Alien 3 script
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calf; flesh and muscle are blackened, charred by the acid.
(unclipping a flat plastic
kit from his harness)
What's his name?
Cocktail for ya, Tatsumi.
He opens the kit, takes out a gun-shaped hypo with a pressure tank.
Can't get this on the Ginza, fella. Six times
stronger than heroin, about eight other things
in there to keep you up an' rockin'...
He jabs the needle through Tatsumi's pantleg; the unit HISSES.
Get a Marine a year in the brig, playin' R&R
with one of these...
Tatsumi moan softly as the shot hits him. Very clearly, in Japanese, he asks
if it's time to go back on duty.
Wha'd he say?
I don't know...
We'll have to carry him.
(passes Spence a sterile
dressing pack from his
Think you can get a dressing on that? Not
bleeding much. Like it's cauterized.
Get up, we're moving.
Think you better hang on to the Colonel's rifle.
INT. MALL -- ENTERANCE TO FREIGHT ELEVATOR
The doors look as though someone's gone after them with a giant can opener;
they're ragged, gaping. Bishop's hands sudd
enly appear in the opening in the
floor, grip the edge; he hauls himself up, arms quivering with strain. Last
thing through is the useless leg; he has to pull it up with both hands.
He looks anxiously out into the mall. Nothing moving, no Aliens in sight.
The queen's attack as torn loose a strip of alloy trim. Bishop bends it
double for strength and begins to work it beneath the belt around his thigh,
still keeping an eye on the mall.
INT. CORRIDOR TO ASSEMBLY POINT -- LIFEBOAT BAY
Hicks and Jackson slogging along, dragging Tatsumi between them, Spence with
the flare pistol, then Rosetti and the Lab Tech. Smoke hangs in strata.
Spence coughs. They're all feeling Anchorpoint's fire-depleted oxygen-level.
Tatsumi looks terrible: flushed, eyes glazed, but he's feeling no pain. He
weakly attempts to sing a snatch of a Japanese pop song. CLOSEUP on his
bandaged leg leaving a trail of yellow drops...
That's right, man. Not long now.
Hey, Jackson -- Goddamn, you were right.
He's pointing his pulse-rifle at a plastic sign mounted on the corridor wall:
LIFEBOAT BAY 20 METERS
Sure. Hadda map, didn't I?
They round a corner. Ahead is one of the blue lights and another sign:
LIFEBOAT LAUNCH ASSEMBLY POINT
The others groups... Where's everybody else?
Hell, they coulda launched already...
She's looking at a wall panel with LEDs that indicate launch status of the
The boats are all here.
Then nobody else made it...
Rosetti ignores them, keeps walking.
(looking after Rosetti)
I shoulda greased him.
Shit. What's the point?
The point? The point's he let 'em run their
fucking experiments! He coulda stopped 'em!
But he didn't! You tried, man, you and Bishop...
He let 'em do it!
Shit no. He's just brass. He's just like you
an' me, to the people who brought this down.
Wouldn't do any good to grease them either.
Bullshit! What not?
Because what you wanna grease is the company...
Rosetti breaks into a stumbling run as he nears the portal at the end of the
corridor, the entrance to the lifeboat bays.
CLOSEUP -- ROSETTI
ically punching a combination. Wants that door to open. Gets it:
slides back smooth as silk, revealing a brightly lit room filled with pristine
space gear and an indeterminate number of Aliens, their appendages tangled
black and shiny as a fresh catch of eels.
No! Goddamn it! No!
The Aliens stir as he throws himself back down the corridor toward the others.
Hicks drops Tatsumi, who sags into Jackson's arms, and raises his rifle.
FIRES a bolt past Rosetti, into the heart of the mass. Rosetti claws his way
by as Spence lets loose with the flare-pistol. All the ammo she has but it's
a big red distress flare straight through the portal; it bursts, crimson
lightning, scattering the Aliens. Now everyone is backing down the corridor,
the way they came, Jackson burdened with Tatsumi. Rosetti fumbles with the
combination on another door. Hicks is SHOOTING as he retreats. Aliens come
darting out past the dying cherry brilliance of the flare, SCR
EAMING down the
corridor... The second door open for Rosetti -- he's through, the second Lab
Tech on his heels.
INT. AN OFFICE
Dark -- only light from the corridor, even less are Rosetti immediately tries
to slam and lock the door in Spence's face -- but the Lab Tech yanks him out
of the way. The others tumble in, Jackson with Tatsumi in a fireman's carry.
Hicks kicks the door shut and locks it -- as something SLAMS into it, hard.
Jackson lowers Tatsumi to the carpeted floor.
Hicks CLICKS the light on. Swings the muzzle of his gun around the room,
circle of light jumping from one thing to the next. An office, larger than
Rosetti's. 21st-century stylistics and a basic bureaucratic banality: fake
teak, imitation leather. Framed portraits of beaming Weyland Yutani bigshots.
Spence brushes a square object of a shelf -- the base of a small hologram-
projector. A glowing DNA helix springs up.
Don't touch anything...
(to Jackson, pointing
He tried to lock the door, lock us out...
(pulling the automatic
from her jacket)
Forget it. That's what he wants. You really
wanna do 'im the favor?
Waddya mean it's what he wants?