Total Recall Page #36

Hicks pumps the pulse-rifle's grenade launcher, sheer reflex, no

consideration for the effect of recoil in zero-g (pulse-charges have

been assumed to be

recoilless). The recoil kick him back against the lifeboat as the BLAST

takes out five of the charging Aliens; sharp CLANG of his helmet

against the boat's hull.

CLOSE THROUGH FACEPLACE

Hicks losing consciousness.

ANGLE:

Bishop stands alone against the advancing swarm, the boot of his locked

suitleg wedge into a narrow channel in the hull. He FIRES with a

robotic accuracy, the rifle pivoting like the barrel of an automated

gun turret.

CLOSE ON BISHOP'S EXPRESSION

No anger, no fear -- just total absorption in the task at hand.

ANGLE:

Spence had Hicks' gun, is dragging him to his feet.

EXTREME CLOSEUP:

on Bishop's ammo readout: working down to 01, steady as seconds on a

stopwatch --

ANGLE:

His last round is for the towering queen -- Android's don't miss.

Straight into the jaws. Her head explodes.

But the headless body doesn't stop. It stumbles, tumbling forward,

flips over, the vast abdomen with its lashing stinger outlined agasint

the stars...

As Bishop tugs his wedged foot free and rolls, as the stinger whips

down to gouge a chunk of bright steel from the hull. The carcass

smashed into the lifeboat. The swarm twitches, hesitates. With the

loss of the queen's unifying intelligence, the Aliens are reduced to

their usual level of instinctual action.

HICKS (filter; suit radio) Bishop! Come on!

Hicks, with Spence, is fleeing across the hull, taking long zero-g

leaps -- one more worries about drifting away!

SPENCE (filter; suit radio) The mast, Bishop! The Radio mast!

Bishop starts after them, abandoning his empty pulse-rifle, trying to

bound along on his good leg, the stiff one obviously in his way, three

Aliens rapidly gaining on him. He loses his balance...

Hicks and Spence have almost reached the foot of the radio mast.

Handholds lead out to the tip.

Hicks sees Bishop struggling to right himself, the Aliens closing in.

Snatches the rifle from Spence.

HICKS (filter; suit radio; to Spence) Go on! Get out there!

Hicks recrosses the hull to Bishop. SHOOTS the nearest Alien, gets a

grip on Bishop's suit, pulls him up, tries for the second Alien but

misses. They start for the mast, Hicks FIRING back at the swarm.

Spence is a third of the way out on the mast, body drifting in space,

clinging to a handhold.

Hick and Bishop haul themselves hand-over-hand along the mast.

BISHOP (filter; suit radio) The fusion package, Hicks... Overload...

HICKS (filter; suit radio) Yeah... But it means we win... Come on.

The swarm closes around the foot of the mast in a single writhing mass.

One spring onto the handholds and scuttles out along the mast like a

spider.

Hicks BLOWS it off.

EXTREME CLOSEUP:

on ammo readout:
04.

BISHOP (filter; suit radio) Four minutes to overload.

ANGLE:

Hicks blasts another Alien -- as a deafening SQUAWK of feedback rattles

the suit radios, followed by a waves of STATIC.

EXT. SPACE

The U.P.P. interceptor, pitted and scorched by the nuking of Rodina,

settles toward Anchorpoint on steering jets.

CLOSEUP ON A GUNPORT

sliding smoothly open, reveal the vicious-looking snout of a Gatling-

style pulse-cannon.

EXT. MAST -- FROM HICKS' POV

as a stream of withering fire cuts a swathe thorough the swarming

Aliens.

VIETNAMESE COMMANDO (V.O.) (filter; over static and screaming

harmonics) Come! You come!

Followed by a frantic burst in her own language.

EXT. SPACE -- FROM MAST

Spence's POV as the interceptor nears the mast tip, the cannon still

pumping. The airlock in the interceptor's lower surface slides open.

Light from inside.

Spence kicks off from the mast, manages to grab the rim of the

interceptor's airlock.

Hicks FIRES his last round into an Alien on the mast.

The interceptor still coming down, crumpling the tip of the mast in a

burst of sparks as Hicks and Bishop kick off. Hicks grabs Spence's free

hand; Bishop grabs Hick's ankle. Spence hauls them all into the

cramped space of the airlock. The lock closes as an Alien launches

itself from the mast...

INT. INTERCEPTOR AIRLOCK

SOUND of the Alien as it slams into the lock. Hicks, Bishop, Spence are

crammed in like sardines.

EXT. INTERCEPTOR LOCK

The Alien scrabbling furiously for a hold...

INT. INTERCEPTOR

As the inner lock opens and the commando plunges her tattooed arms in

to yank Spence free. Spence fumbles with her helmet and snaps it off.

Bishop pulls himself from the lock; in spite of his leg, he dives for

the ship's controls. His hands dart from one switchboard to the next.

Nothing happens. He look up through his faceplate at the commando.

BISHOP (voice muffled by his helmet) Go!

She looks at him impassively. Beat. Then reaches past to press a

sequence of three buttons.

EXT. SPACE

The interceptor. The Aliens cluster like aphids along the mast. The

interceptor's ENGINES erupt in a gout of flame.

EXT. SPACE -- ANOTHER ANGLE

The Alien on the airlock loses its grip, tumbles into the rocket blast.

EXT. ANCHORPOINT -- INTERCEPTOR'S POV

The station is receding

The fusion package goes overload.

WHITEOUT. Beat.

FADE TO BLACK.

FADE IN:

A SINGLE STAR:

Then another star. Then the interceptor, adrift, showing no lights.

EXT. INTERCEPTOR -- ANOTHER ANGLE

Additional damage visible from the Anchorpoint blast.

INT. INTERCEPTOR

Dim light. The commando is slumped against a wall of dead switches,

watching Bishop. Hick, Spence, and Bishop wear their space suits, minus

helmets and air tanks. Bishop is bending over a panel of exposed

circuitry, working with a delicate probe. His suit is open to the

waist; he wears a miniature worklight on a band across his forehead.

Spence is asleep, her head on Hicks'lap.

HICKS Bishop...

Bishop looks up, the beam of the worklight glaring in Hicks' eyes.

BISHOP Yes?

HICKS Bishop, are Spence and I... I mean... Are we infected, man?

A small steady tone SOUNDS, muffled inside Bishop's suit. He puts the

probe down and reaches into his suit, bringing out his wristwatch.

He looks at the time. The tone stops. He puts the watch down an looks

at Hicks. Beat.

BISHOP No, you aren't. I obtained solid parameters on the incubation

period... Neither of you is a carrier. Neither is she. (glancing toward

the commando) Although I couldn't be certain until...

HICKS Your watch? Until you watch went off?

BISHOP Yes.

Bishop reaches into his suit again and brings out a service automatic.

The commando says something angrily, wearily, in her own language.

Bishop hands her the gun. She tosses it aside with evident disgust,

curls up, eyes closed.

HICKS That was for us? If we were...

BISHOP Yes. (he looks at the commando again) She's dying, Hicks.

Radiation poisoning...

HICKS Can we do anything?

BISHOP No.

Spence groans in her sleep. Hicks absently smoothes her hair back from

her eyes.

BISHOP You're a species again, Hicks. United against a common enemy...

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