Contact Page #5

CUT TO:

EXT. DESERT - WIDE

Ellie's tiny hunched-over figure is sitting about a

thousand yards away from the main building, rocking slowly

back and forth under the vast desert sky, back and

forth,listening...

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. NEW MEXICO DESERT - AERIAL SHOT - DAY

A government sedan travels the dusty road to the VLA.

EXT. VLA MAIN BUILDING - LATER AFTERNOON

The sedan pulls up. WILLIE climbs out of the driver's

side and comes around to get the bags as David Drumlin

emerges, formidable and patrician as ever. Kent, Fisher,

Millington, Curtain and a number of other scientists are

there to greet him.

DRUMLIN:

(hand at his back)

Now I remember why I went into

theoretical work. Kent.

KENT:

Glad to have you, David. How's the

new office?

DRUMLIN:

Still settling in, really.

(looking over the

group)

Where's Dr. Arroway?

INT. VLA CONTROL ROOM - AFTERNOON

Kent and Fisher lead Drumlin through the complex; his

conservative suit out of place among the jeans and

T-shirts; other scientists either smile obsequiously or

avert their gaze.

FISHER:

... not that there's a whole lot in

the way of entertainment around here

but I guess it beats communing with

washing machines.

DRUMLIN:

What's that?

KENT:

Nothing.

(looking at Fisher;

hesitates a long

beat)

Okay. Some of us have been a

little... not concerned, exactly,

but...

DRUMLIN:

(almost gently)

Tell me.

KENT:

(hesitates again;

finally)

Last week, about 3 A.M., Fish -- Dr.

Fisher -- was on a late shift, and

he found her doing laundry.

DRUMLIN:

So?

KENT:

So... there wasn't any clothes in

the machine. She was just sitting

there on the floor with her ear

pressed up against the Maytag.

Listening.

EXT. VLA LIVING QUARTERS - ESTABLISHING - DUSK

Across a barren patch of desert lies a weathered

residential outbuilding, something between a dormitory and

a Motel Six.

INT. ELLIE'S QUARTERS - DUSK

Home. Painted cinderblock, a single star map up on the

wall. An old lumpy couch, several monitors along a shelf

on one wall that connects her to the control room.

Headphones, listening equipment. Ellie is at the fridge.

ELLIE:

Pepsi? Tequila?

DRUMLIN:

No, thanks.

He sits on the corner of the unmade bed. Ellie pops open

a soda, unselfconscious.

DRUMLIN:

Peter sends his regards.

ELLIE:

(a little too

nonchalant)

Oh? How's he doing?

DRUMLIN:

Very well; since my appointment he's

been made interim director.

ELLIE:

Really? Congratulations, by the

way.

DRUMLIN:

I'm surprised you even knew it was

an election year.

ELLIE:

'President's Science Advisor' -- so

what, you just spend all your time

jetting around on Air Force One

now...?

DRUMLIN:

Now exactly. It's... complicated.

ELLIE:

No doubt.

DRUMLIN:

(a beat, then)

Ellie...

ELLIE:

(avoiding the

inevitable)

Did I tell you we've expanded the

search spectrum? We're including

several other possible magic

frequencies -- not just the hydrogen

line anymore. I was trying to get

inside their heads, y'know? And I

started thinking, what other

constants are there in the Universe

besides hydrogen, and then suddenly

it was so obvious -- transcendantals,

right? So we've been trying

variations of pi...

DRUMLIN:

You know why I'm here.

ELLIE:

It's not enough having my search

time systematically cut down -- you

know I'm down to three hours a week

now.

DRUMLIN:

Ellie, I should have done this a

long time ago, certainly before I

left the N.S.F., but I wanted to

give you every benefit of the

doubt --

ELLIE:

You can't just pull the plug, David.

DRUMLIN:

It's not like you've given me much

choice.

ELLIE:

Meaning...

DRUMLIN:

Meaning I have to go defend a budget

to the President and to Congress and

you're out here listening to washing

machines.

ELLIE:

(quietly)

I'm searching for patterns in the

noise, that's all. Order in the

chaos. I'm practicing listening --

DRUMLIN:

The point is, this isn't just

scientific inquiry anymore -- it's

turned into some kind of personal

obsession.

ELLIE:

The difference being what -- that I

refuse to adopt the standard line,

that I don't care about the results

of my work? Well, I do care. Of

course any discovery has to be

verifiable, of course it must be

subject to all rigors of scientific

method, but I refuse to go around

pretending I'm some kind of

dispassionate automaton when it's

obvious to anyone with a brain I'm

just not.

DRUMLIN:

No... You're not. But the price has

just gotten too high.

ELLIE:

Goddamnit, they are out there,

David --

DRUMLIN:

Then why haven't you detected any

signals? If, as you claim, there

have been thousands, millions of

advanced civilizations out there for

millions of years then why hasn't

one signal gotten through?

(rising)

It'll take a month or two for the

paperwork to go through; you're

welcome to stay until then.

ELLIE:

David --

DRUMLIN:

It was a worthy experiment -- worthy

of you; I was wrong about that part.

But it's over now.

He leaves. Ellie just stands there in the window,

fighting back the emotion, watching the telescopes in the

falling light...

EXT. SPACE - MESSAGE

approaches the out regions of our solar system; Neptune --

an austere, deep blue gas world with swirling clouds of

methane.

The message shoots by more worlds at the speed of light.

Saturn. Jupiter. Closer.

MESSAGE - TO EARTH - DESCENDING VIEWS

Approaching the big blue and white marble, breathtaking

against a backdrop of stars.

We PLUNGE PAST the outer satellites, the Hubble telescope

-- Space Station Mir. We ENTER the atmosphere, DESCENDING

THROUGH layers of clouds, DOWN farther and farther, FASTER

AND FASTER --

We RUSH DOWN TOWARD North America, the Southwest U.S.,

SMASHING DOWN TOWARD the tiny dot of the VLA, TOWARD the

westernmost dish and INTO the antenna at its center --

INSERT - TV - LARRY KING LIVE

The famous host's familiar features, pixilated in EXTREME

CLOSEUP.

LARRY KING (V.O.)

(TV)

My guest tonight is author and

theologian Palmer Joss, 'God's

diplomat' according to the New York

Times. His new book -- Losing Faith

-- is currently number one on that

publication's bestseller list.

Thanks for being with us, Reverend.

Okay -- who's losing faith -- and

why?

Our first glimpse of Palmer Joss. He has a rumpled,

rugged charm that has become just the slightest bit

polished. No bullshit, agreeably ironic, he's ridden the

wave of the New Spiritualism farther than even he ever

imagined.

JOSS (V.O.)

Well, let me start this way, Larry.

What has science done for you

lately?

LARRY KING (V.O.)

Besides letting me broadcast this

program all over the world?

JOSS (V.O.)

(smiles)

Besides that. Or better, I'll give

you that, but tell me this: Are

you happier? Are we happier? Is

our would fundamentally a better

place?

WIDEN SLOWLY to reveal:

INT. VLA CONTROL ROOM - NIGHT

Willie and Fisher sit at the command console, battling the

ennui of their watch. BOB MARLEY plays on a battered

BOOMBOX; Fisher watches Joss on a Watchman.

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