Lowell Bennett
Writer, Editorial Consultant, Photographer - China / International
Content / Strategies for Publications and Enterprise


This original screenplay, conceived as a mid-budget sci-fi with few special effects, packages an allegorical ecological warning with action, intrigue, irony and societal commentary.
Elementary Logline:  In the near future, to save Earth a beleaguered researcher, aided by a shadowy faction and a forceful woman of mysterious origins, struggles against a pseudo-democratic authoritarian system with events and revelations accelerating to a conclusion of biblical proportions.
Alternative Ending:  At the approximate equivalent of page 110, plot splits to two alternative endings: 1) Shorter, at 117 pages, with less optimism; 2) Longer, at 150 pages, with optimism (and romance).


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"DivineNation"

by

Lowell Bennett

Copyright © / WGA / US Copyright Office


FADE IN:

EXT.  THE PALMS OF A TREE - DAY

It is quiet deep within in the protective darkness of lush
leaves.  Seeming to hide herself away, a species of small
Central American monkey sits at the crux of branch and trunk.
The simian face is clearly distressed, or saddened.  Wrapped
tightly around her infant son, the mother's arms shiver.
Not from cold, for it is very hot here; she quivers with fear.

The stillness is shattered by a deafening shriek.  Long ago
only the roar of a massive beast could have filled the
ancient forest, but this howl is ceaseless and mechanical.

The horrible whine is joined by another sound: the wailing
grind of metal teeth on wood.  The mother wraps her arms
tighter around her child and vibrates with panic.  She knows.

The tree trembles as its long life is ended.  The mother's
horrified scream joins with the mechanical wail.  The
uppermost branches holding the small animals arc downward
from view.

This was the last tree.

Here a rain forest and its inhabitant beings had flourished
for millenniums.  Now there are only stumps and infertile
earth charring under an unnatural searing sunlight.

EXT.  EDGE OF THE WASTED FOREST - SAME TIME

Close to the ground, within the low-lying tangle of parched
weeds and palmetto fronds, a camera lens absorbs the distant
view of fallen trees and the men operating the saw.  Nearby
the cutters is a large open-bed truck, two smaller all-
terrain vehicles and a detachment of about 10 militia
equipped with brimmed hats, heavy sun visors and assault
rifles.  The armed men hang about; leaning, squatting,
sitting, cradling their automatic weapons.

The camouflaged man with the digital camera lies prone.  Had
he instead cradled a weapon with scope, he would be a sniper
about to eliminate the chainsaw men and militia a few
hundred yards in the distance.  He clicks the shutter, the
camera chirps.

                         MILITIA MAN-1 (OS)
                   (Central American dialect)
            I think you are dreaming.

CAMO MAN goes completely still.

                         MILITIA MAN-2 (OS)
            No.  I tell you, he is here.

Dry brush crackles under four nearing footsteps.

                                                            2.



                         MILITIA MAN-1
            Yeah, yeah.  Spookyman in the grass.

The boots of the militia men now move slowly to either side
of Camo Man.  The barrels of advanced M16A6's hang just
above.  Camo Man stops breathing.

MILITIA MAN-2 stops, cocks his head, listens.  MILITIA MAN-1
looks to his partner.

                         MILITIA MAN-2
            Shit.  I know the bastard is here.

                         MILITIA MAN-1
            Sure, sure, sure, sure.

The men move on, passing Camo Man by.  They hold up about 50
feet beyond and scan the dry weedy growth bordering the
wasted forest.  Camo Man focuses his camera on the two
soldiers and the grim scene beyond.  He clicks-off a few
more shots, the camera beeps softly.

Ears tuned, Militia Man-2 freezes.  Camo Man eases the
camera to a small backpack and begins to reverse crawl from
the area.  Militia Man-2 seems to sense it.  He pivots and
starts slowly in the direction of Camo Man, assault weapon
half raised, ready.

                         MILITIA MAN-1
                   (rolls eyes - follows)
            Shit.

Camo Man reverses at a quick crawl to the edge of a five-
foot-deep dry drainage trench.  The militia men are about 50
feet away and bearing down.  In one motion Camo Man drops
into the trench, slings his backpack and begins to move
quickly at a stooped run.

                         MILITIA MAN-2
            There!  There!

The militia men sprint, but Camo Man is extremely fit and
moving very fast.  He nears a 90-degree bend in the trench
when automatic weapons open up with an extremely fast TET-
TET-TET-TET-TET-TET...  The dry soil just behind and around
Camo Man kicks up with impacts and he rounds the corner
when... POOMP, a grenade fires from a rifle launcher and...
BLAM... the trench behind Camo Man vaporizes into a cloud.

Camo Man's legs power him around another bend and he is gone.

EXT.  UNDER THE SEA - DAY

A diver equipped with a lightweight helmet and other high-
tech gear swims in open water.  To his front in both hands
he holds a sophisticated multifunction navigation system.

                                                            3.



He alternates his view ahead and to the varying glowing
readouts displayed on the device.  The temperature gauge
reads: 85... 86... 87... 88...

He nears an elevated rock ledge, beyond which the undersea
terrain is not yet visible.  There is a total absence of sea
life; only sterile rock outcroppings.  The diver crests the
ledge and suddenly stops.

Beyond and below the seabed seethes.  Hot plumes stream from
the sandy bottom; fire trailing to steam in a field of
undersea geysers - hydrothermal plumes.

The diver lets the navigation instrument hang from its
sling, reaches for his buoyancy control device and releases
air.  He sinks to stand on the ledge while he surveys the
tortured terrain beyond.  From a holster on his hip he takes
a small advanced underwater video device and begins to record.

He pans left and right while behind him a six-foot shadow
drifts into view.  He continues to pan until his view takes
in the shadow.  He drops the video device from his face
plate and stares as the shape drifts closer.  A large sea
turtle is belly up, suspended, a decomposing mass.

The diver watches the body drift eerily by as he holsters
the camera.  He inflates his BCD and steps from the ledge.
On a gradual ascending angle he swims out over the geyser
field heading for the surface.

EXT.  SURFACE OF THE SEA - DAY

To the horizon there is nothing to see but a light chop and
a beautiful toxic haze illuminated by a blazing sun.  The
diver's helmet breaks surface.  He reaches for the face
plate clamp and flicks the release.  A whisper of released
vacuum is heard and the tempered glass shield opens.

The diver, BADER, a dark-skinned man with piercing eyes,
looks to the horizon.  He turns.  Onshore, seemingly just
beyond a waiting speedboat, a large city is shrouded in smog.

A sonic boom shatters the orange sky and an advanced
warplane rockets overhead to circle the city.

EXT.  SPACE

In silence there is nothing but stars in blackness.  In the
distance a small white shape moves from shadow into sunlight.
Steadily increasing in size, the second-generation space
shuttle takes form.  Without a sound the ship executes a
slow roll as it speeds forward and passes.

INT.  SPACE SHUTTLE COCKPIT

The pilot, TOM, and copilot, FRANK, both mid 30's, execute
routine duties.

                                                            4.



They are attentive to glowing instruments, touching buttons,
adjusting a pivoting control.  Visible ahead through the
cockpit view is only space.

                         FRANK
            Station Beta Control, we've
            completed rotation and are orbit
            course regular.  All normal.  Going
            to auto-nav.

                         STATION CONTROL (FILTERED)
            Roger that, Frank.  Maintain.
            Enjoy your evening.  You and Tom
            have a nice spin and we'll see you
            soon.

The two pilots click a few more controls, lean back.

                         FRANK
            Same old stuff.

                         TOM
                   (smiles)
            Yeah.  The routine is killing me.

Frank unstraps, begins to rise from his seat.

                         FRANK
            I'll check on the crew, report
            status.

                         TOM
            You're not going to take in the view?

                         FRANK
            No thanks.  Seen it plenty.
            Besides, it has begun to depress me.

                         TOM
                   (beat)
            I know what you mean.

Frank begins to make his way to the rear of the cockpit. Tom
turns to check Frank's exit.  The expression on Tom's face
changes from neutral to serious.  He reaches to a pocket and
comes out with a high-tech camera identical to that which
the Camo Man used.  He is readying it when Frank reappears
behind.

                         FRANK
            What the hell is that?

As he turns to Frank, Tom's expression goes back to casual.

                         TOM
            What's it look like?

                                                            5.



                         FRANK
            A friggin' camera?  What's your
            plan, Pilot, shooting stars?

As they speak the edge of the Earth appears in the forward
view, slowly expanding with the roll of the shuttle.

                         TOM
            Not exactly.

Frank looks to the Earth and seems to think very hard.

                         FRANK
            Please tell me you're not...

                         TOM
            Yeah, I am.

                         FRANK
            You know, both our asses will be
            busted-down if they find out.

The Earth is now perhaps 20% visible; not looking quite right.

                         TOM
            It's not your ass if you don't know.

                         FRANK
            I don't?

                         TOM
            You don't.

                         FRANK
            How's that?

                         TOM
            You're in the cabin, you got
            witnesses and the images are time-
            stamp transmitted.

The Earth is now about 50% in view.  But something is very
wrong.

                         FRANK
                   (pauses - thinks)
            I don't know why you would want
            shots of that ugly thing, anyway.

It is as if a hole gapes, a discolored void at the north.
The ice caps are more than 50% gone, broken into drifting
continents of melting mass.  For perhaps hundreds of miles
surrounding the continents, muddy plumes of pollution have
replaced what was once blue water.  Massive smothering
clouds of gray are floating above the globe.

                                                            6.



This is a diseased and dying planet.  Tom is shooting, the
camera chirps and the images are transmitted.

INT.  BISHOP'S OFFICE - DAY

This is an expansive, plush, dimmed chamber festooned with
Catholic artwork.  BISHOP CARMEL, an aristocratic Hispanic
man, sits behind his expansive desk looking to the only
modern item in the room: a wafer-thin video monitor.
Tapping a small pad at the front of the screen, he scrolls
through a document heavy with images.  His head is tilted up
and he peers down his nose at charts, photos of a diseased
Earth, volcanoes, masses of people.

Sitting in the facing chair at the other side of the desk is
Dr. ADAM JACOBS, about 40, dark features.  It would be hard
to tell that he is handsome.  He is weary-looking; dark
circles under his eyes, disheveled hair, a two-day growth of
beard.  He studies the face of Bishop Carmel as the cleric
clicks through the document.

Carmel pauses, raises his eyebrows, sits back in his chair.
He thinks a moment, then reaches to the display, touches the
side and with a hiss a small diskette ejects from the edge
of the screen.  Carmel removes the disc.  The screen
disappears into the desk as Carmel reaches and places the
disc closer to Jacobs.

                         CARMEL
                   (flat - cultured
                   Latin accent)
            Very interesting.

Jacobs studies the man a moment, waiting for something else.

                         JACOBS
            May I ask if you believe the
            conclusion is valid?

                         CARMEL
            Conclusion?  I think you mean theory.

                         JACOBS
            If you prefer.  Do you find the
            underlying theory to be credible?

Carmel brings his palms together and places the peaked tips
of his fingers under his chin.

                         CARMEL
            Dr. Jacobs, you don't actually
            expect me to answer that with an
            affirmative, do you?

                                                            7.



                         JACOBS
                   (beat)
            Am I to assume that you disagree,
            then?

Carmel offers a condescending smile.

                         CARMEL
            Perhaps it is best, that as a
            representative of the Church, I
            offer neither concurrence nor dispute.

                         JACOBS
            Excuse me, Your Excellency, but
            that response seems more legalistic
            than clerical.

                         CARMEL
            Perhaps.  But I'm afraid that is
            all that I can offer you.

                         JACOBS
            Then you offer nothing.

Carmel is somewhat surprised at Jacobs' aggressive tone.

                         CARMEL
            Doctor, what do you expect?
            Really, sir, what do you think I
            could, or would, do, assuming I
            thought your theory held merit?

                         JACOBS
            Perhaps you could provide practical
            guidance to your people, instead of
            a continuing flow of medieval dogma.

                         CARMEL
                   (studies Jacobs)
            I must say, you do have some, what
            is the expression?  Nerve.  You
            have some nerve.
                   (pause)
            Frankly, when Father Dominic
            petitioned for this meeting on your
            behalf, I thought he was mildly
            deluded.  But he is an elder so I
            acquiesced.  Now, however, I have
            determined that the good father is
            due for sabbatical.
                   (pause)
            It is clear he has weakened under
            pagan influence.

Jacobs pauses to consider the threat.

                                                            8.



                         JACOBS
            Bishop Carmel, when did you last
            visit the streets of this city?
            Have you recently walked among your
            followers, here or elsewhere in the
            world?

                         CARMEL
            Don't insult me, Doctor.

                         JACOBS
            How much more?  How much more, Your
            Excellency?  How much more before
            the Church alters what is, even you
            must admit, a doctrine perpetuating
            suffering and degradation.

                         CARMEL
                   (long pause)
            Doctor, what I am about to say I
            will deny if you repeat it.  How do
            you say, this is off the record.
            Much of what you say I believe.
            Your final theory seems outlandish,
            but I am not a man of science, so I
            will not speculate as to its
            credibility.  But, again, you can't
            really expect me to exploit my
            personal relationship with the Holy
            Father for the benefit of this...
            crusade of yours.

                         JACOBS
                   (thinking)
            Will you at least forward the data
            to the Vatican Counsel?

                         CARMEL
            Absolutely not.  And, Doctor, I
            realize you are a consultant to
            your government, but since 2010, I
            thought only military and executive
            level had access to satellite
            images.  Isn't it highly illegal to
            obtain, much less circulate that
            data?

Jacobs thinks a moment, perhaps choosing a response.

                         JACOBS
            This was done by special arrangement.

Carmel now reaches for the disc, stands, holds it out to
Jacobs.

                                                            9.



                         CARMEL
            I see.  I will not join in a plot,
            Doctor.
                   (smiles)
            I like my job too much.

As if on cue the door to the office opens and two Hispanic
plainclothes security men enter and stand behind Jacobs.
Carmel gestures with the outreached data disc.

                         CARMEL
            Good day, Doctor.

Jacobs takes the disc, turns, starts for the door.  But
Carmel interrupts his exit.

                         CARMEL
            And Doctor...

Jacobs stops, partially turns to Carmel.

                         JACOBS
            Yes?

                         CARMEL
                   (snide smile)
            God be with you.

Jacobs gives the man a look, turns and leaves.

INT.  CHURCH ADMINISTRATION BUILDING HALLWAY

The hall here is wide, expensively finished and modern, but
also heavily adorned with older Catholic images and
sculptures.  The two security men flank Jacobs as he heads
to the exit.  It's a long walk and all that is heard are the
men's purposeful steps.

Jacobs stops near the huge, heavily fortified double doors
that seal the building.  He reaches for a pocket and puts on
heavily tinted, full coverage sunglasses.  One of the guards
steps ahead, places his palm on a wall panel.  With a
mechanized sound, something like a huge vacuum releasing,
the doors drop in their frame about two inches then swing
outwards.

The quiet is shattered as blinding light and fumes spill in
through the door.

EXT.  CITY STREET OUTSIDE CHURCH BUILDING

Jacobs exits into a world of chaos.  Ten feet beyond the
building, standing at five-foot intervals, about twenty
heavily armored, helmet-wearing guards stand cradling
M16A6's and grenade launchers.  Black visors shield their
eyes from an unnatural searing sunlight.

                                                           10.



The emblem on their sleeves is that of Vatican security, the
elite papal Swiss Guard.

Beyond the enforced buffer zone is a street choked with
fuming, rotting automobiles and third world humans.  People
cram seemingly every square foot of the scene.  They spill
from adjacent buildings, they are camped along every inch of
what was long ago a sidewalk.  They hang from tenement
windows.  They pour out and move around the immobile
vehicles like a flood.  A layer of pollution lays; a glaring
fog across the scene.

Occasionally a person will lose footing near the church
security line and a Swiss Guard will force them back with
his weapon.

Jacobs grimly surveys the scene.  On the wall of a building
facing him, Jacobs stares at the incongruous site of a large
video screen displaying advertising.  It says:  "NetCom,
bringing the world to you."  Then appears the image of an
SUV barreling down a green county road.  Jacobs takes this
in and shakes his head.

The nearest guard is turned to Jacobs, obviously scrutinizing
him.  Jacobs notes this and, seemingly reluctantly, he steps
from the cleared perimeter and becomes one of the mass; a
purposeless tide of human suffering.

EXT.  HOTEL CALANDRA - DAY

Here, too, a line of armed security guards buffer the
entrance to a moderately decent hotel.  And here, too, a
flood of people move by, though amongst the tattered are a
few who are dressed fairly well.  One of the latter, Jacobs
emerges from the crowd into the hotel zone.  He is now
filthy, sweating, coated with the city's pollution.

Another NetCom screen affixed to the hotel beams advertising,
this time: "Legal around the world, Lexita, a natural
relaxant!"

A guard steps from his position and squares-off with Jacobs.
Jacobs is at first surprised, then, remembering, he reaches
into a pocket and produces a hotel photo / print ID card.

The GUARD takes the ID from Jacobs, studies the photo and
Jacobs' face.  The Guard reaches for his belt, retrieves a
small card reader device, inserts Jacobs' ID, holds the
device out to Jacobs.  Jacobs places a thumb on the print
pad, a light goes green.  The guard returns the card to
Jacobs, steps out of the way and returns to his position.

A weary Jacobs moves on to the hotel entrance.

                                                           11.



INT.  HOTEL CALANDRA LOBBY

Jacobs enters the relief of filtered air conditioning,
pauses, takes a few deep breaths then moves into the
expansive lobby.

He is heading for the elevator when he notices the darkened
cocktail lounge just off the lobby.  He stops, considers
this a moment, then heads for a much needed drink.

INT.  HOTEL CALANDRA COCKTAIL LOUNGE - EVENING

The dimly lit cocktail lounge is half full with a well-
dressed clientele.  Easy-listening Latin techno pipes in.

Jacobs has had a few and looks like hell.  A tall glass with
remnants of sweet juice and booze is pushed to the working
side of the bar, a fresh one is in front of him.  He plucks
a paper umbrella from the new, very red drink, drops it into
the old glass.  He takes a pull from the new drink, grimaces.

On the wall behind the bar, a smaller NetCom screen spins
out video advertising, this time volume is heard:
audio/video pitches for varying products.

The diver ambles into the room.  BADER is a well built man,
possibly of African decent, slightly younger than Jacobs.
He takes a quick look around, settles his gaze on the bar
and moves in that direction.  He sits one stool down from
Jacobs, who gives the man a quick look and goes back to his
drink.

                         BADER
            I thought you gave it up?

                         JACOBS
            What?

                         BADER
            Cocktails.

                         JACOBS
            Oh.  Those.

Jacobs takes another pull.

                         BADER
            Well?

                         JACOBS
            I thought I'd give it another try.

Bader signals the bartender, an attractive Latino woman.
She nods as she finishes up with another customer.  Bader
gives Jacobs' fruity cocktail a rather disdainful look.

                                                           12.



                         BADER
            What the hell is that thing?

Jacobs takes a pull and grimaces before answering.

                         JACOBS
            I think its called a Sunburst,
            Moonglow... something like that.

                         BADER
            Good God.

                         JACOBS
                   (drinks)
            Yes.  Indeed.

                         BADER
            Well, if you're going to kill
            yourself, at least do it with real
            booze.

The BARTENDER arrives.

                         JACOBS
            Agreed.

                         BARTENDER
            Good evening.

                         BADER
            Hi.  Kettle One, rocks, lime.  And
            I think my friend here would like
            something else.

                         BARTENDER
            I am sorry, for many years we have
            had no limes.  Would you like a
            splash of Sprite?

Both men give the Bartender a blank look.

                         BADER
            Uh, that's okay.  Just straight.

Bader hands his ID to the Bartender, who looks to Jacobs.

                         JACOBS
            Mount Gay Rum over ice, please.

                         BARTENDER
            Sure, coming up.
                   (reaches for Jacobs' glasses.)
            Fini?

                                                           13.



                         JACOBS
            Yes, gracias.
                   (beat)
            One more request?

                         BARTENDER
            Yes?

                         JACOBS
                   (gestures to NetCom)
            Can you turn that damn thing off?

                         BARTENDER
            We are not allowed to turn it off,
            but I can lower the volume.

                         JACOBS
            Please.

Both men watch the Bartender strut away.  She reaches to a
control and the NetCom audio goes off.  Bader turns to
Jacobs and gives the weary, disheveled man a long look.

                         BADER
            You know, you look like shit.

                         JACOBS
            Thanks.

                         BADER
            You should really try to get some
            sleep.

                         JACOBS
                   (pauses - grimaces)
            I appreciate the suggestion.

                         BADER
            My pleasure.
                   (pause)
            Any luck with the clergy?

                         JACOBS
            No.  As expected.

                         BADER
            You know the problem...

                         JACOBS
            What?

                         BADER
            You're a goddamn agnostic.  You
            should've gone in hail-Marying all
            over the place, kneeling and
            kissin' his ring.  You might've
            gotten somewhere.

                                                           14.



                         JACOBS
                   (beat)
            Maybe I should've blown him.

                         BADER
            Even better.

The bartender returns, places the cocktails, sets Bader's ID
down next to his drink, smiles and is off to other business.

                         BADER
            What about Tom's images, raise any
            eyebrows?

                         JACOBS
            Yes.

Bader waits.

                         BADER
            Well?

                         JACOBS
            He made a veiled threat.

                         BADER
            Such as?

                         JACOBS
            Nothing specific.  I doubt he would
            turn us in unless there was
            something in it for him.

                         BADER
            Hmm.  Did he know the source?

                         JACOBS
            No.  He assumed they were satellite.

                         BADER
            I suppose that's something.  Then
            it's only yours and my ass locked
            up for three years.  At least Tom
            stays clear and keeps his wings.

                         JACOBS
                   (sarcastic)
            Yes.  We're looking really good.

The men pause for a long drink.

                         BADER
            How did Ed make out down south,
            back yet?

                                                           15.



                         JACOBS
            I sent him home.  A few minutes
            after his images transmitted the
            local militia stumbled onto him.
            But we got the photos.

                         BADER
                   (turns to Jacobs)
            He okay?

                         JACOBS
            Barely.  He said if he was one step
            slower they would have, as he put
            it, "shot my white ass off."

                         BADER
            Good thing that guy's legs are
            holding up.

                         JACOBS
            Here's to fast Eddie.

They toast, drink.

                         BADER
            What's next?

Jacobs takes a moment to mull this question.

                         JACOBS
            Marks managed to pull time with the
            committee.  She gave me all of 18
            hours notice, but I've got to take
            what I can get.  Tonight I'm on the
            redeye for the States.

                         BADER
            You already look like the walking
            dead.
                   (beat)
            You should make a terrific
            impression in D.C.

                         JACOBS
            Yes, the good Senator has no
            respect for my schedule, and she
            still thinks I'm 50% crackpot.  But
            she's sympathetic to the overall
            cause.  She bought me 15 minutes.

                         BADER
                   (shakes his head - incredulous)
            That what the end of the world is
            worth to those jokers, fifteen
            minutes of face time?

                                                           16.



                         JACOBS
                   (grim smile)
            Well, they're busy people.

EXT.  BANGKOK - STREET - DAY

It is blistering hot and the smog is as thick as San
Francisco fog.  The street is choked with people and
vehicles - small Japanese cars, pickup trucks and tuk-tuks.
The only vehicles moving are the lane-straddling scooters,
their riders wearing dirtied respirator paper face masks.
The noise is deafening.

Only the police, who move down the sidewalk in small squads
of six, don't wear the paper masks.  The Thai cops wear
full-blown, high-tech lightweight gas masks.

A huge NetCom advertising display is visible from all points
on the street.  Just below the screen a sweating middle-aged
female street vendor stands over her steaming grill in the
already sweltering heat.  Her face mask looks second hand,
perhaps almost new but already black with airborne, manmade
toxins.  She wavers, seeming about to faint, but catches
herself.  She moves her blackened meats to one side of the
grill and falls.  She hits the ground hard, dead, or close
to it.

The mask-wearing people on the packed sidewalk don't give
her a second look.  A six-man squad of cops pushes
pedestrians out of the way to get to the woman.  It seems at
first as if they are there to help.  But one mask-wearing
paramilitary squats, grabs the woman's face roughly in a
gloved hand and slaps her a few times.

Satisfied she is dead, or close to it, he speaks to another
cop, who wears a tank apparatus on his back.

                         THAI COP
                   (Thai)
            Fume it.

The squad pushes back, the tank-wearing cop moves in, raises
a wand attached to the tank by a hose and sprays.  A foaming
chemical covers the woman.  Her clothes and skin quickly
begin to dissolve.

She jerks up and screams horribly, her flesh felling away,
the cops jerk back and reach for weapons, but there is no
need.

The leg muscles release from her bones and she collapses,
screaming until her throat, lungs and heart dissolve into
the filthy pavement.  Then the bones are gone and nothing
remains but a wet spot.

The cops holster weapons and move on.

                                                           17.



EXT.  BANGKOK - A SKYSCRAPER TERRACE - SAME TIME

His face framed in metal bars, a beautiful Thai boy, about
four, looks over the edge of the balcony to the street below.
A thousand feet below, the crammed boulevard is barely
visible through the smog.  Like anemic blood through a fat
man's clogged artery, traffic and pedestrians seem a
congealed mass.

The boy notices something strange; a glow plays across his
face.  The smog changes color, going from gray-brown, to
amber to almost red.  The fumes seem alive, swirling faster.
The boy watches, his young brow furrowed.

As if sucked down by a thermal layer, or some chemical
reaction, the fumes drop low to the ground, leaving clear
air above.

It may have been the spark of a non-restricted exhaust, the
light of a match, but the air at street-level ignites.

Like wall-to-wall napalm, for two blocks a flame races down
the choked street and fills the urban corridor.

Up here, the mass of screams is short and barely heard.
After just a few seconds the flame burns itself out.
Flaming paper debris sparkle in the air, the smog returns to
dead-gray.  The boy looks on, seeming not surprised.

INT.  SENATE HEARING ROOM - DAY

In this modern chamber, lit by sterile indirect lighting,
eleven senators sit elevated in a semicircle looking down to
the room.  All are middle-aged; nine white men, an Hispanic
woman and a black woman, SENATOR MARKS, who wears antique
glasses and sits to the right of the center-seated chairman,
a well-fed SENATOR ELIAS.

In front of each senator is a name plate, a slim pedestal
microphone and very thin plasma display on which images and
data appear.  Occasionally a senator will touch the screen,
perhaps scrolling, opening some linked information.

One plump senator, attentive to his screen, but obviously
disinterested in the proceedings, has a different window
partially opened.  In that space he is looking over images
of entrees and tapping the screen in response to a VIRTUAL
HOSTESS.

                         VIRTUAL HOSTESS
                   (volume way down)
            Thank you... Senator Daggett... for
            your... 12:30... lunch
            reservation... for two people.

Below, looking up to the senatorial panel, sits a pale,
baggy-eyed, disheveled Jacobs.

                                                           18.



Jet-lagged, wearing the same clothes as in Central America,
he evidently missed his chance to shave.  At his side is
TERESE, an Hispanic female, attractive, late 20's.

They share a monitor similar to the senators' displays.
Terese is touching the screen, highlighting links, opening
new windows, pressing 'Send.'  As Jacobs speaks she is
transmitting correlating images and information to the
senators' displays.  She is working quickly.

Elias addresses Jacobs with a stern and affected southern
tone.  The demeanor of Elias, like that of all the impaneled
senators, is more that of a superior court judge, not a
participant in a structured senate hearing.

                         ELIAS
            Dr. Jacobs, you got these here boys
            holding M16A6's.

Jacobs glances at the info Terese is sending.  Several image
windows are opening sequentially.  Photos of the decimated
rain forest appear with Militia Man-1 and Militia Man-2 in
the foreground, their weapons plainly in view.

                         JACOBS
            Pardon me, Senator Elias?

                         ELIAS
            I'm sayin' you got these here
            fellas holding M16A6's.  I know
            this because before moving to chair
            the Energy and Resources
            Commission, I was on the Homeland
            Defense Appropriations Committee.
            We okayed the funds to develop and
            issue this weapon.

Jacobs looks to his immediate front at a large plasma screen
timer imbedded in the rostrum beneath the senators.  It is
counting down his 15 minutes of face time.  It says:
00:06:32 - 00:06:31 - 00:06:30.

                         JACOBS
            I beg your pardon, Senator, but I'm
            not sure what that has to do with
            the issue at hand.  And I'm not
            quite sure what you mean by I got
            these boys holding the weapon.

                         ELIAS
            Just this...

For effect, Elias pauses, looks first to his left, then to
his right at his fellow senators, then goes on.

                                                           19.



                         ELIAS
            This weapon ain't even been
            distributed to our general troop
            divisions yet. Only special forces
            and certain anti-terrorist op teams
            got it, so far.

                         JACOBS
            Senator, I am here to speak to the
            commission about a pending
            ecological disaster of unprecedented
            scope.  I would be happy to come
            back another time to discuss the
            illegal distribution of advanced
            assault weapons to militias and
            foreign government forces...
                   (looks to countdown clock)
            But I would rather stay on point.

                         ELIAS
            See, that's exactly what I'm
            talkin' about, your point.  Here
            we're supposed to believe that you
            know what your talkin' about, but
            the fellows in your computer
            animation lab gone and put the
            wrong guns in the hands of your bad
            guys, here.

                         JACOBS
                   (angering)
            Senator Elias, I hope you are not
            implying that I or my team have
            fabricated...

The black female senator, Marks, jumps in.

                         MARKS
            In the interest of staying the
            course, perhaps we could for the
            moment stipulate, for the record,
            that if indeed the weapons somehow
            found their way to the Morales Agri
            Protection Force, they were not
            sent there via government channels
            and no official present has any
            knowledge of such a transfer or
            transaction.

Elias gives the black woman a false smile and sits back. The
clock ticks down...  SENATOR FARRELL, speaks up.

                                                           20.



                         FARRELL
            Dr. Jacobs, getting back to your
            point, your assertion is that
            despite prior agreements, namely
            the Rain Forest Protection Act of
            2009, and the correlating Southern
            Hemisphere Benefit Protocols of
            that same year, the Calveras
            Government allowed further cutting.

                         JACOBS
            Yes, Senator, that government,
            working in concert with the Morales
            Militia, cordoned off approximately
            9,000 square kilometers, cut off
            public access and continued cutting
            while channeling the So-Hi benefit
            funds through back channel accounts...

                         ELIAS
            So what you're saying is, they took
            our money and kept on cuttin'.  Now
            why in blue blazes...

Jacobs looks to the ticking timer and cuts Elias off.

                         JACOBS
                   (talking fast)
            Very simply, if the Morales group
            was able to keep outside observers
            off the land, allowing the cutting
            to continue, the supplemental funds
            intended for the large scale
            structuring of ecologically-
            friendly agri-business could be
            skimmed.  Meanwhile the indigenous
            populace were directed to continue
            not only the logging, but also the
            sustenance hunting of game meat.

                         ELIAS
            I ain't never heard such...
            Doctor, we had observers down there
            watching...

                         JACOBS
            Respectfully, Senator, your
            observers never ventured far from
            their air-conditioned hotel suites
            and cafes, which, by the way,
            without exception, were
            establishments owned by Calveras...
            associates.

                         ELIAS
            This is utter nonsense.

                                                           21.



                         JACOBS
            Now, of course, that forest is
            gone, as are all inhabitant
            species, and the native peoples who
            were dependent upon that ecosystem
            have nothing.  The militia is
            pulling out and 15 billion dollars
            of redevelopment funds are gone,
            presumably now in the offshore
            accounts of Calveras, select
            members of his cabinet and his
            supposed antagonist, Morales.

                         ELIAS
            Hogwash.  I know Calveras.  He's an
            honorable man.  And I know he hates
            Morales with a passion.  Hell,
            they've had a war goin' on down
            there for seven years now.

Throughout all this, Terese has been rapidly transmitting
info to the senators' displays.  For the most part, they
have ignored that information.  Now she is sending photos of
other uniformed Hispanic soldiers carrying the M16A6's.

                         JACOBS
            Yes Senator, I know.  The war.  A
            war in which opposing forces carry
            the same U.S.-made assault weapon,
            the updated M16A6 of which you
            spoke.  A war in which the
            combatants regularly meet on the
            field of battle not to engage
            armies, but to divvy up proceeds
            and cut deals.

Terese now stops her input, touches Jacobs arm and gestures
to the screen.  There is Bader's video footage of the
underwater geyser field.  Jacobs nods his head, looks at the
ever diminishing timer and attempts to get back on point.

                         JACOBS
            Senators, I would like now to
            direct your attention to your
            displays.  This is footage
            evidencing a field of hydrothermal
            plumes...

Another senator, JONES, cuts in.

                         JONES
            What-what?

                                                           22.



                         JACOBS
            Hydrothermal plumes, Senator, also
            known as 'black smokers.'  In some
            oceans this is a normal and ongoing
            deepsea geothermal event, but this
            footage displays an aberrant
            eruption just offshore near the
            city of...

                         JONES
            Excuse me, Doctor, but I thought we
            were here to talk about the
            supposed elimination of the
            Quantaro Rain Forest Protectorate.
            What has geo... geo-dermal...

                         JACOBS
            Thermal.

                         JONES
            What?

                         JACOBS
            Geo-thermal.  Underwater fire
            erupting from the sea bed, evidence
            of a superheating at Earth's core.
            Further evidence of...

The clock is nearing the one-minute mark and it is clear
that the senators are readying for lunch hour.

                         JACOBS
            ...a cumulative reaction resulting
            from near total ecological
            degradation and an overpopulation
            of the human species...

...30 seconds.

                         JACOBS
            ...that is accelerating the rate of
            global warming which, in accordance
            with Ochoa's Reflective Theory, is
            heating the planet's...

At 15 seconds the senators, except for Marks, start to rise
from their chairs.

                         JACOBS
            Hey!!

The senators freeze, looking down on Jacobs like an
abnormally large and noisy cockroach just entered the chamber.

                         JACOBS
            I've got 15 seconds left!

                                                           23.



The senators continue their exit and begin filing out,
except for Marks.  Elias stops near the last seat, leans to
the microphone.

                         ELIAS
            Son, I do believe your time is up.

                         JACOBS
            Is it my time that is up, senator?
            My time?  Have you been there?
            Have you seen what has happened to
            the last major source...

                         ELIAS
            See here, that's the problem,
            Doctor.  I have seen it.  In fact,
            every senator on this commission
            has seen it.  We've got Earth image
            clearance.  We've seen the dang
            photos.  That damn rain forest is
            still there, every blessed branch
            and leaf.  In fact, the damn
            thing's gotten a right bit bigger
            since the Rain Forest Pro-tection
            Act went into effect.

                         JACOBS
                   (incredulous)
            Bullshit!

Terese's hand shoots to Jacobs forearm and squeezes hard.

                         ELIAS
            'scuse me?

                         JACOBS
            You know that's crap, Senator!
            That forest is gone.  A blind man
            could see that in the satellite
            imagery.

                         ELIAS
                   (eyes narrow)
            Now, why don't you explain just
            what you mean by that...

Marks, still seated, cuts in.

                         MARKS
            I think that's enough.  Dr. Jacobs,
            I know you've been working hard and
            traveling quite and bit.  Why don't
            we...

                                                           24.



                         ELIAS
            No.  I'd like to know just how the
            doctor here can tell me there ain't
            no forest in the photos I just
            looked at one hour ago - classified
            photos that he ain't got the
            clearance to view.  Images made
            secret by the Homeland Anti-
            Surveillance Measures of 2010 and
            the correlatin' NATO compliance of
            2011.  The viewin' of which photos
            might just buy the good doctor here
            three years in a federal lock-up.

                         JACOBS
                   (thinks - responds forcefully)
            Because, Senator, I had a man there.
            A man I trust.  A man who was
            almost killed.  That man was
            transmitting images at the instant
            he took the picture.
                   (pause)
            That forest is gone.  Every animal
            that lived in it is gone.

                         ELIAS
                   (eyes narrow)
            Well now.  If you did indeed have a
            man there, Doctor, I rather doubt
            he was there legally with visa in
            hand.  And if he was there,
            illegally, and I rather doubt he
            was at all, considerin' how hard it
            is to travel 'round those parts,
            then he is a liar and these images
            you brought in here are fakes.

Jacobs stares and steams.  Elias rises from the mike.

                         ELIAS
            And, Doctor, you best thank Senator
            Marks here for your continued
            freedom.  'cause if it weren't for
            her, I would have you detained for
            contempt of congress charges with
            possible sedition charges pending.
                   (pause)
            I'll be seein' you.

Elias leaves the chamber.  All the blood has left Terese's
face.  She sits frozen.  Jacobs sits with a grim, angry
expression.  Marks calmly stares down over her glasses at
Jacobs.

                         MARKS
            That went rather well, don't you
            think?

                                                           25.



EXT.  SENATE ANNEX BUILDING - WASHINGTON - DAY

In front of this modern, multi-tiered building, there is
concrete open space fronting the wide entry steps.  Before a
street jammed with automobiles, pedestrians and protest
encampments, at 40-foot intervals, reinforced, advanced
machine gun fire stations face out to the citizen areas.
Between and among these emplacements, like this were a U.S.
embassy in a foreign and volatile country, armed U.S.
Marines warily stand guard and patrol.  All wear tinted
visors to guard against a scorching sun.

Just out of the senate room, a beat-looking Jacobs and a
still shaken Terese, both with heavy sunglasses, walk down
the steps.  They are flanked by two Marines on escort detail.

                         TERESE
            You can't do that, Adam.

                         JACOBS
                   (distracted)
            What, do what?

                         TERESE
            You can't take them on so... publicly.

Jacobs chews this over a few seconds.

                         JACOBS
            I was wrong to drag you into it,
            but I rather think the time for
            tact is over.

                         TERESE
            I don't regret being there with
            you, just like the rest of us don't
            regret being there.  We're
            believers.
                   (beat)
            But if you continue to push it
            so... publicly, they will start to
            see you as a threat, not just a
            nuisance.

Behind them a tall man in a suit with close-cropped hair is
moving fast down the steps.  He barks like a drill sergeant.

                         SECURITY MAN-1
            Dr. Jacobs!

Jacobs and Terese stop, turn and look to the imposing man.

                         SECURITY MAN-1
            Wait here a moment, please.

                         JACOBS
            For what?

                                                           26.



                         SECURITY MAN-1
                   (stern)
            Just wait.

Puzzled and concerned, Jacobs and Terese look at the man.
Their view is then pulled to the right and further up.
There is Senator Elias, toddling down the steps flanked by
three plainclothes, military-type security men.

Elias, wearing wide sunglasses and a old-style panama hat,
is moving slow.  As he nears he calls out and waves, now of
an entirely different demeanor.

                         ELIAS
            Doctor, good of you to wait.  I
            move a little slow these days.
            'fraid these old knees of mine are
            due for replacement, but I'll be
            sorry to see the real ones go.

Jacobs stares back, warily.  Elias nears, shows the palm of
his hands to his security, meaning 'wait,' and veers off
while signaling to Jacobs to follow.

                         ELIAS
            If you don't mind, how 'bout
            steppin' over here a minute?  We
            can have ourselves a nice little
            private chat.

Jacobs and Terese give each other a look, then he turns and
follows Elias to a point about 30 feet away.  Elias gets up
close, his puffy cheeks flapping as he talks.

                         ELIAS
            Now, listen here, I'm sorry about
            that back in the hearing room.

                         JACOBS
            Sorry?

                         ELIAS
            You betcha.  That ain't the way my
            mama taught me to be-have.  She
            always said, 'If you can't say
            somethin' nice, don't say nothin'
            at all.'

                         JACOBS
                   (skeptical affirmative)
            Uh huh.

                         ELIAS
            See here, I don't think you and I
            are all that far off, on some
            things, anyhow.
                         (MORE)

                                                           27.



                         ELIAS (CONT'D)
                   (beat)
            You know, believe it or not, I
            think we are downright in agreement
            on lots of things.  Two peas in a
            pod, if you...

                         JACOBS
            Senator.

                         ELIAS
                   (beat)
            Yes, Doctor?

                         JACOBS
            I'm not exactly sure where you are
            heading with this, but I have a
            favor to ask in advance.

                         ELIAS
            And what might that be?

                         JACOBS
            Could you please spare me the
            cornball back-country routine?  You
            spent about five minutes in your
            state before and after your
            appointment.  And I don't think
            Yale offered a course in 'good-old-
            boy' vernacular.

Elias gives Jacobs a long stern look, then smiles wide;
maybe for real.  The accent is then gone.

                         ELIAS
            Alright, Dr. Jacobs.  I'll grant
            you that.
                   (beat)
            And, I have to say, while we're on
            the topic of oral expression, in
            this day and age, a non-official
            that expresses himself, or perhaps
            I should say, shoots off his mouth,
            in your fashion is an anomaly.  Do
            you know how fast I, or anybody on
            the hill, for that matter, could
            label you a homeland threat?  Are
            you aware what just being put on
            The Possible List could do to your
            career, your life... your family?

                         JACOBS
            Yes, well, it's just possible that
            I don't believe I have much to
            lose.  And I no longer have a
            family, Senator.  So I'm afraid
            that particular threat rings hollow.

                                                           28.



                         ELIAS
                   (mock surprise)
            Threat?!  No, no, Doctor.  I'm not
            making threats... not at the
            moment, anyway.  That was a
            cautionary statement.
                   (beat)
            I'm simply saying... here, now, out
            of range of the sensors, that you
            should exercise due caution.  You
            are aligning yourself against some
            very powerful interests.  And these
            individuals and entities, to put it
            mildly, look at things somewhat
            differently than you.

                         JACOBS
            Would those interests include the
            petroleum cartel, Senator?

Elias narrows his eyes, smiles.

                         ELIAS
            Perhaps, Doctor.  Regardless, they
            mean business.

                         JACOBS
            Yes, business.  I understand.

                         JACOBS
                   (smiles)
            You must be more cautious, Doctor.
            I know you have something of an
            organization, but, believe me,
            longhairs, tree-huggers, whale-
            lovers, soldiers or flyboys, these
            are no match for... the adverse
            party.

                         JACOBS
            Again, maybe I just don't have much
            to lose.

                         ELIAS
            Yes, yes, right, right.  Well my
            suggestion to you, Dr. Jacobs, is
            that you perhaps modify your
            approach.  Retreat, live to fight
            another day, so to speak.
                   (beat)
            Bad idea to go against me in a
            public arena.

Elias is beginning to pull back to his security men.

                                                           29.



                         JACOBS
            And, this instance, Senator, that a
            threat?

Elias, nearing his people, smiles, raises his voice with
accent.

                         ELIAS
            Like Pappy Elias used to say,
            Doctor, he'd say, 'son, be careful
            or be sorry.'

Elias ambles off with his security in tow.  The group nears
a Marine guard at a small sheltered console.  Elias looks at
Jacobs, smiles, gives a final wave, nods at the guard.  The
guard activates a switch, the seemingly seamless ground
surface under Elias and his security detail drops and they
disappear below.  Another mechanized ground panel moves into
place and the surface is again whole, impenetrable.

Terese and Jacobs look at each other.

EXT.  NEAR MOUNT NYRAGONGO - THE CONGO - DAY

In a jungle clearing within the shadow of this nearly
dormant volcano, a family of eight gorillas groom and nibble
at leaves.  Two primate toddlers play; rolling and swatting
at each other.  The two mothers very gently pull their
offspring apart and hold the children.  The kids launch off
and again tear around.

Looking over all is the dominant male, a huge, aging, but
still very powerful SILVERBACK.

As if something set off their sense of hearing or smell, the
family freezes and looks to the opposite side of the clearing.

Emerging from the bush is a woman, tall, very fit, could be
anywhere from late 20's to 40 in age.  Her face shows no
lines or imperfections, despite a total absence of makeup.
She is western in appearance.  Oddly, because her features
combine dark skin with lighter hair and eyes, from one angle
she might appear somewhat Nordic, from another angle her
features seem almost Hispanic.  Her clothing is simple,
functional to the environment and well-suited to her strong,
sleek frame.  Slung across her back is a flat, oddly
designed, form-fitting pack.

THE WOMAN pauses, looks to the gorilla family and smiles.
The gorillas don't move, cautious, but not afraid.  After a
moment the dominant SILVERBACK male rumbles forward towards
The Woman.  He rushes, aggressive, posturing, defending in
gesture his turf and his family.  He pulls up short, about
six feet from The Woman.  She stands still, showing no fear.

Silverback gives a throaty rumble, bares his teeth, thumps
his chest and swings his arms.

                                                           30.



Then he pauses, stares into The Woman's calm, gray-blue
eyes.  Silverback goes quiet.

The Woman smiles and walks forward.  As she passes the
staring Silverback, she slows and runs her palm gently
across his massive head and around his face.  The family
relaxes as one.  They go back to their grooming and the two
children run forward as Silverback returns to the group.
The youngsters repeatedly circle The Woman as she walks,
reaching, touching her legs.  The Woman smiles, disappears
into the jungle at the volcano's base.

Above, in a blistering red sky, the mountain looms.

EXT.  MOUNT NYRAGONGO - VOLCANO'S RIM - DAY

The volcano is not entirely dormant.  Just beneath the
jagged rim, among the solidified lava and scorched rocks,
the ground simmers.  Like the terrain of an oxygenated
planet too near the sun, the rocks steam like coals within a
pit.  Fumes rise and settle in the hot atmosphere of the
mountain's throat.

And there The Woman stands.  On the very edge of the rim,
her still gaze takes in the smoldering scene.  She steps
forward.  She drops a good six feet to a lower ledge,
absorbing the impact effortlessly into her legs.  She begins
to walk, seeming to look for something lost among the
scorched rocks.

From the opposite side of the crater, it is an unusual
sight; a beautiful woman moving smoothly within the
forbidding terrain.

Lower down, at the center of the pit, The Woman pauses.  She
has perhaps found the lost item.  She kneels then reaches...

EXT.  THE BRANCHES OF A TREE - CONGO - DAY

The sun is now low in the sky.  The gorilla family is
lounging 50 feet up.  Again, they groom, nibble on leaves.
The two children are now still, held dozing in the arms of
their mothers.

Higher up, Silverback looks down over his peaceful family.
If he were human, the primate's expression may have been
that of contentment; satisfaction; happiness.  He makes a
decision, leaps and is gone into the higher branches.

EXT.  WATERHOLE - DAY

The big leopard drinks, alone at the small body of water.
Suddenly the cat stops, raises its head.

Silverback drops from above, landing at the opposite bank.
He immediately sees the cat and freezes.  The two eye each
other for a long moment.

                                                           31.



The powerful animals seem to agree that this is not the time
for conflict.  The cat again lowers its head to drink.
Silverback steps forward, kneels, cups a hand and drinks.

EXT.  THE BRANCHES OF A TREE - SAME TIME

Still high in the trees, the gorilla family dozes.

Below, on the ground about 50 yards from the tree, the large
ferns part.  The barrel of a semi-automatic hunting rifle
pierces the foliage.  A group of 15 armed men, poachers,
carefully step their way closer to the family.

When the dozing primate mother catches the scent, when she
smells the pungent musk of a meat eater, when she fully
opens her eyes, when she feels the tingle of danger within
her spine, when she fears first for the child she holds, it
is too late.

The first volley kills most of the family immediately.

EXT.  WATERHOLE - SAME TIME

The shots echo through the jungle, the leopard and
Silverback jerk their heads from the water.  The leopard
instinctively bounds from the clearing into the bush.
Silverback pauses a few seconds to reason out the meaning of
the strange sound.  He emits a desperate sound and bounds
into the trees.

EXT.  THE BRANCHES OF A TREE - SAME TIME

A mother covers her child as another wave of bullets tears
through the tree.

A few in the family grab futilely for branches, loose their
grip and fall to the jungle floor.  The rapid fire of
fifteen weapons continues and the shredding leaves mix with
flesh and screams as the family is torn apart.

A mother covers her child with her arms and turns her back
to the torrent of bullets.  Her back is pounded into a
bloody mass, she screams, holding her baby even tighter she
falls backward from the tree, the ground rushes up to her
and she slams into the earth.  She protected her child with
her dying body.

The other mother is riddled with bullets just as she flings
her son into the air to a farther tree.  The child catches a
branch and pulls himself up in time to see a bullet explode
his mothers forehead.  She teeters, then, already dead,
falls to the ground.

The gunfire stops, the poachers howl in delight and rush to
pounce on the dead and dying family.

                                                           32.



The toddler is pawing at his mother, trying to wake her when
a net drops over him, he screams and another whoop goes up
from the poachers.  The other child makes his way
frantically down the tree to his own fallen mother.  Before
he can reach her he, too, is scooped up in the poacher's net.

                         POACHER ONE
                   (native dialect)
            Yes!!  Yes!! Good, good, good!  Got
            the little ones, too!

                         POACHER TWO
            Yes!!  All the meat and the babies,
            too.  Good money!  Goooood money,
            today!

Poacher One raises his rifle.

                         POACHER ONE
            Ah-Yeeeeee!!  Ah-Yeeeeee!!  Ah-
            Yeeeeee!!

In response all stop and raise their weapons and hands.

                         POACHER CHORUS
            Yeeeeee!!  Yeeeeee!!  Yeeeeee!!

Poacher One's upturned face sees something in the trees:
Silverback.  The old gorilla stares down on the scene with
human-like shock and horror.  He is frozen, perhaps about to
cry, terrified, uncomprehending at what he sees.

                         POACHER ONE
                   (raising weapon)
            Another one!! Another one!!

He fires fast and the errant bullets impact into the tree
around Silverback.  The other poachers hurriedly follow
Poacher One and more bullets tear through the branches and
leaves around Silverback.  After a second, when the next and
more accurate volley is about to fire, the terrible sounds
register through the shock and with a start Silverback leaps
away into the trees.

The poachers scan the tree line when, unseen by them, it
becomes apparent another has witnessed the horrific scene.

Among the bush on a hill perhaps 100 yards away, The Woman
stands.  Though her face is oddly impassive, her eyes show
sorrow and, perhaps, a glint of anger.

EXT.  NEAR MOUNT NYRAGONGO - NIGHT

In the supernaturally bright moonlight, at the edge of the
clearing, where before he looked over his family, Silverback
sits, broken.  His huge head is down, his chin on his
massive chest.  He is a powerful being now helpless.

                                                           33.



His world is gone.

He breaths heavily, then erupts in a great, human-like sob.
He stifles that, and again breathes deeply.  Sensing
something, he raises his head.

There stands The Woman.  She looks calmly down to Silverback.
He returns the gaze, sorrowful, but not afraid, not angry.
She places a hand on his great shoulder.

EXT.  POACHERS' CAMP - NIGHT

The scene is horror.  In the light of several campfires, the
poachers drink, laugh, work and... eat.  While some feed on
the roasting game meat, three others are at work with knives.
They are butchering the family for the trek to market.

A huge machete rises, slashes down into the thigh of a
mother while from a bamboo cage her child watches, screaming
in horror.  The other child is in a fetal position, breaths
heavy, in shock.

Four poachers sit near a fire.  They smoke and drink.  Red-
eyed and sloppy with liquor, they brag in native dialect.

                         POACHER TWO
            I got three! I know I got three
            myself!

                         POACHER THREE
                   (laughs)
            You are full of shit!  You shoot
            like a woman!  Never get one, not
            one.

                         POACHER FOUR
            Fuck you both.  You are both women!
            Can't shoot, no penis!

They laugh.

                         POACHER THREE
            It don't matter.  We got the money,
            this time.  Big day.

                         POACHER TWO
            Yeah.  Big day.  I get me my money,
            I get drunk, get a whore and fuck
            for two days, that's me!

Poacher Four begins to struggle drunkenly to his feet.

                         POACHER FOUR
            Yes.  Yes.  I won't wait.  I'm
            going to piss this out, then I come
            back and get very drunk right now.
            Maybe fuck you.

                                                           34.



They laugh.  Poacher Four heads to the bush.

Just inside the dark bush the fires of the camp are in the
background.  Poacher Four works at his trousers.  His
eyelids droop and he smiles a drunken, stupid smile as his
urine splatters to the leaves.

Suddenly there is a flash of motion.  Poacher Four's eyes go
wide and his urine stops, retracting into his bladder.  He
raises a hand to his neck where a gaping hole has opened.
The blood, seeming suspended for a moment by vacuum,
releases to gush over his hand and the man drops.

Near the edge of the clearing inside the camp, another
poacher rises from his task to light a handmade smoke.  He
takes a single puff before he is yanked off his feet and
disappears into the bush.  A gurgled, muffled scream is
barely heard.

The two gorilla children raise their heads.  They stand and
move to one side of the cage, looking out.

Near a camp fire four poachers are drunken, dozing or asleep.
As one man's sweating, ugly eyelids begin to fall, his head
is jerked to the side impossibly far and fast and... snap!
He slumps.  The other three drunken men begin to rouse, but
one by one, just as they are becoming conscious, just as the
terror is registering on their face, they are cut down; by
blade or hand, it is hard to tell which.

Now two men at a separate fire are rising, reaching for
guns.  They stare to the fire across the site where four men
are now motionless.  As they attempt to determine the
threat, two flashes take away their lives.

At another side of camp, four other poachers are already
dead, their bodies broken, crumpled.

Poacher One is rising from his stupor, grabbing his rifle,
adjusting his eyes, looking across and around the camp.  The
men he sees could be sleeping.  He calls out.

                         POACHER ONE
                   (dialect - not subtitled)
            Hey!  Hey!  Akimba!  Suto!  What is
            going on?!  Hey, you...

Now, through the fire and the smoke, he sees something at
the far end of the camp... something very strange.

He racks his weapon and starts cautiously forward.  Through
the dark and the haze he is attempting to make out the
figure... a woman!  When he takes another step his foot
catches something.  He glances down and his eyes go wide.
The head of a poacher looks back, barely attached to its
dead body.

                                                           35.



Now Poacher One snaps up his weapon, aims at The Woman and
is about to fire... a huge dark hand closes on the rifle and
it is instantly yanked away.  He whirls, screams.

His vision is filled with the bared teeth and fierce face of
Silverback.  The great ape slashes down hard with the weapon
and... Crack!  The wooden stock breaks over Poacher One's
knee.  The man screams, drops.

Poacher One grabs frantically at a knife holstered on his
hip, brings it up to stab... Silverback grabs the man at the
elbow and begins to squeeze.  The knife drops.  The man's
eyes seem about to explode as the joint cracks and dissolves.

The man whimpers as Silverback now grasps his head.  With
the strength of five men Silverback twists and... its over.
The camp is dead quiet and still, except for the crackling
of the fire.

The Woman walks to where the children are caged.  She
doesn't bother with the crude lock.  She grasps two of the
wooden bars, pulls and the cage is shattered.  The two
children exit the broken prison.  They look up at The Woman,
then go to Silverback.

One of the children leaps to his father's great back while
the other reaches with outstretched palm.  Silverback takes
his child's hand and walks closer to The Woman.

They make eye contact.  Something is exchanged.  Silverback
returns to the jungle with his children.

INT.  LAB DEMO AREA - DAY

In florescent midair the Earth rotates.  It is a seemingly
pristine planet, blue green... beautiful.

                         JACOBS (OS)
            This is a virtualization of 1920.
                   (beat)
            Josh...

The holographic Earth stops rotating, pixelates, dissolves,
materializes looking different.  Jacobs moves his hand over
and into the image as areas to which he points glow in outline.

                         JACOBS (OS)
            At 1990, spectrum-enhancement of
            digital file images reveals a
            degradation in ozone integrity to
            an extent not even guessed at then.
            Also, a 30% loss in rain forest
            cover and an expanding toxin
            prevalence in waters surrounding
            most populated land masses.

                                                           36.



Looking more disheveled and weary than ever, more days of
beard on his face, in this sterile exhibition room Jacobs is
delivering a presentation to Senator Marks and SECRETARY
THOMAS, a tall, well-dressed man, about 50.  The man's brow
is furrowed; as if perplexed, or skeptical.  Marks gazes
through and over her antique glasses, depending on her
varying level of impatience.

                         MARKS
            Yes, Adam.  That's fine.  Secretary
            Thomas has a 12:30 appointment, so
            perhaps we should advance the
            presentation.

Irritated, Jacobs shoots her a look, turns to a bushy-haired
technician, JOSH, mid-20's, at a nearby control console.

                         JACOBS
            Josh... The Secretary and Senator
            are busy people... time lapse and
            accelerate, please.

The hologram Earth stops its rotation, dissipates, then
reappears and rotates more quickly.  In a corresponding
digital readout materializing below the planet, the years
are ticking by.  1991-1992-1993-1994-1995...

                         JACOBS
                   (agitated)
            And here we go Mr. Secretary,
            Senator...

...2005-2006-2007...  The Earth's colors become progressively
less vibrant, a sepia gray haze taking over.  The polar caps
break up.  Plumes of liquid pollution ooze from the
continents in great, ever-increasing ugly bands.

                         JACOBS
                   (fast)
            Within the depicted period you'll
            note a 30% degradation in polar
            coverage, a 27% increase in ocean-
            borne toxin intrusion, a...
            whopping 34% increase in
            hydrocarbon saturation...

Thomas is giving Marks a look, clearly suspect of Jacobs'
stability.

                         JACOBS
            And heeeeerrrrre - though we can't
            say for sure because they won't let
            us see the pictures - here is what
            we speculate is, what we guess
            is... well hell, here is what we
            like to call the Northern Loss.
            This is the burn zone, baby!

                                                           37.



He points to a cloud-like cyclone-shaped mass above Antarctica.

                         JACOBS
            This is the result of all our
            mistakes, Mr. Secretary and Msssss-
            Senator.  The cumulative result of
            all our sins.  This is what will
            bring it all to an end.
                   (beat)
            Here, let me show you.

Thomas, eyeing Jacobs warily, is edging away from the
display.  Marks is now ignoring the hologram and looking
directly at Jacobs, who seems oblivious to the others.
Jacobs looks briefly to Josh.

                         JACOBS
            Josh, accelerate to final, please.

Josh hesitates, looks at the retreating Thomas, to the grim
Marks, and back at Jacobs.  Jacobs is oblivious, still waiting.

                         JACOBS
            Josh...

Josh goes back to his controls. The Earth rotates faster,
the cyclone of the "Northern Loss" expands, the polar caps
disappear, water levels rise, land mass shrinks, green areas
disappear, gray clouds of pollution obscure the planet,
fires spark on a continental scale, the atmosphere ignites,
a bright light emits at the center of the planet hologram
and the image dissolves.

                         JACOBS
            All thanks to an over-abundance of
            the most destructive, wasteful and
            cruel species in the history of the
            planet - humans.

Thomas heads fast for the exit, where five security men stand.

                         THOMAS
            Thank you, Dr. Jacobs.  Senator,
            see you on the hill.

Jacobs takes his attention from the hologram, turns to the
door, Thomas and his three-man security detail exit.

                         JACOBS
            What the hell... where's he going?

                         MARKS
                   (beat)
            Do you know what it took to get him
            here?

                                                           38.



                         JACOBS
            What... 20 grand, 30 thousand bucks?

                         MARKS
                   (gives Jacobs a long look)
            When was the last time you slept?

                         JACOBS
            Not important.

                         MARKS
            Not important?  You have a cabinet-
            level officer in here for a
            presentation, and you...

                         JACOBS
            Don't we have more important things
            to consider than my sleep patterns,
            Senator?  The core mean ambient has
            been exponentially accelerating for
            five years.  We've got tectonic
            analysis data that would curl your
            hair...

Marks, a black woman, gives Jacobs a stare that stops him
cold.

                         MARKS
            Yes, Adam, I know all about global
            warming.  But that doesn't mean I
            buy...

                         JACOBS
            Senator, this is not about warm
            winters and high tides.  We've
            registered anomalies beyond any
            predictions.  We...

                         MARKS
            That's it.  Enough.  This is over.

She heads for the door where her two security men wait.

                         JACOBS
            Wait...

                         MARKS
            No, Adam.  That's it.  I've stuck
            with you to this point.  I pulled
            the committee time, I got Thomas in
            here - which, by the way, probably
            set my career back five years...

                         JACOBS
            Senator, I...

                                                           39.



                         MARKS
            Oh, I know.  I know all about it.
            It's all going to burn up!  Right,
            Adam?
                   (rolls eyes)
            Poof.

                         JACOBS
            Molly, hold on...

Marks stops, pivots back to face Jacobs.

                         MARKS
            Listen, Adam, I was always there
            for you.  While you were fighting
            the good fight for the rain forest,
            I was with you; legislating for
            emission controls, I was with you;
            solar alternatives, I was with you;
            heading-off thermal drilling, I was
            with you...

                         JACOBS
            I appreciate all that you've...

                         MARKS
            And when you decided to butt heads
            with the Vatican on contraception -
            even though the Catholic vote could
            take me out of office - I was for
            you there, too, 100%.  But this is
            too much.  Yes, global warming, a
            reality, but, for God's sake, the
            entire planet is not going to catch
            fire!
                   (beat)
            At least not for a couple million
            more years.

                         JACOBS
            Wait a minute...

                         MARKS
            No, no, no.  That's it.  Call me
            next year... if we're still here.

Jacobs, pretty pitiful with a four-day beard, baggy eyes and
good clothes gone bad, just stands there.  In the open
doorway Marks pauses.

                         MARKS
            And get some sleep.

She exits, her two-man security detail behind.  There's a
long silence as Jacobs looks at the empty door.

                                                           40.



                         JOSH
                   (half sarcastic)
            If you need a break, I've got a
            really stellar girl-on-girl scene
            cued up.

Jacobs gives Josh a blank look.

EXT.  CITY BLOCK - LATE NIGHT

The trashed street is densely populated, mainly with
homeless people.  NetCom video billboards are everywhere.
The pitches are mainly for booze and smokes, but a
voluptuous nearly naked Asian VIRTUAL FEMALE on the display
is working another product.

                         VIRTUAL FEMALE
            Azure - It's legal!  Costs less,
            too!!

She holds up a small blue pill, smiles, pops it in her
mouth, chews and smiles bigger.

                         VIRTUAL FEMALE
            And it tastes like blueberries, baby!

Walking with his head down, Jacobs wears the same clothes he
had on at the lab demo room earlier that day.  A slender
black polymer tablet is under his arm; an advanced laptop.
Some of the street inhabitants eyeball Jacobs, perhaps
sizing him and the laptop up as an opportunity.

Nearing a subway access, Jacobs passes underneath the "Agura
Bank" LCD banner.  This time a Japanese anime-style female
is holding up changing banners, announcing the time.

                         ANIME FEMALE
            It is... 11:47 p.m. and 49
            seconds... enjoy... the rest of
            your day...

Jacobs heads down the subway stairs.  Another man, tall and
lean, in a very light overcoat and vintage fedora, his face
unseen, passes beneath the anime banner.

                         ANIME FEMALE
            It is... 11:48 p.m. and nine
            seconds... enjoy... the rest of
            your day...

The other man follows Jacobs beneath the street.

INT.  SUBWAY STATION

Many of the lights are flickering and most of the station is
in substantial disrepair.  The 40 or 50 people who await the
train all look as if they wish they were elsewhere.

                                                           41.



Two boot-wearing police troopers, both late 20's, and both
on the flabby side, patrol the station carrying submachine
guns and sidearms.  Jacobs nears the platform and both
officers briefly eyeball the tablet he carries under his arm.

Jacobs joins the waiting crowd.

The other man, CARL, an African American with chiseled
features and an athletic build, about 40, enters the station
and stands well back.  About 50 feet from the crowd, he
settles into a not-so visible, shadowy alcove.  The officers
give Carl a look.  Carl looks back, makes eye contact.  He
removes his hat and gives the cops a grin.  Carl is bald.

The white cops stop, turn and walk toward Carl.  They stop a
few feet away.  They look him over a few seconds.  One of
the police, COP-1, approaches Carl.

                         COP-1
                   (not friendly)
            How you doin'?

Carl doesn't answer right away.  He looks into Cop-1's
unpleasant eyes, gives him a nice smile.  COP-2 moves up
next to his partner, his hand dropping to the trigger grip
of his still slung and lowered weapon.

                         CARL
            Fine.  Nice of you to ask.

Cop-1 is not reciprocal to the friendly tone.

                         COP-1
            Where you going?

                         CARL
                   (smiles)
            Well, to be honest, I'm not sure.

                         COP-1
            What does that mean?

                         CARL
            Looks to me like I'm getting on the
            train.

                         COP-1
            You're getting on the train, huh?
            But you don't know where you're
            going.  Is that it?

                         CARL
            Yes, that pretty much sums it up.

                         COP-1
            You're getting on the train to
            nowhere?

                                                           42.



                         CARL
            You could put it that way.

Cop-1 gives Carl an unwavering and long look.

                         COP-1
            You know, smartass citizens really
            piss me off.

                         CARL
            No kidding?

Cop-2 moves his fingers tighter around the trigger of his
weapon and moves the other hand on the stock.

Cop-1 releases the trigger end of his weapon and from his
belt he takes a small device, about the size of a cell phone.

                         COP-1
                   (as if reciting a manual)
            Sir, in accordance with Regulation
            SS-4 of the Special Securities Act,
            I am formally demanding an
            immediate scan for positive
            identification.

Cop-1 opens the device, which gives an activating beep, and
holds it out to Carl.  A one-inch square glows.

                         COP-1
            Sir, please place your right thumb
            on the illuminated reader pad.

Carl places both hands in his coat pockets, smiles.

                         CARL
            No, thank you.

The rattling roar of the approaching train fills the station.
Cop-2 steps back and raises his weapon.  The train is louder.

                         COP-1
                   (as if reciting a manual)
            Sir, you are refusing a municipal
            police officer's authorized order
            for you to comply with a Federal
            security directive.

Cop-2 is in firing position.  Cop-1 lets his submachine gun
hang from its sling, shifts the print reader to his left
hand, takes a handgun from its holster, aims it at Carl.

The train is plowing into the station, loud.  The waiting
crowd is oblivious to what is happening behind in the shadows.

                                                           43.



                         COP-1
            I am hereby issuing a second and
            final demand that you submit to a
            federally-authorized ID scan.  I am
            required by Federal law to warn you
            that failure to immediately comply
            with this demand may result in
            arrest and temporary or permanent
            physical harm, or death by weapon
            or other means.  You have ten
            seconds to comply.

                         CARL
                   (smiles)
            Ten seconds?  Should only take
            about six...

Cop-1 narrows his eyes, wary of Carl's casual attitude.

The train pulls into the station and from the stairs, moving
lockstep at double-time, two very fit uniformed soldiers
round the corner.  Both municipal cops look to these two.
The local police, recognizing the battle dress armored
Special Ops troopers with M16A6's, are backing up, partially
lowering weapons.

Facing off with the cops, weapons targeting heads, the all-
business troopers take up position behind Carl, who smiles.

                         CARL
            Lower your weapons, officers.
            Carry on.

The cops, clearly confused and intimidated, but wanting to
protect their turf, hesitate.

The creaky, dirty train has pulled to a stop and most of the
doors have begun to rattle open.  The crowd, still oblivious
and focused on the train, begins filing into the cars.

                         CARL
            Lower your weapons, move along, or
            we can punch your ticket here and
            now.
                   (beat)
            Got a train to catch.  You have
            five seconds.

The Special Ops troopers calmly look as if they are fully
prepared to blow the cops' brains out.

In one motion, the cops drop and holster weapons and quickly
move off.  The Special Op troopers lower their weapons.

Jacobs, also oblivious, enters a car with the crowd.
Immediately behind him is a muscular, tough-looking BLACK
GUY, about 25.

                                                           44.



Without looking at the troopers, Carl replaces the fedora to
his head, points to the cars at either side of the car
Jacobs just boarded.  The troopers head in those separate
directions.  Carl strolls to Jacobs' car and enters; the
last person in.

INT.  SUBWAY CAR

The dirty, broken-down, half-lit car is mostly full with
unhappy humans, several of whom are standing for lack of
seats.  Carl enters, looks around.  Jacobs is at a window
seat.  Haggard, worn out, disheveled, distracted, Jacobs is
in another world; staring nowhere out of the dirty and
pitted plexiglas window.

Carl spots him, smoothly heads in that direction between the
standing, zombie-like passengers.  The subway doors close.

Sitting next to Jacobs in the aisle seat is the muscular
Black Guy   Carl eases up, speaks to the Black Guy.

                         CARL
            Excuse me, may I have this seat?

Black Guy slowly turns his head, like he's not quite sure
that he is being spoken to.  Jacobs comes out of his daze,
looks to Carl, then to Black Guy.  Jacobs is puzzled, but,
none of his business, he turns back to the window.

                         BLACK GUY
            Say what?

                         CARL
                   (smiling)
            May I have this seat.

                         BLACK GUY
            What seat?  There ain't no seat.

                         CARL
            Sure there is.  You're in it.

Black Guy looks back at Carl, not sure.

                         BLACK GUY
            What?  You got bad feet, or somethin'?

Carl smiles, leans down, whispers into Black Guy's ear.  A
look comes over Black Guy's face.  He's up and gone.

Now Jacobs turns his full attention to Carl, who takes the
seat.  With furrowed brow, Jacobs continues to stare at
Carl, who smiles.  Carl again removes his hat.

The train has not moved.  At the rear, standing in front of
the doors connecting to the next car, a big PUNK, about 20,
pipes up, yelling to the roof of the train.

                                                           45.



                         PUNK
            Come on, maaaan, get this crate
            movin'!

The rest of the crowd barely acknowledges the outburst.  The
train doesn't move.

Jacobs slowly breaks eye Contact with the still smiling
Carl, turns back to the window.

                         PUNK
            Come on, goddammit, MOOOOOOOVE!

The train's public address speakers emit a harsh, loud,
grinding tone and most of the passengers reach for their
ears.  The male SPEAKER VOICE then announces.

                         SPEAKER VOICE
            Attention... Attention... this
            train is now out of service...

Some in the crowd groan.

                         PUNK
            Fuck!!

                         SPEAKER VOICE
            ... please exit immediately...

The old doors rattle open.  Jacobs swings a concerned gaze
back to Carl, who hasn't budged.  He looks back at Jacobs,
the enigmatic grin still on his face.

                         PUNK
                   (to nearest speaker)
            No!  Fuck you man!!  I been waitin'
            for fuckin' an hour!!

A few others in the crowd are muttering and cursing.  They
have begun to drag themselves up to file out of the train.

Jacobs and Carl look at each other.  Jacobs looking a little
worried, Carl is calm.

                         CARL
            Well, that's a hell of a note,
            isn't it?

Jacobs says nothing.  The crowd is filing out.

                         SPEAKER VOICE
            Attention... Attention... this
            train is now out of service...
            please exit immediately...

                                                           46.



                         PUNK
                   (to speaker)
            Fuck you!!  Fuck you!! Fuck you!!

The Punk is still at the rear of the car, next to the door
connecting the following car.  The rest of the unhappy crowd
is making their way to the exit door, past the still sitting
Carl on the aisle seat, and Jacobs, trapped at the window
seat.

                         CARL
            You don't mind if we wait, do you?
                   (beat)
            I never saw the sense in waiting in
            lines.
                   (smiles broader)
            Back when everyone used to fly.
            The plane pulls up to the gate,
            everybody jumps up and stands there
            for five minutes.  Never could
            figure that out.
                   (beat)
            Hurry up and wait ... know what I
            mean?

Jacobs clearly knows something is up.  The crowd is nearly
past Carl and Jacobs, the car almost cleared of people.  The
Punk hasn't left his position at the rear.  He starts to
hammer at the speaker with his fist.

                         PUNK
            Fuck you!! Fuck you!! Fuck you!!

The connecting doors at both ends of the train slam open,
the two troopers smoothly enter, the Punk looks up to the
suddenly open door behind him and... BOOMP.  The butt of an
M16A6 slams into the Punk's face, his nose splits, he drops.

At the opposite end of the subway car the other trooper has
his weapon raised.  The last remaining passengers get the
idea and hurry off the train.

Jacobs, realizing it's pointless, doesn't even attempt to
leave.  He looks at Carl, who hasn't bothered to take note
of any of what just transpired.  He just looks calmly back
at Jacobs.

The Punk is completely unconscious as the trooper drags him
effortlessly down the train isle and dumps him out the exit.

That trooper returns to the far side of the car.  The
troopers after this maintain posts at opposite ends of the
car.  The doors rattle closed.  Empty of all but the four
men, the train moves.

About half the lights within the train are burned out.  When
it moves out of the brighter station, the car dims.

                                                           47.



At regular points where the tunnel is lit, light strobes
through the car: dark - darker - light - dark - darker -
light ...  The shadows and light move across Carl's smiling
face.

                         CARL
            Can't stand crowds.

Jacobs, though clearly wary, is calm.  Not surprised.

                         JACOBS
            Really?  People bother you, do they?

Carl shows mild surprise, like this is not what he expected.

                         CARL
            Yeah, Doc.  It can be tough to have
            private conversations, these days.
            You agree?

                         JACOBS
            Oh yes.  I agree entirely.  It's
            like you're never quite alone.

                         CARL
            True.  Exactly my point.  Seems
            like someone is always looking over
            your shoulder ... reading your
            paper, so to speak.

                         JACOBS
            Right.

Carl doesn't respond, but gives Jacobs a long look.  His
eyes sort of twinkle.

                         JACOBS
            So?

                         CARL
            You know, when I was kid, I lived
            out in the boonies with an uncle.
            That was when there were still a
            few farms.  And this guy - my
            uncle - really tried to stick it
            out.  His idea was, I guess, to do
            what they used to call get back to
            nature.  He just wanted to be left
            alone, raise a few tomatoes, keep
            some pigs, some chickens... that
            kind of thing.

Carl pauses, thinks.  Jacobs stares blankly back.

                                                           48.



                         CARL
                   (as if wistful)
            What a dreamer...
                   (comes out of it)
            So, anyway, that's not really the
            point of my story.  I used to sleep
            in this little extra room he had -
            more like a broom closet with a
            window.  Well, every morning, just
            after the sun comes up, this bird
            used to land right outside the
            window.  Beautiful bluebird.  I
            guess that means he was a he.  Very
            colorful.  I get in the habit of
            leaving a few pieces of bread out
            for him.  Then in the morning I'd
            watch him chow down.  We sort of
            got used to each other and, pretty
            soon, it got to where he would eat
            out of my hand.
                   (pause)
            Can you imagine?

                         JACOBS
                   (stares)
            Sure.  I can imagine.

                         CARL
            So this bird and I sort of
            developed a relationship.  He would
            stop by and we would have an
            exchange.  I would feed him a few
            crumbs and he would give me a few
            'tweet-tweets.'

                         JACOBS
                   (beat)
            Tweet-tweets.

                         CARL
            Yeah.  It was if it was saying,
            'Thanks for the bread, Carl.
            You're a good kid.'  It was sweet,
            being that close to nature.

                         JACOBS
            Right.

The train enters another station but doesn't slow.  The
lights go bright, the train blows fast past the waiting
crowd.  The train again enters the tunnel and the lights
again strobe through the car: dark - darker - light - dark -
darker - light ...

                                                           49.



                         CARL
            Would you believe that me and that
            bluebird got so friendly that he
            would let me pet him?  Really
            something, don't you think?

                         JACOBS
            Yes.  Really something.
                   (pause)
            So what finally happened?

                         CARL
            Excuse me?

                         JACOBS
            What is the moral to your story?

                         CARL
            Moral?  No moral.

                         JACOBS
                   (beat)
            Okay, how did it finally turn out -
            with you, the bird, your uncle and
            the farm... Carl?

                         CARL
            Oh.
                   (pause)
            A case of bad timing, really.  The
            jet stream decided to drop the
            Beijing Blow right on our heads.
            Killed everything.  The tomatoes,
            the pigs, the chickens, my uncle --
            who was kind of sick, anyway -- and
            the bird.  Little guy just flew up
            that morning, landed on the branch,
            gave a little birdy cough and keeled.

                         JACOBS
                   (stares at Carl)
            And you made it okay?

                         CARL
            Me?  Oh yeah.  I was a strong kid,
            I held up.

The two men look at each other.

                         JACOBS
            The only people who survived the
            initial midwest fallout of the 851-
            C cloud, the Beijing Blow, ended up
            in the hospital.  They were all
            dead within a month.

Carl stares back at Jacobs, smiles.

                                                           50.



                         CARL
            Yeah, I know.  Total bullshit.
            Never left the city in my life...
            except to go overseas and blow hell
            out of some Arabs and a few screwed
            Indonesians.
                   (pause - smiles)
            So listen, Doc, the only reason
            you're not dead now is you got
            one -- and one only -- high-up type
            looking out for you.  Get it?

                         JACOBS
                   (stares - unphased)
            Sure, I got it.

                         CARL
            Then you need to know that if you
            step over one more line, that
            person may not be able to protect
            you anymore.  Roger that?

                         JACOBS
            Sure.  I understand.  I'm a really
            lucky guy.

                         CARL
                   (gives Jacobs a look)
            But that's not going to stop you,
            is it?  You're just going to keep
            shooting your mouth off, right?

                         JACOBS
            Maybe.

Carl, for the first time, frowns, sits back in his seat,
thinks.

                         CARL
            You know, Dr. Jacobs, I just
            realized something.

                         JACOBS
            What's that?

                         CARL
            We actually have something in common.

                         JACOBS
            You think so?  Like what?

                         CARL
            We are both fatalists.  Neither one
            of us gives a shit.

                                                           51.



                         JACOBS
            No, Carl, you're wrong.  I do give
            a shit.  Otherwise I wouldn't be
            doing what I'm doing.

                         CARL
            You misunderstand, Doc.  I'm not
            talking about your cause.  I'm
            talking about you, yourself.  You
            don't care whether you live or die.
            That kind of attitude can make for
            a very dangerous man, on the field
            of battle, or otherwise.  As long
            as that kind of person is alive,
            and capable of inflicting damage,
            that kind of person can be very
            dangerous.

Jacobs gives Carl a look and, for the first time, he smiles.

                         JACOBS
            And what about you, Carl?  What
            cause motivates you?  What do you
            care about?

                         CARL
                   (shrugs)
            Nothing lofty, Doc.  Just the
            mission.
                   (pause - remembering)
            Oh, and those gentlemen with the
            guns at either end of the train.
            Them and about 10 more like them.
            I care about them.
                   (beat)
            In the end, I'm just a stupid
            soldier doing what I'm told.  A
            grunt in the trenches, carrying out
            the mission.

                         JACOBS
            And what do you think about the
            mission?  What do you think about
            the people that issue your orders,
            send you on the mission?

                         CARL
            Well, I could tell them to take a
            hike, retire, maybe buy a boat,
            open up a fishing charter business
            down in the Florida Keys, or
            something.  But there really aren't
            any fish left to catch, so... what
            the hell.  Might as well keep doing
            what I'm good at.

                                                           52.



Carl looks to the trooper at the far end of the car and
raises a finger as signal.  The trooper touches his earpiece
and speaks.

                         JACOBS
            What exactly are you good at?
            Helping greedy, corrupt lying
            assholes that don't give a crap
            about you bring it all to an end?

Carl pauses, then seems to remember something.

                         CARL
            Oh, right, that's what she meant.

                         JACOBS
            What?

                         CARL
            You think the whole thing is going
            up.

                         JACOBS
            What?

                         CARL
            You think the whole thing will go
            up in flames... poof.

                         JACOBS
                   (pause)
            That's about it.

                         CARL
            Yeah, how?

Jacobs thinks this over, then responds -- like he's talking
to a child.

                         JACOBS
            See it's like this, Carl: while you
            and I sit here having this lovely
            conversation, some really important
            good stuff is being taken away from
            the sky and replaced by some very
            different stuff.  The different
            stuff is not good stuff, it's very
            bad stuff.  And humans keep making
            more humans who make more humans
            who make more humans who make more
            humans who make more and more of
            the stuff that isn't supposed to be
            in the sky -- the bad stuff.
                         (MORE)

                                                           53.



                         JACOBS (CONT'D)
            And because we're getting a lot
            more bad stuff and a lot less good
            stuff, certain things are starting
            to get really-really hot and that
            makes a lot of other things get
            really-really hot and way down
            underground something very nasty is
            going on which makes some things
            get so hot... well... things just
            can't get any hotter and... boom.

Carl gives Jacobs a long look, shrugs, smiles.

                         CARL
            Doesn't sound very scientific, Doc.

Jacobs gives Carl a big, strange grin.

                         JACOBS
            Well, Carl, it doesn't sound very
            scientific because you don't seem
            like a very scientific type of guy.

It takes a few seconds, but Carl realizes he's been insulted.

                         CARL
            Man, you got balls.  I could have
            one of these troopers put a bullet
            in your eyeball and about all I'd
            get is a stern reprimand over a cup
            of coffee.  And here you are
            sitting here giving me shit.  What
            have you got, a death wish?

                         JACOBS
            Not really.  But Carl, you kind of
            bug me.

Carl gives Jacobs a long look, smiles big.

                         CARL
            So, how much time we got, Doc?

                         JACOBS
            What?

                         CARL
            When's the big burn?

                         JACOBS
            Tomorrow, the next day, a year.
            Pick one.

The train is pulling into another station, this time slowing.

                                                           54.



                         CARL
            Well, I'd love to hear more.  But
            this is my stop.

                         JACOBS
            Sorry to see you go.

                         CARL
                   (stands)
            Thanks, Doc.  I know you mean it.

Carl waits as the train slows to a stop.  He replaces the
fedora to his head, straightens the lapels of his jacket,
takes a quick look around the ratty subway car.

                         CARL
            Jesus, I hate these goddamn things.
            Total pieces of crap.  The city
            hasn't spent a dime on them in... I
            don't know, 20 years.

                         JACOBS
                   (sarcastic)
            Yes.  Pollution-free mass transit.
            What a joke.

                         CARL
                   (smiles)
            You know it.

The car stops, the troopers move to take position at the exit.

                         CARL
            One last thing, Doc...

                         JACOBS
            Yes?

                         CARL
            You try for more airtime with the
            committee, or suck another cabinet
            officer in for one of your little
            demos, or try to broadcast again,
            orders or not, I will personally
            blow your big fucking brains out.
                   (beat)
            Got it?

                         JACOBS
                   (calm)
            Sure.  Thanks, Carl.  Have a nice
            day.

For the first time, a flash of anger crosses over Carl's
face.  Again the smile returns.  He shakes his head and
moves off behind his troopers.

                                                           55.



The doors open.  The crowd on the other side sees the armed
men, immediately parts.  The three mean head out.

As if nothing very unusual had happened, the crowd piles
into the car.  No person gives a second look to the fully
armored troopers that just left the train.

Jacobs settles in the ratty subway seat and closes his eyes.

EXT.  SUBWAY STATION EXIT - URBAN STREET - NIGHT

Under a NetCom display, on the right side of the street,
Jacobs trudges up the subway stairs.  This area is more
residential, less degraded and, at this late hour, not
crowded.  About half the streetlights work; some flicker,
strobing the area, casting odd shadows sporadically about
the very dark scene.

Of the people on the half-full sidewalk, most seem on their
way home. A few linger in the shadowy recesses of buildings.

Jacobs pauses at the top of the stairs, looks around; as if
expecting someone to be waiting for him, then heads up the
street.  The further he gets from the station, the fewer
people there are on the sidewalk.

From somewhere, perhaps from the shadow of a building, a
group of four fall-in several steps behind Jacobs.  They all
wear loose light jackets, caps, baggy trousers, their heads
angled down as they walk.  In the darkness their clothes
obscure their features.  They could be young, could be
female, could be male.

One of the four steps ahead and moves closer to Jacobs.
Jacobs senses this, but shows no concern.  Rather, he seems
a bit irritated.  The person walks a few feet away and a
little behind Jacobs.  Neither acknowledges the other.  They
could be just two strangers walking in the same direction.
From across the street, because of the darkness, it would be
difficult to see that they were speaking.

                         JACOBS
            Hello, Ronny.

                         RONNY
            Good morning, Adam.  How are things
            going?

                         JACOBS
                   (sarcastic)
            Oh, good, really good.  Terrific.

                         RONNY
            True?

                                                           56.



                         JACOBS
            Yes.  Tonight I had a delightful
            conversation with a gentleman on
            the subway.  Very well-spoken,
            terrific story-teller, well-armed,
            too.

                         RONNY
            Yes, I heard about that.

                         JACOBS
            What?

                         RONNY
            Well, we know about the gentleman
            and his two associates commandeering
            the train.

                         JACOBS
            Really?  How is that?

                         RONNY
            Just behind you, on the left.

Jacobs glances back.  One of the three raises his head,
lifts his cap and smiles.  It is Black Guy who was sitting
next to Jacobs on the subway car.  Jacobs shows surprise,
then turns forward.

                         JACOBS
            Is GP now in the spying business,
            Ronny?  Do I have to worry about
            your people looking over my
            shoulder, too?

                         RONNY
                   (beat)
            You're too valuable, Adam.  We're
            keeping an eye on you for your own
            good.  Bader and Eddie have to
            sleep sometime.  Besides, they,
            too, are becoming a bit too high
            profile.
                   (beat)
            May I ask what your new friend had
            to say?

                         JACOBS
            In short: shutup or die.

                         RONNY
            Very nice.

                         JACOBS
            I thought so.

                                                           57.



                         RONNY
            So, what do you plan to do?

                         JACOBS
                   (long pause)
            Haven't decided.  What do you think
            I should do?

                         RONNY
            Well, I know it's a heavy
            responsibility for you to bear...

                         JACOBS
            Me, yeah, me.

                         RONNY
            Excuse me?

                         JACOBS
            Why me, Ronny?  Why is it that I am
            the chosen one?

                         RONNY
                   (pause)
            Come on, Adam.  You know the answer
            to that.
                   (glances at Jacobs)
            You need some sleep.

                         JACOBS
            Right, yeah.

                         RONNY
            Adam, as far as the Powers That Be
            are concerned, we're now eco-
            terrorists.  Most of us are under
            surveillance, others are on The
            Possible List, and a few of the
            more... formerly active... they're
            gone.

                         JACOBS
            Uh-huh.

                         RONNY
            Someone has to be above-board,
            visible, still connected, able to
            get an audience, no links to GP.
            Your military service helps.  Most
            of our primary people are now
            underground.

                         JACOBS
            Yes, well.  At least they're alive.
            I believe that if I say another
            word, you will lose another pawn.

                                                           58.



                         RONNY
            You are not a pawn, Adam.  You know
            better.

                         JACOBS
            Okay, knight, bishop, rook...
            regardless, pretty soon I may be
            underground, too.  Just in a very
            different sense.
                   (beat)
            Carl - my subway acquaintance - he
            had a terrific sense of humor, but,
            for some reason - don't know, it
            may have been the big guns - I took
            him seriously.

At the name Carl, Ronny looks up, then quickly drops his gaze.

                         RONNY
            Carl?  Is that what he called himself?

                         JACOBS
            Yes.  Why, have you had the pleasure?

                         RONNY
            Not personally, but I know a little
            about him... if it is the same
            person.  I'll find out.

                         JACOBS
            Right, okay.  Give him my regards.
                   (pause)
            Meanwhile, my place is just around
            the corner.  I'd rather that
            whoever, or whatever, they have
            watching me doesn't see me in the
            company of... eco-terrorists, no
            offense.

                         RONNY
                   (smiles)
            None taken.
                   (pause)
            Get some sleep.

                         JACOBS
                   (rolls eyes)
            Right, thanks.

Ronny slows, falls back a few steps to join the other three.
They make a left, cross the street and fade into the shadows.

Jacobs continues ahead, makes a right around the corner and
disappears.  For a while there is no person; no movement;
just a dark empty street, lights flickering.

                                                           59.



A scraggly mid-sized mutt walks around the corner, sniffing
at the ground.  Suddenly the dog jerks its head up and
freezes.  Eyes wide, but not afraid, it looks in the
direction from which Jacobs had walked.  For a long moment
the street dog is a statue.

The person upon whom the dog has fixated nears the corner.
From behind, face unseen, in functional form-fitting black
clothing, with a stride exhibiting control and strength, it
is a tall, physically fit... woman.

As she passes the staring mongrel, she slows and runs her
palm gently across his mangy head and around his face.  The
dog's eyes relax with the caress.

The Woman rounds the corner and disappears.

INT.  JACOBS' BEDROOM - NIGHT / EARLY MORNING

The flickering streetlights outside filter through the bars
of reinforced windows and heavy shutter-like blinds.  From
the building opposite, a NetCom display casts a violet hue
throughout the darkened room.

On his bed, Jacobs, now with a four-day growth of beard, may
be asleep.  Then he tosses... turns... and it is obvious
that he is not sleeping.  His baggy red eyes open.

                         JACOBS
            Lights.

The bedroom lights go bright and Jacobs reaches for his eyes.

                         JACOBS
            Low!  Lights low!

The lighting emanating from the walls dims.  Other than the
bed, the chair and a metallic chest-of-drawers, the bedroom
is empty.  Jacobs sits up, drags his naked body from the bed
and reaches for a robe which lays across the chair.

Jacobs walks to the drawers on top of which is the polymer-
like tablet he carried earlier.  He ties the robe, reaches
for the tablet and heads to the next room.

Just as he leaves the bedroom and enters the living area,
the bedroom lights go dark as the lights of the living room
go on.

INT.   JACOBS' LIVING ROOM - SAME TIME

The living room, too, is sparsely furnished; a couch, a
chair, a couple of low tables.  A small unused kitchen area
adjoins.  An archway at the far side of the mid-sized room
leads to a bath.

                                                           60.



The front door is set into a reinforced frame and is further
secured by an illuminated, yellow-green hi-density polymer
bar.  The bar extends from a built-up area of the wall to
fit securely into a heavy bracket on the door.  A palm-sized
panel glows softly to the right of the door frame.

The totally smooth walls and ceilings emit light.  There are
no lighting fixtures.  In total, the living quarters seem
sterile; functional, but unadorned.

There is no art, but on the wall facing the couch is a thin
clear panel about four feet wide by six feet in length.
Adjacent is a glass shelf with several computer human
interface devices, including a gray metallic glove.

A square darkened area on the shelf is the same size and
color of the polymer tablet which Jacobs holds.  There are
three small and simple brackets at the side and rear of the
square.  It is to these that the tablet fits when Jacobs
places it.

The brackets illuminate with a soft green, there is a hum
and the clear display activates with swirling, pixelating
colors.  It briefly shows the words "LINUX COLLECTIVE 12"
then goes black.  Two narrow bands of light appear at each
side of the display, move to the center and join as one
pulsating band of light.

                         JACOBS
            Activate AI Cerene.

To the upper left in block letters the panel briefly
displays "ACTIVATING CERENE," then goes sky blue.  To the
left side colors swirl, pixelate, come together, take form
and there is CERENE, a virtual representation of an
artificial intelligence.

She is not beautiful, but certainly attractive.  Her
clothing is elegant and simple.  Most unusual are her blue
eyes, which sparkle in an unusual way.  When she speaks, her
very feminine voice is deep, pleasant and soothing.

                         CERENE
            Good morning, Adam.

                         JACOBS
            Good morning, Cerene.

                         CERENE
            We are home.

                         JACOBS
            Yes.  We're home, now.

Jacobs moves from the display to the couch.  Cerene's
luminescent eyes follow his movements.  It is clear that
Cerene can see.

                                                           61.



                         CERENE
            Adam?

                         JACOBS
            Yes, Cerene.

                         CERENE
            It is very early in the morning.
            Shouldn't you be sleeping?

Jacobs gives a shake of his head.

                         JACOBS
            Nice idea, but I'll work a bit.

                         CERENE
            Adam?

                         JACOBS
            Yeeeeees, Cerene?

                         CERENE
            You look very tired.  Shouldn't you
            sleep?

                         JACOBS
                   (rolls eyes)
            Okay, okay, that's enough.  You are
            my most favorite of operating
            systems Cerene, but you are not my
            mother.

                         CERENE
                   (pause)
            Adam, you told me to remind you to
            sleep when I see that you are tired.
            Would you like me to alter that
            programming?

Jacobs, pauses, thinks.

                         JACOBS
            No.  Thank you, Cerene.

                         CERENE
            Understood.
                   (beat)
            What would you like to do, Adam?

                         JACOBS
            Tectonic Simulation Program 3,
            please.

On the display to the right of Cerene, the Earth's tectonic
plates appear in an exploded, flat-map-style simulation.

                                                           62.



                         JACOBS
            Show hot spots, please.

At numerous points around the map, pulsating glowing yellow-
orange area