she's subtly blowing him a kiss, then gracefully departs USC.)
VERNE
What have you done to her?
VERNE 1
I haven't done anything but bring her back from the dead -- the rest is all her. I’ve learned to love her the way she is always going to be, not the way I wanted her to be. She has a mental malady for which we, to this day, have yet to ascribe a scientific term.
VERNE
(At the doorway, perplexed; facing VERNE 1:) I don't understand.
VERNE 1
You don't need to. Get some rest, Captain. Here, watch another movie.
(Gestures with his eyes, hands and head so subtly, you really wouldn't notice it on the first take -- as offhand and requiring as little thought or movement as throwing a light switch, the door suddenly activates and begins to glow -- and changes form from a chaotic and plasmic display of color to a dull grey orderly pattern of lines and dots.)
VERNE 1 (Cont'd)
It may help you sleep.
VERNE
Azalea?
(Door slowly closes as movie begins, illuminated on the door, from the door itself. VERNE takes a step back, as the door closes and VERNE 1's last line echoes throughout the chamber, just before the opening credits of Don Rob, The Mod Madonna and The Mad Mad Mob begin rolling on the doorway...)
VERNE 1
Oh, you will certainly see her again. In time.
FTB