Leviathan Page #13

Doc and Sixpack. Doc takes a blood sample, seals it and

opens a cabinet under the sink where a supply of blood is

stored in a refrigerated unit. The plastic bags of blood

are labeled with the various crew members' names.

Sixpack watches him from the examination table. He is

shivering violently and scared.

SIXPACK:

(he's losing it)

Please, Doc...I'm cold...I hurt...

We see a change in Doc's demeanor. He is suddenly needed

and it has touched something in him and we see him rising to

the challenge.

DOC:

I'm just going to take a tiny

piece of skin to look at under

the microscope...Afterwards I'll

give you a sedative.

Skillfully Doc takes a skin sample. Sixpack screams.

VIEW THROUGH THE MICROSCOPE

An enlarged view of the cells in alarmingly hyperactivity.

We see it literally spreading before our eyes.

ON DOC:

He leans back from the microscope. There is awe on his face

for the first time since first year medical studies--and

there is fear of the unknown. He looks over his shoulder at

Sixpack, his shivering has stopped, he lies still on the

table.

UNDERWATER:

Lights move in the blackness, but there is an order to the

actions and a crispness to the voices. People doing work

that is moving sharply. Pride in what they're doing.

DEJESUS:

Okay, number 23's full.

BECK:

Let's get it out of here and

bring in a new one.

JONES:

Yes sir...

BOWMAN:

Hook's on 24...

BECK:

Let's have her...

The Container transporters fill with compressed air and lift

the container as the miners guide it to the track...

INT. INFIRMARY/ SHACK - SAME

Doc is at the console of his computer. As words appear on

the screen, obviously in response to his query...

"...would appear to indicate a virus of unknown origin..."

Doc shakes his head disgustedly.

DOC:

(to himself)

No kidding? "A virus of

unknown origin." Come on and

tell me something I don't know...

like what's going on...

ON SCREEN:

More words come up. "...no idea..."

DOC(cont'd)

(typing, angrily)

Then take a guess, goddamnit!

He finishes typing and waits for an answer. The cursor

flashes the word "PROCESSING". Then an answer comes up.

"Genetic Alteration?" The words send a chill down Doc's

spine.

SWAMP ROOM - LATER

The mood is happy. Like a high school football locker room

after a winning game. DeJesus climbs out of his suit and

slaps Beck on the shoulder.

DEJESUS:

Good work out there, Mr. Becky.

Beck, obviously pleased, looks at the others. Jones sums up

the feelings of the entire group.

JONES:

Thank you, sir.

Beck's grin suddenly disappears at the sight of a flashing

red light over the intercom.

INFIRMARY - LATER

Beck is standing in the doorway of the Infirmary, glaring at

Doc, who sits with his bottle of Old Granddad.

BECK:

Dead? This morning you said

he had some skin disorder.

DOC:

He did.

BECK:

Well, how the hell does a

skin rash kill you in eight

hours?!

Doc looks at Beck wearily and hands him a mask.

DOC:

Here. Put this on. You examine

him.

BECK:

I'm not a doctor.

DOC:

For this...you don't need to be.

Beck hesitates, then puts on the mask.

SICK ROOM:

As Beck enters, masked, Sixpack's back is to him under the

sheets. Slowly he pulls back the sheet and recoils from the

sight. The black splotches have nearly all grown together.

His fingers have lengthened and become more webbed. Most

dramatically the sores on the sides of his neck have become

flared and elongated. Though not bleeding, the open veins

are visible.

INFIRMARY:

Doc pours some bourbon in a glass, and takes a sip. Beck

enters dazed from the sick room and their eyes meet.

BECK:

The mask is because you think

it might be...catching?

DOC:

I don't know. I've been back

and forth with Narragansett Naval

all day, consulting with the best

people in maritime medicine, the

best people in viruses...

BECK:

(impatiently)

And?

DOC:

And they didn't believe the

symptoms I described...

BECK:

(beat)

Why Sixpack?

DOC:

It could be a million things,

something in the air, food....

(he looks up and

locks eyes with Beck)

But he went on that ship and so

did Williams...

(beat)

I want to examine the crew.

BECK:

(still in shock)

Yeah...right...

He starts to the door and Doc watches him.

DOC:

I've reported the death to

the company.

INT. THE MESS - SAME

The mess is quiet. All eyes are down. Sixpack's absence is

noticeable.

JONES:

"Routine," my ass! Ain't nothin'

"routine" about no physical check-

up 10,000 feet down...especially

when we're getting picked up the

next day!

COBB:

He didn't say it was a "routine

check-up," he said it was a "routine

precaution."

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