Alien 3 script
|
|||||
|
Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 Next page Smaller than Anchorpoint. INT. RODINA - CYBERNETICS LAB CLOSE on Bishop. He stares straight ahead, the corner of his mouth twitching mechanically. PULL BACK. Bishop's torso is mounted in the center of a large square platform; tubes are wires snake from his rui ned lower ribcage. The walls of the labs are lined with monitor screens and printers. Information is being reamed out of the android at high speed, printouts of measurements, graphs, formulas. COLONEL-DOCTOR SUSLOV is beside the Vietnamese Commando, who wears a sleeveless fatigue-blouse revealing regimental tattoos: a yin-yang, hashmarks, an ID marker like a supermarket bar-code. They watch as a graphics program generates a detailed anatomical drawing of a face-hugger on a large monitor. She says something short and emphatic in Vietnamese, repeats it: yes. SUSLOV And this? He taps a keypad and the face-hugger vanishes. The screen begins to draft an Alien in side and frontal projections. FIRST COMMANDO (eyes fixed on the screen in horror and fascination) No... On the slab, the robotic tic still works the corner of Bishop's mouth. INT. SULACO -- CARGO LOCK Two TECHNICIANS in biohazard gear squat on either side of Bishop's legs. An electronic microscope has been set up on a low tripod. A small monitor displays magnified skin and a few dark gobules. One Technician extracts an ultra-fine probe from its sterile package and leans forward. TECH WITH PROBE You getting tape of this, Miller? SECOND TECH You bet your ass. Orders. TECH WITH PROBE That's good because I'd swear I just saw a piece of this shit move... On the monitor, the tip of the probe trembles, brushes one of the globules. The Second Tech takes it, inserts it in a plastic tube, seals the tube in a small metal canisters, and writes #17 on the side in red grease pen. SECOND TECH Since when do androids get diseases? TECH WITH PROBE I dunno. Sur e looks like something got to this poor bastard... INT. ROSETTI'S OFFICE CUBICLE COLONEL ROSETTI, Colonial Marines, is Anchorpoint's head of military operations. His office is furnished in the best futuro-Pentagon style: imitation rosewood, division insignia plaques, a desktop model of the drop ships from "Aliens." Rosetti glances up from his monitor as his SECRETARY enters, a young woman in semi-dress Marine uniform. SECRETARY (hands him a stiff red plastic envelope) Welles and Fox, Colonel. Military Sciences, Weapons Division. Rosetti eyes the envelope with evident distaste, scrawls his signature in the required box before opening it, removes documents, and the empty envelope back. ROSETTI Show them in. Secretary exits. ROSETTI'S POV -- CLOSEUP on two plastic microfiche cards, each with front and side views of Fox and Well es, retinal I.D. images, scaled-down fingerprints, etc. Stamped "MILISCI, WEAPONS DIV." FOX (O.S.) Kevin Fox, Colonel. ROSETTI'S POV -- FOX is tanned, athletic, hyperconfident, his smile a heart-less display of state- of-the-art enamel-bonding techniques. WELLES is just behind him. WELLES Susan Welles. Same spa-tuned look, same expensive casualwear. ROSETTI (flatly, with no other effort at greeting) Welcome to Anchorpoint. Fox and Welles seat themselves without waiting to be asked. FOX We're impressed, Colonel. Susan and I are definitely impressed. WELLES The videos don't really give you an idea of the scale, do they? She might as well be talking about a tour of Notre Dame. FOX But we're particularly impressed with your handling of the situation, the situation so far. We're impressed with you cooperation... ROSETTI (flicking the cards down on his desktop with suppressed hostility) We call it "following orders." WELLES Yes. It would simplify things if everyone did, wouldn't it? Particularly the civilian component of that Deck Squad. I think we may have a potential problem there... FOX We've been going over psyche profiles, Colonel. Anchorpoint seems to be the kinds of project that attracts... idealists. ROSETTI (with a thin grin) Liberals . WELLES Let's just say we've noticed a certain antipathy to Military Sciences, Colonel. A certain lack of sympathy with the goals of the Weapons Division... ROSETTI Anchorpoint is under Colonial Administration authority. This isn't a military operation. If it were, we'd be in violation of the Strategic Arms Reductions treaty. FOX Looks great on paper, Colonel, but we want the civilians who boarded Sulaco sewn up. Tight. WELLES Forfeit of shares, for starts. Anyone talks, they lose their shares. We've found it reasonably effective, in most cases... FOX (taking a sheaf of printout from his attach_) But that's a simple matter. This isn't. Sulaco's data base indicates a boarding operation en route, Colonel. ROSETTI A boarding operation? Why wasn't I informed? WELLES We're informing you. You seem to have lost an android, Colonel. The Union of Progressive Peoples have Bishop... DISSOLVE TO: INT. ANCHORPOINT -- ENTRANCE TO ANTI-BUGGING BUBBLE A MARINE ushers Hicks into a large bare chamber. Hicks wears his dress uniform. The room is dominated by the bubble, a mirrored sphere. MARINE This way, Corporal. The Marine leads Hicks up a gangway. Hicks enters the bubble. The Marine closes the door behind him. |
|||||
|