Sphere Page #7

Barnes holds out his gun, and enters. The others behind him.

TED:

Strange, isn't it? You know -- how

it would have a button.

NORMAN:

Earth doesn't have a patent on

buttons, Ted.

TED:

Still, make a note I recognized that.

ON BARNES - leading them through a small hall. It seems to be opening

up into some sort of room -- when Barnes stops. Dead in his tracks.

TED:

What's wrong?

BARNES:

(serious)

What do you make of this?

ON NORMAN - as he steps around Barnes, his light BRIGHTENING on: A

SIGN that reads:
"Trash."

TED:

(softly)

What the hell?

Very softly, Harry begins to laugh.

TED:

English?

HARRY:

That's right.

Norman looks up and SEES more of the room as his light SHINES

throughout it:
TABLES, COUCHES and CHAIRS -- made of leather, very

comfortable looking.

They begin to slowly wander about...

BETH:

I don't get it.

TED:

It doesn't make any sense.

HARRY:

You don't think it does? I think

it's rather obvious.

TED:

Is it some sort of joke? Like one of

those hoaxes?

HARRY:

A spacecraft half a mile long --

with 500 tonnes of coral on top of

it? Someone went to a lot of

trouble. Try again.

TED:

But it's impossible.

HARRY:

Is it?

Beth touches the table, it's metal, but it's soft and rubbery.

TED:

Why would this ship carry

instructions in English?

HARRY:

Think about it.

TED:

Unless, this alien spacecraft was --

you know -- somehow presenting

itself to Americans in a way that

would make us feel comfortable.

NORMAN:

400 years ago? I'm sure Christopher

Columbus would've loved these

accomodations.

BETH:

Good theory, Ted.

TED:

Well, what's your theory?

BETH:

I'm a woman. I don't theorize. I

only deal with facts.

HARRY:

All the facts you need are right in

front of you.

TED:

Gimme a minute here...I think I've

got it.

HARRY:

Do you?

TED:

If it is an alien spacecraft --

HARRY:

Save your breath. It's not an alien

spacecraft.

BETH:

Then what is it?

HARRY:

(beat)

It's an American spacecraft.

TED:

An American spacecraft? Half a mile

long? And buried 400 years? Yeah,

good theory, Harry.

HARRY:

It's been obvious from the start,

hasn't it, Captain? That's why all

the secrecy, why no one was told

about it?

BARNES:

We had considered it.

TED:

Considered what? That it's American?

How would you think it's American?

HARRY:

The chip in the door.

ON NORMAN - glancing up at Harry...

HARRY:

We take a weeny little wedge, bang

on it a couple of times, and bust

off a chunk of the metal. Yet any

spacecraft -- even at a low

velocity, say 200 miles an hour --

crashes into the water -- it's gonna

be like hitting concrete, it would

crumple like paper. But there isn't

a dent to be seen anywhere. Not even

a scratch.

TED:

Meaning?

HARRY:

Meaning it didn't land in the water.

TED:

Please. It must have flown here --

HARRY:

It didn't fly here. It arrived here.

TED:

Arrived? From where?

HARRY:

Not where. When. 400 years ago. From

our future.

A quiet moment as they take this in.

INT. SPACECRAFT - DEEPER INSIDE

Ted and Barnes trek through a vast cargo bay, like two ants wlth

flashlights.

TED:

Time travel. I always thought it was

one of those myths...like Santa's

reindeer.

BARNES:

What would we be working on in the

future that would make us want to

come back?

TED:

Maybe we didn't want to come back.

BACK IN - THE ROOM

Norman, Harry, and Beth...

BETH:

What are you looking for?

HARRY:

A light switch. A button opened that

door -- the craft runs on some sort

of power.

ON NORMAN - as he sits down in one of the CHAIRS.

BETH:

What's that noise?

They LISTEN to a GIRGLING NOISE.

NORMAN:

Sounds a little like water --

SUDDENLY -- the chair Norman's in -- wraps around him, squeezing him

inside, padding sliding around his head, his shoulders enveloping him

-- sucking him inside...

BETH:

Norman!

NORMAN:

Get this thing off me.

Beth bends down, presses a button, the CHAIR releases Norman...

BETH:

I think the chair thinks you want to

fly this thing.

ON BETH's FACEPLATE - as she's looking down -- WE BEGIN TO SEE --

reflected in her faceplate: yellow digital lettering sputtering

across...

"RV-LHOOQ...DCOM1..."

Her EYES look up slowly...as we

CUT TO:

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