Terry Bisson, страница 1
Alien Resurrection Final Draft Script
To be used for educational and review purposes only
EXT. DEEP SPACE SILENT BLACK.
We sweep slowly across an endless tapestry of stars. Finally she comes into view:
the U.S.S. AURIGA. A massive research vessel that sits majestically just beyond Pluto's orbit.
We TRACK ALONG the side of the ship, and
along the silent, empty corridors, coming at last to a door with two guards standing rigid in
front of it. Full armour, powerful shockrifles, expressions empty and cold.
Along a row of screens, where we see the first signs of life readouts, lights, data -- all
shifting and collating on the blinking screens.
As we move ALONG them, a figure-in a labcoat passes through the frame, then another,
leading us along the lab to settle on what looks like a Cryogenic tube, not big enough
for a human.
Still TRACKING around it, we glimpse inside some vague, fetal mass encased in a clear,
Tubes and cables a attached to the mass, running out of the machine.
As we still CIRCLE, the shape begins to be more coherent, till we can see what might even
be a face.
Eyes, shut tight. Sleeping.
A birds eyes view of a field, the soft golden waves filling the screen. Sharp contrast to
what we have seen before.
There is a woman wandering through the field. Beside her a girl, seven or eight, in dingey
sundress. Both have black, tousled hair.
My mom always said there were no monsters -- no,real ones -- but there are.
The girl stops, looks around her. The wheat comes all the up to her chest, and nothing
else is visible as far as she see.
She looks back at the woman but the woman is already more than fifty yards away.
The girl's expression becomes perplexed.
She slaps a bug on the back of her neck. Pulls it off and is HUGE, wriggling fleshily in
her hand. Her expression becomes even more distraught, but she cannot muster forth a shout.
The sound of insects-fills the air. Another bug lands on her, another. She looks down in
growing horror and sees:
Blood. At her feet, rising, filling the field, rising above the wheat, a sea of blood now,
The girl tries again to scream, raises her arms. She is completely covered in insects,
a skittering black shroud of them, and when she finally does SCREAM they flood into her mouth.
Instruments show a jolt in heart rate, blood pressure.
Scientists note it down, look over at the thing in aspic.
We can tell that time has passed because it is much bigger, nearly
the size of a man, and in a new case.
The camera moves in on the cardiograph, then moves down, to
show a second one. Tracking a smaller, much faster heartbeat.
Tiny. dark, and we are moving through it at impossible speed turning into
another without slowing, up into an air vent, still moving, moving
until we reach a chamber, some place where all we can see is a mass of dark,
moving, inhuman fle it welcomes us in, envelops us...
Lying somewhere, maybe the dark-chamber -- in the dream it keeps shifting.
She opens her eyes, but they are dark, whiteless.
She reaches for her chest and begins scratching . Hard.
Tearing at it, as blood wells up, spilling over her sides.
INT. OPERATING CHAMBER
And the cause of this dream becomes apparant:
ANGLE: RIPLEY'S CHEST
being cut open with a lasersaw.
We see her body still has a layer of the aspic-slime clinging to it. And her skin is
unnaturally blue. But as we PAN from her chest to her face her identity is unmistakable.
Around her are several men in operating masks. Cutting her GEDIMAN, a young and enthusiastic
scientist. One man, seemingly in charge, stands a bit off, watching. This, by tag on
his coat, is DR WREN.
Careful ... ready with the amnio...
Gediman finishes cutting. Another man steps in with a clamp. Sets it. Pulls apart the chest.
There she is ...
He says it like he's found a lost kitten. He reaches in an pulls out a sleeping, fetal
but nearly ready to burst ALIEN. Others work at severing umbilical threads that tie it
to Ripley's chest.
Here we go.
He holds it up and others step in with the amnio, a sort of incubator filled with amniotic
The alien SCREAMS, its tiny mouth full with teeth, and wriggles out of his grasp.
Everybody panics -- but before the thing can get completely away from him, Gediman grabs it
and sticks it in the amnio. Someone shuts the top rapidly.
Everybody looks at each other for a moment.
A surgeon looks at Ripley's readings.
Gediman looks at Wren, hopefully. Wren nods.
Sew her back up.
Gediman and the surgeon get to work, as the others carefully remove the alien.
Well, that went as well as could be expected--
Ripley's hand LASHES OUT, GRABS the surgeon's forearm. He yells in pain as her fingers
dig into him, the others scramble knocking things over and we HEAR HIS BONE CRACKING.
SMASH CUT TO:
INT. RIPLEY'S CELL
Ripley crouches in the middle of a small, dark chamber. She's wide eyed, staring straight
ahead in a state of near catatonia. Hair tangled and wild. But at least she's not so blue
The only light on her comes from directly above, from a thick pane of glass in the center
of the ceiling.
ANGLE: ABOVE THE CELL
A guard stands on the floor above, looking into the cell through the square of glass in
the floor, directly above Ripley.
(We see other panes of glass lining the floor, indicating more cells below.)
She is still for a long while. Then she lifts her hands, looking at them.
Touches her face, her skin.
She fingers her tunic, pulls down the neck. There is a scar running along her chest.
She fingers it thoughtfully. -
She looks at her forearm. Tattooed near the crook of her elbow is the number 8.
She looks up, her face unreadable.
Ripley is sitting on a table as Gediman draws blood from her.
He deposits it in a test beaker, studies her eyes.
Wren enters, looking at a chart.
How's our number Eight today?
Appears to be in good health...
(noticing his to
Extraordinary . As in, completely off our projected charts.
(shows him some photos) Look at the scar tissue. See the recession?
This is from --
This is good. This is very good.
I'd like to run some tests: strength, coordination... We're not looking at a
normal cloning arc.
Wren goes up to Ripley, studies her face with satisfaction.
Well, it looks like you're going to make us all very proud.
She grabs his throat with dazzling speed, applying deadly pressure as she
brings his face to hers. Her eyes are burn but lost.
Oh my god...
He is as wide eyed as WREN , and he isn't having his windpipe crushed.
After a moment the shock wears off and he slams his hand into the alarm.
Klaxons, red light fire up.
A guard rushes in, levels his weapon at Ripley. After a moment of staring him down,
she opens her hand. Wren falls to his knees gasping.
The guard FIRES his rifle at her -- a powerful electrical charge lashes out
and sends her flying back into the corner.
No! No! I'm all right!
The guards keep their weapons -- 'burners' , these shockrifles are called -- leveled
at Ripley. She has recovered from the shock quickly, sits crumpled in the corner,
looking at nothing in particular.
INT. OBSERVATION ROOM
Wren and Gediman watch through a one way mirror as a scientist tests Ripley.
With them is General PEREZ, the man in charge this boat. Ramrod straight and about
as gruff as you would expect, he stares at Ripley suspiciously.
The scientist is holding up cards with pictures on them: house, dog, boat.
Ripley gives answers we can't hear through the glass, looking pissed off and bored.
Totally! She's operating at a completely adult capacity.
And her memories?
There are gaps. And there's some degree of cognitive dissonance.
Wren shoots Gediman a stern look at his unscientific parlance.
"It" has some connective difficulties. A kind of low level emotional autism.
Perez looks at Ripley through the glass, then exits into the hall.
INT HALL - CONTINUOUS
The two scientists follow, pace him as he strides down towards a second observation room.
But the thing is, we can't terminate her. It.
You haven't told me what you think has caused this.
Cloned genes don't contain memory cells, not even when they're brought
to adult term. I'm right?
There's been cases
Not like this.
Well, we don't have nearly enough data... but in some cases there is a collective
memory passed down generationally . At a genetic level. Like instinct,
only more complex structurally.
In some cases . You're talking about the alien.
You promised me there wasn't going to be any crossing.
It's not like the other ones..
Perez punches code, puts his hand on the scanner and the second observation
room door opens.. He steps in, the other two right behi nd him.
INT. OBSERVATION ROOM TWO
Darker than the first one, and with two of the heavily armoured guards by the door.
Apart from-that, identical. Perez turns to the others.
But there is some genetic mix.
Will there be further mutation?
Mutation isn't exactly... I don't think so.
That's one of the things we need to study.
All right. You can keep it. But secure, under obso , and for God's
sake keep it away from here. I don't want any more surprises.
And as he speaks the ALIEN RISES RIGHT BEHIND HIM -- it's big, the ridges on
its head indicating a young queen -- it hisses and LUNGES at the back of his head.
The reinforced plastic window between them, which we couldn't see, stops it.
As it hits, a thin laser grid buzzes to life, sparks crackling on the alien's face.
Its bile trails darkly on the glass as it backs off.
Perez turns to look at it with the others.
It took a hell of a lot to get us here.
Wren shoots him another look.
How soon before this one's ovulating?
Is that normal?
No way of knowing for sure, but I'd say it's accelerated.
(After a moment) We're going to need the supplies.
They're coming. Soon.
INT. MESS HALL
Ripley sits across from Gediman. He is eating at a good pace - Ripley, however, has
stopped. She is staring at her fork, her brows furrowed. Turns it over in her hand,
in her mind.
The memory comes, and she shakes her head wearily.
GEDIMAN (pretending to correct her)
Ever so slightly, she smiles. The smile fades, and after a moment:
How did you...
How did we get you? Blood samples from Fiori 16. On ice.
Do you remember that place?
Does it grow?
Does it.....Yeah. Rapidly.
It's a queen.
How did you know that?
It'll breed. You'll die. Everyone in the ... fucking....
(searches for the word, then spits it out) ... company. Will die.
He has entered behind her, comes up to the table.
Our Ripley's former employers. Terran Growth conglom, had some defense contracts
under the military. Before your time, Gediman -- they went under decades ago, bought
out by Walmart. Fortunes of war.
You'll find things have changed a good deal since your time.
1 doubt that.
We're not flying blind here, you know. This is United Systems military, not some
greedy corporation. The potential benefits of this race go way beyond urban pacification.
New alloys, new vaccines ... there's nothing like this in any world we've seen.
You should be v
She laughs, bitterly.
Oh, I am.
And the animal itself is wonderous. They'll be invaluable once we've harnessed them.
It's a cancer. You can't teach it tricks.
This stops Wren, and he retreats silently. Ripley repeats word to herself, thinking.
INT. HALL CONTINUOUS
As Wren is leaving the mess, he is accosted by an ensign.
Doctor, General Perez is asking for you. We've been hailed.
EXT. DEEP SPACE
we see the Auriga far in the distance Suddenly A SHIP ROARS INTO FRAME, heading for it.
A small vessel, it is every bit dirty and jerry-rigged as the Auriga is pristine.
To accentuate the difference, the sudden roar of its engines is accompanied by
HEAVY, THRASHING ROCK MUSIC.
INT. COCKPIT CONTINUOUS
The music is coming from nearby. Piloting the ship toward the Auriga is HILLARD,
a roughskinned woman in her forties, along with RANE, a slight and quiet fellow.
Behind them stands ELGYN, the leader of the group.
Has the kind of authority that doesn't need to flaunt itself.
Maybe fifty, by the silver in his hair. He speaks into the vidcom
My authorization code is 'fuck you' , son. Now open the goddamn bay or General Perez
is gonna do a Wichita stomp on your virgin ass.
He switches off.
I guarantee that boy's. never seen the inside of a woman.
Bring us in on three-oh descent, ride the parallel.
Darlin', it's done.
Don't cut thrust till six hundred meters. Give em a little fright.
He puts his hand on her shoulder, runs it up along her cheek as he exits.
They're more than friends.
He moves through a hallway, sticks his head in a cubicle.
Christie! St Just! Rise and shine. We're docking.
He proceeds into:
INT. CARGO BAY - CONTINUOUS
It's the largest space in this boat, two stories high. Taking up most of the space
are two HARVESTERS, big rusty hovering threshers roughly the size of winnebagos.
As Elgyn enters, we CRANE UP to reveal ANNALEE-CALL working atop one of them.
She's young, tough -- at home with this motley bunch despite her youth and prettiness.
The music is louder here -- it's blasting from a box in the corner.
Elgyn switches it off.