Alien Nation Page #6

JETSON:

And still it fits?

Sykes looks at Jetson's serious expression. He tosses the

condom and packet back into the counter and continues

searching. A beat, then he can't stop himself -- he

steals a glance at Jetson's crotch.

Still searching, Sykes picks up one of the dead alien's

well-worn heavy work boots. He grimaces... the sides and

soles are painted with a viscous black substance. He very

tentatively sniffs it... and is grateful that it's not

what he thought it might be.

SYKES:

What is this stuff?

Sykes gets some on his hands, doesn't know where to wipe

it. Jetson glances over.

JETSON:

It is a resin.

Sykes looks at him... surprised that he knows.

JETSON:

(continuing)

Newcomers working near methane

gasses at oil refineries must paint

it on their boots to protect against

sparks.

SYKES:

How the hell do you know that?

JETSON:

A large number of my people were

hired by refineries because the

methane fumes are not harmful to us.

My spouse's brother is one.

SYKES:

So the Slag they're cutting into

upstairs worked at a refinery just

like Hubley worked at a refinery.

(beat)

I'd say that "possible" connection

between the two cases just got a

hell of a lot more possible.

(beat)

Okay, next step -- I gotta go talk

to the wife of the Slag store owner

blown away last night.

JETSON:

I believe I should interview the

widow alone.

SYKES:

Why the hell--?!

(realizes it's

because of his lack

of "bedside manner")

Great, fine. You talk to the wife.

CUT TO:

INT./ EXT. MINI-MART - LATE AFTERNOON

The shattered windows have been covered with plywood.

Through the open doorway we see Jetson talking to the

Proprietor's Wife. She studies a photo Jetson shows her,

nods her head, speaking rapidly in the alien language.

CUT TO:

EXT. REFINERY - LATE AFTERNOON

Sykes drives along beside the mammoth, steaming network of

buildings and pipes that make up the refinery.

CUT TO:

INT. REFINERY - LATE AFTERNOON

Through the loud and smoky refinery we see Sykes walking

with the newly promoted Methane Section manager, O'NEAL,

in tie and shirtsleeves. The workmen around them are both

human and Newcomer.

O'NEAL

(yelling over the

roar)

Mr. Hubley was an all right guy --

and a damn good manager. The men

liked him. I'm really gonna have to

scramble to fill his shoes.

SYKES:

Well, one of the men didn't like him

so much...

They stop and Sykes hands O'Neal the polariod photo of

Raincoat alien. They have stopped near the heavy

refrigeration-type door leading to the "METHANE SECTION".

Newcomer workers move in and out through the door during:

O'NEAL

(looking at photo)

You think this is the guy who did

it?

SYKES:

We think he could'a been involved,

yeah. You know him?

O'NEAL

To be honest, it's hard to say. I

hate to admit it but -- they all

still kinda look alike to me.

SYKES:

(impatient)

Who else can I ask around here?

O'NEAL

(looking at photo

again)

Wait. You know who it looks like?

Yeah. Anderson. Uh... James

Anderson. He isn't in today. He

took the afternoon off.

SYKES:

I think you're gonna find he's taken

the rest of his life off.

O'Neal reacts. Sykes notices the door to the Methane

Section.

SYKES:

That where Anderson worked?

O'NEAL

Yes it is.

(some alien workers

come through the

door)

Thirty-five percent pure Methane gas

in there. I don't know how these

fellas do it.

Sykes watches two more alien workers pass back through the

door. O'Neal watches Sykes' expression for signs of

suspicion.

CUT TO:

HIGH ANGLE SHOT - SYKES AND O'NEAL

We see Sykes hand O'Neal a card, then move off. O'Neal

watches him briefly, then crosses to some steps and starts

up this way.

We PAN with him as he enters a door here on the second

level.

CUT TO:

INT. METHANE SECTION CONTROL ROOM - LATE AFTERNOON

O'Neal enters, moves to a telephone, begins to dial.

Beyond is a glass wall overlooking the Methane Section.

CUT TO:

ANGLE - BELOW

CAMERA TRACKS through the Methane Section... past the

alien workers in lab whites... past all the arcane

equipment and chemical procedures... ending in an EXTREME

CLOSE UP of a small cylindrical dispenser as it fills

slowly with a pale blue, viscous liquid.

CUT TO:

INT./ EXT. SLUG-MOBILE - JETSON'S STREET - DUSK

We're SHOOTING THROUGH the slug-mobile window as Sykes

pulls up in front of Jetson's modest but immaculately

maintained home on the outskirts of Slagtown. Jetson's

WIFE, an attractive alien woman, stands watering the lawn

with a garden hose. Jetson's son, age six, rides his

bicycle along the walkway. Jetson, dressed in his suit

for work, crouches near the walkway, playing with his son.

Sykes pulls the car toward the curb, rolls his eyes.

SYKES:

Jesus. Welcome back Ozzie and

Harriet...

He HONKS the horn. Jetson looks up, then moves to his

wife and kisses her goodbye. Moves to his son, kisses him

on the top of his head.

Sykes watches all this... and as he does, slowly his

derisive expression softens. As corny as this tableau may

be, there's something very appealing about the innocence

of it... even to an unrepentant cynic like Sykes.

Jetson starts to climb into the car, and we--

CUT TO:

INT. RESTROOM - BILTMORE HOTEL - NIGHT

CLOSE on an alien hand as it removes one of the drug

dispensers from a tuxedo pocket. As the hand brings the

dispenser toward the face, we immediately recognize the

exotic silver bracelet worn by Kipling the night before.

It makes that distinctive CLINKING NOISE. We PAN with the

hand to reveal Kipling's face... sans bandana and

sunglasses now. He wears a black tuxedo. He lets a small

dab of the blue gel curl from the dispenser onto his

tongue. He swallows... and reacts as the rush from the

drug hits him.

The door to the men's room bangs open and a MIDDLE AGED

POLITICO enters, obviously drunk.

Kipling quickly pockets the dispenser, moves past the

Politico to the exit...

CUT TO:

INT. SLUG-MOBILE - NIGHT

Sykes drives, heading for the Biltmore Hotel.

JETSON:

Mrs. Porter is not taking her

husband's death well.

SYKES:

(impatient)

Did you learn anything?

JETSON:

A week ago two men came to see her

husband. After they left, he was

very frightened. She identified one

of the men from a photo I showed

her. It was Hubley.

SYKES:

Aw-right. What about the other guy?

JETSON:

She didn't know him. But she said

her son might.

SYKES:

Did you talk to him?

JETSON:

He has not been home since that day.

But she told me where to find him.

Sykes nods.

CUT TO:

INT. MAIN BALLROOM - BILTMORE HOTEL - NIGHT

The men are in tuxedos, the women in evening gowns. Only

two of three Newcomers faces present. Kipling threads his

way among the tables as the MAYOR, at the speaker's

platform, addresses the assembly.

MAYOR:

... Our guest speaker tonight has

done so much in his community and

for his community in such a short

period of time. And I must say, as

the founder of the first Newcomer

owned and operated corporation in

Southern California, he certainly

has come quite far in the last few

years. Granted, not as far as he

came in the years before reaching

Los Angeles.

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