Total Recall Page #35

Behind them, the airlock remain open, spilling light...

EXT. HULL -- LONG SHOT

Three tiny figures, their helmets bright dots of color against the

monotone hull-plain: red, blue, green.

VOICE OVER:
Steady rasp of human breath.

EXT. HULL -- ANOTHER ANGLE -- LONG

Shadows tangle in the light from the lock. Moving. Black talons slip

over the hatch rim, followed by an eyeless Alien mask. Then another.

The creatures are entirely unaffected by cold, by vacuum...

EXT. HULL -- APPROACH TO LIFEBOAT BAYS

Hicks, Spence, Jackson. Hicks gestures with his rifle: the prows of the

boats.

HICKS (filter; suit radio) There you go, Ops.

JACKSON (filter; suit radio) Good navigating...

HICKS (filter; suit radio) Good guessing. Still have to get into one of

the damn things...

Spence loses her footing as she climbs down a ledge, goes into a slow-

motion, zero-g roll; Jackson grabs her.

EXT. HULL -- SHOT FROM UNLIT LIFEBOAT INTERIOR THROUGH A PORTHOLE

Hicks is approaching. Closer. His gloves on the porthole. His helmet-

bubble CLICKS against it. The beam of his light stabs in, swings from

side to side, blinks out.

EXT. HULL -- LIFEBOAT BAYS

Hicks straightens up from the porthole.

HICKS (filter; suit radio) Looks good. Good as it gets. How the hell we

get in?

JACKSON (filter; suit radio) I can run a bypass on the hatch latches,

but I need a hotwire...

SPENCE (filter; suit radio; starting to climb up the side of the boat)

I can strip some cable off the solar cells...

HICKS (filter; suit radio) Open it that way and we lose the air.

JACKSON (filter; suit radio) We'll have to draw the backup off the

tanks. Won't matter once we're in hypersleep. No other way...

EXT. TOP OF LIFEBOAT

Spence's POV for helmet as the crouches over a flat, rectangular solar

cells and tugs with her gloves tips at a small access port. She keeps

losing her grip; the space suit's gloves aren't designed for fine

work.

SPENCE (filter; suit radio; talking to keep her head together) Like the

science fair. I had to scrounge everything... Spent a month desoldering

a TV I got out of my uncle's basement...

She manages to get the cover off -- it tumbles backward -- upward --

with the momentum on its removal. Spence peers at a densely packed

mass of color-coded wiring.

SPENCE (continuing; filter; suit radio) Hey, Jackson, you want anything

in particular?

JACKSON (filter; suit radio) How about twenty centimeters of the red

and green stuff?

Spence begins to fumble with the wiring.

SPENCE (filter; suit radio) Right. Want anything else while I'm here?

JACKSON (filter; suit radio) Coffee and a danish. Black, one sugar.

EXT. HULL -- LIFEBOAT

Hicks and Jackson are trying to open the larger accessport, this one

beside a porthole set into a rectangular hatch in the bow of the

lifeboat. It isn't easy. Hicks manages to hook the pulse-rifle's

buttplate under the edge of the cover. He uses the barrel as a lever.

The buttplate slips.

HICKS (filter; suit radio) Sh*t.

He tries again. The cover pops open: move wiring, hydraulics. Jackson

begins to paw at the wiring.

EXT. TOP OF LIFEBOAT

Spence's POV as she looks down at her prize, a length of red and green

wire.

SPENCE (filter; suit radio) They're out of coffee, but I got you

hotwire...

Spence's POV as she glances up, across the hull -- and sees a dozen

advancing Aliens.

SPENCE (continuing; filter; suit radio) Hicks! They're coming! They

don't need suits!

EXT. HULL -- LIFEBOAT

Hicks whirls around with the rifle, too quick a move for zero-g;

momentum spins him around and he rolls, out past the prow, but manages

to come up SHOOTING. Take out the two foremost Aliens at about twenty

yards. The rest scuttle for cover.

EXTREME CLOSEUP:

on ammo readout:
09.

ANGLE:

Hicks gets to his feet, take a step back, and nearly tumbles again;

he's bumped into another emergency airlock, this one still sealed. He

climbs back across it and crouches against the raised housing, using

it to steady his aim. The Aliens charge again. Five SHOTS, five Aliens

blown apart. The rest get out of sight.

EXTREME CLOSEUP:

on ammo readout:
04.

ANGLE:

Six inches from Hick's faceplate, on the airlock hatch, a red light

blinks on. The lock starts to open. Hicks scrambles back, the rifle

ready at his hip, as the hatch opens -- and a space-suited figure

straightens up, a yellow helmet...

CLOSEUP -- HICKS -- REACTION SHOT

HICKS (filter; suit radio; an instant of profound confusion) Rosett...?

ANGLE:

The Aliens charge. The figure turns, bringing up a pulse-rifle.

CLOSEUP ON BISHOP -- THROUGH FACEPLATE

as he hoses a full clip in to the Aliens, killing them all.

BISHOP (filter; suit radio) Hicks, help me out of the lock...

ANGLE:

Hicks takes Bishop's arm and hauls him over the rim; the android's left

leg is braced with the length of metal from the elevator, strapped to

the space suit with heavy silver tape.

HICKS (filter; suit radio) What happened? You didn't blow the fusion

back at twenty-two hundred,

Bishop passes him a fresh clip of ammunition.

BISHOP (filter; suit radio) Two overload is scheduled for twenty-two-

thirty.

HICKS (filter; suit radio) Why?

BISHOP (filter; suit radio) I thought you might need the time.

JACKSON (filter; suit radio) Bishop? Hick! Come on, we gotta get his

happening!

Hicks help Bishop across the hull.

EXT. HULL -- LIFEBOAT

CLOSEUP on Spence and Jackson crouching by the open service port.

They've made a rainbow spaghetti out of the port's wiring, but Jackson

holds one raw end of the hotwire. Spence looks up as Hicks and Bishop

arrive.

SPENCE (filter; suit radio) What happened to you leg?

BISHOP (filter; suit radio) Molecular fatigue.

HICKS (filter; suit radio) Bishop says we gotta go now.

JACKSON (filter; suit radio) No sh*t... Well...

She thrusts the hotwire against a contact, producing a burst of sparks.

Nothing happens.

Tries again.

Nothing.

JACKSON (continuing; filter; suit radio) Third time's a charm.

A bigger burst of sparks. The hatch suddenly pops open with a rush of

escaping AIR.

JACKSON (continuing; filter; suit radio) How damn! Okay!

Jackson ducks, wedges helmet and shoulder through the opening -- and a

queen- sized stinger erupts through the back of her neck, slicing the

suit's alloy collar ring like butter. Brief but horrible SOUND on

radio.

SPENCE (filter; suit radio) Jackson!

Jackson's being drawn into the opening by the unseen queen. Spence

clutches furiously at Jackson's suit, trying to pull her back...

HICKS (filter; suit radio) Forget it! She's gone!

BISHOP (filter; suit radio) Hicks!

Hicks and Spence turn. REACTION SHOT. What they see makes her forget

trying to save Jackson's body.

The boots of Jackson's space suit vanishes through the lifeboat hatch.

A queen, her crest rising against the stars, leads the swarm against

them in a solid wave...

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