Conflicts of the last progenitors

Graynose bows five degrees; Lo-Cheun bows ten degrees; the two-stars bow thirty degrees. They all stand upright. The diminutive Bio Senior looks at Heinrich for a moment- as if observing a wayward child- WHISTLES an odd melody and then shakes his head.

Heinrich, inscrutable, stares back at the little man.

GRAYNOSE

Is this- is what you’re doing-

somehow for Josef?

Heinrich blanches; Graynose nods his head and WHISTLES.

Lo-Cheun looks at Graynose: the little Bio Senior looks up at a glass-covered eye in the ceiling.

GRAYNOSE (CONT'D)

Elysabeth, temporarily deafen the

prisoner.

The prisoner winces at the STATIC broadcast directly into his ear canal by means of two orange plugs. Lo-Cheun walks beside Graynose. The two Seniors face away from Heinrich (so that he cannot read their lips).

GRAYNOSE (CONT'D)

We’ve searched the profiles-- the

five terrormongers all had one

thing in common: progeny. Heinrich had a son named Josef. Isabel a

daughter and a son, Raul had three

daughters, the bombers each had a

boy.

LO-CHEUN

New Puritans don’t typically have

children. Think they were coerced

to join?

GRAYNOSE

Perhaps. But maybe they aren’t New Puritans at all-- maybe this is

something else.

Lo-Cheun processes the information.

65.

LO-CHEUN

(looking up)

Elysabeth, call the multi-stars to

conference, priority 1A.

GRAYNOSE

What’re you going to propose?

LO-CHEUN

We should round-up and interrogate

everyone who left a child behind.

It’s all we’ve got.

Graynose ruminates, WHISTLING.

GRAYNOSE

Most people aboard didn’t have

progeny, but still you’re talking

about seventy, eighty resuscitated

individuals. Speaker Thakani had

one-- a son.

LO-CHEUN

No exceptions. We do this and

simultaneously go public.

Graynose scratches his Fleischwerk proboscis; he nods.

EXT. INCLINED AREA / MOUNTAIN RANGE - LATE AFTERNOON

The flypod, tilted back at a thirty-five-degree angle, glides up the incline of a mountain, VWIRR... Sediment and pebbles roll down in the vehicle’s wake. (The craft no longer trails the drag.)

Abacus looks queasy; he says something within the soundproof bubble.

INT. FLYPOD GOBLIN-3 - SAME

SVEN

If you do, aim at the Bullet who

won’t tell us what he knows.

ABACUS

Agreed.

The looming mountain peak is visible through the front of the cockpit bubble; stone races by as the ship gains altitude, VWIRR...

66.

Kenneth wipes perspiration from his brow.

KENNETH

Why don’t you just fly up and over

this peak?

SVEN

The hull-boosters use about ten

times as much power as the

thruster. I’d rather not strain

the ‘pod.

The ship reaches and then crests the zenith; the ground below drops away revealing a crater ten miles across.

The ship free-falls; Abacus shuts his eyes; Kenneth tenses; Sven grins.

On the console, below the word ‘LIFT’ are buttons numbered: 150, 125, 100, 50 and 25; Sven CLICKS 150. Hull-boosters kick on- POOMF- and the falling ship stabilizes. Sven dials the number 100; the angle of the soaring flypod conforms to the downward slope of the crater.

Abacus opens his eyes and looks at the cyclopean crater into which the flypod descends. The ship WOBBLES.

KENNETH

Something wrong?

SVEN

No, just wind. Hey-

(he squints and stares

ahead)

-is that a fissure?

Sven points his right index finger to a black line in the bottom of the crater; Abacus and Kenneth look at the anomaly.

EXT. CREVASSE WITHIN THE CRATER - MOMENTS LATER

The flypod vertically descends into the crevasse: the cleft is only five yards wider than the vehicle itself. Filling much of the sky directly overhead is the demonic orange-red sun.

INT. FLYPOD GOBLIN-3 - SAME

Sven, Abacus and Kenneth observe the close walls of the crevasse; the craft nears the floor of the niche...six-hundred feet below the bottom of the crater.

67.

SVEN

The winds certainly don’t get in

here.

Sven presses LIFT 100 (CLICK) and dials up the rear thruster; the ship hovers and then moves forward, VWIRR... The hidden crevasse continues to narrow.

SVEN (CONT'D)

The flypod can’t go much further.

You two up for a brief on-foot

foray?

ABACUS

Sure.

KENNETH

I’d like to stretch.

Sven presses LIFT 25, CLICK; the craft slowly sinks to the bottom of the crevasse.

SVEN

Hold on.

The flypod touches down with a loud THUNK and then tilts abruptly to the right: the occupants are jerked roughly in that direction, held fast by their webbing; Kenneth ACKS.

ABACUS

(facetious)

Did we land? I can’t tell it was

such a smooth-

SVEN

Sarcasm from the guy who is

overbalancing us.

EXT. CREVASSE WITHIN THE CRATER - MOMENTS LATER

Dripping with sweat and wearing backpacks, the three men walk along the rocky bottom of the crevasse. Up ahead the walls of the crevasse come together in a dead end.

SVEN

Great. Let’s go back.

68.

EXT. CREVASSE WITHIN THE CRATER - MOMENTS LATER

The sweaty trio nears the flypod; the vehicle rests at an angle upon protuberant stones. After taking final swigs, the three soaked men pack their canteens away.

ABACUS

I’m far too hot to remark upon how

badly parked that ‘pod is.

SVEN

Look around-- there aren’t any flat surfaces in here.