PASSENGERS By

Jon Spaihts

10/08/08

2601 2N D STR EE T SA N TA MON IC A CA 90405

FADE IN:

EXT. INTERSTELLAR SPACE

A million suns shine in the dark.

A STARSHIP cuts through the night: a gleaming white cruiser. Galleries of windows. Flying decks and observation domes.

On the hull: EXCELSIOR - A Homestead Company Starship.

The ship flashes through a nebula. Space-dust sparkles as it whips over the hull, betraying the ship’s dizzying speed.

The nebula boils in the ship’s wake. The Excelsior rockets on, spotless and beautiful as a daydream.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - GRAND CONCOURSE

A wide plaza. A lofty atrium cuts through seven decks, creating tiers of promenades framing a vast skylight. Outside the skylight, only stars. Deep space.

The promenades are empty. Chairs unoccupied. Beetle-like robots vacuum the carpets and wax the floors.

CAFETERIA

Super-modern and gleaming. Hundreds of tables, all empty.

FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK

Lounge furniture and star-filled windows. Completely deserted. A robot on spindly legs washes the glass.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - HIBERNATION BAY

Endless rows of vertical glass tubes. Inside each tube stands a PASSENGER. Eyes closed in sleep. If they’re breathing you can’t tell by looking.

They sleep on their feet, leaning against padded supports. Straps secure them in place; sensors adhere to their skin. They wear shorts and tank tops with Homestead Company logos.

We drift down a row, surveying faces. No children, no elders. Men and women of varied ethnicity in the prime of their lives.

We settle on JIM PRESTON, 38. A display on his pod reads:

JAMES PRESTONRate 2 Mechanical EngineerDenver, ColoradoPassenger class: silver

A deep BOOM.

Echoes roll down the corridors. The starship SHUDDERS. The wires trailing from Jim’s sensors tremble and lie still.

Lights wink on in Jim’s hibernation pod. Machinery hums to life. Instruments beep and chitter.

Medical data fills the pod’s screen. Jim’s temperature rises. His heart begins to beat. He takes a breath.

Jim opens his eyes.

Groggy, blinking, seeing nothing.

The backrest behind him converts into a recliner, lowering him into a seated position. The sensors on his skin drop off and snake back into the pod’s machinery.

A HOLOGRAPHIC DISPLAY appears before Jim’s eyes, filling the space in front of him. The Homestead Company’s logo shines at him. The Homestead Company’s theme music plays.

IN HOLOGRAM - A gorgeous stewardess appears, smiling sensually. She is inhumanly perfect: computer-generated.

VIDEO STEWARDESSGood Morning, James!

JIM(disoriented)

Jim. What the...

VIDEO STEWARDESSIt’s normal to feel confused, Jim. You’ve just spent a hundred and twenty years in suspended animation.

She makes it sound sexy. Jim scowls and rubs his eyes.

ONSCREEN - An animation. Happy people go to sleep in glass tubes in a hospital. The tubes are loaded onto a spaceship.

VIDEO STEWARDESS (CONT’D)You’re a passenger on the Starship Excelsior - a Homestead Company Starship. We’ve nearly completed the 120-year flight from Earth to your new home - the colony world of Homestead II. Congratulations!

ONSCREEN - The Excelsior leaves a skyscraper-covered Earth and soars through space to a lush green Homestead II.

2.

JIMOh. Yeah.

VIDEO STEWARDESSThe Excelsior is on final approach.

(sensually)For the next two months, you’ll enjoy luxury space travel. Food. Fun. New friends.

ONSCREEN - The ship’s lavish amenities: fine dining, sports facilities, shops, all swarming with happy passengers.

VIDEO STEWARDESS (CONT’D)Then you’ll start your new life on Homestead II. Back to basics. A fresh start. Room to grow.

ONSCREEN - Publicity shots of Homestead II. Mountains, forests, beaches. Settlements ringed by farmland.

VIDEO STEWARDESS (CONT’D)Your wake-up capsules and nutrient juice will help you recover from hibernation!

Pills rattle into a dish; a glass of pink juice appears. He takes his pills and gulps his juice with a grimace.

A slot disgorges a Homestead Company bathrobe and slippers.

VIDEO STEWARDESS (CONT’D)Make yourself comfortable in your complimentary robe and slippers.

He puts them on.

VIDEO STEWARDESS (CONT’D)Your shipcard is your key to the starship.

(flirtatiously)Don’t lose it!

The pod produces Jim’s shipcard: a plastic ID card on a lanyard. He hangs it around his neck.

VIDEO STEWARDESS (CONT’D)Now you’re ready to go to your cabin. Make yourself at home! Enjoy the rest of your voyage, Jim!

JIMRight.

3.

Jim steps out of his pod. All the other pods are closed, the people inside asleep.

VIDEO STEWARDESSYour cabin is this way.

The holographic stewardess points down the corridor.

VIDEO STEWARDESS (CONT’D)Take Elevator D to deck seven. Your cabin number is on your shipcard.

JIMThanks.

He shuffles down the corridor in his slippers, rubbing his face. Having trouble keeping his eyes open.

Behind him, his pod closes up. Its screen reads PASSENGER DISCHARGED.

CORRIDOR

A corridor lined with doors. A CLEANING ROBOT vacuums.

Jim emerges from an elevator. Instantly the corridor lights brighten. The cleaning robot rolls past Jim.

CLEANING ROBOTHello, Passenger.

JIM(startled)

Hello, robot.

Jim follows wall markings to his cabin. Lets himself in.

JIM’S CABIN

Cozy but small. A bed, a desk, an armchair. No window.

A SCREEN lights up. The Homestead Company theme music plays. An ANNOUNCER speaks.

ANNOUNCER (V.O.)Welcome to your cabin, Jim! Your home until we make landfall.

Jim doesn’t pay attention. Pokes around, opening drawers.

ANNOUNCER (V.O.) (CONT’D)Over the next two months, you’ll prepare for your new life on Homestead II.

4.

Jim peers into the tiny bathroom. There’s a little video screen, and the presentation’s running there too.

ANNOUNCER (V.O.) (CONT’D)Passengers are organized into Learning Groups for orientation. You’ve been assigned to Learning group...thirty-eight! Don’t forget!

ONSCREEN: “Learning Group 38.”

The DOORBELL rings.

Jim opens the door eagerly - and deflates. No one there.

He looks down. A waist-high CARGO ROBOT peers up at him with goggle eyes. It carries two suitcases and a duffel bag.

CARGO ROBOTPassenger James Preston?

JIMJim. Yeah.

CARGO ROBOTYour luggage, Passenger Jim. Swipe your shipcard to confirm.

Jim swipes his shipcard through a slot on top of the robot. The robot scoots inside and deposits Jim’s bags on the floor.

CARGO ROBOT (CONT’D)Enjoy your luggage!

JIMThanks.

CARGO ROBOTThank you, Passenger Jim!

The robot zips out the door.

Jim looks up and down the corridor. The receding robot is the only sign of life.

CONCOURSE

A mall with tiled floors and ornate storefronts.

Jim walks along in jeans and a T-shirt. Storefront signs flicker to life as he passes.

A dry fountain gushes water at his approach.

5.

CONFERENCE ROOM

Forty chairs around a large table.

Jim walks in. The door slides closed behind him.

A HOLOGRAPHIC INSTRUCTOR appears on a large screen at the head of the table: a handsome woman of middle age.

INSTRUCTORHello, Passengers. Will you all please take a seat.

Jim looks around. He’s the only one there. He sits.

INSTRUCTOR (CONT’D)Earth is a prosperous planet. The cradle of civilization. But for many, it’s also overpopulated. Over-priced. Overrated. Overrun.

A holographic cityscape rises out of the conference table: the endless metropolis of Earth, glittering with traffic.

JIMCan I just...

INSTRUCTORHold your questions until the end, please.

JIMWait. Where are all the...

The holographic image transforms into a stunning green landscape of mountains, beaches, forests.

INSTRUCTORThe Colonies offer an alternative. A better way of life. And there’s no colony more beautiful than Homestead II: the Jewel of the Occupied Worlds.

JIM(shouting)

Where is everybody?

The Instructor pauses, jolted from her oratory. The question seems to confuse her. She recovers with a warm smile.

INSTRUCTORWe’re all on the Starship Excelsior. Five thousand passengers and fifty-eight crew members.

6.

JIMBut I’m the only one awake.

INSTRUCTORNo, all the passengers wake up at the same time.

JIMSo why am I alone?

INSTRUCTORYou’re not alone. We’re all in this together.

Jim stares at the holographic Instructor suspiciously.

JIMHow many people are in this room?

A crackle of static runs over the Instructor.

INSTRUCTOR(dazzling smile)

Sorry. I don’t understand your question.

But Jim is gone. His empty swivel chair spins in his wake.

GRAND CONCOURSE

A vast space: tiled walkways, lush carpets, cunning arrangements of cafe tables and cozy conversation pits.

Jim walks across the Concourse, eyes searching. Stops.

He sees a smooth chrome kiosk. Holographic text hangs in the air above it: INFOMAT - Ask me a question!

JIMHey.

The holographic text bursts into a flock of colorful question marks. An insanely cheerful voice speaks.

INFOMATHello! What’s your question?

JIMI need to talk to a person. A real live person.

INFOMATWhat sort of person? Personal trainer? Travel planner? Therapist?

7.

A stylized cartoon accompanies each option.

JIMSomeone in charge.

INFOMATThe Ship Steward handles passenger affairs. You can find him in his office on the Service Deck.

A holographic map of the starship appears. A dotted line shows the way to the Ship Steward’s Office.

JIMThank you.

INFOMATHappy to help!

CORRIDOR

A businesslike hallway lined with doors. Jim finds a door marked SHIP STEWARD.

SHIP STEWARD’S OFFICE

The lights flash on as Jim enters, revealing...an office in mothballs. Empty chairs, barren desks.

JIMNot good.

GRAND CONCOURSE

Another Infomat. Jim arrives at a jog. Slaps the kiosk.

INFOMATHello! What’s your quest...

JIMWho’s flying the ship?

INFOMATThe bridge crew includes the Captain, the Pilot, the Chief Navigator...

IN HOLOGRAM: An image of each officer appears in turn.

JIMThe Captain. I want to talk to the Captain.

INFOMATThe Captain rarely handles passenger queries directly.

8.

JIMEmergency, okay? Where is he?

INFOMATThe Captain is usually found on the Bridge, on the Command Deck.

A helpful map shows the way.

COMMAND DECK

Jim finds the door to the Bridge. He opens it eagerly - only to find a second door behind it - an armored hatch labeled FIREWALL and SECURE ACCESS AREA.

A porthole of thick glass gives a narrow view of the Bridge. It’s deserted. Instrument lights gleam in the dark.

JIM(pounding on the hatch)

Come on! What the hell?!

GRAND CONCOURSE

Jim runs past restaurants, lounges, shops. All deserted.

JIMHello? Hello!

GRAND CONCOURSE - CELESTIAL PROMENADE

The highest promenade on the ship: windows on all sides. The huge skylight just overhead. It’s almost like being outside.

The atrium plunges seven stories to the Concourse below.

JIM(an echoing shout)

Hello!

A SOUND behind him makes him spin. But it’s just a window-washer: a robot with long spindly limbs, polishing windows. Oblivious.

GRAND CONCOURSE - OBSERVATORY ENTRANCE

Jim disappears into a doorway marked “OBSERVATORY - Your Place In the Universe.”

OBSERVATORY

A seamless hologram offers an idealized representation of deep space. Jim walks in, his footfalls muted. He seems to hang in the void. Overcome with wonder.

9.

JIMHello?

OBSERVATORY(a voice as deep as God’s)

What can I show you?

JIMWe’re supposed to land pretty soon, but it’s like I’m the only one awake. Is that normal?

OBSERVATORYI don’t understand. What can I show you?

JIMShow me Homestead II.

The stars wheel and zoom around Jim, until a blue-green Earthlike planet hovers in front of him.

OBSERVATORYHomestead II is the fourth planet in the Bhakti system.

JIMRight. And where are we?

A golden thread stretches away from Homestead II, across the universe...to another blue green world: Earth. Jim walks along the golden thread until he finds the Starship Excelsior: much closer to Earth than to Homestead II.

OBSERVATORYWe are in transit from Earth to Homestead II. We will arrive in approximately ninety years.

JIMWhat?

OBSERVATORYWe land on Homestead II in ninety years, three weeks, and one day.

JIMNo. How long ago did we leave Earth?

OBSERVATORYApproximately thirty years ago.

Jim stares at the hologram in horrified realization.

10.

JIMI woke up too soon.

OBSERVATORYI don’t understand.

JIMNeither do I.

HIBERNATION BAY

Jim sprints down a row of hibernation pods. Heart pounding. Slides to a stop in front of his empty pod.

Jim fusses with the controls, pressing buttons. But the screen just reads “PASSENGER DISCHARGED.”

Crouching, he pulls at the pod’s canopy. It doesn’t budge.

JIMI’m supposed to be in there!

GRAND CONCOURSE - INFOMAT

Jim stands at another Infomat.

JIMHow do I make a phone call?

INFOMATYour cabin telephone...

JIMNo. How do I send a message to Earth?

INFOMATInterstellar messages are sent by laser array. Speak to the Duty Officer in the Comm Center.

IN HOLOGRAM: The Infomat displays a helpful map.

INFOMAT (CONT’D)Please note that interstellar messaging is an expensive service.

JIMBite me.

INFOMATHappy to help!

11.

GRAND CONCOURSE - COMMUNICATIONS CENTER

Two communications booths for passenger use. Jim sits at one of these. Swipes his shipcard.

COMMUNICATIONS BOOTHPlanet and connection?

JIMEarth. The Homestead Company.

COMMUNICATIONS BOOTHThere are thirty thousand, eight hundred twenty-six phone numbers listed under “Homestead Company.” What number?

JIMI don’t know. I’m emigrating to Homestead II. I have an emergency.

COMMUNICATIONS BOOTHDivision of Colonial Affairs, Homestead II Program. I have a Customer Help Line.

JIMSounds about right.

The booth’s camera zooms in on Jim’s face. A microphone extends toward his mouth. The red RECORDING light comes on.

COMMUNICATIONS BOOTHBegin message.

Jim’s a deer in the headlights. He collects himself.

JIMHi. I’m Jim Preston. I’m a passenger. On the Excelsior...I, uh, I think... something went wrong with my hibernation pod. I woke up too soon. I mean WAY too soon. And I can’t get back to sleep. And there’s nobody else here, nobody’s awake.

(with growing panic)The thing is, there’s ninety years to go. And at this rate I’ll...

(takes a deep breath)I’m sorry. I...I’m trying to fix this. Maybe I missed something. I don’t know. I just...I could use a hand. Thanks.

Jim pushes the “SEND” button. Sits back in his chair.

12.

COMMUNICATIONS BOOTHMessage sent.

JIMOutstanding.

COMMUNICATIONS BOOTHMessage will arrive in nineteen years.

JIMSay what?

COMMUNICATIONS BOOTHEarliest reply in fifty-five years.

JIMNo.

COMMUNICATIONS BOOTHWe are nineteen light years from Earth. By the time your message arrives, we will be thirty-six light-years from Earth. We apologize for the delay.

JIMFifty-five years!

COMMUNICATIONS BOOTHThat will be six thousand twelve dollars.

GRAND CONCOURSE

Jim crosses the Concourse like a sleepwalker in his robe and slippers. He looks shell-shocked.

He comes to the Concourse Bar: the fanciest watering hole on the ship. Black leather stools along a marble bartop.

Behind the bar stands a handsome fellow in a bartender’s uniform - his hair and skin eerily perfect. This is ARTHUR.

Arthur sets a glass on the bar. At the sound, Jim spins. Gasps at the sight of a human face. He approaches the bar.

JIMI thought I was the only one awake!

ARTHURIt’s the middle of the afternoon. What can I get you?

13.

JIMWhiskey, neat.

ARTHURComing up.

Arthur pours. Jim knocks the drink back. Points into the empty glass while his eyes water. Arthur pours another.

Jim sighs in profound relief.

JIMMan. I really thought I was in trouble. So how come there’s nobody else around yet?

He sets his glass down carelessly, spilling whiskey.

ARTHURCan’t say.

In an astonishing movement, Arthur glides the length of the bar as if on roller skates. Scoops up a bar towel and glides back, mopping up Jim’s spill.

Jim watches this wide-eyed. He steps up on the footrail and peers behind the bar. Arthur’s body stops at the waist. He’s mounted on rails: built into the bar.

JIM(deflated)

You’re a robot.

ARTHURAndroid, technically. Arthur’s the name.

He shakes Jim’s hand formally.

JIMI’m Jim.

ARTHURPleased to meet you, Jim.

JIMArthur, how much do you know about the ship?

ARTHURI don’t know. I know some things.

JIMWhat do I do if my hibernation pod malfunctions?

14.

ARTHURImpossible. Hibernation pods are fail-safe.

JIMYeah, well, I woke up early.

ARTHURCan’t happen.

JIM(a challenge)

How long until we get to Homestead II?

ARTHURNinety years or so.

JIMAnd when are all of us passengers supposed to wake up?

ARTHURNot until the last two months.

JIMSo how can I be sitting here with ninety years to go?

Arthur’s eyes take on a faraway look. His head twitches.

ARTHURIt’s not possible for you to be here.

He smiles as if he’s solved the problem.

JIMBut I am.

ARTHURSorry, Jim. My specialty is cocktails and conversation. Take your trick questions to one of those Infomats. They think they know everything.

JIMArthur, I’m screwed. I am completely, ridiculously screwed.

ARTHURCome on, now. Every cloud has a silver lining.

15.

JIMSilver lining? I’m going to die of old age on this ship!

ARTHURWe all die. Even androids end up on the scrap heap. It’s not dying that matters, it’s living. This is your life. Are you going to live it or lie down and die?

Jim shakes his head in surrender.

JIMWhat do I owe you?

ARTHURJim, the booze is on the house.

FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT

Jim stands in a moody lounge with panoramic windows onto the cold, magnificent vista of outer space.

The stars shine in multitudes unseen on Earth. The Milky Way pours through it all like a river of light. Dead ahead of the Excelsior, the stars are blue-shifted by the ship’s incredible speed. It’s beautiful and fearfully vast.

INT. JIM’S CABIN - MORNING

Jim wakes up and rolls out of bed. Shuffles into the shower.

CAFETERIA

Machines offer food and drink in dizzying variety. Each machine has a card slot and a screen displaying its menu.

Jim enters, dressed in his own clothes - jeans, a T-shirt.

He swipes his shipcard at a coffee machine. It offers sixteen kinds of coffee, from a simple cup of joe to the “Mocha Cappuccino Extreme.” Jim picks the best of the lot.

COFFEE MACHINESorry. The Mocha Cappuccino Extreme is reserved for gold-class passengers. Please select another item.

Jim frowns and punches the button again.

16.

COFFEE MACHINE (CONT’D)Sorry. The Mocha Cappuccino Extreme is reserved for gold-class passengers. Please select...

JIMI want the Extreme. Bill my room.

COFFEE MACHINEFood can be purchased in the ship’s specialty restaurants. But food in the Cafeteria is free.

Jim presses the next button over.

COFFEE MACHINE (CONT’D)Sorry. The French Roast Deluxe is reserved for gold-class...

Jim presses one button after another.

COFFEE MACHINE (CONT’D)Sorry...sorr...so...Large coffee.

The machine dispenses a large coffee.

JIMAre you serious?

COFFEE MACHINEPlease enjoy.

SHIP STEWARD’S OFFICE

Jim prowls the office, opening drawers and cabinets.

He finds a locker marked EMERGENCY GEAR and opens it eagerly. It holds oxygen tanks; fire extinguishers, an axe, an epoxy foamer for atmosphere leaks.

He opens another door marked EMERGENCY MANUALS - and smiles: shelf after shelf of waterproof, fireproof technical manuals.

Jim pulls a manual labeled HIBERNATION SYSTEMS.

PASSENGER CARGO STOWAGE - DAY

A cavernous cargo hold. Jim drives a forklift down the aisle, scanning container numbers.

He finds a container labeled “PASSENGER #1498, JAMES PRESTON.” The forklift pulls it from the rack.

17.

THE CARGO CONTAINER

Opens to reveal Jim’s belongings. Cartons with labels like “winter clothes” and “kitchen stuff.”

Amidst the cartons, a heavy-duty toolbox. Jim hauls it out.

HIBERNATION BAY

Jim sits in front of his empty hibernation pod. His toolbox beside him. The Hibernation Systems manual lies open.

Jim tinkers with the electronics inside his pod.

The pod hums to life. Its data screen flickers with information. Mysterious WHIRS and THUNKS.

The canopy opens.

Elated, Jim bounces to his feet. Strips off his shirt and scrambles in. The canopy closes over him. He assumes the position, his back against the backrest, waiting for the pod to put him to sleep.

Nothing happens. He pokes at the ports where the sensors and intravenous lines used to protrude. Shakes the machine.

He gives up. It’s not working.

But now he’s trapped inside the pod.

He pushes at the canopy, but it’s locked shut. He pounds on the glass with no effect.

Finally he loses it, shouting and stamping, hammering and raging. His voice is totally inaudible outside the pod - the impacts of his fist reduced to quiet thuds.

Despairing, he sinks to the floor of the pod, staring out at his tools - inches away but utterly out of reach. He’s going to die in this glass prison.

Then he notices the emergency release handle down by the floor. He pulls it, and the canopy pops open.

The pod’s display screen blinks back to its original message. PASSENGER DISCHARGED.

CREW HIBERNATION FACILITY DOOR

Jim looks through the porthole at the sleeping crew.

Jim swipes his shipcard through the door switch. ACCESS DENIED. He pokes at the keypad. ACCESS DENIED.

18.

Jim opens his toolbox, selects a tool and starts to remove the keypad’s cover plate.

FADE TO BLACK.

SUPER: THREE WEEKS LATER

INT. CREW HIBERNATION FACILITY DOOR - MORNING

Jim works on the door with an industrial LASER CUTTER, wearing dark welding goggles. Sparks fly. He’s drenched in sweat. Mussed and unshaven.

He lifts the goggles and inspects the door. The laser cutter has barely marked the surface.

The door’s a mess. Its switch hangs on wires. There are pry marks around the latch. Gouges around the window. Failed drill holes. Dents left by an axe.

But the door stands firm.

Jim lets the laser cutter fall. It joins a scrapyard of tools on the floor: sledgehammer, jackhammer, drill, crowbar, axe.

CONCOURSE BAR - DAY

Arthur polishes glasses behind the bar. Jim sits, sweaty and grimy, a whiskey in front of him.

His speech is soft around the edges. He’s had a few.

JIMI thought I’d figure something out. I thought it would just come to me.

ARTHURGood things come to those who wait, they say.

JIMBut I’ve tried everything.

ARTHURSometimes you can’t catch a break.

Jim gives Arthur a thoughtful look.

JIMI’m your only customer, but you’re always polishing a glass.

19.

ARTHURTrick of the trade. Makes people nervous when a bartender just stands there.

JIMOkay. Lay some bartender wisdom on me. I’m lost in space here.

Arthur polishes the bar while he thinks that one over.

ARTHURYou’re not where you want to be. You feel like you’re supposed to be somewhere else. Right?

JIMYou said it.

ARTHURWell, here’s the thing. Say you could snap your fingers and be wherever you wanted to be. Back on Earth, or on Homestead II.

JIMOkay.

ARTHURI’ll bet even if you got your wish, you’d still feel this way. Not in the right place. Supposed to be somewhere else. That’s not a crisis, it’s the human condition.

Jim takes a moment to consider that.

JIMThat’s not me.

ARTHURWell, maybe not. The point is, you can’t get so wrapped up in where you’d rather be that you forget to make the most of where you are.

JIMWhat are you telling me?

ARTHURIt’s a big ship. You’re always running around banging on things and yelling at the computers. Take a break. Live a little.

20.

Jim spins on his barstool, surveying the Grand Concourse.

JIMLive a little.

When he comes back around he gives a shove. He spins faster.

ARTHURThat’s the spirit.

Jim goes for one more shove. Misses. Falls off his stool.

GRAND CONCOURSE - INFOMAT

Jim scans a map of the ship. Second-class cabins. First-class cabins. And the good stuff: palatial suites named for European cities.

His finger stops on one of the biggest. The Berlin Suite.

BERLIN SUITE

High ceilings, posh furniture, panoramic windows.

The door jumps in its frame with a THUNK. Slides open. Jim enters, a crowbar in hand.

A cargo robot follows him in, carrying his toolbox and suitcases. It deposits them on the floor.

CARGO ROBOTThe Berlin Suite! Enjoy your luggage!

BERLIN SUITE - BEDROOM

Jim unpacks. Stowing clothes, laying out his things.

On the bedside table, an electronic book: “Out of This World: A Colonists’s Guide to Starting Over.”

He pulls a pair of sneakers out of his luggage.

DECK TWO - GYMNASIUM - BASKETBALL COURT

Jim shoots baskets in sneakers and gym clothes. He makes a shot from the foul line.

The ball bounces right back to him. He shoots again and misses. Again the ball returns: sits bouncing at his feet.

Smart ball.

He picks it up, backs up to the three-point line and hits his shot. He’s not bad.

21.

BERLIN SUITE - BATH

Jim cleans up in the opulent bathtub. A robot arm with a water jet washes his back.

MARCELLO’S - DAY

The Italian restaurant. Red checked tablecloths, vintage posters, candles in wicker-wrapped wine bottles.

Jim sits at a table in a button-down shirt and tie. Peruses a menu. A robotic waiter rolls up in a beret and apron.

WAITER(Italian accent)

What do you desire, sir?

JIMI’ll have the rigatoni alla diabla, with the sauteed spinach and a glass of the...

(consults his menu)...Montepulciano.

WAITERVa bene!

The waiter rolls off. Jim looks around at the empty tables.

GRAND CONCOURSE - ARCADE - EVENING

A state-of-the-art game room. Jim inspects the flagship game: “Z Factor!” A huge holographic display, a futuristic cockpit.

Jim swipes his shipcard. The game speaks like an angry giant.

Z FACTORJim Preston! Welcome to the cutting edge of gaming! The greatest challenge you will ever know!

JIMAll right then.

He clambers into the cockpit.

Z FACTORAre you ready to play Z Factor?

JIMSure.

Z FACTOR(snarling)

Are you ready to play Z Factor?!

22.

JIM(heartily)

Yes!

Z FACTOR(a roar)

Begin!

Colored lights play over Jim’s face as the display lights up with images we do not see.

Jim works the complex controls: pressing foot pedals, slashing in the air with handsets.

Explosions roar. Red light bathes the room.

Z FACTOR (CONT’D)You lose! Z Factor reigns supreme!

The game howls with demonic laughter.

MOVIE THEATER - EVENING

A classic theater. Seats for a thousand.

Jim enters. Looks around.

MOVIE THEATER - CONTROL BOOTH

Jim scrolls through a dizzying list of available films on a terminal. Makes a selection.

MOVIE THEATER

The screen shines as the movie starts. Jim arrives at a jog. Settles into a seat. Smiles as the light plays over his face.

FADE TO BLACK.

SUPER: THREE MONTHS LATER

GRAND CONCOURSE - ARCADE - DAY

Flashes of light blaze across Jim’s face. He’s playing “Z Factor!” He’s on fire. A fusillade of sound shakes the room.

Jim moves like a martial artist, dripping sweat. The controls are like part of his body, the gameplay second nature.

A final thundering cannonade! A symphonic flourish! Golden light shines from the game machine.

Z-FACTORYou are victorious!

23.

JIMYes!

Z-FACTORYou are the Grand Master of Z Factor!

JIM(elated)

I am the Grand Master of Z Factor!

GYMNASIUM - BASKETBALL COURT

Jim shoots a basket from half court. Perfect. Obedient as a dog, the ball bounces back to him, sits bouncing at his feet.

Jim stares at the tapping ball. Gives it a kick. It arcs away. Comes bouncing back.

He scoops up the ball and hurls it. It bounces off two walls. Comes bouncing back. But Jim’s gone. The court is empty. The ball bounces to a halt and sits still.

BELLA CANTINA - AFTERNOON

The ship’s Mexican restaurant. Identical to the Italian restaurant but with gaudy tablecloths, cactus centerpieces, etc. The robot waiters wear sombreros.

Jim sits over the wreckage of his lunch. He downs a margarita and puts the empty glass down beside several others.

JIMAnother margarita!

MEXICAN ROBOT WAITERYou have had many, senor.

JIM(drunkenly)

Margarita otra vez!

MEXICAN ROBOT WAITERSi, senor.

LIBRARY - MORNING

A room full of workstations, each with a reading machine. Jim sits at one in a headset, taking a Russian Language course.

RUSSIAN TEACHER (FILTERED)This is the Gudonov Russian Language Course. Level One. Let’s begin. Repeat after me.

(in Russian)[I am beginning to learn.]

24.

JIM(in Russian)

[I am beginning to learn.]

RUSSIAN TEACHER (FILTERED)I am beginning to learn.

JIMI am beginning to learn.

CONCOURSE BAR - EVENING

Jim sits drinking. Three glasses in front of him. Drunk.

JIM(in bad Russian, subtitled)

[I be study the Russian.]

ARTHUR(in perfect Russian, subtitled)

[Good for you, my friend! It’s a beautiful language.]

JIMYou speak Russian!

ARTHUROf course. We have Russian passengers.

JIMWell, I’m trying new things. From now on, every time I sit down, I want a drink I haven’t had before.

ARTHURFair enough.

Arthur mixes a bright green drink, sets it in front of Jim. Jim takes a sip and makes a horrible face.

JIMWhat’s that?

ARTHURSomething new.

FADE TO BLACK.

SUPER: THREE MONTHS LATER

INT. BERLIN SUITE - BEDROOM - MORNING

Jim sleeps in his luxurious bed. The covers knotted around him. He hasn’t shaved in weeks.

25.

His eyes open. He lies staring at the ceiling.

After a long moment he gets up. Shuffles toward the bathroom in his underwear. He’s put on a beer gut.

CAFETERIA - MORNING

Jim walks past empty tables. Dials up a coffee and a “bear claw” - a huge pastry.

Sits eating alone among hundreds of empty tables.

GRAND CONCOURSE - ARCADE ENTRANCE - DAY

Flashes and blasts of noise. The sounds of Z Factor!

Z FACTOR (O.S.)You are victorious!

AT THE Z-FACTOR MACHINE

Jim sits blank-faced in the cockpit.

Z-FACTORNew high score!

Bored, Jim punches his name into the High Scores board. JIM. All the other high scores say JIM.

CONCOURSE BAR - MORNING

Jim walks up to the bar and slides onto a stool.

JIM(in fluent Russian, subtitled)

[I’m ready for today’s new drink]

ARTHUR(in Russian, subtitled)

[I’m afraid I can’t help you.]

Jim thumps his fist on the bar.

JIM(in Russian, subtitled)

[Don’t argue with me, robot. Give me a new drink.]

ARTHURThere are no new drinks.

JIMWhat do you mean?

26.

ARTHURI can make one thousand, four hundred and thirty-six cocktails. You’ve had them all.

The news hits Jim like a death in the family.

JIMThere are no new drinks.

GRAND CONCOURSE - NIGHT

Jim walks past the upscale shops, blind to their displays.

He comes to a PHOTO BOOTH. The promotional pictures on the side catch his attention: people clowning, smiling, kissing.

He pulls back the curtain, sits in the booth. A digital screen shows him the image of his own face. Cheery text prompts him: CHOOSE A BACKDROP!

Jim tabs through options. Paris, Angkor Wat, the Swiss Alps. A crowded beach, an office flat, a New Year’s Eve party. He chooses the party.

ONSCREEN: a party scene fills the space behind him. People laughing, dancing, drinking and kissing.

A strobe flashes four times.

A photostrip drops into the tray outside the machine: four identical shots of Jim staring into the lens without emotion, as digital revelers carouse behind him.

GRAND CONCOURSE - ELITE PROMENADE - DAY

Jim walks numbly along, ignoring the stellar view. He munches messily on potato chips.

A SWEEPER ROBOT follows him like a dog, collecting crumbs. Appreciating the company, Jim keeps it fed - dropping a crumb every time it begins to wander away.

FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK

Jim enters, still munching. The sweeper robot follows.

Jim stands at the windows. Stares out into the dark. Sighs a terrible sigh. The empty coffee cup falls from his hand.

He leans his forehead against the glass. Tears welling up.

We rotate around him, passing through the thick glass of the panoramic windows with a crystalline hiss.

27.

And then we are outside the window looking in, and there is no sound at all.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - CONTINUOUS

We pull back. The starship’s hull sweeps back in tiers of windows, observation domes and flying decks.

We pull back still farther, until the ship is a slender white dagger plunging through the starry black of space.

INT. FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK

Jim stands at the window, looking out at the stars. Tears standing in his eyes. After a moment he starts to sob. He sits down blindly.

The whole room begins to slide past him.

Confused, Jim looks around. He’s accidentally sat down on the sweeper robot: it carries him across the room.

GRAND CONCOURSE

The robot carries Jim past the Concourse Bar. Jim’s cheeks still wet with tears. Jim and Arthur watch each other pass, speechless.

HIBERNATION BAY

The sweeper robot carries Jim down a long aisle of sleepers.

Men and women of a thousand ethnicities, tucked in their rightful places. Faces serene in slumber. Jim looks at them with naked yearning. They draw him out of his sorrow.

Suddenly his eyes widen. He lurches off the robot. Stands staring as the robot recedes.

Inside a pod, a woman stands sleeping. A breathtaking beauty. Jim peers at her pod’s data screen:

AURORA DUNNWriterNew York, New York

He studies her face in fascination for a long time.

JIMAurora.

FADE TO BLACK.

SUPER: THREE MONTHS LATER

28.

INT. BERLIN SUITE - MORNING

Jim lies asleep, wearing boxer shorts and a full beard. The suite’s a wreck. Laundry and dishes litter the floor.

His eyes open. He looks at the stars outside. Gropes under the pillow and pulls out a remote control. Punches a button.

The window shades come down, hiding the view.

CORRIDOR

Jim emerges from his room in boxer shorts and slippers. He’s dragging a blanket.

A housekeeping robot, its dustpan quivering in anticipation, hovers outside his door. Jim taps the “Do Not Disturb” button on his door panel and walks away.

The housekeeping robot squeals in frustration as the door closes over the mess inside.

CAFETERIA

Jim fills a bowl with cereal. Pours a glass of milk. Tucks a spoon in his waistband.

ELEVATOR

Jim descends, the blanket draped over his shoulders like a serape. He holds his bowl of cereal and glass of milk.

HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA’S POD

Jim sits down carefully in front of Aurora’s pod. Pours milk over his cereal, sets the glass aside and begins to eat.

His eyes never stray from her face.

LIBRARY

A study space lined with glass-walled booths containing multimedia terminals. Jim sits in a booth, watching a television interview.

From outside the booth, we see Aurora onscreen, speaking to a talk-show host. We cannot hear her: but Jim leans forward, watching intently.

CONCOURSE BAR - EVENING

Jim sits perusing an electronic slate. Arthur keeps busy behind the bar.

Jim sets the slate aside with a sigh of satisfaction.

29.

JIMYou know when you hear someone say something you’ve always believed, but never put into words? It’s like a light turning on.

ARTHURI don’t do a lot of reading.

JIMShe’s good. She sees things, you know? She’s not afraid to say it.

ARTHURWho’s that?

JIMAurora.

ARTHURThe sleeping girl.

JIMYeah. The sleeping girl.

Jim drains his cocktail. Rises from his stool and turns to leave. He stops. Turns back.

JIM (CONT’D)You know, I’m not saying the universe is evil. But it’s sure got a nasty sense of humor.

ARTHURHow’s that?

JIMYou get to fly to another planet, but you die on the way. You find the perfect woman right in front you... but she’s completely out of reach.

ARTHURAurora.

JIMArthur, I’ve read her books, everything. I can’t stop thinking about her. Can’t stay away.

ARTHURJim, Aurora’s asleep.

JIMI know.

30.

He shakes his head and turns away.

JIM (CONT’D)I know.

OBSERVATORY - DAY

IN HOLOGRAM: Excelsior’s progress diagram.

The Excelsior hangs between Earth and Homestead II. A legend reads: “TIME TRAVELED: 30 YEARS. TIME REMAINING: 90 YEARS.”

Jim stands watching.

The numbers change with a digital click. TIME TRAVELED: 31 YEARS. TIME REMAINING: 89 YEARS.

HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA’S POD

Jim stands in front of Aurora’s pod, staring inside.

He backs up against the opposite pod. Leans against the glass, hands in his pockets. He stands watching Aurora sleep.

CONCOURSE BAR - MORNING

Jim walks up to Arthur with the HIBERNATION SYSTEMS MANUAL. Drops the book on the bar with a thud and takes a seat.

JIMSay you were trapped on a desert island, and you had the power to wish somebody there with you. You wouldn’t be alone anymore, but you’d be stranding another person on the island. Do you make the wish?

ARTHURI don’t know. I’ve never been on an island.

JIMOkay. Say you figured out how to do something that would make your life a thousand times better. But it’s wrong, and there’s no taking it back. How wrong would it have to be to stop you? I mean, what if it made your life a million times better? How do you do the math?

ARTHURJim. These are not robot questions.

Jim stares at Arthur in frustration.

31.

JIMI know how to wake Aurora up.

ARTHURSounds like a fine idea. You could use some company.

JIMI’d be stranding her on this ship for the rest of her life!

ARTHUROh. Well, you can’t do that.

Jim buries his face in his hands.

JIMWhat am I going to do?

There’s real despair in his voice. Arthur looks concerned.

ARTHURJim. I’m here for you.

JIMArthur, you’re a machine.

HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA’S POD

Jim stands in front of Aurora, the hibernation manual hugged to his chest. He rocks on his toes. Stares through the glass.

JIMNo.

INT. GYMNASIUM

Jim runs on a treadmill, drenched with sweat.

JIMJust run. Run. Run.

LATER

Jim works a heavy bag, his fists pounding away. The bag jumps and sways. His teeth are clenched, his expression intense.

JIM (CONT’D)No. No. Don’t. Even. Think about it!

BERLIN SUITE

Jim emerges from the shower in a towel. Paces around his room. Without thought he scoops up the Hibernation Systems Manual and leafs through it.

32.

JIM(catching himself)

Come on!

He hurls the book across the room.

HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA’S POD

Aurora stands in her hibernation trance. Jim paces through the frame, not even looking at her. A moment later passes back the other way. He stops and stares at Aurora.

INT. BERLIN SUITE - BATH - DAY

Jim stands at the sink with a futuristic shaver in his hand. He talks to himself as he takes off his castaway’s beard.

JIMI’m shaving off my beard.

(to his reflection)It’s wrong, man.

The whiskers pile up in the sink, wash down the drain. His face emerges from its mask.

JIM (CONT’D)Seriously. You can’t do it.

He’s finished. Clean-shaven.

JIM (CONT’D)(astonished at himself)

I’m shaving off my beard.

CORRIDOR

Jim exits his cabin in his coveralls, carrying his toolbox.

He finds a squadron of housekeeping robots waiting outside. He taps the “PLEASE SERVICE” button beside his door.

The robots zoom inside with squeals of joy.

HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA’S POD

Jim stands in front of Aurora: toolbox in one hand, the technical manual in the other. He’s breathing hard.

He sets the toolbox down. Opens the manual. It’s densely annotated in Jim’s handwriting. He opens the pod’s cover panel and goes to work. His hands shake.

He starts to close a final contact. Stops.

Gets to his feet. Stands looking at Aurora.

33.

Quickly he kneels and completes the circuit. Pulls his hands away as if the metal had burned him.

JIMOkay.

Aurora’s pod hums. Medical data flows across its screen. Her vital signs re-start. Her skin flushes with color.

Jim stands inches from the glass, staring inside.

Aurora’s perfect lips part. She takes a shallow breath - and then a deep one. Her chest rises and falls. Her thighs shift as she bends her knees. The sensors on her body drop off and withdraw into the pod.

The rustle of wires rouses Jim from his trance. In mad haste he snatches up his tools and manual and flees the scene.

A moment later Aurora opens her eyes. They’re beautiful.

VIDEO STEWARDESSGood morning, Aurora!

BERLIN SUITE

The luxury cabin now tidy and immaculate. Jim bursts in, wild-eyed. Drops his toolbox. Hides the manual in the closet.

He splashes water on his face. Stares into the mirror.

DECK SEVEN - CORRIDOR

Jim sticks his head out of his cabin, looks up and down the hall. Steps out warily.

GRAND CONCOURSE

On the Concourse’s highest promenade, Jim paces nervously, glancing around. She could be anywhere.

AURORA (O.S.)Hello?

Jim rushes to the railing. Below, on the Grand Concourse, Aurora is turning in circles, looking up at the balconies.

AURORA (CONT’D)Hello!

JIM(a husky whisper)

Hi.(mustering a shout)

Hello!

34.

Aurora spins. Spots him.

AURORAHey! I want to talk to you!

JIMI’ll come down.

Jim runs down six flights of stairs, his heart in his throat.

He reaches the Grand Concourse out of breath. He stops a few paces away, just looking at Aurora, getting his wind back.

AURORAPassenger or crew?

JIMPassenger. Jim Preston.

He sticks out a hand. She shakes it firmly. Electric for Jim. First contact.

AURORA(all business)

Aurora Dunn. Do you know what’s going on? Nobody else in my row woke up.

JIMYeah, I, uh...same for me.

AURORAThe crew’s supposed to wake up a month before we do, but I haven’t seen anybody.

Jim swallows hard.

JIMThe crew’s still sleeping.

Aurora stares at him.

AURORAWhat are you saying? Nobody’s awake?

JIMJust me.

AURORA(incredulous)

Just you.

JIMJust us.

35.

AURORABut somebody’s got to land the ship in a few weeks.

Jim’s finding it hard to deliver the bad news.

JIMI have to show you something.

ELEVATOR A

Jim and Aurora ride upward. Jim can’t keep his eyes off her.

AURORATypical. There’s so much incompetence in these big companies. No accountability! They lost my luggage on the flight to the spaceport. I’m leaving the planet and my bags almost didn’t make it! Nobody apologizes. Nobody even feels bad. Where are we going?

Jim yanks his eyes away from her neck.

JIMThe Observatory.

OBSERVATORY

Aurora’s eyes, wide and staring. Her face a mask of horror.

In front of them in the starry void hangs the ship’s progress indicator - the Excelsior hanging between Earth and Homestead II. Thirty-one years elapsed; eighty-nine years to go.

AURORA(a shocked whisper)

Eighty-nine years to go.

JIMThe other passengers aren’t late waking up. We’re early.

Aurora stares at Jim.

AURORAWe’ve got to get back to sleep.

HIBERNATION BAY

Jim and Aurora walk down a row of hibernation pods.

AURORAWe just need to get back in our pods.

36.

JIMIt’s not that simple. Putting somebody into hibernation takes special equipment. Remember the facility where they put us under?

Jim points at a pod beside them. A middle-aged woman inside.

JIM (CONT’D)This pod’ll keep her in hibernation as long as you want. Or wake her up. But it can’t put her back to sleep.

AURORA(getting it)

You don’t think there’s a way back into hibernation.

JIMNot that I can see.

AURORAThere has to be. There’s always a way. Where’s the crew?

CREW HIBERNATION FACILITY DOOR

Jim and Aurora stand staring at the door: scarred by Jim’s many assaults.

Aurora looks through the porthole at the crew inside. She runs her hands thoughtfully over the door’s dents and gouges.

AURORA(dreading the answer)

How long have you been awake, Jim?

JIMA year and three weeks.

Aurora covers her mouth. Her eyes full of horror.

AURORAOh, no. No.

She turns and walks briskly away. Suddenly breaks into a run. Jim watches her go, astonished.

After a moment he runs after her.

HIBERNATION BAY

Aurora runs down a row of hibernation pods, her eyes searching wildly among the glass tubes. She turns a corner. Hesitates. Runs down another row. She’s fighting tears.

37.

She puts on speed. Her sash unknots itself and her robe billows behind her.

IN ANOTHER ROW

Jim jogs along, worried. He’s lost her. He pauses, listening. In the distance, slippered feet. He runs that way.

He stops: the sash of Aurora’s robe lies on the deck. He picks it up. Runs on.

JIMAurora!

He rounds a corner and sees her. She’s turning in place in the middle of the row. Laughing at her own panic.

AURORAI can’t even find the one I’m supposed to be in.

Jim gives her the sash. She ties her robe around her.

AURORA (CONT’D)Thanks.

Jim looks back at her, miserable with guilt.

JIMI should have found a better way to tell you.

AURORAI’m sorry. I lost it for a second. It just hit me how serious this is. How did you wake up?

JIMI just did. My pod dumped me out, and there I was.

AURORAMe too. We have to get help.

CONCOURSE - COMMUNICATIONS CENTER

Jim and Aurora stand in at a Passenger Communication Station.

Jim swipes his card through the Comm Station’s slot. It brings up his account information.

38.

JIMI’ve sent sixteen messages to Earth. A bunch to the Homestead Company, one to the Space Administration, one to the United Nations. A couple to Homestead II just for the hell of it. My phone bill’s about eighty grand.

AURORAHow soon could we hear something?

JIMWith speed-of-light lag...fifty-six years.

Aurora’s mouth goes dry. She swallows hard.

AURORAWhat about the other occupied worlds?

JIMThey’re even farther away. We’d die of old age before they could answer.

AURORAWhat about other ships?

(off Jim’s stare)Jim?

JIM(feeling very stupid)

I never thought of other ships.

AURORAJim, you’ve had more than a year! There has to be a flight plan or something...

They search the Comm Center and find a map table showing the Excelsior’s position relative to the Occupied Worlds.

Aurora fiddles with the controls. Interstellar flight plans appear: a holographic spiderweb of starship tracks.

AURORA (CONT’D)There!

They inspect the threads of light - an icon on each thread representing a starship. Even Jim is excited now.

AURORA (CONT’D)How can we tell how close they are?

JIMThe computer knows. Give me a ship.

39.

AURORA(peering at the star map)

The Zephyr.

JIMRound-trip message time...ninety-nine years.

AURORAThe Andromeda.

JIMOne hundred thirty-two years.

AURORAThe Maximilian.

JIMEighty-one years.

Jim and Aurora deflate visibly.

AURORAThat’s the closest one.

GRAND CONCOURSE - EVENING

The ship’s lights turn the cool blue of evening as Jim and Aurora walk across the plaza. Aurora looks up.

AURORAWhat’s happening?

JIMNine o’clock. Night time.

AURORAOh.

(she stops walking)I know I should be working the problem right now, but I can barely keep my eyes open.

JIMYou just came out of hibernation. It’ll be a couple days before you’re a hundred percent. You should rest.

AURORA(yawning)

I think I have to.

JIMI’ll walk you to your cabin.

40.

AURORANo, I’m all right.

JIMOkay.

AURORAJim. Don’t look so down. It’s going to be okay. You’ve got me on the team now. Chin up, all right?

Jim nods, speechless.

AURORA (CONT’D)I’m in room 973 if you need me.

Jim watches her walk away.

JIMI’m in the Berlin Suite if you need me.

She stops. Turns to look back at him.

AURORAA year and a half? I can’t imagine. It must have been hard for you.

The sudden kindness is almost more than Jim can bear. His voice grows suddenly hoarse.

JIMIt was.

AURORAGood night, Jim.

GRAND CONCOURSE - CONCOURSE BAR

Jim slides onto a barstool.

JIMWhiskey, neat.

ARTHURSure thing. How’s your day been?

Jim lifts the whiskey and tips it back.

JIMAurora’s awake.

ARTHURCongratulations.

(off Jim’s face)You don’t look happy.

41.

JIMArthur. Can you keep a secret?

ARTHURI’m a bartender.

JIMDon’t tell Aurora I woke her up. She thinks it was an accident. Let me tell her.

AURORA’S CABIN - NIGHT

Aurora lies sleeping.

BERLIN SUITE - BEDROOM - NIGHT

Jim sits on the edge of his bed. Stares out the window.

GRAND CONCOURSE - INFOMAT - MORNING

Aurora talks with a relentlessly cheerful Infomat. She’s wearing her own clothes, and it’s a transformation: she looks hip and urban, beautiful.

AURORA(indignant)

How can there be no way to put someone back into hibernation? What if a pod breaks down?

INFOMATNo hibernation pod has malfunctioned in thousands of interstellar flights.

AURORAWell, I’m awake.

INFOMATHibernation pods are fail-safe.

Jim appears behind Aurora.

JIMMorning. Have you eaten?

AURORAI’m starving. This is the dumbest machine.

INFOMATHappy to help!

42.

CAFETERIA

Jim watches in astonishment as Aurora blithely orders the snacks that the machines deny him. The Mocha Cappuccino Extreme. The French Breakfast Puff. The Gourmet Fruit Salad.

They sit. Aurora eyes Jim’s tray.

AURORAYou’re a man of simple tastes.

JIMI’m a silver class passenger. The French Breakfast Puff is above my pay grade.

AURORAOh, no! All this time? What can I get you?

JIMNo, I’m fine, really...

AURORAStop it. I’ll be right back.

She gets up. In a minute she’s back, setting a tray down in front of Jim: A western omelette...toast...a side of bacon...a cafe latte.

Jim shoves his old breakfast aside. They dig in.

JIMThank you.

AURORAYou think the crew members would know what to do? Could we wake them up if we got in there?

JIM(warily)

I’m no expert. But I think so.

AURORABut we can’t get in there.

JIMNo.

AURORAMaybe there’s another way to go to sleep. What about the infirmary?

43.

JIMI looked around. It’s the usual hospital stuff. Scanners, autodocs.

AURORADid you look for ways of going to sleep?

JIMNot really.

AURORAWell, Jim!

JIMYou think they’ve got suspended animation pills sitting around?

AURORAYou don’t know until you look. What about cargo? Maybe there’s a hibernation machine in the hold.

JIMI read the manifests. It’s mostly farming stuff, machines and trade goods. We’re not going to find a hibernation facility in a box.

AURORAYou don’t know that! We have to think big here. Maybe we can build our own hibernation machine.

JIMNo, we can’t.

AURORAJim, you’re not even trying!

JIMI’ve been awake for over a year. I’ve tried everything I can think of.

AURORA(she gets up angrily)

Well, it looks to me like you missed some possibilities. And I’m not ready to give up.

She strides out. Jim watches her go. Reaches over and takes the Gourmet Fruit Salad off her tray.

44.

INFIRMARY - DAY

Aurora inspects the gleaming medical equipment. Rummages through cabinets full of medicines and instruments.

She opens a steel vault. A deep freeze: icy vapor rolls out. Inside: racks of chrome capsules at subzero temperatures. She leans close: each frosted capsule is labeled with a passenger’s name and the word SPERM or OVA.

This is the GENE BANK, a repository of genetic material from every crew member and passenger aboard the ship.

LIBRARY - DAY

Aurora sits at a library workstation.

WORKSTATIONNo plans are available.

AURORAWhat about research articles? Any kind of technical documents.

WORKSTATIONHibernation technology is proprietary. The following articles deal with the subject on a theoretical level.

GRAND CONCOURSE

Jim comes upon a cleaning robot that appears to have lost its mind. It bumps repeatedly into a wall, blindly.

Jim turns the robot around. It drives in a circle and resumes bumping into the wall.

Jim watches the robot curiously.

CREW HIBERNATION FACILITY DOOR - EVENING

Aurora frowns through the window at the sleeping crew.

A litter of tools still surrounds the battered door. Aurora snatches up a crowbar and bashes the porthole. The bar spins from her stinging hands, but the window’s not even marked.

CONCOURSE - COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - DAY

Aurora sits at a communications booth.

COMMUNICATIONS BOOTHPlanet and connection, please.

45.

AURORAEarth. New York City. Random House, office of the Publisher in Chief.

COMMUNICATIONS BOOTHBegin message.

AURORA(into camera)

This is Aurora Dunn. Passenger on the Starship Excelsior. I’m an author of yours, with a contract for a book on the colony worlds.

(wryly)You gave me a big advance. I know you won’t get this message for a long time...I don’t know what you’re supposed to do about it...

She gropes for words, not sure where she’s going with this.

AURORA (CONT’D)But I’m in trouble...and I had to tell someone.

GRAND CONCOURSE - EVENING

Jim sits on a sofa with his toolbox beside him. The broken robot lies on its back in front of him. He tinkers inside it.

Aurora drops into a chair across from him. He looks up. Takes in her condition: weary and frustrated.

AURORAThere’s no way we’re going to build a hibernation machine.

JIMNo.

AURORAAnd there’s no magic sleeping pills in the infirmary.

JIMNo.

AURORAI did find the gene bank. Five thousand sperm and egg samples on ice. I should be glad they do that. By the time we get to Homestead II, that little capsule in the freezer is going to be all that’s left of me. We really are screwed, aren’t we?

46.

JIMPretty much.

BELLA CANTINA - EVENING

Jim and Aurora sit across a Mexican dinner they’ve already put a dent in. An electric candle burns between them. A robot in a sombrero drops off two mojitos and scoots away.

Aurora finishes her plate and leans back.

AURORASo who are you, Jim?

JIMMe?

AURORAYeah. I’m going to be seeing you around. I should know who I’m talking to.

Jim is flustered by the attention.

JIMI’m from Denver.

AURORAWhat kind of work do you do?

JIMI fix things. Transport, robotics, industrial systems. Little of everything. On the emigration forms I’m a “rate two” mechanical engineer.

AURORAI’m not nearly that useful. I’m a writer.

JIMWhat kind of writer?

AURORALong-form observational pieces. Social commentary, investigative work, some humor...

(she grins)A little of everything.

(off Jim’s stare)Do I have something on my face?

Jim tears his eyes away from her, embarrassed.

JIMSorry.

47.

AURORAOh, right! I’m sorry. I’m forgetting. You just spent a year with no one to talk to but robots. I don’t know how you did it. They’re all such idiots!

JIMNot all of them.

CONCOURSE BAR - NIGHT

Jim leads Aurora up to the bar. It appears deserted. Aurora is all curiosity.

Suddenly Arthur appears, swinging up from behind the bar as if mounted on a hinge. Aurora gives a squeal of surprise.

ARTHUREvening, Jim. Who’s the lovely lady?

JIMArthur, this is Aurora. Aurora, Arthur.

ARTHURAurora. A pleasure.

He takes her hand formally.

AURORAArthur! Lovely to meet you.

She peeks over the bar at Arthur’s mechanical mounting, the rails he rolls on.

ARTHURWhat’ll it be?

AURORADirty martini!

(to Jim)Now this is a robot I can talk to.

JIMAndroid, technically.

(to Arthur)Whiskey and soda.

LATER

Empty glasses show that Jim and Aurora have been doing yeoman’s work at the bar. Both are tipsy and laughing.

48.

AURORA(collecting herself)

Oh...I almost forgot my life is in ruins.

That wipes the smile off Jim’s face.

JIMSorry.

AURORAWhat for?

(she gets up)I’m going to bed. In the morning we’ll think of something brilliant.

JIMAll right.

AURORAGood night, Jim. Good night, Arthur.

She exits.

ARTHURGood night.

(to Jim, sotto voce)She’s wonderful. Excellent choice.

Jim drops his head into his hands.

AURORA’S CABIN - NIGHT

Aurora unpacks. She stows clothing in drawers and closets: everything at right angles and perfectly creased.

She looks up suddenly, astonishment on her face.

AURORAOf course!

EXT. BERLIN SUITE

Aurora pounds on the door.

AURORAJim! Wake up!

The door opens. Jim stands blinking in his bathrobe.

AURORA (CONT’D)We’ll go home.

49.

ELEVATOR

Aurora drags Jim in. He’s still in his robe.

AURORAIt takes too long to get to Homestead II. But we’re closer to Earth. We’ll turn the ship around.

JIMWe can’t.

AURORAIt’s our only chance of getting off this ship in our lifetimes!

COMMAND DECK

Aurora drags Jim out of the elevator. Looks around.

AURORAWhere’s the...navigating place?

JIMThe Bridge. That way. But listen...

She marches off down the corridor. He follows.

AURORAWe can learn how to pilot the ship. We have all the time in the world.

JIMJust one problem.

COMMAND DECK - BRIDGE DOOR

Aurora opens the Bridge door - revealing the armored hatch. Gouges and burns betray Jim’s past efforts to get inside.

JIMEverything important - the controls, the reactor, the engines - it’s all behind firewalls. No way through.

AURORAOh.

JIMSorry.

AURORA(crushed)

That was my last good idea.

50.

FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK - DAY

Aurora sits curled up in an armchair. Around her, a dizzying view of the cosmos. There’s a cup of coffee on a table beside her. In her lap, an electronic slate with a microphone.

AURORANew file. My Voyage.

A clean page opens on the slate. The title in the corner: “My Voyage.” As Aurora speaks, the page fills with words.

AURORA (CONT’D)I boarded the Excelsior with a destination. A goal. To walk on new worlds. But things have taken an unexpected turn.

GRAND CONCOURSE - DAY

Aurora jogs in sneakers and sweats. Cabin doors flash past.

AURORA (V.O.)I’ve been awake on this ship for seven days, awake far too soon...

Dead end. She’s reached the aft end of the ship. She crosses a lobby and runs back the other way.

AURORA (V.O.) (CONT’D)...and I may well spend the rest of my life here...

Running along a promenade, Aurora reaches the forward end of the ship. Dead end again.

AURORA (V.O.) (CONT’D)...in a little steel world a thousand meters long.

GRAND CONCOURSE

Jim sits at a table reading a technical manual. He looks up. Watches Aurora jog around the atrium and vanish.

AURORA (V.O.)Another passenger shares my fate. A mechanic named Jim Preston.

SWIMMING POOL - DAY

The swimming pool is a marvel: one entire wall is a window extending from the ceiling to the bottom of the pool.

51.

Aurora enters in her Homestead Company bathrobe. Drops the robe to reveal a bathing suit. She dives into the pool.

AURORA (V.O.)The other passengers will sleep for another ninety years.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - SWIMMING POOL WINDOW

Aurora swims, a slender shape moving on the water’s surface. We pull out, the ship dwindling, the blue window receding.

AURORA (V.O.)By the time they wake, Jim and I will have lived, grown old, and died.

INT. FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK

Back on Aurora in her armchair, writing.

AURORAVanished, like a dream, in the blink of an eye.

She falters, frightened by her own words.

CAFETERIA - DAY

Jim sits tinkering with the goggle head of the broken robot. The table is strewn with tools and parts. Aurora sits down across from him.

AURORAWhy did you do it?

Jim is thunderstruck. The game is up. He swallows hard.

JIMDo what?

AURORAEmigrate. Leave Earth. I’m interviewing you.

JIMYou’re what?

AURORAYou’re the first hibernation failure in the history of space travel. That makes you a story.

JIMWho are you going to tell?

52.

AURORAPosterity. So why’d you give up your life on Earth?

Jim hesitates. He hadn’t thought about it quite that way.

AURORA (CONT’D)A hundred and twenty years’ hibernation means you never see your family and friends again. You sleep your way to another planet and another century. It’s the ultimate geographical suicide.

JIMI, uh...I never really...

AURORAWere you running away from something?

JIMNo. Things were okay.

AURORASo?

JIMI just wanted...you know. A fresh start. Back to basics.

AURORAThat’s Homestead Company propaganda.

JIMI guess.

AURORAJim!

JIMWhen something breaks on Earth these days, you don’t fix it. You replace it. But in the colonies they still have problems to solve. My kind of problems. A handyman is somebody.

Nothing there for Aurora to scoff at. She looks impressed.

JIM (CONT’D)And there’s room! Open country. Woods and fields. Room to grow.

AURORANow you’re back to slogans.

53.

JIMCan’t slogans be true?

HIBERNATION BAY

Jim and Aurora walk down an aisle of hibernation pods.

AURORAYou know how much the Homestead Company made off its first planet, Homestead I? Over eight quadrillion dollars. That’s eight million billions. Colony planets are the biggest business going. Did you pay full price for your ticket?

JIMNo. I’m in a desirable trade.

AURORASo they fill your head with dreams, discount your ticket, and you fly off to populate their planet and pay Homestead ten percent of everything you do for the rest of your life. You think you’re free? You’re just part of the business plan.

Jim waves at the rows of sleepers.

JIMAll you see here is five thousand suckers?

AURORAI see zeroes on the Homestead Company’s bottom line.

JIMI see five thousand men and women changing their lives. For five thousand different reasons. You don’t know these people.

Jim walks up to a hibernation pod. Glances at the data screen. He covers the screen with his hand.

JIM (CONT’D)This guy. Banker, teacher, or gardener?

Aurora studies the sleeper: a barrel-chested man of 50 with gray temples and a jutting jaw.

54.

AURORABanker.

JIMGardener.

Jim moves down the row, peeks at another screen, covers it.

JIM (CONT’D)Is this Madison, Donna, or Lola?

Aurora peers: a birdlike young woman with long red hair.

AURORAShe’s too silly to be a Donna. I think she’s a Lola.

JIMMadison. Chef, accountant, or midwife?

AURORAShe has to be a midwife. There’s no way you made that one up.

JIM(chuckling, caught)

She’s a midwife. I didn’t know they still had midwives.

They move among the sleepers, quizzing each other.

AURORA(pointing at a man and woman side by side)

Married, or strangers?

JIMMarried.

AURORA(impressed)

Yes.(about an older woman)

Politician, historian, or artist?

JIMI don’t know. Artist?

AURORAIt doesn’t say. But I’ll tell you this: I like her. We’d be friends.

Jim looks at Aurora seriously.

55.

JIMYou think you can see that?

AURORADon’t you?

Jim looks at the woman in the pod. Smiles.

JIMYeah.

FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK - DAY

Jim and Aurora sit together on a sofa - the universe spread out before them. Aurora nestled in a lap blanket. Jim’s feet up on a coffee table.

JIMA round-trip ticket?

AURORAThat’s right. I was going to fly to Homestead II. Live for a year. Then right back to Earth.

JIMI left Earth for a new life. But you end up back where you started.

AURORAI end up in the future. Two hundred and fifty years in the future. On Earth, which is still the center of civilization, overcrowded or not. And I arrive with a story to tell, and a perspective no other writer has.

JIMAnd what’s the story?

AURORAThe selling of the colonial dream.

JIMBig plans.

AURORAYes.

(remembering)I had this huge farewell party. Everybody came. Family, friends... Enemies. Everybody.

(shaking off her reverie)What about you? How’d you say good-bye?

56.

JIMI guess I didn’t. I just left.

AURORAAnd here we are. In the same boat.

(she laughs bleakly)Jim, I can’t think of anything else to try. To save us, I mean. I don’t even want to think about it anymore.

(she stands)What is there to do around here?

MOVIE THEATER - DAY

Jim leads Aurora into the movie theater. The lights come up. The curtain opens. Aurora looks around in wonder.

A bundle of cables snakes down the aisle.

JIMWatch your step. I’ve made a few changes.

They sit. Next to Jim’s seat there’s a cluster of machines. He taps a button that produces a bucket of hot popcorn.

JIM (CONT’D)Popcorn?

Aurora grins and takes some.

AURORAI never do this.

A mobile screen beside Jim lists movies.

JIMWhat are you in the mood for?

AURORAHorror. Something bloody.

(off his laughter)I don’t know. You choose.

Jim taps a button. The curtains slide open. They settle back.

GYMNASIUM - BASKETBALL COURT - DAY

Jim and Aurora play one-on-one. She’s not especially good, but fiercely competitive. They jostle and scramble, laughing.

Aurora snags the ball. For a minute she stands there beaming.

JIMWhat are you so happy about?

57.

AURORAI’m up two points!

She cuts around him toward the basket.

DECK TWO - VIRTUAL MUSEUM - EVENING

White rooms. As Jim and Aurora enter, the blank wall panels display a collection of bright abstract paintings.

Aurora goes to the control podium. Scrolls through the menu, covers her eyes and chooses blind.

The wall panels fill with medieval visions of Hell. She winces. Chooses again. Chaotic collages. She frowns.

Jim steps to her side and makes a selection, surprising her. The walls fill with landscapes - stark plains and oceans, with lonely figures isolated in the vastness.

The images pull Jim and Aurora in: they stand before a dark seascape.

Without thinking she reaches out and tucks her hand in the crook of his elbow.

FADE TO BLACK.

SUPER: ONE MONTH LATER

SWIMMING POOL - MORNING

Aurora swims laps, cutting through the water.

In the balcony above the pool, Jim stands watching her. Aurora, making a turn at the end of a lap, catches a glimpse of him but doesn’t let on.

Underwater she smiles.

GRAND CONCOURSE - DAY

A little duster robot patrols the concourse. Jim’s hands reach into frame and lift the robot off its wheels.

Passing along an upper promenade, Aurora sees Jim walk away with the duster robot under his arm.

JIM’S WORKSHOP - DAY

A functional room that Jim has turned into a workshop. Broken robots of different types lie around in partial states of disassembly.

58.

Jim stands at a workbench, the duster robot in front of him. He tinkers with its complex works.

He sets the robot on the floor. Types a command on his industrial laptop, hits EXECUTE. His kidnapped robot does a figure-eight on the floor. Jim smiles in satisfaction.

FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK - DAY

Aurora sits on a sofa, writing slate in her lap. She’s editing: dragging words around with a fingertip.

A mechanical whir distracts her. She looks down.

Jim’s pet robot looks up at her with binocular eyes. It carries a paper in a clip on its back. Aurora pulls it free.

A handwritten note from Jim. It reads:

Come to dinner with me tonight?

- Jim

Aurora reads the note with a grin.

AURORA(to the robot)

Is he asking me on a date?

JIM’S WORKSHOP

Jim sits at his laptop, watching the screen: a robot’s-eye-view of Aurora. He wiggles a joystick on his laptop, and...

FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK

...the robot nods its goggle head. Aurora laughs.

Beside the note-clip, the robot carries a pen in a makeshift holder. Aurora takes the pen, scribbles on the paper. Tucks it back into the robot’s note clip.

GRAND CONCOURSE - CONCOURSE BAR

Arthur polishes glasses behind the bar.

The robot crosses the Concourse, note clipped to its back. Arthur watches it pass.

JIM’S WORKSHOP

Jim plucks the note from the robot’s back. Aurora’s reply is written in bold letters:

Love to. -A

59.

AURORA’S CABIN - EVENING

Aurora gets ready for dinner. A slim dress, a few pieces of jewelry, her hair up. She looks like a goddess.

The doorbell rings. Jim stands on her doorstep in a dapper jacket. His eyes widen as he takes Aurora in.

JIMWow.

AURORAYou clean up all right yourself. You went shopping.

JIMI went shoplifting.

In the corridor waits a cargo robot to which Jim has attached a loveseat. He helps Aurora aboard. Takes a seat beside her. She’s charmed.

JIM (CONT’D)Rutherford! To the bar!

CARGO ROBOTYes, Passenger Jim!

The robot zooms off to the sound of Aurora’s laughter.

GRAND CONCOURSE - CONCOURSE BAR

Jim and Aurora take seats. Arthur puts on his best manners.

ARTHUREvening. What can I get for you?

AURORAManhattan, please.

JIMSingle malt, rocks.

Arthur pours.

ARTHURYou two look fine this evening.

AURORA(confidentially)

We’re on a date!

ARTHURVery nice.

60.

AURORA(to Jim, teasing)

Took you long enough to ask.

JIMI was giving you space!

AURORASpace is one thing I don’t need more of. Oh! I found a drug that would put us in a coma.

JIMReally?!

AURORABut the catch is, we’d still be aging.

JIMOh.

AURORAYeah. If I have to grow old on this ship, I’d at least like to be awake for it. So that was a failure.

JIMA highly ambitious failure.

AURORAThere’s the title of my memoir. “A Highly Ambitious Failure,” by Aurora Dunn.

Jim laughs. He thinks for a minute.

JIM“Voyage to Nowhere,” by Jim Preston.

AURORA(laughing)

“My Life in a Tin Can.”

JIM“A Spaceship Built For Two.”

THE STARDOME - XANADU

A great glass dome. Outside, a riot of stars. The glittering Milky Way, the blue stars ahead of the ship, the pink stars behind them. Inside, a luxury restaurant.

Jim and Aurora sit at the best table. The blue stars frame Jim’s head; the pink, Aurora’s.

61.

Robot waiters set covered plates in front of them. Lift the silver domes away - revealing exquisite dishes. Aurora takes her first bite and smiles, her eyes wide.

AURORAThis is really good.

JIMIt wasn’t easy getting a reservation.

They grin at each other as we pull out, revealing a hundred empty tables under the shining dome.

NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT

A holographic 12-piece band plays on stage: Jim and Aurora dance. They’re pretty good. Jim spins her out, spins her back: close enough to kiss.

They almost do - but they don’t.

GRAND CONCOURSE - NIGHT

Jim and Aurora ride along on the cargo robot. Her head rests on his shoulder. Suddenly she sits up. They’re passing the photo booth.

AURORARutherford, stop!

The robot stops. She pulls Jim off.

AURORA (CONT’D)Come on, we have to do this!

She pulls Jim to the photo booth. They tumble inside. As the strobe flashes, she kisses him hard. Jim looks at her in happy astonishment.

Outside, the photo strip drops into the tray. In the first frame, they pose. In the second, they laugh. In the third, they kiss. In the last, Aurora smiles at the camera. Jim looks at Aurora.

DECK NINE - CORRIDOR - OUTSIDE AURORA’S CABIN

The robot pulls up to Aurora’s door. Jim helps her down. Aurora opens the door. Turns to him with a radiant smile.

AURORAThank you. I had an amazing time. A great night.

JIMYeah, me too. Well, good night.

62.

He turns to go.

AURORAJim.

He turns back. Aurora drags him into her arms. They kiss passionately. Stagger into the cabin. The door closes.

CAFETERIA - MORNING

Jim and Aurora sit eating breakfast. Aurora eats happily: Jim watches her across the table.

AURORAI’m starving. You have no idea.

(she smiles at him)Last night was just what I needed.

JIMYou are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You kill me.

Aurora stops eating, her spoon halfway to her lips.

They look at each other.

Jim grabs her across the table. She comes out of her chair. They kiss fiercely - Aurora climbs onto the table, sweeping dishes aside.

A passing robot pauses to observe the scene. Passionate moans and crashing crockery.

BERLIN SUITE

Jim and Aurora lie in Jim’s imperial bed, glistening with sweat and breathing hard. She nestles in his arms, her back against his chest. They look out at the stars.

JIMYou okay?

AURORAYes, I’m fine. It’s just...

She waves her hand in the air as if to signify, all of this.

JIMI know.

She snuggles in tighter, and he holds her close.

63.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - BERLIN SUITE WINDOW

Through the window, Jim and Aurora lie together in the luxurious bed.

We pull out, the window dwindling, as the Excelsior soars away from us through a burning nebula of red and gold.

FADE TO BLACK.

SUPER: THREE MONTHS LATER

CORRIDOR - MORNING

A luxury cabin door: the doorplate reads “Vienna Suite.”

VIENNA SUITE - BEDROOM

The ship’s most romantic cabin. One one side of the bedroom, Aurora’s mementos and possessions. On the other side, Jim’s.

They wake together. She kisses him on the cheek with the ease of long habit and heads for the shower. He watches her go.

SWIMMING POOL - MORNING

Swimming, Aurora reaches the end of a lap. A hand reaches down and catches her before she can turn.

Jim kneels at the edge of the pool, in coveralls and work boots, a tool belt slung over his shoulder.

JIMI’m going down to the cargo hold.

Aurora pulls herself up and kisses him.

AURORACareful.

JIMBack by happy hour.

FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK - DAY

Aurora writes on her sofa, surrounded by electronic slates.

AURORAThe Polynesians set out into the Pacific Ocean with no destination. Searching for islands. They sailed into the endless sea on faith.

64.

SUBDECK A - NUMBER EIGHT CARGO HOLD - DAY

Jim walks among the cargo racks. Machines stacked from floor to ceiling: tractors, combines, gravity boats and hovercraft.

AURORA (V.O.)Some never returned. Others found land and prospered. What drove them out onto the sea? Curiosity? Tradition? The wish for something better?

Jim opens cargo containers. He sorts through ingots of rare metals, solar panels, spools of gold and silver wire. Raw materials for a young world.

AURORA (V.O.) (CONT’D)The urge to move is as primal as hunger or thirst. We run, we drive, we sail, we fly.

Jim finds a stash of golf carts and his eyes light up.

GRAND CONCOURSE - CONCOURSE BAR - DAY

Aurora sits at the bar with her slate, sipping a drink.

AURORAIs it movement that we need? Or the possibility of something new?

ARTHURWhat’s that?

AURORAI’m writing, Arthur. Hush.

Aurora’s slate has recorded this exchange: she erases the extra words with her fingertip.

SUBDECK A - NUMBER SEVEN CARGO BAY

Jim drives his cart into a new bay - and stares in wonder.

In oversized hibernation pods: cattle, horses, sheep, oxen. All asleep. Chickens, ducks and geese in individual cells.

AURORA (V.O.)Like seeds, we carry what we need. The wind drives us - whether the trade winds, the solar winds, or the winds of chance.

The next aisle holds plants in stasis: saplings in tubes, seedlings in individual vials.

65.

Jim stops in front of a glass case. Rosy light bathes his face. He smiles. We don’t see why.

AURORA (V.O.) (CONT’D)We take root where we fall. And helplessly we grow.

VIENNA SUITE - BEDROOM - EVENING

Aurora sits with her slate. Eyeing Jim’s side of the room.

Giving in, she begins to explore Jim’s possessions: poking into the drawers of his nightstand and dresser.

She opens his closet. Shifting things, she finds a dog-eared manual on hibernation pods. A bookmark in the pages. She goes to open the book - and the bookmark slides into her hand.

It’s the photo strip Jim took during his isolation: Four identical shots of his face, bearded and hollow-eyed. The melancholy images hit her hard.

She touches the pictures to make them move: but Jim sits immobile as the digital partygoers in the background cheer and laugh. In the fourth image, Jim sighs heavily.

Voices in the hall.

CLEANING ROBOT (O.S.)Hello, Passenger.

JIM (O.S.)Hello, robot.

Hastily Aurora replaces the manual. Closes the closet.

Jim appears in the doorway: tool belt over his shoulder, duffel bag in hand.

AURORAHi.

JIMHey. How was your day?

AURORAI wrote a few pages. I’m not sure what I’m doing anymore. I think I’m writing about us.

JIMMakes sense.

66.

AURORAI’m not sure I want to write about us. I don’t even know how to think about it. I live in a palace. But it’s also a prison. I’m moving at half the speed of light and I can’t go anywhere!

Jim takes that in.

JIMThe cargo hold is full of pioneer gear. There’s a submarine down there, can you believe it? Floatships and heavy lifters and grav barges. That’s what I wanted, a world still being built. But I’ll never see it.

They sit for a moment in glum contemplation.

AURORAFind anything that could help us?

JIMYes. I found these.

Jim unzips his duffel bag and takes out a bouquet of long-stemmed roses. Aurora gasps. Reaches out to touch them.

AURORAAre they real?

JIMI cut them myself.

She takes them.

AURORAThank you.

She looks into his eyes.

AURORA (CONT’D)For very unlucky people, we got pretty lucky.

FADE TO BLACK.

SUPER: THREE MONTHS LATER

INT. ELITE DECK - CORRIDOR - DAY

A deep RUMBLE. Jim and Aurora sprint down the hall, cabin doors flashing by. Jim leading the way.

67.

JIMIt’s coming! Run!

CELESTIAL PROMENADE

Jim and Aurora run up the stairs onto the highest promenade on the ship: glass all around, skylight above.

The RUMBLE is louder. A bloody light fills the sky.

A STAR looms ahead of the ship: a RED GIANT. The Excelsior rockets toward the star.

The passage takes less than a minute. The Red Giant swells in the windows. The ship shudders. The engines howl. Aurora falls into Jim’s arms. The ship bathed in red light.

The star fills the skylight, fills the sky itself. A fiery surface turbulent with sunspots and mysterious currents. The engines scream.

And then they’re past. The star recedes, dwindling as quickly as it grew. The engines quiet. The ship’s calm restored.

AURORA(breathlessly)

That was incredible.

JIMHappy birthday.

She throws her arms around him.

STARDOME - XANADU - EVENING

Jim and Aurora dine. They laugh and flirt with easy intimacy.

Their plates emptied, they sit back, sipping wine. Jim lifts the table’s candle and waves it in the air. A robot rolls up with a birthday cake, candles alight.

JIM(singing)

Happy birthday to you...

The robot waiters unexpectedly join in, a tinny chorus. Jim tries not to laugh as he keeps singing. Aurora just beams.

JIM & ROBOTSHappy birthday to you...Happy birthday, dear Aurora...Happy Birthday to you.

Aurora sits bathed in candlelight, and for this moment she is truly and fundamentally happy. She blows the candles out.

68.

GRAND CONCOURSE - CONCOURSE BAR - NIGHT

Jim and Aurora sit at the bar, tipsy. Arthur pours.

ARTHURBirthday drink for the birthday girl.

AURORAAren’t you going to check my I.D.? I might not be old enough to drink.

ARTHURI’d never ask your age in front of a gentleman.

AURORAJim’s not a gentleman. Anyway there’s no secrets between me and Jim.

ARTHUR(looking at Jim)

Is that so?

JIMYou heard the lady. Be right back.

He walks away.

AURORAYou know what I like about you, Arthur? You have a sense of occasion. I bet ladies fall for you on every trip.

ARTHURI’d say you were pulling my leg, but I haven’t got any.

AURORA(laughing)

Exactly! There you go.

ARTHURI remember your last birthday, a year ago. Jim was really looking forward to meeting you.

Aurora frowns, processing this sentence - her smile fading.

AURORAWhat?

MEN’S WASHROOM

Jim stands at the mirror, touching up his hair.

69.

He pulls a swatch of velvet from his pocket and unwraps a handmade ring, cunningly woven of gold and silver wire. He looks it over. Adjusts a curve of wire with his fingernail.

He carefully returns the ring to his pocket.

CONCOURSE BAR

Aurora scowls at Arthur, trying to get her bearings.

AURORAWhat do you mean, he was looking forward to it? How could he...

ARTHURHe couldn’t stop talking about you! He spent months deciding whether to wake you up.

Aurora eyes widen in shock.

AURORAJim woke me up.

ARTHUROh, yes. Said it was the hardest decision of his life, but I see it worked out just fine.

Aurora stops breathing. She stares at the bartop.

Jim strolls up to the bar. His hand slides into the jacket pocket where the ring lies hidden.

But Aurora’s body language is all wrong. He stops, perplexed.

JIMWhat?

She sits rigid. Jim’s hand slides out of his jacket pocket.

AURORADid you wake me up, Jim?

Jim’s hand slides out of his jacket pocket. He shoots a stricken look at Arthur, who smiles back, oblivious.

Aurora’s eyes bore into him. Finally Jim finds his voice.

JIMYes. I woke you up.

AURORA(in agony)

How could you do it?

70.

JIMI tried not to.

AURORAI’m going to be sick. No. I...I can’t see.

She gets up to leave. He goes after her.

JIMAurora.

AURORAGet away from me!

She slaps at him blindly, almost hysterical. Stumbles away.

CELESTIAL PROMENADE

Aurora paces in front of the windows, breathing hard. Muttering to herself.

AURORA(under her breath)

I can’t get off the ship. There’s no way off the ship.

Jim appears behind her. A reflection in the glass.

JIMAurora.

She stops. Turns on him.

AURORAYou bastard. How did you decide? Thousands of women in their underwear and you get to pick your favorite.

JIMIt wasn’t like that.

AURORANo? What was it like, Jim? What?

JIMI didn’t go looking. It just... happened. This was real.

(desperately)Aurora. I love you.

She laughs scornfully.

AURORANo you don’t. Show me how you did it.

71.

HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA’S POD

Aurora walks up to her old hibernation pod. Jim trails her.

AURORASo?

Jim stares at her, unbelieving. But she means it. He opens the cover panel, points out the key components.

JIMShort circuit across these two contacts, and then these two. And cut these wires.

AURORAJust like that.

JIMJust like that.

AURORAI thought you saved me. But you didn’t save me, Jim. You did this to me. And now I’m stuck with you. The second-rate mechanic who ruined my life.

JIM(lamely)

Rate two mechanic.

AURORAYou sick bastard.

VIENNA SUITE

Aurora walks in, barely under control. Pacing, furious. Grabs a lamp and hurls it across the room in a paroxysm of rage.

She breaks down. Sinks to her knees, wracked by sobs.

HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA’S POD - DAY

Jim sits at the foot of Aurora’s hibernation pod, staring into the empty tube.

VIENNA SUITE

Jim walks in. All Aurora’s things are gone. She’s moved out.

CAFETERIA - MORNING

Aurora sits finishing her breakfast. Jim enters and approaches her table. Her eyes are hard as stone.

72.

JIMCan I talk to you?

AURORAI don’t want to talk anymore. I don’t want to look at you anymore. If you see me coming, get out of my way. If you see me sitting, find somewhere else to be. There’s plenty of choices. It’s a big boat.

INT. VIENNA SUITE - NIGHT

Jim sleeps alone in the wide bed. Aurora enters. Stands over Jim in the starlight. Shaking.

Suddenly she explodes into violence. Pummels his sleeping body with her fists. Animal sounds burst out of her: grunts, sobs, shouts. Jim curls into a ball under the sheets. Aurora leaps onto the bed. Delivers a few resounding kicks.

And then she’s gone. The door closes behind her. Jim sits up painfully, looking after Aurora in amazement.

FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK - DAY

Aurora sits reading. A whir distracts her. She looks down. Jim’s pet robot sits beside her. A note on its back.

She picks up the note. It’s the photo strip from her first date with Jim: their first kiss captured on film. Clipped to the photo strip is a handwritten note: “This was real.”

Aurora leans down toward the robot’s binocular eyes.

ROBOT’S POV

Aurora looms close. She holds the note up to the robot’s eyes and crumples it up.

AURORAWatching me through a robot is creepy, Jim. Cut it out.

JIM’S WORKSHOP

Jim sits in front of his laptop. He sports an impressive black eye. Aurora’s accusing eyes stare out of the screen. He closes the laptop.

INT. COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - DAY

Jim sits at the security console. Unshaven, his black eye fading. Twenty screens give different views of the ship.

73.

One screen shows an upper promenade of the Grand Concourse. As he watches, Aurora jogs by in sneakers and shorts. She runs out of frame on one screen - and into frame on the next.

Jim is mapping her route.

He looks thoughtfully at the public address microphone.

GRAND CONCOURSE

Aurora circles the atrium on her high promenade.

OVER THE P.A. SYSTEM: Jim clears his throat.

JIM (VIA INTERCOM)Aurora.

Aurora stops in surprise, looking up.

JIM (VIA INTERCOM) (CONT’D)Please...hear me.

Aurora rolls her eyes and resumes running.

COMMUNICATIONS CENTER

Jim watches Aurora move from screen to screen. He grips the microphone tightly: his voice reverberates through the ship.

JIMI’m sorry. I was so alone for so long. It felt like I was disappearing. When I saw you, the first time I saw you... everything changed. You saved my life. You were so beautiful. I kept coming back. Every day. Just staring at you in there.

That’s not sounding right. He regroups and starts again.

JIM (CONT’D)I was trying...trying to know you through the glass. I read all your stuff, trying to hear your voice. When you woke up...

GRAND CONCOURSE

Aurora doesn’t break stride. But she’s listening.

JIM (VIA INTERCOM)I had no idea what would happen. I had no reason to believe you’d see anything in me. When you did, it was like...I wasn’t trapped anymore.

74.

CONCOURSE BAR

Arthur looks up, listening, as voices echo through the ship.

JIM (VIA INTERCOM)My pointless life suddenly had meaning.

GRAND CONCOURSE - UPPER PROMENADE

Aurora runs faster now.

JIM (VIA INTERCOM)Aurora. I don’t want to lose you.

Aurora skids to a stop beside a deck steward’s station. Leans over the counter and grabs a P.A. microphone. She pivots in place: spots a security camera. Stares into the lens.

AURORAGreat. I’m glad destroying my life somehow improved yours. But I don’t care why you woke me up. I don’t care how you feel. You’re a murderer. You don’t want to lose me?! You lost me.

COMMUNICATIONS CENTER

Onscreen: Aurora drops the mic and strides out of frame. Jim slumps over the console in defeat.

FADE TO BLACK.

SUPER: THREE MONTHS LATER

AURORA’S CABIN - MORNING

An alarm clock rings. Aurora rolls out of bed and immediately begins making the bed. Hospital corners.

VIENNA SUITE - DAY

Jim lies asleep in his clothes and shoes. Five-day stubble. Dirty dishes in bed with him. The suite is squalid. A bottle of vodka on the nightstand.

CAFE MAXINE

The French restaurant. Aurora eats breakfast, reading a digital novel. A croissant, fruit, a cappuccino.

75.

VIENNA SUITE

Jim still lies asleep. He wakes. Blinks the sleep from his eyes. Rolls out of bed and straps on his tool belt. Takes a swig from his vodka bottle. Shuffles out of the room.

SWIMMING POOL - DAY

Aurora stands at the end of the pool in her bathing suit, toes hanging over the edge. The water is perfectly calm.

The moment grows long. She sighs, heavily, and dives in.

JIM’S WORKSHOP

Jim toils at his workbench, deep in the guts of a disassembled robot.

He pulls something out with a pair of pincers: a chunky microchip, visibly burned out. He tosses it onto his workbench - into a pile of identical chips.

Behind him: a stack of broken machinery. A dozen robots. Cabin computers. An infomat. Unrecognizable things.

Jim sighs. Looks around.

The cart sits by the door. He looks at the cart. Picks up a blowtorch off his workbench and snaps it on.

CORRIDOR

Jim stands beside his cart. It’s transformed. Jacked up on truck tires, a bank of extra batteries. An off-road dragster.

Jim climbs aboard. Lowers a pair of welding goggles over his eyes. Hits the throttle.

The cart shoots down the straightaway with a wail of rubber.

GRAND CONCOURSE - SHOPPING DISTRICT

Aurora jogs. But her heart’s not in it. She comes to a halt. Not breathing hard: just sick of running.

A rumble behind her. She looks around.

GRAND CONCOURSE - SHOPPING DISTRICT

Jim approaches the end of the concourse at high speed. A daredevil look on his face. He prepares to take the turn.

He squeals around a corner - and finds Aurora right in his path. He dodges wildly and disappears down a stairwell. A long series of horrible crashing sounds.

76.

Stunned, Aurora takes a step toward the stairs. Hesitates. Turns away and resumes jogging.

INFIRMARY

Jim lies in the autodoc - his head protruding, his body visible behind glass. Lasers and sensors pass over him.

AUTODOCTwo separated ribs. Sprain of the right elbow. One dislocated thumb.

JIMAm I gonna be okay?

Blindingly fast, robotic hands straighten Jim’s arm. Wrap his ribs and arm with white bandages. Jim shouts in shock.

AUTODOCLeave the bandages on for one week.

The autodoc opens and Jim climbs out, testing his arm.

JIMThanks, doc.

AUTODOCAnd take better care of yourself.

CONCOURSE BAR - EVENING

Aurora sits at the bar in front of a martini.

AURORAI envy you.

ARTHURHow so?

AURORAYou have a purpose. You’re always happy. You don’t want anything you can’t have.

ARTHURSure. But you’ve got legs.

AURORA(laughs bitterly)

I’ll trade you.

ARTHURHow’s the book coming along?

77.

AURORAFine. I’m working on it.

(she sighs)Is this it, Arthur? Am I going to be sitting here in thirty years, drinking martinis and telling you how chapter three hundred twelve is going? I’ll never make it. I’m not sure I can handle next week. I’m so tired. Tired of fighting myself.

ARTHURWhat are you fighting yourself about?

Aurora shoots Arthur a naked look, as if the question cuts deep. But she doesn’t answer.

JIM (O.S.)Arturo!

Jim walks in, his arm bandaged. Looks at Aurora in surprise.

JIM (CONT’D)Tuesday’s my day with Arthur.

AURORAToday’s Wednesday.

JIMI slept through Tuesday?

A spasm of emotion in Aurora’s face. She hardens.

AURORAYou’re pathetic. The bar’s all yours. Thanks, Arthur.

She spins off her stool and stalks away. Jim watches her go. Sits down and drains her martini at a gulp.

JIMI’m in hell.

ARTHURHow so?

JIMI screwed up, Arthur. I woke her up, and I can’t take it back. I can’t send her home. I can’t put her back to sleep. That’s my whole life. Everything’s broken and I can’t fix it.

78.

ARTHURYou said you could fix anything.

JIMI did?

ARTHURWell. You were drunk.

JIMWhat do I do, Arthur? What am I supposed to do?

ARTHURWhat humans always do.

JIMWhat’s that?

ARTHURImprovise.

PARIS SUITE

Aurora looks through a collection of snapshots. Aurora’s farewell party. She touches them one by one. They begin to move and speak. Good wishes. Laughter and cheers.

Finally only one snapshot still plays. Aurora’s mother.

AURORA’S MOTHERI promise we’ll think of you every day. When you wake up, I know we’ll be gone. But you just know that we lived our lives remembering you, and holding you in our hearts.

(She starts to cry.)You were never happy here. Nothing was ever enough for you. I know.

(She tries to soldier.)I hope you find what you’re looking for. I hope it makes you happy.

Aurora watches, devastated.

GRAND CONCOURSE - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

Aurora walks down a promenade like a sleepwalker in her nightgown. Her hair half-unravelled, her face drawn.

Below on the Concourse floor, Jim lies on a sofa in the artificial twilight, a blanket thrown over him.

Aurora stops on the promenade. Looks down at Jim. He sees her. For a long moment their eyes meet. Then she walks away.

79.

Jim sits up. Looks thoughtfully around the vast Concourse.

HIBERNATION BAY - NIGHT

Aurora walks down a row of sleepers in her nightgown, looking at their faces. She stops in front of an empty pod. Her own.

On impulse she stoops and pulls at the canopy. It opens. Aurora steps into the empty pod.

She curls up on the floor. Leans back. Closes her eyes. Tears run down her cheeks in the dim light.

GRAND CONCOURSE - MORNING

Jim crosses the Grand Concourse wearing his tool belt. He counts under his breath, pacing off a distance.

He chalks a huge square on the carpet. With his multitool he cuts the carpet away, revealing the steel deck beneath.

He pulls his laser cutter from his belt and begins cutting into the deck plates themselves.

CONCOURSE BAR - DAY

Jim, in work clothes and tool belt, drops by the bar. He’s as dirty as a coal miner but he looks happy.

ARTHURHello, Jim. Whiskey?

JIMCoffee.

ARTHURComing up. Are you getting my barstool dirty?

JIMGot to get dirty to get things done, Arthur. If your hands are too clean, it means you’re not making anything.

ARTHURAnd what are you making?

Jim takes a sip of his coffee.

JIMImprovements.

80.

GRAND CONCOURSE - ELITE PROMENADE - DAY

Aurora strolls listlessly. Glances over the railing at the Grand Concourse below - and gasps.

GRAND CONCOURSE

Aurora walks wonderingly up to a GARDEN on the Concourse: a ten-foot OAK TREE surrounded by green grass and flowers.

She walks onto the lawn and falls to her knees in the grass. Reaches out to touch a row of daffodils in disbelief.

FADE TO BLACK.

SUPER: THREE WEEKS LATER

INT. ELEVATOR - DAY

Jim descends in an elevator. Soothing music plays.

Suddenly the elevator jerks to a halt. The music stops. He looks around in confusion. The lights go out. Weak auxiliary lights come on.

Jim punches buttons. Nothing. He tries again. Nothing.

Finally he pulls out his multitool. Pries at the doors.

EXT. ELEVATOR

Jim squirms out head-first between the elevator doors, several feet above the floor. Climbs to his feet.

As soon as he’s out, the elevator chimes. The doors open: the car at floor level, music back on. Jim stares at the elevator indignantly.

CAFETERIA

Aurora walks in wearing slippers and pajamas. Her hair in a ponytail. She shuffles up to the food machines. Hits buttons.

The cereal machine releases an avalanche of breakfast cereal. Aurora backs away in alarm. The flood of cereal continues.

A sudden burst of static from the P.A. system.

VOICE (VIA P.A.)This is Deck Chief Gus Mancuso.

Aurora spins around in shock.

81.

EXT. ELEVATOR

Jim stares up at the P.A. speaker in amazement.

VOICE (VIA P.A.)Who the hell planted a tree on my ship?

The Grand Concourse! Jim sprints away down the corridor.

GRAND CONCOURSE

GUS MANCUSO stands at a deck steward’s station, intercom mic in hand. A stocky man of 55, with a bristling mustache, wearing a crewman’s coverall. Haggard and weary. He stares in consternation at the garden in the middle of the Concourse.

Jim and Aurora race into the Concourse from opposite directions - Jim in his work clothes, Aurora in her pajamas. They see Gus and stop, dumbstruck.

GUS(pointing at the tree)

Who did that?

Jim raises a hand sheepishly. Gus shakes his head.

GUS (CONT’D)I can’t even talk about that now. Who are you?

JIMJim Preston.

AURORAAurora. Aurora Dunn.

GUSGus Mancuso, Senior Deck Chief. Nice to meet you. Anybody else awake?

AURORANo. Just me and him.

GUSHow long you been up?

AURORAA year.

JIMTwo years.

GUSOuch.

(looks them in the eye)

82.

(MORE)

You know what it means, right? There’s no way back into hibernation.

AURORAWe know.

GUSHow far along are we?

JIMThirty-two years. Eighty-eight years to go.

Gus blows air.

GUSThat’s tough.

(he shakes his head)Hibernation failure! They said it couldn’t happen. Now three on one trip.

Aurora shoots Jim a look. Gus doesn’t notice.

GUS (CONT’D)Well, let’s see how bad things are.

COMMAND DECK

Gus leads Jim and Aurora to the Bridge’s armored hatch.

JIMYou have no idea how long I’ve been trying to get in there.

Gus swipes his crew card through the lock and the door opens.

GUSNow you’re in. Don’t touch anything.

BRIDGE

The computer consoles of the Bridge brighten as they enter. Gus walks from station to station, studying the screens.

AURORAIs this where you work?

GUSNo, this is flight crew. I’m just a deck chief. But I can read the instruments. We’re on course. Whatever’s wrong with the ship, NavComp’s still minding the store.

83.

GUS (CONT'D)

JIMSomething’s wrong with the ship?

GUSThree pod failures? Something’s wrong. Question is what.

He turns to leave.

AURORAWait. What about turning the ship around? Can’t we go back to Earth?

Gus almost laughs.

GUSWe’re doing forty percent of lightspeed! Turning back would take as long as keeping on.

AURORAThere has to be a way.

GUSSorry. We’re going where we’re going.

Jim looks at Aurora: she’s visibly crestfallen. Gus breaks into a racking cough.

JIMYou okay?

GUSI always get a hibernation hangover, but this one’s bad.

GRAND CONCOURSE

Gus walks with Jim at his elbow, Aurora following.

GUSTwo years! Any other trees I should know about?

AURORALook out!

She leaps forward and pulls Gus back.

Crash! A window-washing robot plummets from a high promenade and shatters on the deck - narrowly missing Jim.

Gus lays a hand on Aurora’s shoulder.

84.

GUSThanks, darlin’.

The robot lies buzzing and twitching. Gus looks at Jim.

GUS (CONT'D)You almost bought the farm!

(looks down at the robot)Never seen a thing like that. You?

JIMNot like that. But robots have been breaking down. This guy makes fifteen.

GUSFifteen?!

AURORAThe breakfast bar went crazy today.

JIMAnd an elevator.

GUSWhat?

AURORAMy door broke last week. I was trapped in my cabin for two days.

JIM(astonished)

You were?

She just looks at him.

GUSThis is all bad news.

CAFETERIA

Gus sits nursing a cup of coffee. Jim and Aurora across the table from him.

GUSYou don’t understand. This ain’t the Maximilian or some space tug like that. This is the Excelsior. Top of the line. These things don’t happen.

AURORAYou’re saying this is serious. You’re saying we should be worried.

85.

GUSNo such thing as a small problem on a starship.

JIMSo what does that mean?

GUSIt means you work for me now. We’ve got to figure out what’s going on.

He rises stiffly from his seat. Takes a deep breath.

GUS (CONT’D)Okay. Come on.

GRAND CONCOURSE - TECH STATION

Gus leads Jim and Aurora up to a steel pillar set in the Concourse wall. Presses a latch. The pillar swings open, revealing a diagnostic console. A tech station.

GUSAll right. There’s sixteen of these tech stations on every deck.

(pointing)Atmosphere panel. Electrics panel. Robot control node. Data net. Got it?

Jim and Aurora nod, not sure where he’s going.

GUS (CONT’D)Status lights on each unit. Green light good. Red light bad. No light really bad.

(to Aurora)You walk decks one and two.

(to Jim)You walk three and four. Check the lights and record what you find. You get the idea?

JIMYeah.

AURORAOkay. Got it.

GUSI’m going down to the Hibernation Bay. Take a look at our pods.

Jim and Aurora exchange glances.

86.

AURORAThat should be interesting.

HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA’S POD - DAY

Gus kneels in front of the pod, examining the mechanism. He doesn’t look well: sweating and panting as he works.

Something he sees inside the machine makes him forget his discomfort. He stares, astonished.

GUSI’ll be damned.

A sound behind him. Gus turns to find Jim, an electronic slate in his hands.

GUS (CONT’D)You’re supposed to be making your rounds.

JIMI finished.

Gus looks from Jim to the pod mechanism and back again.

GUSI looked at your pod. Very simple. The clock chip’s burned out. Not supposed to happen, but it’s simple.

Jim fidgets. Starts to speak. Gus cuts him off.

GUS (CONT’D)My pod was complicated. A bunch of failures all at once. Whole thing went haywire. I think that’s why I feel so bad.

(points at Aurora’s pod)But this pod...

JIMGus...

GUSYou did this.

JIMYeah.

GUSI was thinking what a lucky son of a bitch you were, stuck with a beauty like Aurora. But it wasn’t luck.

87.

JIMNo.

Gus sits down heavily, looking at Jim.

GUSShe knows?

JIMShe knows.

GUSI could see there was some trouble between you. Damn.

(he shakes his head)How long were you alone?

JIMA year.

Gus takes that in.

GUSStill...

JIMI know.

Jim quietly lays his electronic slate down beside Gus. Gus starts putting his tools away.

GUS’S WORKSTATION

A deck chief’s workroom, dominated by a display table for viewing maps and data.

Gus stands looking at a holographic map of the starship. Breakdowns appear as red markers: dozens, on multiple decks.

Gus works with a stylus: plucking information from the slate Jim gave him and posting it on the map: a new red marker forms everywhere he touches.

Suddenly he coughs painfully. Leans heavily on the display.

GUSYou and me, old girl, we’re not doing so hot.

Aurora enters with a digital slate. Gus straightens quickly. She hands over her slate. Gus scans the page.

GUS (CONT’D)Same as Jim’s. Breakdowns in every system. No connection between them.

88.

AURORAYou saw the hibernation pods?

GUSYeah.

AURORASo you know. What Jim did.

Gus looks at Aurora. He doesn’t want to get into this.

GUSYeah.

AURORAAnd?

She waits, trembling with righteous indignation. Gus looks away uncomfortably.

GUSIt’s not my business.

AURORAHe woke me up! He took away my life. He let me believe...he made me...

GUSI know. I can’t defend it. But...

(he shrugs helplessly)Look. When a drowning man drags somebody down with him, you don’t call it right. But he’s drowning. A starving man steals a loaf of bread, what can you say? You should have starved?

AURORAI would have starved.

Gus looks at her solemnly.

GUSMaybe you would have.

She stands hunched in front of him, misery plain on her face.

Gus looks at her. Steps forward hesitantly and takes her by the shoulders. She huddles in his arms, fists under her chin.

Jim enters carrying a tray of food. Takes in the scene and stops cold. Aurora steps hastily away from Gus.

89.

JIM(awkwardly)

Hey.

CREW BREAK ROOM - EVENING

A small utilitarian lounge. Jim, Aurora and Gus sit around a table. Gus eats voraciously, eyeing Jim and Aurora: they sit tensely, eyes downcast. A moment drags by.

GUSFire. The wheel. Gravity drive.

(grinning)The cheeseburger.

He takes a bite with gusto. Even in their discomfort Jim and Aurora can’t help smiling.

AURORAWhere you from, Gus?

GUSChicago. But I’ve lived aboard ship a long time. The Excelsior’s made five inter-planetary runs, and I’ve been on every one.

JIMHow old does that make you?

GUSFifty-six.

JIMBut how long ago were you born?

GUSOh. Hang on...

(he does mental math)About six hundred years ago. Most of that I lost to hibernation or relativity. Doesn’t count. When I was sixteen I lied about my age and got on a lunar shuttle crew. A few years later I moved on to planetary ships. Made the Venus run a hundred times. Jupiter. Saturn. Then the gravity drive came along. Real spaceflight. I did everything I could to get onto an interstellar ship. I was thirty-six years old the first time I saw an alien sun. No going back after that. I’ve walked on seventeen planets in five solar systems.

90.

JIMThat’s incredible.

AURORADon’t you feel homeless?

GUSI’m a spacer. My home is where I am. You can’t take much with you, so you don’t get hung up on things. You have yourself. The things you do. The company you keep.

CONCOURSE BAR - NIGHT

Gus, Jim, and Aurora walk up to the bar. Arthur smiles as he sees them coming.

GUSEvening, Arthur.

ARTHURChief Mancuso! Good to see you! What’ll it be?

GUSThe usual.

JIMMe too.

AURORAMartini.

Arthur pours. They sit at the bar. Gus raises his glass soberly, looking at both of them.

GUSNew friends.

Jim and Aurora clink glasses with Gus - but not each other.

Gus pushes himself off his stool. Sits at the grand piano and plays - a fine beerhall pianist. Gus touches a switch and lifts his hands: the piano keeps playing.

Gus rises and extends a hand to Aurora. She looks at him in surprise. Softens. She goes to him. Gus sweeps her across the floor. They dance.

AURORA(to Gus, quietly)

Don’t take this the wrong way - I wish for your sake you were still asleep. But I’m glad you’re here.

91.

GUSPleased to meet you too.

Jim watches from the bar.

ARTHUR(to Jim)

Gus always dances with the ladies.

But Gus stops, panting and sweating.

AURORAAre you okay?

With an apologetic bow, Gus totters to the bar and lifts his drink. His hand shakes hard enough to rattle the ice.

GUSI woke up hard.

AURORAYou should rest.

GUSI think I will. Tomorrow morning, eight bells.

JIMGood night, Gus.

AURORAGood night!

Gus gives them a wave and walks off - leaving Jim and Aurora awkwardly together.

JIM(hesitantly)

How are you?

AURORAStranded on a starship.

She rises and walks away.

GUS’S CABIN

Gus leans on his desk, coughing into a handkerchief - leaving the cloth spotted with blood.

INT. AURORA’S CABIN - MORNING

Aurora wakes. Rolls over and looks at the clock. It’s seven.

92.

CORRIDOR

Aurora emerges from her cabin in a robe. Pads down the hall.

SWIMMING POOL

In a bathing suit, Aurora dives into the pool, cleaving the water cleanly and striking out in a crawl stroke.

She reaches the end of the lane. Kick-turns and swims back...

...and the gravity cuts out.

The pool heaves itself into weird humps and tentacles. Aurora flounders in the weightless water, trying not to drown.

BERLIN SUITE

Sound asleep, Jim floats weightless from his bed, his blanket billowing. He touches the ceiling.

GUS’S CABIN

Gus snores, flat on his back. His blankets are tucked in tight: he stays in bed. Only his arms float off the mattress.

After a moment his arms fall back to the mattress. He snores on.

BERLIN SUITE

Jim wakes up on the ceiling, his blanket floating around him. He flails at the air in alarm - and the gravity returns.

He plummets to the floor with a crash.

SWIMMING POOL

Aurora struggles inside a huge glob of water, desperate for air...and the gravity comes back on.

Aurora falls. Tons of water crash down into the pool in a thundering torrent. She splashes to the surface, gasping for air. Eyes wide with shock.

CORRIDOR

Jim strides down the hall. He has a nosebleed: he holds a cloth to his nose.

An elevator opens ahead of him. Aurora bursts out. Her hair is wet, her clothing damp. She sees Jim.

93.

AURORA(shaken)

The gravity went away. I was swimming. I almost drowned.

JIMYou okay?

Aurora falls into step with him.

AURORAWhat if it happens again? What if the air cuts off? Or the food? Or the heat?

They arrive at Gus’s door. She knocks forcefully.

AURORA (CONT’D)Gus!

GUS’S CABIN

The pounding wakes Gus from a deep sleep.

He rises, groggy and weak. Opens his door. Sees Jim and Aurora outside: Aurora damp, Jim blotting a bloody nose.

GUSWhat have the two of you been doing?

INDUSTRIAL CORRIDOR

A service corridor below the passenger decks. Gus, Jim, and Aurora emerge from an elevator. Gus is weak but determined.

AURORAWhat’s wrong with this spaceship? What just happened?

GUSThe pool, huh?

(he shakes his head)We lost the number three gravity generator.

INDUSTRIAL CORRIDOR - #3 GRAVITY GENERATOR

A massive humming machine. Jim and Aurora look at it in awe.

AURORAThat can happen? The gravity can just ...go away?

GUSIt’s a first on my watch.

94.

Gus opens up a control panel: red warning lights glow among the green ones. He points at a dark module.

GUS (CONT’D)Son of a gun. Control computer’s burned out.

Jim frowns thoughtfully at the gravity generator.

JIMIf this thing’s burned out, why’s the gravity back on?

GUSEverything’s networked. Number three went down, so number two and number four picked up the slack. But now they’re working too hard, so maybe they go down too. We’ve got to get number three back up.

AURORA(anxiously)

Let’s do that.

CARGO BAY - SHIP’S STORES

Jim brings the cart to a stop at a massive door labeled SHIP’S STORES. Gus rides shotgun; Aurora in back.

GUSReplacements down here for just about everything.

Gus climbs stiffly out of the cart. Cards the door. It opens on a vast warehouse of pristine white cartons with Homestead Company logos. All labeled in bold print.

JIM(wide-eyed)

Spare parts.

SHIP’S STORES

Jim pilots the cart down a long aisle.

GUSPull over there.

The cart squeals to a halt.

Gus hauls himself up, breathing hard. Approaches a stack of shelves and hits a button. A lift slides along the rack and stops beside him. Gus steps aboard and vanishes upward.

95.

INDUSTRIAL CORRIDOR - #3 GRAVITY GENERATOR

A big white carton sits on the cart’s cargo deck. Jim slides a computer module out of the carton.

Gus leans on the cart and watches, mopping his brow.

Jim punches a release button. The burned-out module slides out of the generator. He unbolts it. Shoves it aside.

GUSYou got the Polaris multitool. All the real wildcatters carry those. You a pro?

Jim slides the new module into place. Bolts it down.

JIMRate-two mechanic.

He punches the release. The generator draws the new module in. It lights up immediately with a reassuring hum.

AURORAWon’t it just burn out again?

JIMIt’s a brand new unit.

AURORAYou’re not thinking. Why’d it burn out in the first place? We haven’t done anything about the real problem.

Gus coughs hard. Wipes his mouth on his sleeve.

GUSGirl’s got a point.

GUS’S WORKSTATION

Gus, Jim and Aurora stand at the display table. A holographic map of the ship between them, with its swarm of red markers.

Gus peers intently at the map - shaky and damp with sweat.

GUSBeen too busy looking at what broke to think about how it broke. But look. Every failure is a burned-out processor. Everything on board is thinking too hard. Why?

He touches one marker after another, reading the text that pops up: diagnostic data.

96.

GUS (CONT’D)All over the ship, all different systems. There’s no pattern.

AURORAWhat about when they happened? Can you look at this over time?

Gus touches the table’s controls.

A graph appears, showing the failures over time: a sudden spike. Then a rising curve. A trickle that swells into a flood. Jim and Aurora look at each other through the display.

GUS(horrified)

It’s a cascade failure.

AURORAA what?

GUSCascade. Look.

(he touches the graph)It started two years ago. Power surge. Fourteen failures in one day. Including hibernation pod 1498.

JIMThat’s me.

GUSThat’s you. Something big failed. Failed hard. So everything else on the ship picked up the load.

Gus traces the shallow part of the curve with his finger.

GUS (CONT’D)But the load’s too heavy. After a while, little things start burning out. Robots. Infomats.

His finger rides up the rising curve of the graph.

GUS (CONT’D)Now it’s the big players. Hibernation. Gravity. Life support. If we don’t stop it...

He traces the climbing curve to the top.

AURORAI’m stranded on a sinking ship?

97.

GUSWhatever happened two years ago, that’s the key. Gotta find the source.

JIMWhere do we look?

GUSThere’s only a few things big enough to put this kind of load on the ship.

ENGINEERING SECTION FIREWALL

A massive bulkhead, striped with warning signs. An armored door labeled ENGINEERING SECTION leads inside.

Gus swipes his crew card through the lock. The door opens. He leads Jim and Aurora through.

ENGINEERING SECTION - ELECTRICAL PLANT

A vast industrial space filled with transformers and rectifiers, all buzzing with barely contained power.

Gus leads Jim and Aurora in. They stand at a railing, looking in awe at the massive machinery. Gus appears drawn and weak.

GUS(hoarsely)

Now this is a starship.

He sags against the railing and falls. Hits the deck hard.

JIM & AURORAGus!

INFIRMARY

Gus lies in a medical scanner. Jim and Aurora watch as the machine bathes Gus in light, sensors floating over his body.

GUSWhat does it say is wrong with me?

The scanner’s display screen lists not one diagnosis, but hundreds: disorders, diseases, dysfunctions.

JIM(hiding his horror)

It’s a few things.

MEDICAL SCANNERDiagnosis complete.

98.

Gus hauls himself out of the scanner. Pulls a bathrobe on and comes around to look at the screen. He sees it and blanches.

MEDICAL SCANNER (CONT’D)Six hundred twelve disorders found.

GUSWhat’s the summary?

MEDICAL SCANNERPan-systemic necrosis. Progressive organ failure. Cause unknown.

GUS(losing his temper)

I’ll tell you the cause. My goofy hibernation pod is the cause.

AURORAWhat’s the treatment?

MEDICAL SCANNERNo treatment known.

They exchange troubled looks. Gus pivots the monitor so that only he can see the screen.

GUSPrognosis.

A series of images flickers over the screen, casting shadows on his face. Gus swallows hard and looks away.

GUS (CONT’D)How long have I got?

Pill bottles clatter into a metal bin. Gus looks at them.

MEDICAL SCANNERThese sedatives will alleviate suffering in the final hours.

Gus walks out. Jim and Aurora hurry after him.

CORRIDOR

Jim and Aurora find Gus already walking away. They fall into step on each side of him.

AURORAMaybe it’s not true. It’s just a machine.

99.

GUSState-of-the-art machine. Anyway, I can feel it happening.

JIMGus...

AURORAWhere are you going?

GUS(through clenched teeth)

My cabin. I need a minute.

He waves them away and walks off. They watch him go.

GUS’S CABIN

He studies himself grimly in the mirror: gaunt and sickly. Suddenly he pounds both his fists on the dresser top in a burst of rage.

GUSDamn it!

He leans on the dresser, breathing hard.

He pulls his closet open. Inside hangs his dress uniform - a sharp-creased suit of navy blue, the chest brimming with medals and ribbons. Stars and planets.

EXT. GUS’S CABIN - DAY

Aurora presses the doorbell and raps on the door. No answer.

AURORAGus! Gus!

Beside her, Jim uses his multitool to remove the cover plate of Gus’s door switch. Twists wires. The door opens.

INT. GUS’S CABIN

Jim and Aurora rush inside - and find the room empty. They look around in surprise.

JIMWhere would he be?

FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK

Jim and Aurora find Gus sitting in an armchair in his dress blues. A lonely figure staring out at the vast sweep of space. They rush to him.

100.

AURORAGus! Are you all right?

Gus looks up at them. Speaks in a whisper.

GUSHurts. Should have taken the damn pills.

JIMI’ll get them.

GUSNo. Just sit with me.

Aurora sits beside Gus. Takes his hand. Jim pulls up a chair. Gus gazes out at the cosmos. His voice is reedy and thin.

GUS (CONT’D)Space is a funny thing to love. When you’re young, the stars are always out of reach. Then you get on a spaceship and get up there. But you’re still looking out through a wall of glass. So you put on a spacesuit and go outside. But you’re still wearing gloves, still looking through glass at something you can’t ever touch. Hard way to fall in love.

A long breath rattles out of him. He takes his shipcard from his pocket. Hands it to Jim.

GUS (CONT’D)My shipcard. It’ll get you where you need to go. Jim. Fix the ship.

JIMI will.

GUSYou two. Take care of each other.

He turns to Aurora, slow and frail.

GUS (CONT’D)How do I look?

Tears stream down Aurora’s cheeks. She smiles at him.

AURORAYou look magnificent.

Gus’s head falls back on the headrest.

101.

GUS(whispering)

Ladies love the dress blues.

A breath sighs out of him, and he’s gone.

Jim looks at Aurora. Her face shines with tears. She still holds Gus’s hand.

INT. AIRLOCK

Gus lies on the deck in his dress uniform, hands folded on his chest. His eyes closed peacefully. Jim stands beside him, wearing a spacesuit.

Jim hits a button. The airlock door opens. The gravity cuts out. Gus floats off the floor.

Jim drops to one knee beside him.

EXT. AIRLOCK

Aurora stands watching through the porthole. She sees Jim guide Gus out through the door into the dark night of space.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR

Gus drifts away among the stars. An endless silence.

EXT. AIRLOCK

Aurora watches as the outer airlock door closes. Jim turns to look at her. Their eyes meet, unreadable.

CONCOURSE BAR

Aurora arrives. Slouches onto a barstool. Utterly forlorn.

AURORAArthur, Gus is gone.

ARTHURWho?

AURORAGus! He’s dead.

ARTHURWell, no point crying over bridges before they’re hatched.

AURORAWhat?

102.

ARTHURSo what’ll it be, passenger?

AURORA“Passenger?” It’s me!

Arthur’s smile widens into a rictus grin. His head twitches.

AURORA (CONT’D)Arthur?

Arthur slams forward across the bar with horrible violence - rictus grin frozen on his face - and lies inert, staring.

Aurora backs away in horror.

Blue light floods the scene. Aurora looks up. The Concourse lights begin to race through their daily cycle - dawn to dusk to dawn in seconds. And then -

Total darkness as the Concourse lights fail completely. Aurora screams.

Auxiliary lights come on - dim spotlights all over the Concourse - and Jim is revealed approaching. He stops ten feet away. Tool belt over his shoulder and rigged for work.

JIMAurora.

Aurora’s relief is obvious - but she doesn’t go to him.

JIM (CONT’D)We’re losing the ship.

(off her stare)I’m going down to Engineering. See if I can fix it.

She looks at him incredulously.

AURORAJust like that.

JIM(uncomfortably)

I know you don’t want to talk to me, or even be around me. But...

AURORA(cutting him off)

You want me to come.

JIMYeah.

103.

They look at each other across ten feet of air. Both scared.

AURORAOkay.

ENGINEERING SECTION FIREWALL

Jim and Aurora arrive at the Engineering Section’s armored door. Aurora carries an electronic slate.

AURORAWhat are we even looking for?

Jim swipes Gus’s card through the switch. The door opens on a thundering darkness.

JIMSomething broken. Something big.

ENGINEERING SECTION - ELECTRICAL PLANT

A harrowing gauntlet of electrical equipment. Jim and Aurora move through the plant, dwarfed by the scale.

ENGINEERING SECTION - PROPULSION

Jim and Aurora stand under a titanic metal cone surrounded by complex machinery. Jim inspects a panel of indicator lights. Aurora studies the map on her electronic slate.

AURORAWhat’s this one?

Jim taps a printed legend on the indicator panel.

JIMPropulsion. Starboard engine.

AURORARight. Is it broken?

JIMLights are all green. Seems okay. What’s next?

Aurora looks back at her slate.

AURORAPower plant, navigation, and the other engine. This way.

104.

INDUSTRIAL PASSAGEWAY - FIRST DOOR

They arrive at a closed hatch. Jim swipes Gus’s shipcard through the lock. It flashes red and refuses to open. Jim frowns. Tries again. No luck.

AURORAWhat’s the matter?

JIMCan’t get in.

(perplexed)Gus’s card should open any door.

AURORATry again.

He looks at her. Tries it again. No effect. Aurora studies her map. Turns and walks away.

INDUSTRIAL PASSAGEWAY - SECOND DOOR

Another door. Jim swipes Gus’s card: again the lock flashes red and refuses to open.

JIMThe whole section’s closed off. Something’s up.

AURORAIsn’t that what we’re looking for? Open it.

Jim raises his multitool and removes the cover plate of the door switch. Connects two contacts inside.

The door opens.

A howling gale drags Jim and Aurora inside.

INT. BREACHED COMPARTMENT

Aurora and Jim tumble inside. The wind slams them together. Batters them against the deck. Jim falls on top of Aurora.

They gasp for breath. Wind rages around them.

They look up in horror at a puncture in the hull. It’s a head-sized hole punched through from outside, jagged edges pointing inward. Air screams out into space.

The door starts to slide shut behind them.

105.

Jim scrambles toward it, fighting the wind. Dives into the doorway. It clamps down painfully on his arm and shoulder - preventing it from closing. Air blasts in through the crack.

Aurora lies gasping on the deck under the hole.

JIMAurora!

He kicks her fallen slate across the deck to her.

Aurora lunges for the slate. Rises to her knees and slams it over the hole.

Air pressure pins it there. Wind whistles through the cracks.

The pressure comes up. The door slides open, releasing Jim.

He rips an emergency foamer from the wall and sprays epoxy foam over the puncture. The foam hardens instantly, sealing the hull breach and cementing the slate in place.

They look at each other, catching their breath.

JIM (CONT’D)You okay?

AURORAThere’s a hole in the ship.

JIMMore than one.

He points. On the opposite wall, another puncture leads deeper into the starship.

INT. MACHINE ROOM

Jim and Aurora enter cautiously. They see yet another hole, leading deeper into the ship.

JIM(deadpan)

This is bad.

INT. CORRIDOR

Steel girders march down the corridor wall. A blackened hole pierces every girder.

Jim and Aurora walk the passageway, staring at the damage. An ominous rumble grows louder as they go.

AURORAWhat the hell is that?

106.

They arrive at the end of the corridor. There’s a hole punched through a door marked FUSION REACTOR. Fiery light shines out. The deep rumble is louder here.

They exchange a look. Jim cards the door. Ruddy light bathes their faces as the door opens.

REACTOR CONTROL ROOM

Jim and Aurora enter. Sweat rises instantly on their faces. The room is blistering. Metal creaks in the heat.

To one side, the reactor’s massive console. It’s in chaos. Displays full of static, red lights flashing. TEMPERATURE CRITICAL. CONTAINMENT UNSTABLE.

To the other side, a long narrow window looks into the reactor itself. Inside, a caged sun rages at its bonds. On the verge of meltdown.

In front of them, a hole is blasted in the console. A meteor - a pitted orb of iron - lodged deep in a computer module.

They stand terrified in the middle of the chaos.

AURORAI guess we found it.

JIMYeah. Guess we did.

Aurora edges up to the blasted console.

AURORACan you fix this? I thought you were more of a robots-and-refrigerators guy.

(she looks at the reactor)We’re going to die.

Jim joins her, surveying the damage.

JIM(hopefully)

There’s replacements for everything.(looks at the reactor)

Or...we’re going to die.

CARGO HOLD

Jim and Aurora roll through the stacks in the cart, reading the labeled shelves.

107.

SHIP’S STORES

Aurora stands beside the cart, looking up. Jim descends into frame on a lift. A crate beside him. Jim grins.

JIMGot it.

REACTOR CONTROL ROOM

Jim stands sweating in front of the console, multitool in hand. Sizing up the job. The replacement module sits waiting, ready to install.

The ruined module is still in place: a few lights flicker on its displays. Aurora looks anxiously at it.

AURORAIs that thing still running?

JIMI don’t know. Barely.

AURORA(nervously)

Maybe we shouldn’t do this. Maybe it’ll be okay.

(off Jim’s look)Okay, okay. Do it.

Jim goes to work. His multitool whines - unfastening the lockbolts that hold the module in place.

He pulls on the module. It won’t come out.

He looks into the crater: the meteor pins the module in place. He pries at the meteor with his multitool. It shifts.

Jim grips the meteor and strains. It tears free. He stumbles back, the meteor in his hands.

Electricity arcs inside the damaged module.

The reactor roars. The caged sun swells and reddens, scorching the walls of its chamber.

JIMNo!

Jim drops the rock. Drags the old module from its socket.

He grabs the replacement module. Aurora joins him. Together they wrestle the new module into place. Jim bolts it down. Slams it home. It lights up.

108.

For the first time in two years the reactor is whole. Static vanishes from the displays. Flickering lights go steady.

An electronic buzz resolves into a soothing voice:

ANNOUNCERWarning. Temperature critical. Reaction mass limit exceeded. Venting reactor.

They turn to the reactor window. A deafening boom makes both of them duck and cringe.

ANNOUNCER (CONT’D)Vent fail. Manual override required.

An emergency control station rises out of the console: a cluster of instruments beside a chunky red lever.

AURORABut we fixed it!

ANNOUNCERVent reactor. Manual override required.

Jim goes to the vent station. Grips the red lever. Looks at Aurora and hauls the lever down.

A deafening BOOM.

ANNOUNCER (CONT’D)Reactor vent fail. Vent tube door...

JIMCome on!

Jim pulls the lever again. BOOM.

ANNOUNCERReactor vent fail. Vent tube door non-responsive.

A holographic image appears above the console, showing a schematic of the fusion reactor: the vent tube leading out into space. The tube is sealed by a massive door.

The door flashes red.

Jim touches the hologram. It zooms in on the vent tube door. Jim studies the mechanism - the light painting his face.

JIMIt’s a door. I can open a door.

Aurora looks at the hologram. Looks at Jim.

109.

AURORAHow?

INT. ENGINEERING SECTION - MAINTENANCE AIRLOCK

An industrial airlock surrounded by cabinets and storage lockers. A window looks out on the stars.

Jim pulls on a spacesuit as Aurora watches in disbelief. Jim is scared but putting on a brave face.

AURORADo you know what you’re doing?

Jim takes a deep breath. Steadies himself.

JIMI open the door. I get clear. You vent the reactor.

He’s struggling with the suit. Aurora helps him seal it up. He slings his tool belt over his shoulder.

AURORAYou “get clear?” What happens to you when that door opens?

Jim ponders that. He grabs his laser cutter and cuts the door off the spacesuit locker.

He hefts the heavy steel door on his arm.

AURORA (CONT’D)What are you doing?

JIMHeat shield.

AURORA(appalled)

It’s a door!

JIMIt might help.

He lugs the door to the airlock. Leans it against the wall.

Aurora stares at him in dawning realization.

AURORAYou’re going to die out there, aren’t you.

JIMI’m hoping not.

110.

Aurora picks up his helmet and stands in front of him. For a moment they stare at each other.

AURORAI can’t live on this ship by myself.

JIMIt’s going to be okay.

Jim gives Aurora a handset communicator.

JIM (CONT’D)You can talk to me through this.

Aurora puts on Jim’s helmet. Speaks into the handset.

AURORACan you hear me?

JIM(nodding)

Can you hear me?

His voice issues from the handset, tinny and small. She nods.

A deep rumble. The floor shakes under their feet.

AURORAYou’d better go.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - MAINTENANCE AIRLOCK

Jim eases out of the airlock - and out of the ship’s artificial gravity. He hears only his own breathing, the purr of his ventilator, his own footfalls.

He steps onto the hull, his grav boots sticking firmly - and his perspective wheels...

...until the hull becomes the ground beneath his feet.

He walks across the window. Inside, Aurora stands in the ship’s internal gravity. At right angles to him.

INT. WINDOW

Aurora looks at the soles of Jim’s boots, stuck to the glass. His space-suited body cantilevered impossibly away from her.

She raises her hand to him. He nods and strides away.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - ATOP THE SHIP

Jim rises into view over the horizon of the curving hull. A spacefaring knight with his shield and tools.

111.

We see the Homestead Company logo on his improvised shield, surrounded by a slogan:

The Homestead Company: Your Future is Our Business.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - REACTOR CONTROL ROOM

Aurora dashes into the control room. It’s worse. The caged sun roars. Expanding metal creaks and groans. Sweat dampens Aurora’s clothes in the blast-furnace heat.

She touches the vent lever - and snatches her hand back with a cry. Too hot to touch.

ANNOUNCERContainment failure imminent.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - VENT TUBE DOOR

Jim arrives at the opening of the vent tube: a circular port twenty-five feet across. He anchors his tether. Steps inside.

AURORA (V.O.)Jim. Where are you?

INT. REACTOR VENT TUBE

Jim walks into the tube: a metal cavern lit by his suit’s worklights.

JIMI’m at the door.

It looms in front of him: a huge metal IRIS DOOR.

Jim twists a recessed handle in the tube wall. A panel recedes, creating a shallow alcove. He steps inside. Turns to find the manual release for the iris door.

He twists the release to the OPEN postion. Nothing happens. He tries again, and again. The switch is dead.

Jim snarls and drops to one knee. Cuts the switch panel away. The circuitry inside is charred and fused.

REACTOR CONTROL ROOM

Aurora takes off her shirt, leaving herself in a tank top. Wraps the shirt around her hand to insulate against the heat.

Grasps the vent lever. Looks fearfully at the reactor.

AURORAI’m ready. Just say when.

112.

REACTOR VENT TUBE

Jim tears the fused circuitry away. Reaches deep into the mechanism of the door. Strains to see inside.

JIMHang on...

AURORA (V.O.)It’s getting bad in here.

Deep in the mechanism, Jim sees something. He pulls his multitool. Snaps the flashlight on. Selects a tool setting and reaches into the machinery. Twists an actuator.

The massive iris door opens.

Bloody light shines out. Jim stares up the tube into the reactor itself. Only the failing containment field between him and the fire.

Jim turns to go - but the iris door slides shut as soon as he removes his hand.

JIMNo!

He reaches into the hole again. He twists. The door opens. Withdraws his hand. Instantly the door begins to close.

He opens it again. Panic rising in his eyes.

He tries to wedge his multitool against the actuator to keep the door open. No luck.

AURORA (V.O.)What’s going on?

Jim swallows hard as the facts sink in.

JIMDoor won’t stay open. I have to stay here.

AURORA (V.O.)What? What do you mean?

JIMI have to hold the door open.

AURORA (V.O.)No. Get out of there.

Jim looks into the reactor. Red light blazing on his visor.

113.

JIMI can’t.

REACTOR CONTROL ROOM

Aurora stands panting in the heat, drenched in sweat.

JIM (V.O.)Aurora. Vent the reactor. The door’s open.

AURORAI’m not going to do this. It’ll kill you.

JIM (V.O.)You have to.

REACTOR VENT TUBE

Jim crouches in the partial shelter of the alcove.

AURORA (V.O.)No. This isn’t what you said was going to happen.

Jim drags his heavy shield over himself.

JIMI know.

His breathing echoes in his helmet. The thunder of the reactor is muffled and distant.

He turns his head. Looks out of the tube. The stars shine cool and white outside.

AURORA (V.O.)Get out of there.

JIMI know what I’m doing.

AURORA(horrified)

Jim.

JIMIt’s okay.

AURORA(a protest)

Jim!

114.

JIM(a plea)

Aurora!

REACTOR CONTROL ROOM

A scream of tortured metal. The reactor window cracks, a faultline crazing the thick glass. It makes a sound like a gunshot. Aurora jumps violently.

ANNOUNCERContainment failed.

JIM (V.O.)Now!

With a cry of anguish, Aurora drops the communicator and hauls the lever down with both hands.

INT. REACTOR VENT TUBE

Fusing plasma blasts down the vent tube.

It almost rips the heavy shield from Jim’s arm. The metal melts and ablates. He clings desperately, huddled behind the metal slab. His grip slipping.

He roars with the effort of hanging on.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - REACTOR CONTROL ROOM

In front of Aurora, the captive sun is discharged from the ship in a cyclone of fire.

She listens in horror as Jim’s scream echoes from her handset on the floor.

INT. REACTOR VENT TUBE

The final gust of burning plasma rips Jim from his nook and blasts him out into space.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - VENT TUBE DOOR

Jim shoots out of the vent tube in a cloud of superheated plasma. His suit blackened in places by the heat. The shield on his arm glows cherry red.

He reaches the end of his tether with a bone-jarring jerk, and the melted tether snaps.

Jim hurls his shield away with all his strength. The force of his throw stops him dead in space.

115.

He hangs motionless, twenty feet from the hull. The ship no longer receding from him - but utterly out of reach.

The luminous plasma ejected by the ship disperses, a vast web of burning filaments shining against the stars.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - REACTOR ROOM

Aurora stands by the darkened reactor, drenched in sweat. The chaos is ended. Quiet restored.

ANNOUNCERVent complete. Commencing re-ignition.

Aurora snatches up the communicator.

AURORAJim. Jim!

In the reactor chamber, a new sun is born, growing from a seed of light into a bright golden orb. It hums soothingly.

ANNOUNCERReactor re-stabilized.

But Aurora can’t tear her eyes away from the communicator.

AURORAJim.

A crackle of static.

AURORA (CONT’D)Jim?

JIM (V.O.)I’m here.

Joy floods Aurora’s face.

AURORAYou okay? Where are you?

JIM (V.O.)Off the port side.

Aurora runs from the room.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - PORT SIDE

Jim floats in space. His breathing echoes in his helmet.

He assesses the damage: his spacesuit scorched and blackened.

116.

A faint hiss. There’s a tiny jet of vapor venting from his left forearm. A leak. He covers the leak with his right hand - and notices a second leak on his right shoulder.

He tries to reach the shoulder leak with his joined hands. It’s impossible. The air gauge on his wrist shows his air supply dropping steadily.

He looks at the ship. Warmth and safety twenty feet away. It might as well be a million miles.

He’s drifting slightly - moving aft past the windows. The realization triggers a sudden panic. Jim struggles foolishly to reach the ship, milling his arms to no avail.

AURORA (V.O.)Jim!

She arrives at a window. One hand on the glass, the other holding the communicator.

INT. WINDOW

Aurora looks out. Jim hangs there, his white suit stark against the black sky. Still clutching his arm.

JIM(tensely)

Hey.

He waves awkwardly. Aurora waves back, grinning.

AURORAYou did it! Come in!

JIMI can’t.

AURORA(her smile vanishes)

Are you hurt?

JIMNo. My tether broke. I can’t get back to the ship.

AURORAWell, don’t you...I mean, can’t you...

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - PORT SIDE

Jim is falling astern more noticeably now. Aurora walks along the windows, pacing him without realizing it.

117.

JIMI don’t have jets. I don’t have anything left to throw. I can’t get back to the ship.

He’s breathing hard. Realizing how thoroughly screwed he is.

AURORAI’ll pull you in somehow.

JIMThe ship’s accelerating. In a minute or two I’m gone.

INT. WINDOW

Keeping pace along the window, Aurora stares at Jim in dawning horror.

AURORAJim.

JIMThis is a stupid way to die.

AURORANo. No.

She comes to the end of the wide window. Runs to the next.

AURORA (CONT'D)Where’s the last airlock?

JIMDeck Six. All the way back. But listen...

Aurora turns and sprints toward the rear of the ship.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - DECK ONE

Aurora runs aft. Flying. Faster than we’ve ever seen her.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - PORT SIDE

The true immensity of the starship becomes plain as Jim glides past. Hundreds of windows.

Air hisses out of his suit at the shoulder. Jim wiggles his jaw against the pressure in his ears. His teeth chatter. A rime of frost on his visor.

The end is in sight: the stern of the ship approaching fast.

118.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - DECK SIX - AFT AIRLOCK

Aurora rips open a locker. Drags a spacesuit out. Wriggles into it, frantic with haste and fumbling.

The communicator buzzes on the floor beside her.

JIM (V.O.)I’m running out of ship.

AURORAI’m going as fast as I can!

JIMAurora.

AURORAYes?

JIMI’m sorry. Sorry for everything.

He’s saying goodbye.

Aurora gets the suit sealed. Jams a helmet on.

AURORAShut up. I’m coming.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR

Jim looks out at the void with fading eyes. The last of his breath escapes in a puff of white vapor.

He passes out. Goes limp. Tumbles along the hull.

INT. AFT AIRLOCK

Aurora slams into the airlock.

AURORAJim. Jim! Talk to me.

She fastens her tether to an anchor in the airlock. Pulls a lever. The external door shoots open with a blast of air.

She sees Jim tumbling through space - already past her.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - AFT AIRLOCK

Aurora dives out of the airlock, arms outstretched.

She rockets toward Jim - but her tether jerks her to a stop just before she reaches him. Horrified, she watches him drift away from her toward deep space...

119.

AURORANo!

Then the trailing end of his tether whips across her field of view. She catches it one-handed.

The tether goes taut, jerking her after Jim. She swings hard against the hull. Grunts with the impact but keeps her grip.

Jim trails behind the starship, dead weight. She reels him in hand-over-hand until she can get her arms around him.

Jim’s face is blue. His eyes wide and staring. Ice crystals on his eyeballs. Aurora screams.

AURORA (CONT’D)Jim!

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - AFT AIRLOCK

Aurora topples out of the airlock back into the ship, dragging Jim inside. She lays him on the deck. Wrenches off her helmet and then his.

He looks dead and frozen.

INFIRMARY

Aurora drags Jim across the room, at the limit of her strength. Wrestles his body into the autodoc. The frost on his skin has melted, but he’s deathly pale. Not breathing.

She stabs at the control panel. A soothing voice responds.

AUTODOCI’m sorry. The patient is dead.

AURORA(incredulous)

Well, resuscitate him!

AUTODOCPost-mortem operations require authorized medical super...

AURORAOverride!

A menu of options fills the screen: DEFIBRILLATION, OXYGENATION, ALPHA WAVE STIMULATION, INSANGUINATION, and so on. Aurora punches every option.

AUTODOCMultiple procedures are not recommended...

120.

AURORA(screaming)

Override, you stupid machine! Do it! Now! Now! Now!

She batters the autodoc with her hands.

AUTODOCExecuting!

Inside the autodoc, a storm of medical instruments descends. In a split second Jim is intubated, laced with intravenous lines, blanketed with sensors.

His body is jolted by electricity. Bombarded with ultrasound. Massaged by magnetic fields. He convulses and shudders.

Aurora watches with her hands over her mouth, afraid of what she’s done. Afraid it won’t work.

The instruments withdraw as quickly as they came.

Jim lies pale and lifeless.

After an endless moment he draws a deep, ragged breath. Aurora wrenches the autodoc open, luminous with joy.

He opens his eyes. Groggy, blinking, seeing nothing. Aurora looks at him from inches away.

AURORAJim.

Jim swims back into focus.

JIMWe’re inside.

AURORAYes.

JIMYou brought me back.

AURORAYeah.

She kisses him, delicately, her hands on his face. The strength returns to Jim’s arms: he crushes her against him.

FADE TO BLACK.

121.

FUSION REACTOR CONTROL ROOM

The fusion reactor rumbles, all its dials and gauges in the green. Power flows like a river into the ship.

HIBERNATION BAY

The five thousand sleepers stand peacefully in their pods.

GRAND CONCOURSE - CONCOURSE BAR - DAY

Arthur polishes the bartop, humming to himself.

Cleaning robots patrol the concourse: sweeping, dusting, polishing. Their dance restored to its former perfection.

GRAND CONCOURSE - GARDEN - DUSK

The ship’s lights are dimmed for nightfall: a blue twilight. Jim and Aurora lie on the grass under the oak sapling, looking up through the new leaves at the stars.

Aurora inches closer to Jim. She takes his hand.

AURORAHell of a life.

Their eyes meet. A smile grows between them. For all that lies behind them. For all that lies ahead.

JIMHell of a life.

We rise away, through the branches of the sapling. Through the skylight into space. The Excelsior dwindles against the glittering cosmos until it is lost among the stars.

FADE TO BLACK.

SUPER: EIGHTY-EIGHT YEARS LATER

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - HIBERNATION BAY

A row of hibernation pods. One by one, they open. A chorus of female voices as holographic stewardesses begin their spiels.

A PASSENGER steps from his pod, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Puts on his robe and slippers...and stops. Astonished.

A LITTLE GIRL in a homespun smock stands watching him.

THE GRAND CONCOURSE (M.O.S.)

The little girl skips into the Concourse - followed by a shuffling army of groggy passengers in robes and slippers.

122.

The passengers stare in amazement at a starship transformed by a century’s habitation. Paths worn into floors, furniture repaired or re-purposed. Walls decorated with murals.

The OAK TREE towers a hundred feet tall over the Concourse. Its branches brush the skylight far above.

Below, gardens of vegetables and flowers. Modified sweeper robots water the plantings. Window-washers till the soil. At the Concourse Bar, Arthur slices vegetables.

In this green glade, DESCENDANTS of Jim and Aurora greet the passengers. They are of all ages: their faces reflect diverse contributions from the ship’s gene bank.

A blue-green planet looms outside the windows, bathed in golden sunlight. Homestead II.

At the aft end of the Concourse, a high wall. Here a long list of dates is inscribed. The last date is the ship’s arrival at Homestead II; the first, Jim’s awakening. In between: an accelerating tally of births, deaths, marriages, catastrophes and achievements...a century of shipboard life.

At the base of the wall, an altar where a collection of artifacts is displayed:

The pitted meteor. Gus’s worn shipcard, his picture still visible.

A beautiful hand-bound book. In the Blink of an Eye: Our Lives Between the Stars, by Aurora Dunn. Beneath the title, a handwritten dedication: For Jim.

In the center of it all, in the place of honor: the photo strip of Jim and Aurora from their first date.

They laugh. They clown. She kisses him.

Aurora looks into the camera’s eye.

Jim looks at Aurora.

FADE OUT.

THE END.

123.