Total Recall Page #21

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. TISSUE CULTURE LAB

Tully at the controls of a pair of high-tech servo-manipulators visible

through the tick glass of an ultra-heavy duty rectangular tank. The

controls are gloves. A cable leads from the wrist of each glove to the

face of the tanks. Tully move his hands, testing. The skeletal steels

waldos inside the tank mimic each move. He uses them to open the

canister. An electronic microscope is built into the tank, its monitor

just above the window. He positions the probe's tip under the

microscope.

ANGLE OVER TOP OF MONITOR

for his reaction.

TULLY Spence... What is this? Where did it come from?

Spence strolls up behind his with a cup of coffee, a pen tucked behind

her ear.

SPENCE C'mon, Charlie, don't you read the spec sheets anymore? It's off

the shop. Off your transport. It's... God.

SPENCE'S POV -- CLOSE ON THE MONITOR

The tip of the probe is encased in a sheath of glittering back

filigree.

ANGLE:

SPENCE Up the rez...

Tully taps a lapboard; magnifications increases by twenty powers.

EXTREME CLOSEUP -- MONITOR

As the screen fills with an image that might be a bizarre landscape,

its lines and textures recalling the interior of the derelict ship in

"ALIEN."

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. ECO-MODULE

An experimental pocket Eden: a half-acre of artfully ragged concrete

Disneyland into lush rainforest, sun-dappled miniature meadows, patches

of African cactus. Newt crouches in long grass, her hand extended

toward a small animal. A lemur. Hicks stands nearby.

NEWT Have you been there, Hicks? Africa?

HICKS Morocco. Four weeks of Basic. But was mountains. Not like this.

The lemur scoots away, spooked by his voice; Newt watches as it

scurries up a tree.

NEWT I'd like to go there...

HICKS No problem. You're going to Gateway station on Sulaco, right?

Then you catch a shuttle down and you're in Oregon. Just a jump over a

puddle, to Africa, once you're there.

Spence walks out of the miniature jungle, carrying a white wire tray of

samples in plastic lab bottles.

NEWT I don't remember them...

SPENCE Your grandparents?

Newt nods.

SPENCE (continuing) Well, guess they remember you. Sure.

NEWT But what if Ripley wakes up and I'm not here? Can't I wait?

HICKS Hey. She'll know where you're going, right? Anyway, Sulaco's the

only ship back to Gateway for two months. But look, you want to make

double sure, then you leave her a map, exactly where you're going...

Spence grins at Hicks.

INT. NEWT'S DORM CUBICLE

Newt at a fold-down desk, at work on an elaborate multicolor feltpen

starmap. A dotted line zigzags from Anchorpoint to Portland, Oregon.

She carefully prints her new address:

NEWT JORDEN c/o MR. & MRS. RICHARD JORDEN 34877 GREENLEAF AVE. #582 NEW

PORTLAND, OREGON AB994J2

Ripley wan and comatose. Hicks waits awkwardly in the doorway, dangling

Newt's knapsack, as she enters and tapes the finished starmap to the

wall; the first thing Ripley would see, waking. Newt beside the bed,

look down at her friend.

NEWT Ripley? Ripley, it's Newt. I... I gotta go now. I'm going to stay

with my grandparents, in Oregon. Hicks says that's a good place...

There's a map for you, Ripley, how to get there. You can come there

and stay with me, okay? You have to, okay?

Tears on her cheeks as Hicks puts his hand on her shoulder and they

leave the room.

INT. DEPARTURE BAY

Newt and Hicks amid a bustle of power-loaders, assorted robot vehicles.

They approach the entrance to a narrow corridor. Sign: DEPARTURE BAY --

CREW ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT.

HICKS That's you.

NEWT I know.

HICKS Good luck in Oregon.

He holds the red knapsack as she slips into the straps.

NEWT Hicks...

HICKS Yeah?

She look at him:
ghost of a grin. She gives him the thumbs-up sign.

NEWT Affirmative.

He returns the sign

HICKS Affirmative.

She turns and makes her way up the narrow boarding corridor. It's long,

tapers to nothing. Tiny figure, receding, bright dot of the knapsack.

She turns, waves. He waves back. She's gone.

EXT. ANCHORPOINT

Sulaco pulls away, begins to accelerate, dwindles against the stars.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. RODINA -- CONFERENCE CHAMBER

Cigarette-smoke drifts above a long narrow table in a narrow space. A

half- dozen ranking TECHNOCRATS are jammed along wither side in folding

chairs, with Colonel-Doctor Suslov at the head.

BRAUN (Rodina's chief of R&D) Obviously, Colonel Doctor, the purpose of

their mission was to obtain specimens of this lifeform. The android

dissected a single specimen. One of the pre-larval forms -- like the

thing that killed Lenko.

AN OFFICER And you believe that these creature are of potential

military importance?

BRAUN Yes, provided it's possible to clone the alien spores recovered

from the android's skin and clothing...

SUSLOV With the goal of programming these "machines" for use as

weapons?

BRAUN The adult form, Colonel-Doctor, is evidently a killing-machine of

great strength, extraordinary sophistication. No evidence of

intelligence. Purely instinctual.

INTELLIGENCE OFFICER Our sources in the corporationist infrastructure

are aware of the existence of a special project with Weyland-Yutani's

Weapons Division. We have been unable to penetrate their security...

SUSLOV The Intelligence Officer suggests that this special project

concerns the alien?

DIPLOMATIC OFFICER I remind you, Colonel-Doctor, that we experiment

with the alien genetic material only if we are prepared to violate

primary biological warfare limitations in the Strategic Arms Reduction

treaty...

BRAUN An I reminds the Diplomatic Officer that the Weyland Yutani

corporation is obviously prepared to do so -- that they may already be

doing so... As ever, our level of technology lags slightly behind that

of the capitalist cartels... But now, by chance --

MILITARY OFFICER By chance? You refer to the proven bravery and

constant initiative of our People's Commando Division --

BRAUN (smoothly, a seasoned political infighter covering his bases) Not

at all, Major. Their courage is unquestioned. Nonetheless, consider: we

are in possession of a potential weapon -- a whole new technology, if

you will -- which Weyland Yutani clearly intends to develop. We are

in, as they might put it, on the ground floor. But only if we choose

to be, if we choose to hold our advantage.

SUSLOV I agree. We have no choice but to proceed.

DIPLOMATIC OFFICER Then I go on record as strongly advising that the

android be returned to Anchorpoint. Are ourtechnicians capable of

repairing the thing?

BRAUN Repairing it? Why?

DIPLOMATIC OFFICER You lack a sense of the importance of gesture,

Braun. Let us avoid their customary accusations of barbarism... And

buy ourselves time...

SUSLOV Our technicians will repair the thing. Return it to them... And

we will proceed. We will clone the alien...

INT. ANCHORPOINT -- TISSUE CULTURE LAB

TRENT, head of BioLab, Rosetti, and Fox wait, seated, as Tully wheels a

Holographic Display Module into position. The lights dim. A faint,

ghostly cube shimmers in front of the three men.

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