Contact Page #4

PETER:

(pausing)

How close are you to getting this

funding put together?

ELLIE:

It's almost there. The hardest part

is getting someone to sell us the

telescope time.

PETER:

What if I said I could get Drumlin

to agree to sell you time in New

Mexico?

ELLIE:

(stunned)

The V.L.A.?

PETER:

Thirty-one linked dishes. You could

search more sky there in a day than

you could in a year here.

ELLIE:

Peter -- if you can get him to do

that for me he'd obviously do the

same for you -- we could -- !

PETER:

Actually --

ELLIE:

We could be together again --

PETER:

-- I'm moving to Washington.

ELLIE:

(confused)

Greenbank?

PETER:

I'm going on staff at the N.S.F. To

work for Drumlin.

ELLIE:

But what about your research -- ?

PETER:

This is a chance to be of enormous

help to other people's research --

to have the power to be a real

advocate where David's got blind

spots --

ELLIE:

But the work --

PETER:

'The work,' Jesus, Ellie, can't

there just once be more to life than

the work? Okay, maybe that's the

only way to get the recognition, win

the prizes --

ELLIE:

Please, you're just as ambitious as

I am, more --

PETER:

Maybe that's the problem. I want...

a family, Ellie. I want kids. A

townhouse on L street instead of

still living like a college kid. A

real life. Maybe that makes me a

sellout but I don't care anymore.

It's what I want.

ELLIE:

And you think I don't want those

things? You think I don't stay up

half the night wondering if I've

made the right choice living half a

world away from you, wondering if

any of this is worth what I'm giving

up for it everyday?

(as Peter is silent;

suddenly)

Let's get married.

PETER:

Jesus --

ELLIE:

Right now -- we'll drive down to

Ramey and get the base chaplain to

marry us.

PETER:

Ellie --

ELLIE:

I'm serious about this, Peter --

PETER:

Ellie -- I'm getting married.

(off a stunned

silence)

Her name's Laura. She came up to

Owens Valley to do her post-doc

about six months after you left.

ELLIE:

(stares)

You sonofabitch.

PETER:

That is true. But it's also true

that if I really thought we wanted

the same things, I'd follow you

anywhere... but the truth is I don't

think you want the company.

(softly)

Be honest, El. There's nowhere

you'd rather be than sitting out at

some remote corner of the world

searching for the answers to the

mysteries of the universe. And call

me crazy, but I just can't compete

with that... I'm sorry.

There's nothing left to say. He rises, starts to make his

way down. OFF Ellie, stunned --

DEEP SPACE - MESSAGE

The yellow star is now definitely brighter than the rest.

EXT. NEW MEXICO DESERT - AERIAL SHOT - NIGHT

A 1967 T-Bird travels swiftly along a dirt road through

the moonlit desert. The VIEW CLIMBS, WIDENS to include a

huge radio telescope, and as we come around we see an even

more stunning sight: 30 more of them.

SUPERIMPOSE:
SAPPORO, NEW MEXICO - 1993

EXT. VLA MAIN BUILDING - NIGHT

The T-Bird pulls up in front of a bland, institutional

building. Ellie climbs out, stretches, then pulls a

single small suitcase from the back seat.

INT. CAFETERIA/LOUNGE - NIGHT

Over an ancient Mr. Coffee machine some hysteric has

scribbled:
"Someone has been drinking the coffee without

leaving the .10c in the cup and WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE."

Ellie drops her dime in. As she pours she hears a strange

sound:
a steady repetitive SSSHHH... SSSHHH... She

follows the noise down the hall.

INT. CONTROL ROOM - NIGHT

The lights are off; the large room is illuminated solely

by the night sky and glowing banks of electronic

equipment. Through the large panorama window we can see

the silhouettes of the enormous radio telescopes in the

moonlight. We make out a shape sitting in the darkness

listening to the sounds, louder now: SSSHHH... SSSHHH...

And then a voice calls out:

VOICE (O.S.)

Light's behind you, to the left.

Ellie finds the switch, flips on the lights, revealing

KENT CULLERS, 30's, wearing Raybans.

ELLIE:

Dr. Cullers?

KENT:

Kent, Kent for Chrissakes. You must

be Eleanor.

ELLIE:

(moving to the

control panel)

Ellie. Pulsar?

KENT:

1919+21. Found a glitch in the

timing; probably a starquake.

ELLIE:

Nice. Where?

Kent types in a few commands and the computer screen

lights up. It reads "Radio Sky" and it looks nothing like

the ordinary optical sky; more like an elaborate oriental

rug. Pointing:

KENT:

Here, right around Centaurus A.

ELLIE:

This is how you see the sky?

KENT:

It's how I hear it. The display's

just a little something I programmed

for astronomers with the misfortune

of sight.

ELLIE:

It's beautiful.

KENT:

Never seen the optical sky myself,

but I hear it's nice too.

MILLINGTON (O.S.)

Yo, Ray Charles, time's up. Oh --

sorry --

KENT:

Doctors Millington, Curtain, Dr.

Arroway.

Ellie raises a hand in greeting to the two men in the

doorway, they wave awkwardly back.

KENT:

Rick's doing black holes at the

center of galaxies; Tom's studying

globular clusters in the e-band.

(to the guys)

And Dr. Arroway here will be

spending her precious time listening

for little green men. All yours,

guys.

As he rises MILLINGTON and CURTAIN move to take his place

at the controls. They maneuver shyly around Ellie.

ELLIE:

Um... should I...

MILLINGTON/CURTAIN

(way too fast)

No, no, no -- have a seat.

Kent smiles, exits. Ellie sits, looks over the control

console, rubs her hands...

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. VLA CONTROL ROOM - DAY

In the daylight we see the sad truth of the place: a

character-free cinderblock box filled with a mishmash of

equipment, aging and jerry-rigged alongside the spoils

of the odd successful grant application. Through a wall

of windows we can see the cafeteria/lounge area; an

ancient Ping-Pong table.

ELLIE (O.S.)

Hey, Fish, has that pointing error

in twenty-nine been fixed yet?

FISHER:

It's a worm gear; still a little

sluggish but it'll have to do.

Ellie again sits at the main console, but time has clearly

dissipated some of her initial enthusiasm. She frowns as

she peers at the telescope THROUGH the windows...

ELLIE:

J39 Z186...?

WILLIE:

Been there, done that, got the

T-shirt.

ELLIE:

VB10's an M dwarf; Signa Draconis...

too old.

KENT:

(at the coffee

machine)

You've only searched -- what is it,

sixteen hundred stars without a

peep? Try not to take it too

personally.

ELLIE:

Thank you, Mr. Sensitive.

(frowns)

I'm coming at this wrong... missing

something... something...

DISSOLVE TO:

PAIR OF HANDS:

pick up a think coil of cable.

DUSTY PAIR OF SNEAKERS

trek through the moonlit scrub desert, trailing cable

behind them...

EXT. DESERT - NIGHT

Ellie sits cross-legged on the hard earth, hunched over

with her fingers barely touching the pair of headphones

she wears. We hear the faint arhythmic pulsing of

STATIC... Ellie's eyes are closed; she leans forward, an

expression of peculiar intensity on her face...

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