Alien Nation Page #13

EXT. BEACH - DUSK

A quick glimpse of a pile of dark yuck in the shape of a

person, black and skeletal beneath the remains of a silk

suit. Wound around the corpse are streamers of kelp and

other high tide detritus.

ANGLE ON SYKES, FEDORCHUK, AND ALTEREZ

looking down at the body. A CORONER'S TECHNICIAN is doing

a closer inspection.

FEDORCHUK:

Found his wallet in his jacket

pocket. Joshua Strader, big as

life.

CORONER'S TECH

Jesus, what a mess. It's gonna be a

bear to make a positive

determination, but it looks to me

like he was shot before being tossed

in the drink. At least twice--

(indicates where

hearts would've

been on the body)

-- here, and here.

Sykes absorbs this. He rises along with Fedorchuk and

Alterez.

SYKES:

How're you two doing on Tuggle's

killer?

ALTEREZ:

The store owner's son is in a street

gang, so now we're thinking maybe

it's gang related.

SYKES:

Yeah, that's real good. You guys

follow up on that for a coupla

months.

Fedorchuk looks up at Jetson standing on the bluff above.

FEDORCHUK:

Look at your dildo partner. He's

too scared to even come down to the

sand.

(calls up to Jetson,

even though he's too

far away to hear)

You're not gonna get wet standing

here, moron!

SYKES:

I'd like to see you next to a sea of

hydrochloric acid, Fedorchuk... see

how much surfin' you'd do.

Alterez shoots a polaroid of the body. Sykes grabs it as

it emerges from the camera and walks back toward the car.

Fedorchuk flips him the bird. As Sykes rounds the car, he

sees that someone has drawn on the door in yellow liquid

chalk marker a big star with "E.T. P.D." printed inside

it. Sykes looks around. Fedorchuk and the others stand

together chuckling, conspicuously not looking in his

direction.

SYKES:

Cute.

EXT. BEACH ROAD - DUSK

Sykes has stopped to pick Jetson up.

He's wiping the "E.T. P.D." from the door as Jetson

approaches from the edge of the bluff. Fedorchuk pulls up

alongside in his n.d. sedan. He calls off to Jetson, who

is still twenty yards away.

FEDORCHUK:

Well, if it isn't Detective Jetson.

Forget you hip waders, big guy?

SYKES:

Lay off, a**hole.

FEDORCHUK:

I may be an a**hole, but at least

I'm a real detective, not some outer

sh*t space thing.

Sykes, his face neutral, which we should by now know to be

highly dangerous, saunters to Fedorchuk's car and leans

against it.

SYKES:

Yeah? you're a real honest-to-god

detective...?

Sykes grabs the back of Fedorchuk's head and slams it into

the steering wheel, BAM-HONK!, and in doing so, has hurt

his hand again (the hand he hit Jetson with).

He shakes that hand while lunging in and grabbing

Fedorchuk's car keys with the other.

SYKES:

(continuing)

Then detect these!

Fedorchuk, holding his bloody nose, watches as his car

keys sail out in an arc out over the bluff. Jetson, just

climbing into the slug-mobile, witnesses the last of this

scene without knowing how it began.

INT. SLUG-MOBILE - DUSK

Sykes gets in, slams the door. His hand hurts as he grabs

the wheel. He holds the wheel gingerly as he slams the

car into gear and hurls gravel up the road toward P.C.H.

Jetson looks over, curious.

JETSON:

What was that about?

SYKES:

(embarrassed that he

defended Jetson)

Nothing.

On Jetson's confused expression, we--

CUT TO:

EXT. BURGER STAND - NIGHT

A different burger stand. Sykes and Jetson sit across

from each other at one of the outdoor tables... Sykes with

his greasy burger, Jetson with his mole strips. This time

they have no trouble eating in front of each other as they

talk.

SYKES:

... So we've got three guys dead.

All Newcomers, all killed the same

way -- execution style.

JETSON:

Warren Hubley was in middle

management at a refinery... Joshua

Strader operated a successful bar

and nightclub...

SYKES:

... and Porter ran a piece of sh*t

mom-and-pop mini-mart.

(beat)

So what the hell's the connection?

CUT TO:

INT. PATHOLOGY LAB OFFICE - NIGHT

Sykes and Jetson enter the cluttered lab office. Winter

is here eating take-out chicken at his cluttered desk.

SYKES:

You guys finished the postmortem on

Strader yet?

WINTER:

(his mouth full)

You mean the Blob? They're

finishing up now.

JETSON:

Is Bentner here? I must speak with

him.

WINTER:

He went home early -- his kid was

sick.

Jetson frowns.

WINTER:

(continuing)

Yeah, but he left something for you.

He wipes his greasy fingers on a napkin, then finds an

envelope on the desk and hands it to Jetson. Jetson tears

open the sealed envelope. The message inside is written

in the alien language.

WINTER:

(continuing)

Does this have something to do with

the test he ran that he wouldn't

tell me about?

CLOSE ON - JETSON

His expression grows stricken as he reads the message.

BACK TO SCENE:

SYKES:

(getting very curious

and suspicious now)

What kind of test?

WINTER:

Looking for some foreign compound in

the blood of that alien you dropped

the other day.

SYKES:

Did he find anything?

Winter shrugs, indicates the message Jetson reads, as if

to say, "Maybe it says in there".

SYKES:

(to Jetson)

Well?

Jetson refolds the paper and puts it in his pocket.

He is clearly disturbed by what he has read. He looks at

Sykes a moment, then quickly breaks eye contact.

JETSON:

It is nothing.

Jetson quickly moves off. Sykes hurries off after him.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

Sykes hurries to catch up with the fast walking Jetson.

They eventually reach the elevators and Jetson jabs the

button during:

SYKES:

What's this nothing sh*t? It wasn't

nothing yesterday when you asked

Bentner to run that test and he

looked like he was about to sh*t

peach pits, and it's not nothing

now. Don't lie to me, George,

you're bad at it.

JETSON:

(distant, closed)

You must leave me alone on this.

The elevator arrives, he steps in. Sykes follows.

INT. ELEVATOR - NIGHT

They enter the empty elevator. Jetson presses the button

to descend.

SYKES:

No, see, I don't leave you alone...

I'm your partner. I don't work that

way... Tug didn't work that way.

Jetson remains steadfast. Sykes, about to explode, slams

his palm against the red Emergency Stop button and the

elevator lurches to a halt between floors.

SYKES:

(continuing)

No secrets, goddammit! You don't

hold back from me. Whatever is

going on, you're gonna tell me now!

JETSON:

(agonizing)

No. I cannot involve you. This is

not your concern.

SYKES:

The hell it isn't, when somebody

wires up enough C-4 explosive to my

car to turn me into pink mist!

(beat)

That Slag was on something, and not

sour milk, either? Am I right?

(he has backed Jetson

to the wall by sheer

force of will)

TELL ME! What is it?

JETSON:

(finally)

... It is called ss'jabroka'. To us

it is a potent narcotic.

SYKES:

How potent?

JETSON:

Like your cocaine, I suppose. The

"high" lasts several hours. We

would receive small amounts of it...

as a reward for our labor.

SYKES:

We? You've taken it?

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