Total Recall Page #22

TRENT Initially this was merely routine, you understand. We attempted

to determine its compatibility with terrestrial DNA.

FOX What kind of DNA exactly, Doctor?

TRENT Human, of course.

Something shivers and shakes and takes form in the cube of light: a

double helix threaded with green and red beads of light.

TRENT (continuing) Watch closely, please.

The alien genetic material looks like a cubist's vision of an art deco

staircase, its asymmetrical segments glowing Day-glo green and purple.

ROSETTI That's a biological structure? More like part of a machine...

The alien form makes contact with the human DNA. The transformation is

shockingly swift, but its stages can still be followed: the thing seems

to pull itself into and through the coils, and for an instant the two

are meshed, locked, and then the final stage. A new shape glows, a

hybrid; the green and red beads have been altered beyond recognition.

FOX Like a high-speed viral takeover...! What's the real-time duration

on this, Trent?

TULLY (from the shadows beyond the glowing cube) That was it. What you

see is what you get. That's how fast it is...

INT. ANCHORPOINT -- MACHINE SHOP

Hicks enters the cavernous shop, dodging out of the way of an emerging

power- loader. The place is an oily forest of steel; machines of

various kinds await repair. WALKER is at a workbench, a big man in a

grease-stained vest.

HICKS Hicks. Temporary duty assignment.

Walker works the joystick on a handheld remote control unit. An

unmanned power-loader comes to life and lumbers toward the bench. He

brings it to a halt expertly, exactly where he wants it, with few

casual twiddles of the stick.

WALKER Walker. Know how to blow out the hydraulic lines on a force-

feedback system?

HICKS No.

WALKER Never too late to learn.

He offers Hicks a cigarette, lights it for him with a micro-torch from

the bench.

WALKER (continuing) You off the mystery ship, Hicks?

HICKS Sulaco? What's the mystery?

WALKER (lighting his own cigarette) Popular question. Whole thing's

triple-classified now and word's getting around that two of the deck

party never came back.

HICKS (shrugs) I was iced.

WALKER Sure...

HICKS You ready to show me his feedback system?

WALKER (eyes Hicks narrowly) Anytime.

INT. OPS ROOM

PAN along Jackson's multi-screen array in Operations, video images of

various Anchorpoint locales: space-suited figure and robot welders

making routine hull repairs.

HIGH ANGLE -- THE MALL

A buzzer SOUNDS. Screen directly in front of Jackson displays:

INCOMING TRANSMISSION SOURCE: U.P.P. RODINA DIPLOMATIC INCRYPT>>>

>>>DIPL CORPS SHUMAN

Jackson bobs her head, moving the cursor-cap to various "windows" on

the screen.

JACKSON (speaking into headset mike) Somebody find me Shuman -- tell

his we got incoming Rodina coded standard diplomatic. His opposite

number must've decided it's time for the weekly bullshit session...

INT. ANTI-BUGGING BUBBLE

Shuman is seated alone at the round table. A miniature video camera is

set up on the table. Opposite him is a large wall screen displaying an

image of the U.P.P. Diplomatic Officer, also alone, seated at the far

end of the narrow table in the Rodina conference room.

SHUMAN Androids, by law, are afforded the status of persons. Citizens.

DIPLOMATIC OFFICER Under your system, yes. We prefer to afford them the

status of machines.

SHUMAN You're holding one of our citizens captive.

DIPLOMATIC OFFICER The "citizen" in question, the synthetic, Bishop,

has been held in regard to a treaty violation involving an armed

vessel.

SHUMAN Sulaco was homing on Anchorpoint. The so-called violation was

the result of a malfunction.

DIPLOMATIC OFFICER The matter is under investigation.

SHUMAN I repeat:
you are holding one of our citizens.

DIPLOMATIC OFFICER The incident is also being investigated with regards

to an apparent violations of the Strategic Arms Reductions treaty.

SHUMAN Sulaco's weapons-systems fall entirely within the prescribed --

DIPLOMATIC OFFICER I refer to those sections of the treaty concerned

with

biological warfare.

Beat. The U.P.P. Diplomat has just scored, but Shuman maintains his

poise.

SHUMAN The allegation is false.

DIPLOMATIC OFFICER We make no official allegations at this time. The

matter remains under investigation. Bishop, however, is of no further

use in the

inquiry. We are returning him to you.

EXT. ANCHORPOINT -- SHUTTLE BAY -- A U.P.P. SHUTTLE

docking. They bay closes behind it. (V.O.: STATIC, VOICES of

Anchorpoint docking crew.)

INT. SHUTTLE BAY

Shuman and two Marines enter the bay. They wear biohazard envelopes,

masks. The shuttle's hatch opens and the Vietnamese Commando steps out.

Bishop emerges. He looks at the Commando, then at Shuman and the

Marines waiting at the bottom of the gangway. The Commando gestures:

go.

SHUMAN You're under quarantine orders, Bishop. (to the Marines) Escort

him to MedLab.

INT. THE MALL

Hicks has just come off shift; the Mall's bar catches his eye. The

facade says it all: ye olde pre-packaged genuine simulated wood-grain

generic tavern and the only joint in town.

One wall is a screen showing a stale rerun of a Brazilian soccer match.

Some of the customers play hologram game-consoles. Tully is seated at

the bar. Hicks takes a stool beside him.

HICKS Beer.

He fishes his dog tags out and detaches one, passes it to the

bartender; the bartender inserts it in a terminal, rings up the beer,

hands it back.

TULLY You're Hicks. Sulaco...

Tully, in his trademark jacket, is obviously drunk.

HICKS Who're you?

TULLY Tully. Tech Five. Tissue lab. D-f***ing-NA. Jesus... Sulaco...

Lucky.

HICKS Lucky? Who? You lucky, man?

TULLY You. You're one lucky sonofabitch, Hicks.

Knocks back his drink.

HICKS How's that?

TULLY All that way. All the way back here with those... Those f***ing

things, man...

Tully has just gotten his sudden, undivided attention.

HICKS Things? What things?

TULLY Sh*t... We had to sign. All of us. Lose our f***ing shares we

tell anybody, right?

HICKS (his whole body tense) They were on the ship...

TULLY Yeah. Jesus. I saw 'em...

Reaches for his glass, but it's empty.

HICKS Where? How many? When?

TULLY (Suddenly remembering his shares) Look, I... (cuts a glance

around the bar) Bad place to talk... I gotta go now, leave...

HICKS (grabbing Tully before he can slide off the stool) You aren't

going

anywhere, buddy.

Tully, sudden energy, not so much at Hicks as at his whole situation:

TULLY I didn't come out here to work on sh*t like that. Came out here

to help design ecosystems, not build designer for the next year... You

want an earful? You got it. Shift after next, place called DP-54,

Level 7 map. Can't talk here...

He twists out of Hick's grip and into the crowd.

Hicks sits at the bar, staring at his untouched beer.

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