Alien Nation Page #8

CUT TO:

EXT. "X" BAR - NIGHT

A violet neon "X" FILLS FRAME, flashing hypnotically.

It's a bar catering to rough-trade Newcomer clientele.

Several ALIEN MEN, brute laborer-types, lounge around out

front. They glare with antagonism as Sykes and Jetson

climb out of their car.

SYKES:

(to Jetson)

Okay, just stay back and do what I

do. Watch and learn, watch and

learn...

INT. "X" BAR - NIGHT

Sykes and Jetson walk into the almost total blackness of

this all-Newcomer place.

A few near-infrared indigo lamps dot the blackness.

SYKES:

I can't see dick in here.

We can dimly make out booths along one wall, some tables,

and the bar. There are maybe twenty figures seated or

standing in the darkness. The room falls silent in a wave

as Sykes' presence becomes noticed.

Sykes saunters forward, commanding the space with his

unhurried movements.

SYKES:

(calling into the

dark silence)

Which one'a you Slags is Porter?

VOICE:

(from the back of

the bar)

Who wants to know?

Sykes squints into the darkness, then--

SYKES:

(aside to Jetson)

Who said that?

JETSON:

(tilts his head to

indicate)

At the end of the bar.

Sykes nods, starts in that direction.

SYKES:

My name is Sykes. I'm--

ALIEN VOICE:

Ss'ai k'ss?

The whole place roars with LAUGHTER. Too late Sykes

remembers what his name sounds like to them. He continues

down the bar and a figure in one of the booths sticks his

leg out and trips Sykes with his size 16 work boot. Sykes

stumbles, then recovers and pivots on the offender. Hoots

and derisive LAUGHTER. He sees only shadows.

OFFENDER:

(merely a voice in

the dark)

Careful, ss'loka', you might hurt

yourself.

More laughter. Sykes gives the darkness where the

offender sits a hard stare, then turns and shoulders his

way to the end of the bar. Jetson follows. Sykes stops

behind a big Newcomer in greasy work clothes.

ANGLE:

The punk Newcomer in the next seat is keeping his head

down, trying to be inconspicuous.

He glances over at the two cops... his expression shifting

to recognition as he spots Jetson.

BACK TO SCENE:

Sykes speaks to the Big Newcomer's back.

SYKES:

You Porter?

The Big Newcomer continues to sip his mug of sour milk.

Doesn't turn. Sykes grabs him by the shoulder and turns

him around. The alien grabs Sykes' hand off, rising to

his full height. He and Sykes lock eyes. Meanwhile. the

punk Newcomer (PORTER) has started to slip away unnoticed.

Jetson spots him, reaches out with one arm, and grabs him

by the jacket.

JETSON:

No, Matthew. I believe this is the

one you want.

He pulls Porter back into play. Now Jetson sees Porter's

face... and he, too, reacts with recognition.

Sykes gives Jetson a sour look, releases the Big Newcomer,

and turns his malice on the punk Newcomer.

SYKES:

Your name wouldn't happen to be

Porter, would it?

JETSON:

Uh, Matthew...

SYKES:

(over his shoulder

to Jetson)

Back off, George.

JETSON:

But I-- (know this man).

SYKES:

I'll handle it.

Jetson backs off, letting him handle it.

SYKES:

(to Porter)

Jesus, are the questions too tough

for you already? Let's try again--

(slowly)

Is your name Porter?

PORTER:

Ss'kya'ta'.

SYKES:

(to Jetson)

What's that?

JETSON:

Screw you.

SYKES:

(back to Porter)

Screw me? That can't be right.

PORTER:

Ss'kya ta' ss'loka'. Ss'trokya'

ss'lato na'!

JETSON:

(to Sykes, low)

You don't want to know.

SYKES:

Tell me.

JETSON:

Your mother mates out of season.

SYKES:

(to Porter)

That's very colorful. But see --

now I've got a problem. I don't

seem to be getting much cooperation

from you, Porter. So I guess we're

gonna have to take this little

session down to my office, ya

know?

And instantly Sykes whips out this flashlight, snaps on

the beam, and arcs it into the faces of the aliens around

him. Jetson gets a blast of it, too. The aliens are

momentarily blinded.

Sykes has Porter pinned to the bar, the flashlight in his

face, as he starts to handcuff him. But Porter gets a

hand free and crushes the head of the flashlight.

Darkness falls... along with Sykes' expression of

satisfaction.

Porter hurls Sykes back, slamming him into a table. The

crowd HOOTS and CHEERS. Sykes finds his way to his feet.

JETSON:

Matthew, you don't have to-- (do this).

SYKES:

Stay back! I'm okay.

He charges Porter, brandishing the flashlight like a club.

The two of them battle, then Sykes sees his opportunity

and brings his knee up viciously into the alien's groin.

Porter doubles over in feigned agony, then slowly rises

again -- smiling.

PORTER:

Don't they teach you anything about

us in cop school, little ss'loka'?

Porter grabs Sykes by the shirt front, is about to deliver

a crushing blow, when another arm cuts into FRAME, locking

with Porter's, blocking the punch. It is Jetson.

JETSON:

Enough.

PORTER:

(eyeing Jetson)

Ss'tangya T'ssorentsa'. You're a

cop.

(with some contempt)

It fits you.

Jetson says something to him in the alien language.

Porter gives him a hard stare, then moves toward the back

exit. Sykes stumbles over to Jetson.

SYKES:

You know that guy?

JETSON:

(nods)

From quarantine, when my people

first arrived here. He and I were

housed together.

SYKES:

How could a straight-arrow like you

ever pick a roommate like him?

JETSON:

In the camps, we were lodged four to

a room. The selection process was

entirely random. We did not get to

stay with our friends... or

families...

And he moves toward the back exit. Sykes watches him go.

CUT TO:

EXT. "X" BAR - NIGHT

Porter leans against an alley wall. He speaks English

learned on the streets.

JETSON:

You don't know what your father and

these two men were arguing about?

PORTER:

I told you -- I was in the back of

the store. I just heard voices,

muffled like.

SYKES:

One of the two men was Hubley,

right? What about the other one?

Did you know him?

PORTER:

Yeah... I seen him around. High-

roller dude named Strader. Joshua

Strader. Runs a club on the west

side. Encounters.

SYKES:

Yeah, I heard of it.

PORTER:

That's all I know. You want

anything more, you ask somebody

else.

He pushes away from the wall, heads for the door to the

bar.

JETSON:

I am sorry about your father.

Porter throws him a look over his shoulder, then

disappears through the door. Sykes and Jetson start down

the alley.

JETSON:

If I may make a suggestion... We

have different weak spots than you

do. Next time, a blow to the nerve

plexus under the arm, here, will

produce the effect I think you were

looking for.

SYKES:

Yeah, sure. I knew that...

CUT TO:

EXT. BURGER STAND - NIGHT

The wall-mounted menu is in English and the Alien

Language. The SERVERS are teen aged humans and aliens.

Sykes and Jetson stand at the counter awaiting their

order.

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