Alien Nation Page #9

KID:

(serving them)

Six forty-two.

They both put money on the counter. The kid goes to put

the order together. Sykes looks at the alien characters

on the menu.

SYKES:

I don't think I could ever learn to

read that sh*t.

(beat)

How long did it take you to learn

English?

JETSON:

Three months.

(off Sykes' look)

We learn quickly. We adapt. It is

our strength... what we were bred

for, to adapt to hostile

environments.

The Serving Kid puts their bags on the counter.

JETSON:

(continuing)

Thank you.

They take the bags and walk off, digging the food out of

the bags as they talk:

SYKES:

My neighbor's kid has a Newcomer

girl in his class. She's six years

old and in seventh grade already...

They climb into the car.

INT. SLUG-MOBILE - NIGHT

Jetson doesn't respond... some things are better left

unaddressed. Meanwhile, Sykes has unwrapped his food and

recoils in disgust.

SYKES:

Oh, God. I think I got yours

here...

He holds up two strips of raw meat with patches of animal

fur still on them. Jetson meanwhile is grimacing at the

dripping cheeseburger he's just unwrapped. They quickly

trade.

SYKES:

(continuing)

Which one is that? Raw what?

JETSON:

(eating a strip)

This is mole. It's good.

SYKES:

I'll bet.

(winces, watching him

chew)

Would it really put you out if they

tossed that on the grill for a

minute or two?

JETSON:

Our bodies do not assimilate the

nutrients if the food has been

cooked.

Jetson looks over at him, smiling.

SYKES:

Oh, that's real attractive. You got

fur in your teeth, George. Come on,

man, we're gonna be talking to

people... jeez.

Sykes looks at his burger, his appetite gone, shoves it

back into the sack and tosses it into the back seat.

INT./ EXT. SLUG-MOBILE - NIGHT

As Sykes pulls onto the street.

SYKES:

So what was that other word for

Human... Slow ka?

JETSON:

Ss'loka'. It means literally "small

but intelligent creature".

(Sykes looks over,

doesn't know if he

likes this)

It loses much in the translation.

SYKES:

And what was that one about my

mother? That was a good one.

JETSON:

Ss'trokya ss'lato 'na'.

SYKES:

Yeah, that's it. Say it slow.

Jetson pronounces the words and Sykes follows along

haltingly. After several tries, he can say it passably

well.

INT. ENCOUNTERS - NIGHT

An upscale, mostly yuppie-human dance club. The

antithesis of the "X" bar. A human HOSTESS in a slit

dress has just finished seating Sykes and Jetson at a

table. She moves off. The two cops look up at the stage.

REVERSE ANGLE:

revealing the exotic alien dancer named CASSANDRA. She

moves with a feline blend of strength and grace. Framing

her face is a silvery nylon wig that she tosses like a

mane as she undulates to the MUSIC.

Sykes watches with fascination. The MUSIC ends and

Cassandra steps down from the stage, to be replaced by a

human DANCER as the next SONG cranks up. Sykes and Jetson

quickly intercept her as she heads backstage.

JETSON:

You are Cassandra?

CASSANDRA:

That's right.

JETSON:

We are with the Police Department.

This is Sergeant Sykes, and I am--

CASSANDRA:

(laughing)

Ss'ai k'ss? Perfect.

SYKES:

We're looking for your boss --

Strader.

She eyes the two of them warily, then moves backstage,

assuming they will follow.

INT. BACKSTAGE - NIGHT

She moves along the narrow corridor.

CASSANDRA:

He's not here. Why ask me?

JETSON:

The young woman at the front said

you might know where he is.

CASSANDRA:

She did, did she? Well, she was

wrong. Excuse me, I have to change.

SYKES:

No problem.

She moves through a door. Sykes follows closely so does

Jetson.

INT. ENCOUNTERS - DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

Cassandra grabs some clothes and goes into a stall.

SYKES:

Look, we're not here doing an

interview for the school paper.

This is a homicide investigation...

and if you don't stop jerkin' us

around, I'm ready to start playin'

hardball.

Jetson has waited politely half-in half-out of the room.

Sykes rapidly motions to him to "go look around". Jetson

mimes back, "Huh?"

CASSANDRA:

(slipping out of her

dance costume)

Oooh. Hardball. That sounds

interesting. Are you going to

strike me? You could tie me up and

then do whatever you want with me...

I've got my own ropes.

SYKES:

(still miming to

Jetson)

Does that cost extra or you throw

them in?

CASSANDRA:

You've got me all wrong. I don't

charge money for something that I

myself find pleasurable...

Finally Jetson gets what Sykes is trying to tell him. He

says in the uncertain, stagy voice of a bad liar:

JETSON:

I am going out to the car. I will

meet you there.

Sykes rolls his eyes as Jetson exits into the corridor.

Cassandra emerges from the stall, wearing a long, stylish,

low-cut dress.

CASSANDRA:

Look, I don't know where Mr.

Strader might be. He comes and he

goes.

SYKES:

(starting to feel a

little uncomfortable)

The girl out front mentioned

Strader's assistant, somebody named

Watson. Maybe he knows.

CASSANDRA:

(tensing slightly)

Todd? Todd doesn't know either.

She is very close to Sykes now. She fingers the lapel of

his jacket.

CASSANDRA:

(continuing)

I know... Why don't you hang around

for a while, let me entertain you?

It's Matt, right? Now tell me the

truth, have you ever... made it...

with one of us?

SYKES:

Not unless I got real drunk and

nobody told me about it later.

CASSANDRA:

A virgin. I find that very

arousing...

INT. SECOND FLOOR CORRIDOR - NIGHT

MUSIC drifts up from downstairs. Jetson moves along the

corridor, scoping things out. He tries a door. Locked.

Tries another one. Open. He eases it wider, then enters

the darkened office.

INT. OFFICE - SECOND FLOOR - NIGHT

Jetson moves into the office. Looks around. Makes his

way to the cluttered desk top. Pushes things around...

all the usual stuff. He starts to turn away, then his eye

catches something sticking out from behind a row of ledger

books. He reaches for it. A small dispenser -- of the

kind we saw being filled at the refinery. Jetson studies

it, his suspicions growing. Opening it, he finds only the

barest trace of a viscous substance.

He smells it... not enough to tell for certain what it is.

But enough that he is very concerned about what it could

be.

INT. CASSANDRA'S DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

Cassandra is practically melting herself into Sykes now.

She takes his hand and guides his fingertips over her

facial ridges. She shudders with pleasure. Sykes begins

to perspire.

SYKES:

There's lots of things I haven't

done, but his ain't high on the

list. Don't take it personally.

CASSANDRA:

I think you're just a little scared

now, about what you might find once

the lights go out. A little

scared... and a lot curious. Maybe

more than you want to admit. But

doesn't that turn you on, that

curiosity and fear, swirling

together?

(coos)

Think of it as broadening your

horizons.

SYKES:

I like my horizons narrow.

CASSANDRA:

(pressing herself

into him)

Your voice is saying no, but your

body is saying yes.

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