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PLANET OF THE APES
Written by
Sam Hamm
FADE IN:
1. EXT. STARFIELD - NIGHT
A sprinkling of STARS against the black backdrop of endless space. We
TILT DOWN - down, through nothingness and more
nothingness, until -
BLAZING COLORS - reds, blues, sizzling whites - explode across the sky.
A SECOND BURST erupts - then a THIRD - and we
continue to TILT DOWN until a familiar sight dominates the screen:
2. THE STATUE OF LIBERTY
We're not in outer space after all - just New York City. Another round
of FIREWORKS lights up the sky, and off in the
distance we hear CHEERING. SUPER TITLE: 4 JULY 1998
3. EXT. TIMES SOUARE - NIGHT
Packed streets; the whole city seems to have turned out for the show.
Drunken revelers, tourists, hookers and
hustlers, cops on horseback - greeting each new pyrotechnic display
with WHOOPS of giddy hilarity.
4. EXT. BROOKLYN HEIGHTS - THE PROMENADE - NIGHT
Manhattan just across the harbor, Lady Liberty to the south. Young
COUPLES in love, FAMILIES with kids - they're all
lined up six deep at the Promenade railing, CLAPPING AND CHEERING.
5. EXT. ROOFTOP - SPANISH HARLEM - NIGHT
A dozen or so TEENAGE KIDS up on the roof, necking, smoking, drinking
beers, playing loud MUSIC - all GRINNING at the
fireworks. One of them LOOKS UPWARD at the sound of a far-off WHISTLING
. . .Suddenly, his face is BATHED in RED
LIGHT. A SCREAMING comes across the sky. A FIREBALL streaks down from
above . . .. . . and it stems to be coming
DIRECTLY TOWARD HIM! With a yelp of fear, he dives to the tar-and-
gravel surface of the roof. The other kids turn, SEE
WHATS COMING, and join him there.
2.
6. EXT. PROMENADE - THAT MOMENT
PANIC in the crowd as they see the fireball approaching. It looks as
though it's going to slam smack into Manhattan.
7. EXT. TIMES SOUARE - THAT MOMENT
CHAOS. PANDEMONIUM. Times Square turns the color of MOLTEN LAVA as the
fireball streaks past overhead, so close it
almost seems you could reach up and touch it. The cheers have given way
to hysteria ...
8. EXT. PROMENADE - THAT MOMENT
ALL SPECTATORS have now abandoned the Promenade. The sky's ablaze with
light. It's high noon - at midnight.
The FIREBALL slices downward from the clouds, clearing the Battery,
nearly shaving the top story off the World Trade Center. It slaps into
the
harbor with the percussive force of an exploding bomb.
9. EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT
THE KIDS ON THE ROOF, slackjawed at the light show. A beat - then they
begin WHOOPING and APPLAUDING WILDLY.
10. EXT. NEW YORK HARBOR - NIGHT
A vast, red-hot cloud of SCALDING STEAM rising from the water . . . and
spreading across the night sky until the
cityscape of Manhattan is completely obscured behind it. FADE THROUGH
TO:
11. EXT. NEW YORK HARBOR - DAY
The harbor is congested with ships. COAST GUARD CUTTERS; two
oceanographic RESEARCH VESSELS; a CONTAINER SHIP, half
again the size of the Exxon Valdez; and a FLOATING CRANE. MILITARY
HELICOP- TERS are circling lazily above it all.
The decks of the various vessels are swarming with people - not just
crewmen, but military observers, government
bureaucrats, civilians - and all eyes are on the CRANE as the chain
begins to rise.
A CHARRED, BLACK MASS breaks the surface of the water.
3.
It's no meteorite. It's a MACHINE - of inexplicably baroque design,
with ornate curlicues, filigree, nodules and
modules protruding in all directions. It looks not unlike a pair of
Sherman tanks joined together, Siamese-twin style,
at the cannon turrets. Or a flying Rorschach blot.
12. EXT. FISHING BOAT - THAT MOMENT - DAY
The disgruntled CAPTAIN of a ramshackle fishing boat is watching the
action with binoculars. His crew can't set sail
while the harbor's blocked, and they've already lost half a day's
catch.
CAPTAIN
That's a weather satellite?
One skeptical crewman is reading the Post. The page-one banner head-
line screams: "WEATHER SATELLITE NEARLY FLATTENS MANHATTAN"
FISHERMAN #1
They don't close off the whole harbor for no damn weather satellite.
13. EXT. HARBOR - ON FLOATING CRANE
The crane hoists its cargo high into the air and PIVOTS - swinging the
strange alien craft into position over the deck
of the CONTAINER SHIP.
14. INT. HOLD - CONTAINER SKIP - THAT MOMENT
TECHNICIANS in airtight SAFE SUITS are preparing a great plasticene
SHROUD. Once the craft has been lowered into the
ship, the shroud will be sealed around it, forming a sterile tent. No
one knows what they'll find inside the craft -
but they don't want it getting out prematurely.
15. EXT. DECK - CONTAINER SHIP - THAT MOMENT
A twelve-foot wall of SCAFFOLDING has been erected around the hold of
the ship. MORE SCIENTIFIC GEAR is mounted on it:
an X-ray machine, an ultrasound unit, a heat-sensing device, COAST
GUARDSMEN clamber up the scaffolding like monkeys, helping the CRANE
OPERATOR guide the craft into the hold.
TECHNICIANS stare at their various monitors and telemetric readouts.
The ULTRASOUND OPERATOR shouts into the hold . .
4.
ULTRASOUND MAN
IT'S HOLLOW. IT'S HOLLOW. Jesus . . . THERE'S SOMETHING MOVING IN
THERE!
A thermal printer spits out a hard copy of the ultrasound screen. A
FUZZY, MANLIKE SILHOUETE is plainly visible
within the craft.
ULTRASOUND MAN
Oh man, Herb - this looks like a -
An EXPLOSION interrupts him.
A HATCH has BLOWN OPEN just beneath the left wing - and now, dangling
from its chain, the whole craft begins to
ROTATE. Whatever's inside is about to come out.
Several GUARDSMEN dive from the scaffolding to the deck. Others are too
scared to move.
And a couple reach instinctively for their SIDEARMS . . .
VOICES FROM HOLD [o.s.]
Don't shoot! DON'T SHOOT!!
16. INT. CRAFT - THAT MOMENT
A POV shot from WITHIN the craft - looking THROUGH the open hatch at
the frenzy outside. As the craft turns, a
GUARDSMAN comes into view - clinging to the scaffolding, WIDE-EYED WITH
HORROR.
In the foreground, a WHITE-GLOVED HAND rises suddenly into frame . . .
and an inhuman voice croaks out something that
sounds like:
VOICE
Plleeeeeeeezzz . . .
GUARDSMAN I
JESUS!
WHATEVER HE SEES drives him into a frenzy. He STARTS SHOOTING.
17. EXT. DECK - OUTSIDE THE CRAFT - ON GUARDSMEN
A blur of motion. The PASSENGER of the craft, BLEEDING, pitches forward
through the open hatch and hangs there, half
in, half out. A SECOND GUARDSMAN lunges at the guy with the gun -
5.
GUARDSMAN I
YOU IDIOT! WHAT ARE YOU -
They grapple. The CRAFT, dangling in midair, ROTATES AROUND - and the
OPEN HATCH DOOR knocks both GUARDSMAN to the
deck!
Screaming and confusion all around. The CRANE OPERATOR swings the pod
hard left, trying to avoid any further injuries.
Like a big wrecking ball, the craft slams into the scaffolding, causing
it to COLLAPSE.
The CRANE OPERATOR tries to HOIST the pod away from the damage. As it
rises, we ZERO IN on the dead PASSENGER dangling
out of the open hatch. A TRICKLE OF BLOOD runs down the side of the
craft . . .
. . . and POOLS on the deck . . . where it SEETHES and CHURNS like a
living, tumorous organism . . .
. . . until a small quantity of BUBBLING PINK ORGANIC SLOP arises from
the puddle of blood, and begins to CRAWL AWAY
across the deck!!
BOOTS sprint past, SPLATTERING the moist pink crawling goo into several
discrete globules. But the globules REGROUP,
as if driven by some primordial homing instinct, into a single
pulsating mass. The undulating blob squirts out a
tendril and DRAGS ITSELF across the deck -- over the railing -- INTO
THE HARBOR.
18. EXT. FISHING BOAT -DAY
The CAPTAIN lowers his binoculars and snorts in disgust.
CAPTAIN
Your tax dollars at work. - Stow the goddam nets. Let's go home.
He takes a last bite of his sandwich, chucks what's left overboard.
A SEAGULL spots breakfast and swoops toward the captain's leftovers. It
snags a hunk of meat and lets out a startled
SQUAWK. The bird flaps its wings furiously, trying to take flight --
-- but a LONG PINK TENDRIL pulls it downward. The keening gull VANISHES
beneath the waves as we
CUT TO:
6.
19. INT. HOSPITAL - BIRTHING CENTER - DAY
An enormously PREGNANT WOMAN is drinking from a water fountain in the
hallway of a modern MATERNITY WARD. SUPER TITLE:
12 APRIL 1999 NINE MONTHS LATER
She lets out a little SQUEAK. A helpful NURSE rushes to her side.
PREGNANT WOMAN
I think I felt another contraction!
SPLATTERING NOISES on the tiles. Her water's broken. She looks down,
lets out a little exclamation of embarrassment .
. .
NURSE
Don't worry, well take care of that. The birthing room is all ready for
you.
The PREGNANT WOMAN glances down the hallway, where the corridors
intersect. Several DOCTORS appear to be in a big
hurry. A guy in a suit uses a KEY to summon the FREIGHT ELEVATOR.
The elevator opens - and the DOCTORS push what looks like a CHROME
SARCOPHAGUS onboard. It's three feet long. On a
rolling cart. With a refrigeration unit beneath it ...
PREGNANT WOMAN
What in the world is that?
NURSE
Oh, it's . . . it's for preemies.
(swiftly turning her around)
This way.
A SCREAM echoes in the hospital corridors. Not the scream of a woman in
labor - this one's a MAN.
The PREGNANT WOMAN glances back over her shoulder - just in time to see
an hysterical FATHER at the end of the
corridor, with ORDERLIES and DOCTORS swarming around, trying to calm
him dawn.
NURSE
This way. Please.
She steers the pregnant mom down the hall, away from the commotion.
7.
20. EXT. HOSPITAL- ROOFTOP
A HELICOPTER touches down on the rooftop helipad, and a group of
SPECIALISTS from the Centers from Disease Control in
Atlanta debark.
They carry themselves with the natural authority of young hotshots -
the best and brightest in their field.
Leader of the pack is DR. SUSAN LANDIS, a handsome woman in her early
thirties, with a face full of quick, ironic
intelligence, insatiable curiosity, boundless good humor. When she's on
the job, though, she takes on a crisp,
no-nonsense, almost military demeanor - and just now, she is well and
truly on the job. She hits the tarmac moving . .
.
DR.ENGEL
Susan! Thanks for coming so quickly -
DR. ENGEL is 64, heavyset, distinguished-looking. He's at the head of a
phalanx of doctors and hospital
administrators. She gives him a warm smile as the two groups head en
masse for the rooftop elevator.
SUSAN
For you? Black plague couldn't keep me away. - What's the latest?
Holding at five?
ENGEL
It was five yesterday, Susan. Today it's -
(grimly)
I'll let you see for yourself.
21. INT. HOSPITAL - OBSERVATION ROOM - DAY
The whole gang's scrubbed down and changed into surgical gear. They're
looking through a glass window into a maternity ward lined with CRIBS.
The room is sealed - and the obstetric NURSES are wearing SAFE SUITS.
ENGEL
Now get ready for this. I don't think any of
you have ever seen anything like it . . .
ENGEL gestures to a NURSE on the other side of the glass. She gingerly
lifts an infant from its crib . . . pulls the swaddling back from its
face . . .
Several of the CDC hotshots jump back in shock. The newborn infant is
leathery, wrinkled, with liver spots and rotting yellow teeth. It
weighs
nine pounds. It looks like an EIGHTY-YEAR-OLD MAN.
8.
SUSAN
I've seen it. Hutchinson-Gilford . . .
CDC HOTSHOT
Neonatal progeria, right? Accelerated aging in
the womb.
SUSAN
Kids are usually dead by the time they're ten.
ENGEL
No, Susan, no. If it was Hutchinson-Gilford I
wouldn't have called you up from Atlanta.
(gesturing to the NURSE)
We've got three neonates here, all born today.
This one was 3 PM - just over an hour ago.
The NURSE leans over a crib, unwraps a baby. It has a full head of oily
hair - the acne-covered face of an adolescent.
ENGEL
This one was noon.
Same routine. Baby #2 looks like a sallow, balding, middle-aged man.
ENGEL
And this one was 7:45 AM . . .
Before the NURSE can pull back the blankets a TINY, CLAWLIKE HAND
shoots out from the third crib - waving with knobby, arthritic fingers.
SUSAN stares compassionately at the ancient, wizened infant. She
knows it's pointless, but she can't stop herself from waving back.
ENGEL
When they're born they look normal. Within
twelve hours . . . they're dead of old age.
The CDC crew are already BUZZING among themselves.
SUSAN
- You've had five of these??
ENGEL
I told you, Susan. It was five yesterday.
ENGEL raps on another observation window - this one curtained off.
9.
Inside, a nurse draws the curtain back, allowing SUSAN to see . . .
. . . an entire ROOMFUL of afflicted babies, THIRTY OR FORTY OF
THEM, in various stages of disintegration.
ALL HEADS TURN at a new round of SHRIEKS and WAILING from
anguished parents in the hallway. The CDC crew falls deadly silent -
ashen-faced. It's as if they've just seen the end of the human race.
ENGEL
We haven't had a normal birth today.
22. INT HOSPITAL - CONFERENCE ROOM
It's been commandeered by the CDC high command, who have taken
over every available phone jack to plug their laptops into the net.
There
are several open pizza boxes on the central table.
ENGEL
- and we don't know what to do with the
parents. You heard what the maternity ward
is like. It's bedlam.
SUSAN
Forget about containing it. it'll be in all the
papers by morning.
A CDC WORKER, ALBERT, rushes up to SUSAN with a printout.
ALBERT
Here's what we've got. Eight in Chicago;
eleven in Pittsburgh; four in our beloved home
town of Atlanta . . .
SUSAN
Airline hubs.
ALBERT
- and Jersey is crawling with 'em.
SUSAN
Let's hope for a contact vector. If it's airborne
we're knee-deep in shit creek.
10.
ENGEL
it's incomprehensible. Hutchinson-Gilford's a
spontaneous mutation. How could it be infectious?
SUSAN
My guess is it's not. If you isolated the
mutagen you could reproduce it - transfect
the population by virus. Catch the virus, and
the mutagen kicks in . . .
ENGEL
But that would mean somebody had to -
SUSAN
Tailor it, yeah. The big question is when. If
this stuff's had nine months to spread . . .
SUSAN looks up at the sound of a choked SOB from across the table. In
the midst of all the frantic activity, one of the CDC team, a young
woman
named DONNA, has totally lost it. She sits frozen over her laptop
screen,
face buried in both hands.
SUSAN goes over and lays a consoling hand on her shoulder.
SUSAN
Take a break, Donna. Grab a catnap. We'll
get by without you for an hour.
DONNA
No, no, I'm fine. I'll-
Just that quickly, her hands are racing over the keyboard again.
SUSAN
Whoa. That's no suggestion, that's an order.
DONNA looks up at her hollow-eyed, TEARS trickling down her cheeks.
DONNA
Susan, I'm two months pregnant.
There's nothing SUSAN can say. Stunned, she sits down beside her
colleague. The two of them embrace.
11.
23. INT. CDC - FOUR MONTHS LATER - DAY
SUSAN and ALBERT at an electron microscope. The grainy image from
the microscope appears on a large overhead MONITOR.
There's a tiny tendriled PINK ORGANISM floating among the red and
white corpuscles . . .
SUSAN
That's our vector.
ALBERT
Whose blood are we looking at?
SUSAN
Yours. It doesn't like you. You're not going to
get pregnant. It's just loitering around with
nothing to do.
She nicks a switch. The image on the monitor changes. LOTS OF little
pink critters, occasionally SHOOTING OUT pseudopods at passing
corpuscles -
sometimes actually INGESTING them.
SUSAN
This is me. It's interested. No action yet, but
definite possibilities. And this . . .
Flick - another new image. Pink blobs everywhere, FEASTING.
ALBERT
Jesus, it's an orgy!
She gives him a tight little cockeyed smile ...
SUSAN
Six months pregnant. Work to do. Cells to
invade. DNA to ruin . . .
ALBERT
What is it? It's not a virus, exactly. It -
SUSAN
Albert, I don't have a bleeding clue what it is.
There's nothing like it on the books. All I
know is, it's awfully good at what it does.
She turns off the monitor. They sit there in glum silence.
12.
ALBERT
That last sample. Was that Donna?
SUSAN nods wearily.
ALBERT
She's still going to carry the baby to term?
SUSAN
I guess she's hoping for a breakthrough. I
guess she's counting on us to . . .
The odds against them are too enormous. She can't even say the words.
24. INT. TELEVISION STUDIO - NIGHT
A remote linkup site for ABC Nightline. A CAMERA CREW bustles
around a bank of MONITORS on which we see live footage of a) a smug
REVEREND; b) a State Dept. TERRORJSM EXPERT; and c) TED KOPPEL,
at his desk in foreground, the other two composited behind him.
REVEREND [an monitor]
The year 2000 is upon us, Ted. We're seeing
the fulfillment of biblical prophecy. There's no
question the last days are at hand.
TERRORISM EXPERT [on monitor]
It's a simple failure of policy. We've known for
years that the international terror network is
heavily invested in biological weapons -
The THIRD GUEST is SUSAN, taping live right here in the linkup studio,
and she's listened to this stuff long enough.
SUSAN
No. No. This is not something you can buy
from your neighborhood arms broker. This is
generations beyond anything we can do -
TERRORISM EXPERT
Yet somebody did it. If it didn't come out of
our labs, then -
REVEREND
All things are possible with God.
13.
SUSAN and the EXPERT roll their eyes, let out snorts of frustration.
The REVEREND sits there smiling, Buddha-like in his serenity.
KOPPEL
Reverend, exactly what are you getting at?
REVEREND
As a nation, Ted, we've denied the sanctity of
human life; we've put our trust in scientists,
like the young lady here, instead of in God;
and now with this horrible plague our own
sins are finally coming back to -
SUSAN
Oh, come on, Reverend. Is it biblical prophecy
or is it my fault? Let's make up our minds.
TERRORISM EXPERT
We'd all love to hear your explanation.
SUSAN [on TV]
It's not divine retribution. It's not Islamic
fundamentalists. I know this sounds absurd,
I know it's ludicrous, but it's the only expla-
nation that makes sense.
(long pause)
This plague did not originate on earth. We've
been invaded.
25. INT. SUSAN'S APARTMENT - LATER - NIGHT
She opens the door, slams it shut behind her, and lets out a GASP.
The lights are on. There's a STRANGE MAN in her favorite reading chair,
over by the wall of books. He's fortyish, Jamaican, perpetually
bemused.
He's smoking a pipe. He's made himself very much at home.
SUSAN
Who are you?
DODGE
Dr. Landis?
He jumps to his feet, shows her what he's been reading. It's a textbook
on viruses. The author is SUSAN herself.
14.
DODGE
I was just wondering why they don't put the
author's photo on textbooks. They'd sell a lot
more copies in your case.
(extending a hand)
Raymond Dodge. I watched you on Nightline.
You were terrific.
SUSAN ignores his hand. She marches to the phone, dials 911.
SUSAN
Found the popcorn okay, I hope?
(into the phone)
Hello, I'd like to report a -
She stops in mid-sentence - stares at a pair of SUITCASES standing near
the door. Her suitcases. She lowers the phone, GAPES at DODGE.
DODGE
Our plane's leaving in forty minutes.
SUSAN
Plane?
DODGE
I packed a couple of weeks' worth. If you need
mare things, we can have them sent.
SUSAN
You've been in all my stuff? What is this? I
don't even know who you are!
DODGE
(patiently)
I'm Raymond Dodge, and I'm here on behalf of
Dr. Troy --
SUSAN
Dr. Troy? Alexander Troy?
DODGE
From the JPL. You know him?
SUSAN
I get PBS.
15.
DODGE
He wants you to come to New Mexico tonight.
He has some . . . information that might be of
interest to you.
SUSAN
About the plague?
(off DODGE's nod)
Does he know about telephones?
SUSAN storms to the front door and opens it to usher DODGE out.
SUSAN
You know, Mr. Dodge, I'd like to help you out,
but the work I'm doing here is actually kind of
important. I do appreciate the invitation . . .
Wincing, DODGE looks past her into the hallway. SUSAN turns abruptly
- and finds herself staring at two FEDS in dark suits and shiny shoes,
posted on the landing outside her apartment door.
DODGE
Well, that's just it, Dr. Landis. It's not exactly
what you'd call an invitation.
DODGE points to the suitcases. The FEDS barge in and grab one apiece.
SUSAN is too bewildered to protest.
CUT TO:
26. EXT. DESERT - AIR FORCE BASE - DAY
Okay, call it Roswell - a top-secret underground facility hidden in the
New Mexico desert. The only signs of it on the surface are a series of
PLANE HANGARS carved out of a semicircular CLIFF WALL.
A MILITARY HELICOPTER slices through the cloudless skies and
descends toward a vast MESA at the foot of the cliffs. Great horizontal
PANELS set into the door of the plateau slide back to admit it. 27. ~T.
HELICOPTER~PAV A USAF PILOT up front; in the
rear are SUSAN and DODGE. She's looking about in amazement as the
helicopter descends past SENTRY TOWERS and great
swiveling ANTI-AIRCRAFT GUNS mounted in the sheer cliff walls.
16.
DODGE looks bored. He's smoking his pipe, paging through a sheaf of
computer printouts. For him it's just another commuter flight.
28. RVT. UNDERGROUND COMPLEX - DAY
NORAD would be green with envy. everywhere you turn, there's a
research team working at a bank of fantastically expensive equipment.
It's the sort of place James Bond villains hang out, when they're
plotting
to overthrow the world.
A glass ELEVATOR CAPSULE disgorges SUSAN and DODGE.
SUSAN
You think you know where the plague originated?
DODGE
I'll let Troy tell you about it.
(to a TECHNICIAN)
Dino! Is Troy up yet?
DINO
You're just in time for his wake-up call.
SUSAN
(checking her watch)
Dr. Troy believes in getting his beauty sleep.
DODGE chuckles enigmatically. He leads SUSAN to a nearby lab area,
where DINO is rotating a GLASS-AND-CHROME SARCOPHAGUS, seven
feet long and REFRIGERATED, into an upright position.
SUSAN almost GASPS as the LID pops open. A hiss of FROSTY AIR
comes gushing out . . .
DR. ALEXANDER TROY climbs slowly out of the cryo-unit and stretches.
He's stiff and extremely cold. He's also STARK NAKED.
TROY
How long?
TECHNICIAN
36 hours. How do you feel?
TROY
Frosty. Any dermal damage? How do I look?
17.
SUSAN
You look smaller on TV.
TROY looks up, sees SUSAN, realizes he's at a social disadvantage.
DINO offers him a bathrobe. He pulls it on hurriedly . . .
DODGE
We can usually talk him into wearing pants. -
Susan Landis? Alexander Troy.
TROY
Dr. Landis! Your great admirer. I'm glad you
could come on such short notice.
SUSAN
(snidely)
I had lots of help.
TROY
I hope the boys weren't too ... abrupt with
you. You see, we're on a very tight schedule -
SUSAN
I can see a lot of tax money at work. But I
still don't know what you're doing or why I'm here.
TROY
You're here because we need you.
SUSAN
Who's "we"?
TROY
The human race.
29. INT. LABORATORV~ DAY
SUSAN at a microscope, examining tissue and blood samples.
SUSAN
Yeah. That's it. This tissue's crawling with
the stuff.
At her side are TROY, DODGE, and another scientist in a lab coat -
WELDON STEWART, thirtyish, slightly pudgy, on the nerdy side.
18.
STEWART
The pink stuff. The vector. It appears to be
some kind of self-replicating organic machine
. . . all it does is reproduce and -
SUSAN
- and attack fetal DNA. Have you figured out
the coding yet? Do you know how it's programmed?
STEWART shrugs helplessly. SUSAN swivels around on the lab stool
and fixes the three men with her steeliest gaze.
SUSAN
Why don't we all just lay our cards on the
table, boys? I don't know where you got that
tissue sample I'm looking at . . . but I know
it's not human.
DODGE
We should've gone public a year ago . . . we'd
be that much farther ahead . . .
SUSAN
We thought we had it contained. But there
was blood loss - from the wound -
SUSAN
Stop it! Just tell me. In English - !!
TROY
Susan, there's someone we'd like you to meet.
30. INT. OBSERVATION ROOM - DAY
GREEN LIGHT floods a sealed VACUUM CHAMBER , visible through a
wall of UNBREAKABLE GLASS. On the other side, suspended from a
tangle of wires, hangs the FROZEN CORPSE . . . of an ORANGUTAN.
In a spacesuit. A bloodstained spacesuit, with a neat round BULLET
HOLE in the abdominal area.
TROY
We picked him out of New York Harbor.
About fourteen months ago.
19.
SUSAN
Where'd he come from?
DODGE
Best guess right now is an earth-like planet
orbiting Alpha Centauri.
TROY
Poor guy. Traveled almost five light-years to
earth - and a 19-year-old coast guardsman
shot him on sight.
SUSAN'S gaze is riveted on the Orang. His eyes remain open even in
death. He seems to be looking right at her ... pleading.
SUSAN
So someone put a diseased lab animal in a
spacecraft - and shot it to earth?
The men exchange a look . . . CHUCKLE among themselves.
STEWART
That's what we thought at first.
TROY
Then Dodge here started playing with the
navigational computers.
DODGE
The math was driving me crazy at first. We
count on our ten fingers - base ten. Well, this
baby was all programmed in base twenty.
SUSAN
. . .Fingers and toes.
Grins all around. The boys are warming up to SUSAN. They think alike.
TROY
That was no lab animal. That was the pilot.
CUT TO:
3l. AERIAL POV SHOT - THE CRAHD CANYON - DAY
A POV SHOT from the cockpit of a supersonic, infinitely maneuverable
AIRCRAFT rocketing THROUGH THE GRAND CANYON. We SWOOP,
20.
DIP, ARC RIGHT and LEFT, DO A BARREL ROLL - all at nauseating,
vertiginous speed, barely avoiding the sheer rock walls on either side!
TECHNICIAN [o.s]
Okay, I'm killing your left engine! You're
going into a tailspin!
PILOT [o.s.]
DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!!
Suddenly we're SCREAMING DOWN toward the floor of the canyon!
32. INT. FLIGHT-SIMULATOR LAB - DAY
We're looking at a guy in a GYROSCOPIC SIMULATOR. He wears a
VIRTUAL-REALITY HELMET which gives him the aerial-landscape view
we've just seen. As he works the joystick, the HARNESS he's strapped
into PITCHES and YAWS just as an aircraft would. The simulator is
capable of 360-degree motion in all directions, so he's being swung
back-
wards, forwards, upside down. It's like being in a milkshake machine.
He's a hell-raising hotshot of 26, and his name is CMDR. DAVID ASTOR.
VOICES call out from the floor below the simulator:
TROY
ASTROBOY!
DODGE
HEY, ASTROBOY!
ASTOR shaves a sharp turn just a little too close. He lets out a
SCREAM. The gyroscopic harness JERKS, BUCKS, JITTERS . . . and
comes to a DEAD HALT.
ASTOR pulls off his VR helmet, cursing a blue streak.
ASTOR
Goddammit, Troy, you pinheaded needle-
dicked slide-rule sucking son of a mentally defective monkey, you just
made us crash on a alien goddam landscape!
TROY
Sorry! There's someone I want you to meet.
ASTOR unstraps himself, climbs down from the gyro unit. He takes one
21.
look at SUSAN and turns on the oily charm.
TROY
Susan Landis? Cmdr. David Astor. Our pilot.
ASTOR
The gene queen! My pleasure. I thought you were coming in a couple of
weeks ago.
SUSAN
My invitation was lost in the mail.
ASTOR
Let me apologize for anything my colleagues may say or do. They come
from a distant isle where beautiful women are
only a myth.
He bows formally, kisses her hand - like an over-the-top parody of
Eddie
Haskell.
TROY
Astroboy was in the psychopathic ward.
The only way he could get out was to
volunteer for this mission.
SUSAN
. . What mission?
ASTOR
They haven't shown you yet? Follow me.
38. INT. HANGAR - DAY
METAL DOORS roll back. BLINDING SUNLIGHT pours in. Inside the
hangar, a FORTY-MAN GROUND CREW of mechanics is swarming
around an utterly staggering sight.
It's a STARSHIP - the same one we saw dredged out of New York Harbor.
It's no longer a charred, blackened mass; it's been restored to its
full,
pristine, butterfly-winged glory. TECHNICIANS are even now buffing it
to a high sheen. It looks ready to lift off.
The boys can't help themselves. They break into big grins every time
they see it. And SUSAN does likewise.
22.
SUSAN
Oh my God. - Does it fly?
TROY
(chuckling)
C'mon. I'll let you sit in the captain's chair.
34. INT. SPACECRAFT - DAY
as they enter. The interior is divided into a number of cramped
compartment. The BRIDGE area has a large observation
port - and, beneath it, an instrument console which duplicates the one
in ASTOR's simulator.
SUSAN wanders around wide-eyed. She's actually standing inside
an artifact from another world.
TROY
I was hoping to reverse-engineer the drive -
learn to build one from scratch. But the
plague tightened up our schedule.
SUSAN
You mean . . . ?
DODGE
It was programmed for a round-trip all along.
So as long as we've got our boarding pass . . .
ASTOR
We're gonna fly this sucker right back where it
came from!
As she moves from the bridge toward the rear compartments of the ship,
she sees a row of five chrome-and-glass SARCOPHAGI - just like the one
we saw TROY in.
SUSAN
Cryogenic tanks. So that's why you were
relaxing in the deep-freeze . . .
TROY
The trip's going to take six years. The ship's
not big enough for food and water, so -
DODGE
Well need a good rest anyway.
23.
The five SARCOPHAGI are all labelled with the names of their future
occupants. SUSAN traces along with one finger - until she gets to the
FIFTH
chrome coffin, which bears no name.
SUSAN
Troy. Stewart. Astor. Dodge . . .
(pause; smiling)
One berth still open. Who's number five?
The others just stare at her. It takes her a good three seconds to get
the
picture. And off her shell shocked expression we
CUT TO:
INT. INT. MEXICAN RESTAURANT - NIGHT
A six-piece Mexican marimba band supplies the soundtrack; a WAITER
brings a fresh pitcher of margaritas over to a table near the outdoor
patio, where we find TROY, DODGE, STEWART and ASTOR. There's a
fifth place setting - SUSAN's - but she's not in her chair.
STEWART, potted, is drawing Minkowski diagrams on cocktail napkins.
He's explaining relativity to ASTOR, an unreceptive student.
STEWART
Now we accelerate for a year - travel at max
speed for four - and in the last year, we
decelerate. Of course, due to relativistic time
dilation, six years for us will be thirty-four on
earth. But if we send our findings back by
radio, there should still be a handful of fertile
pre-menopausal women . . .
A gorgeous COCKTAIL WAITRESS slinks past. ASTOR eyes her and
claps STEWAWT briskly on the shoulder . . .
ASTOR
Hold that thought, Stewart. I'm gonna get us a fresh batch of cocktail
napkins.
He jumps up, dogging the WAITRESS's heels. TROY, meanwhile, is
anxiously scanning the restaurant.
TROY
What happened to Susan?
24.
DODGE
Ladies' room, I think -
TROY
That was ten minutes ago.
The two of them exchange a nervous look. TROY heads outdoors.
36. EXT. DESERT~ NIGHT
She's wandered down from the outdoor patio into the desert. She's out
among the cacti, wandering along a dry creek bed, staring at the stars.
TROY wanders up behind her.
TROY
. . . Need a little air?
SUSAN
I'm sorry. I was just listening to all of you talk
about the future ... and I got this awful,
clammy sense that the future was all used up.
TROY
Children are the future. Take them away, and
you take away hope.
A weird pronouncement, coming from TROY. She looks at him askance.
SUSAN
You have kids?
TROY
No. I did, but . . . no.
She waits for a further explanation. After a few seconds she realizes
there's not going to be one. TROY has some sort of emotional wound
that he doesn't want probed; she respects his wishes.
SUSAN
Why'd you pick on me, Troy? There are others
in my field that are at least as qualified. More
experienced . . .
TROY
It's not a flattering answer.
25.
SUSAN
I'm past caring about politesse.
TROY
We had three candidates. You were the best -
and you had the least to lose.
She looks at him as if he's slapped her in the face.
TROY
The others had families. Obligations, ties . . .
reasons to stay behind.
SUSAN
I had a calico cat once. Till it died.
TROY
You have a sister in Florida. You've been
engaged twice; you broke it off both times.
You haven't had a date in seven months -
SUSAN
Well, Christ, I've been working, haven't I.
TROY
- which puts you in exactly the same category
as the rest of us. We've all had our lives
collapse around us. We get on with it. We do
our work!
Her mood softens a little.
SUSAN
I don't want the destiny of the race on my
shoulders, that's all.
(shaking her head)
They still line up outside the CDC. Pregnant
women, every day. They know there's nothing
we can do for them, but they show up anyway
-- just wanting to see us, or touch us, or -
TROY
Susan? If we stay here, we die. If we go there
(pointing skyward)
- we find an answer, or we fail. But at least
we took that one tiny chance we had.
26.
SUSAN
Which one's ours?
TROY turns her around - points tb the southwest corner of the sky. As
she searches for the tiny twinkling pinprick of Alpha Centauri, the
camera
TILTS up - up - upward into the heavens . . . and we
DlSSOLVE TO:
37. EXT. OUTER SPACE - NIGHT
A BRILLIANT STARFIELD like the one we just left. And in fact we might
think we're still back in the New Mexico desert . . .
. . except for the BLACK SPACECRAFT~ that appears out of nowhere and
comes zooming right at us. The CAMERA WHlP PANS WITH IT as it
speeds beyond the ringed splendor of Saturn, vanishing into the icy
dark.
38. INT. SPACECRAFT - night
TIGHT ON THE INSTRUMENT CONSOLE at the front of the cockpit. Two
side-by-side CHRONOMETERS read:
SIDEREAL DATE: 11/19/01 21:07:17
EARTH DATE: 07/08/02 11:51:03
Needless to say, the SECOND chronometer is ticking off the minutes at a
visibly faster clip than the first.
We move back through the ghostly silence of the ship, past lab gear and
radio telescopes, to the PASSENGER COMPARTMENT - five frosted-over
SARCOPHAGI standing upright in a tow. We see the LABELS on each:
ASTOR. STEWART. DODGE. TROY...
And, last but not least, LANDIS.
39. EXT. OUTER SPACE - SERIES OF DISSOLVES - THE CRAFT
Past the solar system and well on its way to Alpha Centauri. The ship
is now at full velocity, and space-time is WARPING around it. The stars
look distended, almost liquid ... as if the universe had begun to MELT.
40. INT. SPACECRAFT - COCKPIT - NIGHT
Through the observation bay, THREE SUNS burn bright~y. We've
entered another solar system. The CHRONOMETERS read:
27.
SIDEREAL TIME: 03/29/16 01:94:30
EARTH TIME: 06/21/33 12:02:56
Then: a sudden GRINDING NOISE as gears come to life. LIGHTS flick on
in the darkened craft; OXYGEN hisses through ventilation grates . . .
TROY's cryo-unit expels a little CLOUD OF CONDENSATlON as the seal
breaks. The chrome & glass lid retracts and he floats out, WEIGHTLESS.
He grabs an upright, takes a deep breath, and pulls himself down to the
floor so his VELCRO SHOES can take hold of the carpet.
ASTOR [o.s.]
Man, I've woken up with some ugly-ass
critters in my time, but this -
TROY looks up. ASTOR is floating HORIZONTIALLY two feet overhead.
TROY
Asshole. I'm even glad to see you.
ASTOR lets out a Texas whoop, REVELING in his own weightlessness.
He KICKS OFF on a bulkhead, launching himself toward the cockpit up
front. DODGE and SUSAN are floating out of their coffins as well . . .
DODGE
Give me a bagel and a New York Times.
This gets a LAUGH out of the boys. SUSAN joins in. But then -
SUSAN
What the hell's that?
SMALL PURPLE GLOBULES the size of a poker chip art floating in the
air before her eyes. The men look around; they're all-over the cabin.
As
ate numerous bits of SHATTERED GLASS . . .
SUSAN
Stewart?
All eyes turn to the fifth coffin. The chrome half of the lid is still
in place.
But the glass is missing, except for a few ragged shards stuck in the
frame. It seems to have exploded outward ...
DODGE touches one of the purple poker chips.
DODGE
Blood.
28.
They exchange nervous looks. SUSAN peers around a corner... and the
bloodless, bone-white corpse of STEWART floats out to greet her.
There's a big open GASH on the back of his left hand.
SUSAN
He must've cut his hand when the glass blew.
DODGE
Near-vacuum conditions - his bloodstream
would've emptied out in a couple of seconds -
TROY
And it never coagulated. No oxygen. Till now.
Stunned silence - till ASTOR sticks his head in from the cockpit area.
ASTOR
Save it for later. Man your stations. Now!
TROY
He's our friend, Astor - he's dead -
ASTOR
He's probably been dead for a decade or two.
The rest of us are one hour to touchdown, and
we got us a way funky port stabilizer.
DODGE
Meaning what?
ASTOR
Meaning we're damn sure lucky we got a pilot on board.
41. EXT. OUTER SPACE - NIGHT
A HUGE, BLUE-GREEN PLANET looms before us as the spacecraft
hurtles toward its surface, dwindling down into the tiniest of specks.
42. SERIES OF SHOTS - THE DECENT
We break through the clouds into a bleak, beautiful, icy landscape of
CANYONS and MOUNTAJN RANGES. The ship swoops, dives, pitches as
ASTOR feels out the lay of the land . . .
29.
43. INT. SPACECRAFT - NIGHT
Our four surviving spacefarers huddled around the observation port.
ASTOR
God damn. Come on. Gimme something flat!
DODGE
(at the radar screen)
I'm showing a f]at basin - about six acres -
nine klicks west. That room enough for you?
ASTOR
Stand back and watch me work.
44. EXT. MOUNTAIN BASIN - ON SHIP - NIGHT
With VTOL rockets blazing the ship descends to the icy, snow-covered
plain below. MOUNTAINS surround it in all directions.
45. INT. CRAFT - NIGHT
A soft THUNK and they're down - the first humans to land on anothcr
planet. The momentousness of thc occasion doesn't escape them. For a
few moments they just sit there, staring at cach other, until . . .
DODGE
Atmospheric readout says it's safe to breathe.
TROY
Better wear the excursion suits anyway. Well
need to keep warm.
46. EXT. MOUNTAIN BASIN - NIGHT
The hatch opens. Hydraulic stcps descend. Our rour spacefarers step
out of the craft and into their new environment.
There's snow and ice everywhere you ]ook. FOUR MOONS of various
sizes shine above. Low on the horizon hangs the tiny red orb of Proxima
Centauri, the smallest sun in this triple-star system. Because of the
planet's orbital angle, Proxima Centauri NEVER SETS. It burns like a
perpetual nightlight, bathing the landscape in a dim, dull neon glow.
The group communicates by means of RADIO MIKES in their helmets.
30.
TROY [filter]
I guess somebody ought to take off his helmet.
Any volunteers?
LONG SILENCE. They exchange looks. No eager beavers in this group.
SUSAN [filter]
Astroboy?
ASTOR [filter]
My mama always taught me ladies first.
SUSAN rises to the challenge. She twists TWO KNOBS on eithcr side of
her collar, breaking the airtight seal. Then she lifts her helmet off
and
TAKES A DEEP BREATH.
Two breaths. She LAUGHS. The others follow suit. Within moments
they're all breathing the rarefied air of a new world, and LAUGHING.
PULL BACK TO:
47. POV SHOT - FROM ROCKS - ON MOUNTAIN BASIN
Their LAUGHTER echoes in the distance. From this rocky perch high
above the basin we can see the whole tableau: the ship, its passengers
-
- and, as dawn breaks over the mountains, we can see something else as
well. The unmistakable silhouette of a crude stone-tipped SPEAR in the
foreground ... and clutching it, a HUMAN HAND.
48. EXT. MOUNTAIN BASIN - DAY
TROY and DODGE are a short distance uphill from the ship, standing
over a man-sized PILE OF ROCKS. DODGE pulls a tiny AMERICAN
FLAG from his pocket and PLANTS IT at the head of the grave. They
linger there a moment saying their silent farewells to STEWART.
ASTOR and SUSAN are unloading gear from the spaceship. In the glare
of the triple sun, the snow around thc ship's begun to turn slushy.
ASTOR
Whoa, little lady. Let me carry that for you.
31.
SUSAN
Enough with the chivalry, okay? I'm not some delicate nower. Crazy as
it sounds, women can lift crates just iike men.
ASTOR
Landis - I happen to likt women. If it was up to me, we wouldte brought
four women.
SUSAN
And one man? - Who's the man?
ASTOR
Three guesses.
By now, DODGE and TROY have come trudging down to join them. The two
scientists take seats on newly-unloaded CRATES.
TROY
Four women and Astroboy. It's macabre.
ASTOR
Well, like it or not, gentlemen, the four of us just may be humanity's
last chance to perpetuate itself as a species.
SUSAN is REELING from this line of discussion. Waving htr hands,
shaking her head in disbelief, she wanders back to
the ship.
SUSAN
WHOA-A-A. Check, please!
49. POV SHOT - ON THE FOURSOME
Now we're watching them from the vantage of an UNSEEN OBSERVER moving
gradualy closer past icy boulders, around trees
. . .
SUSAN
Excuse me - boys - I just put the radio box over by this rock. - And
now it's gone.
NERVOUS LOOKS all around. They hear a BIRD CALL. From among the
boulders - awfully close. Then anothcr - as if
answering the first . . .
DODGE
Let's get back in the ship.
32.
No debate necessary. The four of them back cautiously toward the craft,
scanning the plain, the surrounding boulders.
50. INT. SPACECRAFT - A MOMENT LATER
The moment they're inside with the hatch closed, they hear a series of
metallic CLANGS against the outtr skin of the
craft.
TROY
Someone's throwing shit at us .. .
ASTOR's way ahead of him on that count. He ignites the VTOL rockets.
51. EXT. PLAIN - ON SPACECRAFT
Several ROCKS and a crude SPEAR bounce off the ship. We pan down to the
ROCKETS blasting fue onto the snowy plain . .
.
We hear a strange CREAKING noise - and then, without warning, a great
big FISSURE opens up under the spacecraft.
52. INT. CRAFT - THAT MOMENT
Suddenly the craft PITCHES SIDEWAYS. Everyone in it is THROWN TO THE
FLOOR. TROY drags himself up to the console -
stares out the viewport at GREAT SLABS OF ICE breaking up beneath them
-
TROY
Jesus Christ. We're on a lake!!!
53. EXT. PLAIN - ON SPACECRAFT - THAT MOMENT
The ship's at a 45-degree angle and SLIDlNG RAPIDLY into the icy
waters. The hatch blows; ASTOR and DODGE dive out and
tumble across the ice to safety. SUSAN's next -
- but when she hits the ice, it GIVES WAY BENEATH HER! TROY sees her
disappearing into the freezing water -
TROY
SUSAN!!
- and without hesitation, DIVES IN AFTER HER!
33.
54. UNDERWATER SHOT - BENEATH THE ICE
She's sinking like a stone. He grabs her, tries to swim to the surface,
but CAN'T - she's too heavy. Another thirty
seconds and they're goners.
The SHIP continues to slide into the water. TROY drags SUSAN laterally
to the ship ... catches hold of the open hatch,
and manages to PULL THEM BOTH along the exterior of the hull, toward
sunlight . . .
55. EXT. LAKE - A MOMENT LATER
They break the surface, GASPING. TROY lifts SUSAN out and they flop on
the ice, exhausted and hypothennic, TEETH
CHATTERING from the cold. Their suits are full of water. Another minute
or two out here on the floe, and their suits
will be full of ICE instead.
SUSAN
Sh-should've . . . sh-should've let me . . .
TROY
You're the most important cargo wete got.
(shuddering)
Suits full of water - we'll freeze if we -
A SPEAR whizzes between their faces and MBEDS ITSELF in the ice.
They look around. DODGE and ASTOR have been taken captive by a HUNTlNG
PARTY - two dozen SHAGGY, FUR-CLAD STONE AGE
MEN.
55. INT. CAVE - DAY
In the deepest pocket of a labyrinthine CAVE DWELLING we find our four
heroes seated around a fire. DODGE and ASTOR
are still wearing their excursion suits, but TROY and SUSAN are bundled
up in borrowed animal furs.
They're being guarded by a tight circle of WOMEN and OLD MEN. The women
chew hides, the geezers chip flint tools. A
CHILD paws at the odd fabric of ASTOR's suit; ASTOR slaps back, makes a
facc at him.
The CHILD breaks into wild, hyena-like laughter. His mother grunts and
whacks him sharply upside the head.
ASTOR
Hey, Troy:, I forgct. Which one oi these guys was the spaceship
designer?
34.
TROY
Look. They're human. That doesn't make them the dominant species.
DODGE
They're obviously dominating us.
ASTOR
A bunch of women, Medicare patients - hell. Why wait? We can take 'em
right now.
SUSAN's been staring off into the distance through all this.
SUSAN
The men are down at the mouth of the cave, Astor. They're having a
council meeting.
TROY
Probably deciding whether to worship us, or eat us.
DODGE
With a nice chi-ant-i.
DODGE
ASTOR
Listen. There's a crate of rifles down by the lake If we can get to 'em
- if just one of us can get to 'em . . .
DODGE pulls out his pipe and LIGHTS IT with a Zippo. The TRIBESMEN
GASP, awed and fascinated at the sight of the tiny
FLAME.
He holds it out for an old MAN to TOUCH. The old man lets out a YELP,
and DODGE quickly snaps the lighter SHUT. Almost
at once, THREE OF THEIR GUARDIANS clamber off over the rocks to bring
this shocking news to the tribal leaders. TROY
LAUGHS . . .
TROY
That settles it. We're gods.
DODGE
Hey, I'm the god. You three can be my little elves.
The TRIBAL LEADERS come hunying into the rear cavern. DODGE rises
boldly to his feet, holds up the lighter and
demonstates its use.
35.
The TRIBESMEN gasp in unison. They start to move in toward the flame -
but the merest gesture from DODGE sends them
back, cringing ...
ASTOR
Man. You got this god shit down.
The TRIBESMEN chatter and grunt excitedly among themselves. But then,
abruptly, they FREEZE - going absolutely silent.
Our four captives stare at one another in confusion. A deathly HUSH in
the cave . . .
Then they hear it.
Distant musical notes - the sound of a HUNTER'S HORN signalling the
start of the chase -
- and suddeniy the TRIBESPEOPLE are RUNNING OFF in all directions, some
toward the back of the cave, some toward the
front. Five seconds later TROY and the gang are standing there alone
and unguarded.
57. INT. CAVE - NEAR MOUTH - POV TROY
There's a huge CAMPFIRE blazing in the large vault at the mouth of the
cave, and the TRlBE is running around it in a
shrieking panic. Some leap out of the cave; others crawl into cramped
nooks and crannies. The HORN sounds again -
accompanied by a throbbing, warlike DRUMBEAT.
TROY and SUSAN emerge, spot the cave entrance just past the campfire -
and find themselves staring out at an
unbelievable sight.
HOVERlNG just outside the mouth of the cave is a WHIRLYBIRD. And seated
in it, aiming what looks like a BAZOOKA
directly at us . . .
.. . is a GORILLA in full military dress!
He fires. A canister of TEAR GAS rattles across the cave floor. An
instant later, everyone's choking on NOXIOUS GREEN
FUMES.
58. EXT CAVE MOUTH - THAT MOMENT
A BlLLOWING GREEN CLOUD pours out of the cave - and with it, MEN,
WOMEN, and CHILDREN, who dive out GASPlNG onto tht
steep, rocky slopes below. The cave mouth is flanked by gas-masked
GORILLAS with guns and prods. One of them yank's on
a CABLE . . .
... and a HUGE NET springs up to snare the humans as they come tumbling
head-over-heels fiom the mouth of the cave!
36.
59. INT. CAVE - DEEP TUNNEL - THAT MOMENT
In the swirling gas it's aimost impossible to see. DODGE has fallen in
with a batch of tribesmen who are tacing DEEPER
into the cave.
They're clambering up a craggy wall toward an AIRHOLE - just big enough
to crawl through. SCREAMS and WAILlNG as the
tribespeople climb OVER one another in their panic to get out.
DODGE stares up at the airhole. It's as if someone's standing outside,
opening and closing a TRAP DOOR, letting one
human out at a time . . .
VOICE [o.s.]
PULL! !
60. EXT. AIRHOLE - ON THE SLOPES - THAT MOMENT
Outside, we can see that TWO GORILLAS are holding a wooden PLANK in
place over the AIRHOLE.
GORILLA I
PULL!
On command from their comrade, they lift the plank for a couple of
seconds. A HUMAN climbs out and bolts off at a
sprint - until GORlLLA I, who's posted a short ways off, takes aim with
his rifle and FIRES.
Skeet shooting ... with humans.
61. INT. CAVE - TUNNEL - A MOMENT LATER
DODGE at the airhole. The plank opens. Two grinning GORILLAS stare down
at him. Horrified, he leaps back down over the
mass of bodies. The others continue lemming-like toward their fates as
he races deeper into the cave, looking for
anothcr exit.
57. INT. CAVE MOUTH - A MOMENT LATER
The rifle-toting, gas-masked APE GUARDS on either side of the cave
entrance. The one on the left leans around to have
a peek inside;and the red-hot end of a BIG FLAMING LOG, freshly plucked
from the campfire, slams squarely into his
gut. Dropping his rifle with a shriek, he LOSES HIS FOOTING and goes
bouncing off among the rocks.
TROY steps out of the cave and heaves his blazing louisville slugger
down the side of the cliffs. The SECOND APE GUARD
calls out through
37.
the thick greenish smoke ...
APE GUARD II
Cletus! What was that??
TROY
HELP! HELP!
APE GUARD II climbs down from his perch to investigate. He starts to
cut across the cave mouth, but the instant he
steps onto the ledge - ASTORS HAND closes around his collar - and sends
him slamming to the cave floor! The last thing
this ape ever sees is SUSAN, poised above him with a big nasty BOULDER,
about to PULVERIZE his SKULL.
Grabbing the dead ape's rifle, ASTOR and SUSAN hook up with TROY on the
rocks above the cave. As they scan the
landscape they can see that they're in the midst of a truly massive
operation:
FLEETS of TRUCKS and all-terrain vehicles down below ... a veritable
ARMY of gorillas and chimpanzees. And in the
skies, FOUR MORE HELICOPrERS, FUMIGATlNG all the nearby caves with tear
gas.
TROY
We've got to go up. It's the only way -
ASTOR hands him the rifle, claps him on the shoulder -
ASTOR
Sorry, I'm heading for that crate of rifles. Meet you back here on New
Year's Eve.
63. EXT. SNOWY SLOPE - THAT MOMENT
HUMANS scrambling down a big open expanse of perfect powder. TWO APES
IN SNOWMOBILES appear over the crest of the
hill; a NET stretches between the two vehicles, effortlessly SCOOPING
UP HUMANS as the Skidoos whiz past.
64. EXT. ROCKY DEFILE - THAT MOMENT
APES ON SKIS converge from several directions, FIRING PISTOLS into the
air. They're HERDING a group of frightened
humans down through a series of PROGRESSNELY SMALLER OPENINGS in the
rocks.
An APE swings an AXE - severing a SUPPORT ROPE. The snowy ground
38.
beneath the humans' feet suddenly DROPS AWAY, and they plunge headlong
into a PITFALL - conveniently lined with
netting for easy removal of the day's catch.
65. EXT. ROCKS ABOVE FROZEN LAKE - THAT MOMENT
MORE HUMANS making their way downhill - including ASTOR, who sticks out
like a sore thumb in his spacesuit. A
TRIBESMAN collides with him from behind, knocking him off his feet.
He gets up cursing - then hears a metallic SNAP arid a howl of PAIN.
The TRIBESMAN is writhing, leg caught in a STEEL
BEAR TRAP - as ASTOR surely would've been if he'd kept to the same
path!
He reaches the campsite and the CRATE OF RIFLES. RIPS OFF THE LID.
Reaches down - and feels a BEE STlNG on his neck.
It's a TRANQUILIZING DART. He barely has time to yank it out before he
topples to the ground in a heap. An APE in sun
goggles skis up to thd site, stops on a dimc. He gapes in puzzlement at
ASTOR's odd garb, at the crate of rifles. He
reaches into his designer parka and pulls out a CELLULAR PHONE.
66. EXT. HIGH GROUND - THAT MOMENT
TROY and SUSAN keeping low to the ground, working their way from one
hiding place to the next, with GUNSHOTS echoing
all around them.
They take cover amid a cluster of BOULDERS to do some quick recon. If
they can make it across a big flat expanse of
snow, they might be able to hide out in the rocky cliffs beyond.
Unfortunately, APES ON SKIDOOS are crisscrossing the
plain, PICKING OFF stray humans . . .
TROY
TROY If we could grab one of those things . . .
An ENGINE guns behind them. SUSAN peers around the boulder:
SUSAN
Look out. Thert's one coming up behind us.
TROY braces himself against the boulder. At the last instant he swings
his RIFLE up into the approaching snowmobile's
path. WHAM! - the Skidoo keeps going, but the GORILLA stays behind.
39.
TROY and SUSAN race toward the abandoned vehicle and climb aboard. As
they take off across the snows, a WHlRLYBIRD
swoops into view . . .
67. INT. WHIRLYBIRD - MOVING - THAT MOMENT
An APE PILOT and an APE GUNNER staring down in SHEER GLEE at the sight
of two humans piloting a SNOWMOBILE.
PILOT
Get a load of this. They're making a getaway!
GUNNER
Human see, human do!
Chortling, they PEPPER the ground below with MACHINE-GUN FIRE.
The engine of the hijacked Skidoo takes a hit. It begins to trail OILY
SMOKE as TROY frantically ZIGZAGS among the
rocks to evade fire.
68. EXT. SLOPES - ON SKIDOO - MOVING
TROY and SUSAN GLIDING over the crest of a hill. Their eyes widen in
unison. They SLAM ON THE BRAKES - SKID KARD LEFT
-
- and stop mere feet away from the edge of a PRECIPICE. They're trapped
on the brink of a YASWNING CHASM, a thousand
feet deep . . .
A SECOND WHIRLYBIRD rises up from the canyon, no more than twenty feet
in front of them, and BLANKETS THE SNOWMOBILE
in a thick shroud of KNOCKOUT GAS.
FADE THROUGH TO:
69. EXT. ROAD - ON TRANSPORT - MOVING - DAY
An OVERHEAD VIEW of a TRANSPORT TRUCK driving down a frozen, muddy
mountain trail. The back of it's outfitted as a big
open CAGE, and it's full of HUMAN BODIES. Dead? Unconscious? Hard to
tell.
Atop the stack of bodies is ASTOR - still in his excursion suit. He
wakes up - reacts in horrar and disgust to the
animal stench all around him.
70. EXT. OUTDOOR HOLDING PEN - DAY
Bare, muddy ground. SUSAN is sprawled there, a couple of feet away from
TROY - who's moaning softly, right on the
verge of coming around.
40.
ASTORS VOICE [o.s.]
TROY! TROY!!
TROY sits up slowly, aching all over. He sees the TRANSPORT TRUCK
rumbling past, with ASTOR in the back.
ASTORS
HEY, TROY!!
TROY tries to answer, but breaks out into a fit of violent COUGHlNG the
after-effect of the gas attack.
71. EXT. ROAD - ON TRUCK - THAT MOMENT
The chimp driver, MARCELLUS, looks nervously back over his shoulder and
slams on the brakes. He climbs out of the open
cab and peers into the CAGE - looking for an ape stowed away among the
humans.
MARCELLUS
Who said that? Who's in there?
ASTOR
Hey. Open this thing up. Let me out of here.
MARCELLUS makes no reply - except for a SQUEAK OF SHOCK. He JUMPS BACK
as ASTOR rattles the bars.
ASTOR
Yeah, you, monkey boy. Let me out! Who the hell's in charge around
here?
MARCELLUS fires a TASER WEAPON - what the apes call a "stinger" - at
ASTOR. The human jerks, twitches, and topples
over, unconscious.
MARCELLUS
Colonel Ursus!! Colonel Ursus!!
A burly, uniformed GORlLLA marches over to MARCELLUS' truck.