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
ipulators for this.
She hands him something wrapped in a sheet of white printout held with a
rubber band. He removes the band, unrolls the paper. The canister. Number
What the hell did happen on the ship, Tully?
How come all the biopsy work on those three?
and his very quiet sudden backlog of autopsy
material? How come it's all triple-classified?
What's going on? We had these two spooks from
Gateway in here today acted like they just
bought the place...
(with a nervous glance
around the lab)
Okay, okay... But later, okay? Not here...
INT. TISSUE CULTURE LAB
Tully at the controls of a pair of high-tech servo-manipulators visible
ugh the tick glass of an ultra-heavy duty rectangular tank. The controls
are gloves. A cable leads from the wrist of each glove to the face of the
tanks. Tully move his hands, testing. The skeletal steels waldos inside the
tank mimic each move. He uses them to open the canister. An electronic
microscope is built into the tank, its monitor just above the window. He
positions the probe's tip under the microscope.
ANGLE OVER TOP OF MONITOR
for his reaction.
Spence... What is this? Where did it come
Spence strolls up behind his with a cup of coffee, a pen tucked behind her
C'mon, Charlie, don't you read the spec sheets
anymore? It's off the shop. Off your transport.
SPENCE'S POV -- CLOSE ON THE MONITOR
The tip of the probe is encased in a sheath of glittering back filigree.
Up the rez...
Tully taps a lapboard; magnifications increases by twenty powers.
EXTREME CLOSEUP -- MONITOR
As the screen fills with an image that might be a bizarre landscape, its lines
and textures recalling the interior of the derelict ship in "ALIEN."
An experimental pocket Eden: a half-acre of artfully ragged concrete
Disneyland into lush rainforest, sun-dappled miniature meadows, patches of
African cactus. Newt crouches in long grass, her hand extended toward a small
animal. A lemur. Hicks stands nearby.
Have you been there, Hicks? Africa?
Morocco. Four weeks of Basic. But was
mountains. Not like this.
The lemur scoots away, spooked by his voice; Newt watches as it scurries up a
I'd like to go there
No problem. You're going to Gateway station on
Sulaco, right? Then you catch a shuttle down and
you're in Oregon. Just a jump over a puddle, to
Africa, once you're there.
Spence walks out of the miniature jungle, carrying a white wire tray of
samples in plastic lab bottles.
I don't remember them...
Well, guess they remember you. Sure.
But what if Ripley wakes up and I'm not here?
Can't I wait?
Hey. She'll know where you're going, right?
Anyway, Sulaco's the only ship back to Gateway
for two months. But look, you w
ant to make double
sure, then you leave her a map, exactly where
Spence grins at Hicks.
INT. NEWT'S DORM CUBICLE
Newt at a fold-down desk, at work on an elaborate multicolor feltpen starmap.
A dotted line zigzags from Anchorpoint to Portland, Oregon. She carefully
prints her new address:
MR. & MRS. RICHARD JORDEN
34877 GREENLEAF AVE. #582
NEW PORTLAND, OREGON AB994J2
Ripley wan and comatose. Hicks waits awkwardly in the doorway, dangling
Newt's knapsack, as she enters and tapes the finished starmap to the wall;
the first thing Ripley would see, waking. Newt beside the bed, look down at
Ripley? Ripley, it's Newt. I... I gotta go
now. I'm going to stay with my grandparents,
in Oregon. Hicks says that's a good place...
There's a map for you, Riple
y, how to get there.
You can come there and stay with me, okay?
You have to, okay?
Tears on her cheeks as Hicks puts his hand on her shoulder and they leave the
INT. DEPARTURE BAY
Newt and Hicks amid a bustle of power-loaders, assorted robot vehicles. They
approach the entrance to a narrow corridor. Sign: DEPARTURE BAY -- CREW
ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT.
Good luck in Oregon.
He holds the red knapsack as she slips into the straps.
She look at him: ghost of a grin. She gives him the thumbs-up sign.
He returns the sign
She turns and
makes her way up the narrow boarding corridor. It's long,
tapers to nothing. Tiny figure, receding, bright dot of the knapsack. She
turns, waves. He waves back. She's gone.
Sulaco pulls away, begins to accelerate, dwindles against the stars.
INT. RODINA -- CONFERENCE CHAMBER