Gravity Page #12

The vessel is almost lost in the deep black of night.

Fluorescent green light pours out of the porthole, like a lonely

firefly lost in the deep of night.

CONTROL CABIN.

And the night has brought with it its cold grip.

Ryan shivers and her voice is now weak, but she continues

searching for help-

RYAN:

Houston, this is Ryan Stone, can you

hear me? Copy? Houston, this is Ryan

Stone, can you hear me? Copy?

She turns her neck stiffly, looks at the-

TEMPERATURE DIAL, -8 degrees and dropping. Through the PORTHOLE

the SUN drops. DARKNESS descends.

Finally, a SOUND SURFACES through the static:

A CRACKLING.

The CRACKLING SOUND is coming from the communication headset.

Ryan puts it on and brings the mouthpiece to her lips.

RYAN (CONT’D)

Houston. Houston! This is Mission

Specialist Ryan Stone. Do you copy!

This glimmer of hope gives her a new burst of energy.

She TURNS ON THE CABIN LIGHT and attempts to tune into the

frequency, turning one of the control panel’s dials. She frowns.

RYAN (CONT’D)

(into the mouthpiece)

Houston, you’re coming in over the AM

frequency. Please confirm identity.

Fragmented words emerge through the static.

TRANSMISSION:

Han... ni... ts...

She turns the dial slowly, clinging desperately to the wavering

thread of communication.

RYAN:

Repeat. This is Mission Specialist

Ryan Stone from STS-157. Do you copy?

Words BURST FORTH, ringing clear as a bell for a moment.

TRANSMISSION:

Hannik ya itc... pini.

Ryan blinks. The transmission is not in English.

RYAN:

Is this the Chinese Station? Is this

Tiangong? Copy?

As she tunes in a faint voice is distinguished. It doesn’t

appear to be in Chinese either.

RYAN (CONT’D)

Do you speak English?

TRANSMISSION:

Hannic ya itcitem pini!

RYAN:

S.O.S. Do you understand?

TRANSMISSION:

Uumaruq taigaa!

RYAN:

Mayday! Can you copy? Mayday! Mayday!

The voice on the transmission appears to be a man in a very

jovial mood. He keeps laughing.

TRANSMISSION:

Mayday!

RYAN:

Yes! Mayday! Mayday!

TRANSMISSION:

Mayday! Aningang!

RYAN:

Aningang?

TRANSMISSION:

Mayday, Aningang! Aningang, Mayday!

The HOARSE LAUGHING of an MAN rises through the STATIC.

RYAN:

(to herself)

Aningang...?

(then, realizing:)

Is that your name? Aningang is your

name?!

TRANSMISSION:

Aningang! Mayday! Suli, suli!

She starts to speak again but the glimmer of hope fades from her

face with the realization that this man does not understand her

plea.

RYAN:

No, Mayday’s not my name. I’m Stone,

Dr. Ryan Stone-- I need help.

TRANSMISSION:

Mayday! Ieukpalliktuq uumaruq taigaa

naabuqtuq.

A noise in the background makes Ryan smile.

RYAN:

(softly)

Dogs...

(into headset)

Are those dogs? Those are dogs! Are

you calling from Earth?!

The barking of several dogs can be heard behind the man’s voice.

She GRINS.

She listens to the man’s laughing voice, shakes her head

helplessly and sighs.

RYAN (CONT’D)

Where are you, Aningang? Is the sun

out? Are there birds? Are there trees?

Can you smell the ocean?

TRANSMISSION:

Ieukpalliktuq naabuqtuq.

RYAN:

Is it beautiful where you are? Here

it’s colder than hell and lonelier

than sh*t, but it’s beautiful

Aningang. Utterly, terrifyingly

beautiful.

Through THE PORTHOLE

Even under the darkness of night, it is possible to see the

glaciers spreading over the green forests. It all looks so fresh

and full of life.

RYAN (CONT’D)

Make your dogs bark again, Aningang.

Will you? Please...

TRANSMISSION:

Suli aasrivak aatqatik niuruq...?

RYAN:

Dogs! Woof. Woof. Woof.

She makes barking noises. The man begins to laugh and barks back

at her.

TRANSMISSION:

Auuu. Auuu. Oipmiq. Oipmiq! Auuu.

Auuu.

Ryan and Aningang bark in unison.

RYAN:

Woof. Woof.

TRANSMISSION:

Auuu... Auuu...

RYAN AND TRANSMISSION

Auuu. Auuu. Woof. Woof.

Ryan begins to HOWL, giving in to the mad joy of it all.

Moments later, through the RADIO, she is joined by a CHORUS of

CANINES--Aningang’s DOGS--TUNING INTO HER VOICE in a mad, crazy

harmonic cacophony. Ryan smiles, blissfully happy, howling with

abandon.

Each howling reaches deeper and is more cathartic, unlocking

emotions that have been festering over time, and-

TEARS ROLL FROM HER EYES, clear as crystals, spilling from her

lashes and floating INTO THE AIR, glimmering LIKE SAPPHIRES in

the cool moonlight.

They float away, like tiny satellites orbiting her face.

Aningang can be heard intermittently, YELLING, as if trying to

silence the dogs. Then the dogs, one by one, cease their wailing

and Ryan is left with nothing but her own voice.

She stops, gazing at her tears suspended in the gloomy blue

light.

RYAN:

I’m going to die, Aningang.

The SIGNAL ebbs, losing its battle with the STATIC.

RYAN (CONT’D)

I mean, we’re all going to die.

Everyone knows that. But I’m going to

die today...

The STATIC waffles in and out.

RYAN (CONT’D)

Funny that. To know.

The STATIC breaks and Aningang’s HUSKY VOICE begins SINGING.

RYAN (CONT’D)

And you know what Aningang... I don’t

care. I don’t care if I die. I don’t

have anything... not anymore.

Ryan is floating now over her seat.

RYAN (CONT’D)

But the thing is... I’m still scared.

I’m really scared...

She rolls in space and stares upwards...

RYAN (CONT’D)

No one will mourn me. No one will pray

for my soul. Will you mourn me,

Aningang? Is it too late to say a

prayer? I’d say one for myself, but I

have never prayed in my life... no one

ever taught me how...

The tune is lyrical and soothing, tinged with a touch of

melancholy.

RYAN (CONT’D)

No one ever taught me how...

Ryan listens to Aningang’s melody and smiles softly, closing her

eyes.

Ryan’s face grows slack as she drifts toward unconsciousness,

buoyed along on Aningang’s sad soulful song. Then...

...a SPUTTERING CRY cuts through the static.

A BABY.

Ryan’s eyes pop open.

RYAN (CONT’D)

A baby. There’s a baby with you.

A beat. Aningang stops singing, speaking in a soft voice:

TRANSMISSION:

Ieukpalliktuq upatimi...

RYAN:

You are singing to your baby? Is that

a lullaby? That’s so sweet!

Ryan is transfixed, listening to the gentle gurgle of the baby

as Aningang coos to it, then begins to SING again.

RYAN (CONT’D)

I used to sing to my baby too.

Painful memories flash before her, haunting her. Ryan’s lump in

her throat is washed away by a gentle sob.

RYAN (CONT’D)

I hope I see her soon.

She reaches for a valve and opens it.

A HIZZING sound is heard inside the vessel, and-

ON THE SCREEN-

The Oxygen in the cabin’s atmosphere begins to drop.

SHE TURNS OFF THE LIGHT.

Ryan closes her eyes, simply listening to the lullaby as it

grows fainter...

RYAN (CONT’D)

(growing ever drowsier)

That’s nice. Keep singing, Aningang,

just like that. Sing me to sleep. I’ll

sleep and sleep and sleep. Sing to me,

Aningang... sing...sing....

The transmission grows fainter...

...and fainter...

...and then is...

...gone.

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