PLASTIC MAN by Larry and Andy Wachowski March 17, 1995 FADE IN: INT. CAGE We are a lab mouse. Our world is a cage; the laboratory beyond the wire mesh has the sprawling limitlessness of a universe with dark endless voids and immense technological instruments gleaming with celestial light. We can hear a WOMAN'S VOICE though we can't understand what she is saying. There are several other lab mice in our cage and as the voice gets closer there is sense of mounting apprehension. We fight the other mice, pushing into the far corner. Suddenly the world beyond the mesh is eclipsed by the WOMAN. If we were not a mouse, we might think she was beautiful. She opens the cage and a panic erupts. There is nowhere to hide as her hand reaches in and TAKES HOLD of us. The cage seems to fall away as she LIFTS us. We can barely hear her voice over the blood pounding in our ears. She TURNS us OVER and we see an enormous hypodermic needle that she uses to inject us with a sapphire-blue fluid. We are then placed in a small air-tight tank. There is a small Plexiglas window and several tiny holes. After a moment we hear the HISS of VALVES OPENING. A milky fluid suddenly floods the chamber and we begin to feel nauseous, our VISION BLURRING and DISTORTING. As quickly as the fluid filled the tank it now drains. The god-like hand again LIFTS us from the tank but something is wrong because -- We SLIP THROUGH her fingers. The GROUND RUSHES UP at us but when we hit -- We BOUNCE. And BOUNCE. FLIP FLOPPING, the bounces coming quicker and quicker, LOWER and LOWER until we are RACING ACROSS the floor. Free! We see the woman in her white lab coat screaming at her assistant as they try to corral us. We DODGE, ZIPPING ACROSS the floor, looking for a way out when we see, set in the tile floor, a drain. The WORLD SWIRLS WITH us as we DASH TOWARDS it, the dark holes widening as we DIVE at them, PLUNGING HEADLONG INTO BLACKNESS -- TUMBLING DOWN the rabbit hole. After a long silent moment, we hear a MAN SNEEZE. INT. DIME STORE The DARKNESS BECOMES a curtain that is yanked open as the same MAN steps out talking to himself. MAN Hi, Susan... no. Hi, Susie... We realize he has just stepped out of a photo booth. We do not see his face, MOVING WITH him, staying waist high as he waits for the photo strip. MAN Howdee, Susan... no... Hello there, Doctor Bright. No no no. Hello, Susan... A smoldering octave lower. MAN Hello, Susan... The green light flashes and the strip of black and white pictures drops into the gate. We DESCEND PAST each picture of the man's face, framed tightly as if each was a panel in a comic book. Each face seems like someone who has a secret or who is trying to look very smart. Except for the last one which looks like he was about to sneeze. The man grabs the strip. EXT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S BROWNSTONE - MORNING An upscale neighborhood: Brownstones and coffee houses. Dr. Susan Bright (WOMAN) steps out of her door. She is the scientist that we saw in the OPENING SCENE. She is in a hurry, juggling a briefcase, an armful of books, a cup of coffee and her keys as she heads for her car. She is bent to the car door as we GLIDE UP BEHIND her. MAN Hello, Susan. The voice hits her like the Hymlich maneuver. SUSAN Oh my God... MAN What god would that be? She turns around and we see the man; Daniel "Eel" O'Brien. Black leather activist. We cannot tell if he is dangerous or just trying to look dangerous. SUSAN Daniel... O'BRIEN (MAN) What? No kiss? Not even for old times sake? She forces a smile and gives him a hug. His hand slips into her lab coat pocket and then away. SUSAN When did you...? O'BRIEN Been out for six months now. SUSAN Really? What have you been doing? O'BRIEN You know, this and that. She smiles. SUSAN Still chasing litterbugs? His grin has an edge to it. O'BRIEN Somebody has to. SUSAN Same old Daniel. O'BRIEN Oh no. Not by a long shot. I may look like the old Daniel O'Brien, but on the inside, nothing is the same. SUSAN Is that so? O'BRIEN Oh yeah. See, Susie, a man doesn't do the hard time and just pick up where he left off. Oh no. The big house does things to a man. SUSAN The big house? O'BRIEN The big house. SUSAN Jesus, Daniel. It wasn't Ryker's Island. It was work camp for white collar criminals. O'BRIEN A cage by any other name would still smell like sweaty ugly men. Sounds like the same O'Brien to her. O'BRIEN You know, I've been following your work at Argon Labs. Her smile disappears. O'BRIEN I've been thinking about you a lot all these years, locked up in my cell. I'd tear through every issue of the Midwest Science Journal looking for your latest findings, watching as you slowly worked your polymerization experiments up through single celled organisms to that holiest of holies, the fruit fly. Exciting stuff. I got to tell you, it really kept me going. SUSAN I guess I should be flattered. O'BRIEN I remember you said, nanotechnology was going to change the world. SUSAN It already is. O'BRIEN I've read they're using it to repair cancer cells. SUSAN And for cleaning up oil spills. O'BRIEN Right. You predicted it. He moves closer, eyes smoldering. O'BRIEN Do you ever wonder what happened to us, Susie? SUSAN It was a long time ago, Daniel. We were young, different people, heading in different directions. That's all. She backs away. O'BRIEN Yeah. SUSAN Well, it was good to see you, Daniel, but I have to be going. O'BRIEN Sure. Can I ask you one more thing? You haven't published anything in a while. How come? She shrugs, getting into her car. SUSAN Nothing really worthwhile. O'BRIEN That's what I thought. She closes the door. O'BRIEN Be seeing you. She watches him turn and walk away in the rearview mirror. She GUNS her car's ENGINE and the SOUND ROLLS INTO -- The ROAR of SMOKESTACKS, gaseous flames burning into boot- black clouds. EXT. CALUMET CITY - DAY An industrial wasteland; towering smokestacks and warehouses of corrugated steel, factories and chemical plants built around a small lake that shimmers with an oily iridescent sheen while its shores churn a frothy green bile. One of the more distinct buildings in this skyline of black steel and blue-gas flame, is Argon Laboratories. It is a heavily secured compound. There are two oblong buildings: one is the main lab building, the other is a chemical warehouse. Where the two buildings are connected, a third structure rises on a steel framed skeleton like a water tower. This is Argon Tower and at the top of the two story private manor, built beside a helicopter pad, is a twinkling glass conservatory. INT. ARGON'S OFFICE A pair of gleaming, red-patent leather stiletto-heeled SHOES CLICK delicately across the floor. WOMAN Icarus? We FOLLOW the high heels THROUGH the office until we see the base of a statue and the name chiseled into stone; "Icarus Argon". We RISE UP the nine-heads-high, heroically proportioned statue and see Icarus Argon as he once was; a single halogen high-lights the massive David-like physique. She crosses the sprawl of the office and everywhere are mementos marking the milestones of Argon's life. His face beams on framed magazine covers; People's "Sexiest Man Alive," and Time's "Man of the Year". A 1989 Mr. Universe trophy is almost lost in the thicket of awards. The Woman calls to the wheelchair-bound figure slouching behind a black, obelisk-like desk. WOMAN Icarus, I thought I would find you here. She is Mrs. Poppy Argon, a stunning woman of cosmetic perfection and a body that might have been surgically cut from a comic book. She designs her own dresses made from Argon rubber or PVC, usually red to match her collection of high heeled shoes and boots. POPPY (WOMAN) You never came to bed. He says nothing. POPPY Have you been here all night? She moves around him and we get our first look at the new Icarus Argon. POPPY How are you feeling today? He is an unwrapped mummy; brown flesh drapes over stringy cords of muscle like a wet paper bag. His eyes, hard white marbles lined with red cracks, coldly stare up at her. ARGON (MAN) I feel like I felt yesterday. She feels his forehead. ARGON Like rotting meat. POPPY You're not rotting meat. He lifts his arm. ARGON Oh no? Smell this. POPPY Icarus, please, if you want me to give you a bath just say so. ARGON No. I'm getting used to it. She opens a manila folder, setting several sheets of paper on a tray in front of him. POPPY Fine. Now I need your signature on this today. He snatches the pen from her and begins signing everything she lays in front of him. ARGON What about Dr. Bright? Poppy sighs. POPPY She's working as fast as she can, Icarus. It will be ready soon. ARGON It's ready now, I know it is. POPPY She says it's not. ARGON She's lying. She lost the first one on purpose. POPPY She did not. The mouse ran down the drain. ARGON She let it escape because she wants me to die. POPPY Don't be a child, Icarus. She is just another scientist and like all scientists, she doesn't care about anything outside the world of the laboratory. She gathers her papers back into the folder. POPPY Right now she is still concerned about the unstable molecular waste generated by the first experiment. I am sure that when she solves that problem she will be ready for the second test. She pats him on the head. POPPY Now you be a good boy today and take your medicine and Poppy will make you forget about everything tonight. She blows him a kiss, wiggling her long red-nailed fingers. EXT. MAIN GATE Susan Bright's car rolls up to the main gate. Inside her car she is searching for her security card key. The GUARD notices and steps out of the booth. She rolls down the window. GUARD Something wrong, Dr. Bright? SUSAN I can't find my key card. GUARD Not a problem. Just let us know if it's lost and we'll make you a new one. SUSAN Thanks. He returns to the booth and the gate arm waves up. EXT. ADMIRAL HOTEL - DAY A poorly painted sign in the window reads: "Transients Welcome." INT. ADMIRAL HOTEL CLOSE ON Susan Bright's Argon ID, as an x-acto knife carefully cuts out the photo. O'Brien is hunched over, working diligently. The hotel room behind him is the kind of place where "cheap" would be the politically correct adjective. There are piles of nondescript scientific journals and reference texts everywhere. The walls around him are covered with clipped articles and we repeatedly glimpse the words nanotechnology, molecular engineering, assemblers and replicators. Using a colored marker he colors in one of the serious- looking black and white photos from the strip. There are only twelve colors in the set of markers so the result looks somewhere between Warhol and Turner-vision. He compares it to the color photo of Susan. Shrugs, good enough. INT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S LAB Susan is not listening, her face as frozen as her picture, her mind somewhere else. NEBBLEMAN Without the nanobot it appears there will be no way to stabilize the waste entirely. Even at subzero temperatures it remains active. DR. NIGEL NEBBLEMAN is Susan's assistant. More nebbish than man. NEBBLEMAN I wonder if there is a way we could catch that mouse. Susan? Susan, are you listening to me? She blinks. SUSAN What? Oh, I'm sorry, Nigel. I was just thinking... NEBBLEMAN Aaabout...? SUSAN This morning. I saw someone I haven't seen in a long time. NEBBLEMAN A man? SUSAN Yeah. I knew him when I was still in school. NEBBLEMAN What did he want? SUSAN I'm not sure. That's the funny thing about him. He's the kind of guy that you never know what he wants or what he might do to get it. EXT. STREET O'Brien is moving against the general flow of traffic on a crowded street. He notices a MAN in a business suit with a briefcase in one hand, a white Styrofoam cup of coffee in the other. The Man, apparently in a hurry, slugs down the last of the coffee, crumbles the cup in his fist and without a second thought, tosses the cup into the hedge. O'BRIEN Hey! The suit walks right past him, oblivious to O'Brien's outrage. O'Brien looks back at the cup and then the Man. A single word hisses from his lips. O'BRIEN Litterbug. He rushes to the hedge and seizes hold of the cup, then whirls back, chasing after the bug. O'BRIEN Hey! Hey, you! Hey, litterbug! Mr. Litterbug! He grabs the bug by the shoulder and spins him around. O'BRIEN Excuse me, but I believe you dropped this. The Litterbug, a very large litterbug, laughs. LITTERBUG (MAN) Yeah? So what? O'BRIEN So what? So what? For starters, how about littering is a crime. LITTERBUG Haw-haw! Why don't you run off and find a cop and I'll wait right here. O'BRIEN Why don't you just put this in your pocket so when you see a garbage can you can put it where it belongs. LITTERBUG Why don't you just shove it up your ass! Haw-haw! The Litterbug starts walking away, but O'Brien continues to dog him. O'BRIEN What is it with you litterbugs? Is it a territorial thing, marking your turf with your garbage? LITTERBUG You better quit pushing me, pal. O'BRIEN I just want to know what goes on in the mind of a litterbug. What chemical is secreted by your smooth brain that tells you, 'It's okay, just chuck it'? LITTERBUG Look, asshole, I don't got time for this. If you got a problem, you better take care of it yourself. O'BRIEN Oh no, no, no. No can do. You enjoyed a tasty beverage and thus this receptacle becomes your responsibility and I don't care if it's a Styrofoam cup or the Exxon Valdez! You've got to learn to take responsibility! LITTERBUG What are you going to do? Make me throw it out? O'BRIEN I'll do whatever I have to do. Fists clench as they eye one another up and down until the Litterbug laughs again. LITTERBUG Jee-sus! You're crazy as catshit! You win. Gimme the cup. Smiling, O'Brien starts to give him the cup. O'BRIEN Believe me, later on you'll feel a lot better about this... When suddenly the Litterbug seizes O'Brien's wrist, yanking him off balance as he pops him square in the nose. A second blow to the gut doubles O'Brien over and a briefcase to the back of the head drops him to the sidewalk. LITTERBUG Later on you're going to feel a whole lot worse! Haw-haw. He kicks him in the gut. LITTERBUG Next time mind your own business! He walks away as O'Brien squeezes the styrofoam CUP, CRACKING it in his fist. O'BRIEN No good stinking litterbug... INT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S LAB Susan is still talking to Nebbleman. SUSAN Do you remember about five years ago, that uh... incident at Purnell Labs? NEBBLEMAN Oh yeah. They were working on molecular assemblers, too, weren't they? SUSAN They also tried using viral R.N.A. as the bonding element. NEBBLEMAN That's right. C.D.C. found out and closed them down... Susan looks into the mouse cage as Nebbleman remembers the rest. NEBBLEMAN Yeah, somebody broke in and stole the samples, one of those animal rights groups, right? I remember now, they freed all the monkeys which caused that huge pileup on the Massachusetts Turnpike, right? SUSAN Yeah. But it wasn't a group. It was one man. NEBBLEMAN That's the guy? She nods. NEBBLEMAN And you think he knows what we're doing here? She nods again. NEBBLEMAN Oh. EXT. MAIN GATE A security card slides through the gate box. The arm raises and Daniel O'Brien drives in, waving to the security man who absently waves back. INT. SECURITY OFFICE We GLIDE THROUGH the frosted glass and out THROUGH the inverted letters spelling, "SECURITY." SIM So you think this psycho- environmentalist character stole your security key to break into the lab? The head of Argon Security sitting behind his enormous desk is D.T. SIM, a little guy with something to prove. His silent partner is Doby, an enormous man with the face of a mastiff. SUSAN It might be paranoia, but I've never lost my keycard before. SIM 'Paranoia is what separates the secured from the unsecured.' He smiles, enjoying his own cleverness. SIM Just a little saying we've got in the security business, Dr. Bright. We get paid to be paranoid. We worry so you don't have to. He lights a stogie. SIM A lot of people think security is just a job, but for me it's a way of life. It's a state of mind. He blows a cloud of smoke into the air. SIM If this nutcase did take it and has half a brain, he'd use it right away, before we could invalidate it. SUSAN Yes, that is what I was thinking. SIM In fact, would it be safe to say, based on your general knowledge of this character, that he is already in the building? SUSAN Yes, he might be. INT. ARGON LAB - CLOSE ON COLORED ID that O'Brien forged, clipped to the pocket of a lab coat. We notice that he also inked in some dark glasses and a moustache. Smiling, nodding, he moves through the busy corridors with a sense of inconspicuous conspicuousness. Susan appears from around a corner, walking toward him as he turns away. Something about the tall moustached man catches her eye when -- NEBBLEMAN Susan! Susan! Nebbleman hurries to catch up. NEBBLEMAN What did security say? SUSAN They'll in validate the key. Probably nothing. NEBBLEMAN Well, you got another problem. SUSAN The replicators? NEBBLEMAN Worse. Mrs. Argon wants to talk to you. She's waiting in the lab. SUSAN This day just keeps going from bad to worse. INT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S LAB FROM INSIDE the mouse cage, we see Poppy looking DOWN AT us. Her perfect red lips slightly curling into a sneer. POPPY Vermin... SUSAN (O.S.) Can I help you, Mrs. Argon? As Susan enters the lab, Nebbleman fades back and disappears. POPPY I spoke to Dr. Argon this morning and he remains frustrated over the loss of the original nanobot. SUSAN I am aware of Dr. Argon's frustrations. POPPY He believes that the second nanobot should be ready for testing by now. Susan does not want to hear this now. SUSAN Dr. Argon is going to have to muster a little patience. I was rushed into testing the nanobot on that mouse and now we are dealing with a toxic waste that has the potential to make Three Mile Island look like spilled milk. Susan stares daggers. SUSAN Under the circumstances, I can't fathom what makes Dr. Argon think we are ready for anything bigger. If C.N.N., or hell, if the E.P.A. knew what was in my basement -- POPPY Is that a threat, Dr. Bright? SUSAN Look, as I have said and will continue to say, the instability of the assembler waste remains my priority -- POPPY While you remain on the staff at Argon Laboratories, your priorities will always be the same as Dr. Argon's priorities. I imagine that is a simple enough equation for a bright girl like you to figure out. Poppy smiles. Susan suppresses the urge to smash her head with a microscope. POPPY If you don't have any questions, I'll let you get back to doing your job. SUSAN Just one question. Since Dr. Argon no longer has feeling below his waist, how is it that you're still able to do your job? Poppy glances up at the security camera in the far corner. She leans close to Susan and whispers. POPPY I could have you fired right now. SUSAN You won't. That's why you're whispering. Poppy glares at her, then spins on her heels and leaves. Still fuming, Susan turns to a special computerized, vault-like machine which is the nanobot freon-containment system. At the top, there is a sealed plate that is connected to an electron microscope. She touches the plate, almost lovingly, letting her anger drain away. Nebbleman skulks back in. NEBBLEMAN He wants another test? She says nothing. NEBBLEMAN I bet he hasn't read a single report we've written on the waste problem. SUSAN I hope you're right. I'd feel a lot worse if he had read them and just didn't care. NEBBLEMAN What are you going to do? SUSAN What I've always done. As long as I'm the only one who can build the nanobot, I'm the only one who can say when it should be tested. As they return to work, we RISE UP TO the unblinking eye of the security camera. INT. SECURITY BOOTH The security booth is Sim's world; he is intimate with every detail of each small framed monitor. SIM Hey, Dobe... Ever wonder if this is how God feels looking down on us? Doby says nothing. SIM Yeah, me neither. EXT. ARGON LABS - DAY The sun, a brilliant ball of lemon yellow, slowly begins to curdle -- Transmogrifying into a full moon, pale and winter blue against a night sky. INT. STORAGE ROOM - NIGHT A dark room filled with barrels labeled, "EXPLOSIVE MATERIALS: CONTAINS TRINITROTOLUENE." A barrel lid cracks open. Two eyes peek out. O'Brien unfolds himself, awkwardly climbing out of the empty barrel. INT. STAIRWELL O'Brien slithers up the stairs, clinging to every shadow. INT. HALL Like a ghost, he glides down the dark empty halls, moving only when the surveillance cameras pan away. INT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S LAB The DOOR HICCUPS and O'Brien slips inside. On hands and knees he crawls toward the center of the lab where the nanobot is stored. Again we PEER OUT THROUGH the wire mesh of the mouse cage. O'Brien's head POPS UP IN FRONT of us. O'BRIEN Oh no, P.O.W.s. He ducks down just as the camera sweeps overhead. He pops back up. Opening the cage, he frees all of the little mice. O'BRIEN Never leave a man behind. He grabs the last one, ducking under the arc of the camera. INT. SECURITY BOOTH There is a flash of white in the corner of Susan's lab. SIM Did you see that? Doby nods. SIM Looked like a... mouse. INT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S LAB The cage is empty. O'Brien finds the security panel of the nanobot containment system. He sprinkles graphite dust on the keypad. When he blows on the dust, four numbers remain covered: 1-6-8-9. From his pocket he pulls out a folded paper. It is filled with a list of all the numbers relevant to Susan's life such as birthdays, phone numbers and significant dates. His thumb stops at "August 6th, 1991. Birth of Nanobot." O'BRIEN Never good at remembering numbers, were you, Susie? He types the date and the pressurized SEALS GASP. The plate rises, revealing a glass tube filled with a sapphire blue liquid. O'BRIEN That's your baby, ain't it? He is about to touch it when the lab DOOR suddenly swings OPEN. He ducks. Holding his breath, he waits. The room is silent. Slowly, quietly, he peeks out. A flashlight blinks near him and he ducks back down. He hears a WHISPER. Panicking, he starts to creep toward the door when a beam of light suddenly pools around him. SIM Look what we caught here. O'Brien can't see because of the light in his eyes. SIM One big muther of a mouse. O'Brien bolts, running straight into Doby's chest. A giant fist hammers down onto the top of his skull as his eyes roll up into his head. FADE TO BLACK. FADE IN: ON NIGHTMARE trapped beneath searing laboratory overhead lights, Argon's hideous face HOVERS OVER us, a cracked lipless smile revealing ulcerous gums and stained teeth. ARGON I've been waiting for something like this my whole life. The voices warp through the watery space. POPPY Bad boy got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The faces float over O'Brien like disembodied heads. SIM You should have stayed in jail, pal. Argon grips O'Brien's head under the chin. Poised between his fingers is a gleaming stainless steel hypodermic needle. ARGON For every environmentalist, anti- industrialist, animal activist that has shoved their myopic, protectionist cause-of-the-month crap down my throat, I shove this down yours! He sticks the needle into O'Brien's neck. O'Brien's eyes flutter, the voices and faces stretching away. Argon's thumb depresses the plunger. POPPY You sure you know what you're doing, Icky? INSIDE the hypo, blood blossoms all around us as the sapphire fluid containing the nanobot is injected into O'Brien. We RUSH with blurred speed INTO his blood stream as we see the nanobot; a microbiotic machine that resembles a snowflake. As it bounces from protein cell to cell, falling AWAY FROM us, it begins to blur as we hear what sounds like MUZAK. The shapes FOCUS again as we realize that we are now LOOKING DOWN INTO the aisle of a grocery store. The two parts of the nanobot become O'Brien and Susan joined together by the grocery cart they are pushing. FLASHBACK - INT. GROCERY STORE It is the 1970s. O'Brien is a granola hippie activist type, extra crunchy. Susan still loves Oreo cookies. SUSAN Nanotechnology is going to change the world, Danny. I'm telling you in ten maybe twenty years, life is going to be a totally new kind of experience. O'Brien is not listening, repulsed by the stock lining the shelves. SUSAN And what I love about molecular science is the way it revolutionizes how we have to think. It unifies the entire world on a single level. Everything is completely connected. Sometimes I can really feel it, everything around us, just a small part of a whole. It's really wonderful. O'BRIEN Yeah, we'll see. SUSAN We'll see? What does that mean? O'BRIEN We'll see how wonderful it is after you spend the next twenty years making Agent Orange. SUSAN God, Daniel, I'm not going to make Agent Orange. O'BRIEN You think the chemists that invented Agent Orange twenty years ago were in school saying, 'Boy, I really got some good ideas for a highly toxic incendiary defoliant.' You think Oppenheimer was dreaming about mushroom clouds before the war? She tries to ignore him. SUSAN We've had this conversation already, Daniel. O'BRIEN All I'm saying is that the companies that have money for the kind of research you're interested in, have money because that's what they're interested in! Money! She stops the cart. SUSAN I'm sorry I brought the whole thing up! If you're gonna flip your wig -- O'BRIEN I can't help it, Suze. It's this place. You know how I get in these stores. They freak me out. All these tiny boxes, little cans filled with eight syllable God knows what. He grabs a can of Spam. O'BRIEN Look at this. They've taken all the food out of food. When you start talking about the future, this is what I see. Huge vats of Spam. You are what you eat and they're turning us into Spam-people. He shoves the can back into the shelf. O'BRIEN You think it's a coincidence that they have all these aisles lined up like this, like a little maze! We're all lab rats running through their maze, pulling lever A or lever B, each designed to create some kind of bio-chemical dependency. All the while they're everywhere, watching us, two-way mirrors, surveillance cameras, nodding to each other, making little notes. SUSAN You're insane. O'BRIEN Am I? Look! Right there! That's exactly what I am talking about. A little BOY is trying to get a box of Trix cereal from a shelf that is too high. O'BRIEN Lever A... He jumps several times, unable to grab the economy-sized box. O'Brien walks over to him. SUSAN Daniel! Don't -- Oh no. The tips of the kid's fingers are slowly coaxing the box from the edge. O'BRIEN Let me help you, kid. The Kid's face widens into a smile until O'Brien pushes the box back. KID (BOY) Hey! O'BRIEN You don't want this. KID Yeah, I do! O'BRIEN You have no idea what this is doing to your body. KID I like Trix! SUSAN Daniel, give him the Trix. O'BRIEN Susan, this is the future of America here. KID Trix are for kids! O'Brien grabs a box of Shredded Wheat. O'BRIEN Here, kid, this is great stuff. Why don't you give it a try? KID I want Trix! Mommy! The Boy's wail swells unnaturally loud as we rise up, DISTORTING, as it becomes -- The PRESSURIZING of the TEST TANK. INT. TEST TANK O'Brien jerks awake. He is inside a dark steel capsule. There is a WET SUCKING NOISE as the hoses are opened and the white assembler fluid begins pumping into the tank. O'BRIEN Mommy! INT. LAB Argon watches the gauges climbing on the tanks with a mad gleam in his eye. Poppy stares at the computer flickering through the model simulation. POPPY Icky, this is so exciting. Sim looks a bit nervous. SIM How long do you leave him in there? ARGON Until he's done. He laughs until the tank shivers. The whole unit is now sizzling hot. A coolant line bursts. Each of them backs away as the tank vibrates under mounting pressure, like a water balloon that is ready to burst. POPPY ... Icky? The TANK EXPLODES, splitting open like a can of whipped cream. We see the world THROUGH the eyes of O'Brien as he rises from the burbling marshmallow-amnion. Everything has a sense of UNNATURAL VISCOSITY as if reality had been remade with molasses. The room CURVES and WARPS, our eyes like carnival mirrors. We see a DISTORTED ARGON staring at us in awe. ARGON My God... it works. Now we see O'Brien. He has been completely polymerized, his entire body shifting and flowing like a drunken wave machine. The rubbery flesh of his face looks too heavy, hanging slack. His eyes bulge and loll as he tries to focus. ARGON Grab him! Hurry! Grab him! Doby is the closest and he snatches O'Brien's arm. O'Brien reacts, yanking his arm which thins to a strand of spaghetti and whips free. O'Brien stumbles backwards, quivering like a Jell-O Slinky until his bare foot, which seems more a puddle than a foot, lands on the main floor drain. His leg slips immediately through the sieve as he slaps down to the floor, one leg sprawled out in front of him. He blinks. Then the rest of him falls through. Sim grabs at the pile of clothes covering the drain but Daniel O'Brien is gone. FROM BELOW the drain we LOOK UP at Argon and the others staring down. SIM That's impossible. POPPY It's a miracle. ARGON It's an organic-polymerization. Behind them the tank core continues to melt down, gelatinous waste splattering the room. POPPY Icky! What's happening? ARGON Who cares! We've got to find him! Hurry! His chair heads for the door. INT. STORM DRAIN A six inch pipe opening GROANS with the sound of STRETCHING RUBBER. Fingers suddenly reach out and grab the edge of the hole. There are a series of CARTOON-LIKE SOUNDS as O'Brien pulls himself out, emerging from the opening like toothpaste. After a struggle he pops free, snapping into normal human proportions. Cradling his head, he stands up in the corrugated metal drain. Unsure of what has happened or why he is naked, he stumbles out into the creek, his bare feet squishing into the muddy water. EXT. ARGON LABS The moon throbs overhead in a sky of dark crushed velvet. Sim and Doby's flashlight beams dart and bounce as they sweep the compound. They find the drain pipe and Sim throws his beam down it, careful not to get his shoes muddy. SIM Ah for the love of God, I ain't going in there. He looks at Doby. SIM You check it out. INT. ELEVATOR Poppy and Argon ride up in the elevator that connects the main lab to Argon Tower. ARGON It works, Poppy. It works, it works! POPPY Now, Icky, I don't need you winding yourself up. I need you focused and in control. ARGON But, Poppy, you don't know what this means -- POPPY You don't either. We won't know anything until we find that guy and find out if he's alive or what. ARGON Yes, that's true. We have to find him, run tests, determine if the polymerization is stable. POPPY In the meantime, we're going to need someone to deal with that mess in the lab. I don't think we should call Dr. Bright. ARGON Oh no. No. We'll get her assistant. What's-his-name? Nebbishman? POPPY Nebbleman. INT. MAIN LAB Nigel Nebbleman enters the building. He is wearing a raincoat over his pajamas that are covered with small bunny rabbits. Poppy is waiting for him. POPPY Dr. Nebbleman, thank God you're here! In her high heels she is taller than him and when they embrace, his head lays against her ample bosom. POPPY I've been nearly hysterical with fright. Thank God you came. I feel so much better that you're here. NEBBLEMAN What happened? Poppy leads him to the stairwell. POPPY As I told you on the phone, there's been an accident. A terrible accident. INT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S LAB We hear Nebbleman's voice crack with panic, as he rushes towards the double doors of the lab. NEBBLEMAN (O.S.) Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. The moment he bursts in and sees the ruptured test tank melting into the white mucous of the assembler waste -- He faints. POPPY Great. INT. ARGON'S OFFICE Nebbleman lifts his face from the paper bag he was breathing in. Panic is cracking his voice. NEBBLEMAN Okay. Alright. Okey-dokey. Now, we need the nanobot. The nanobot that initiated the reaction. Once we have that we can stabilize the meltdown. Simple really. No problem. ARGON The nanobot is gone. Nebbleman's voice rises several octaves. NEBBLEMAN Gone? What do you mean gone? Gone where? His knees buckle as Argon does not answer. ARGON Dr. Nebbleman, we are scientists, you and I and men of science are not concerned with emotions and opinions. We are concerned with facts. Nebbleman is hyperventilating, like a mouse caught in a glue trap. ARGON The fact is, that the milk has been spilled and now we need you to tell us how to clean it up. NEBBLEMAN Cleaned up? It can't be cleaned up! Without the nanobot the waste can't be stabilized! That's what we've been trying to tell you! The only thing we can do is run! Run! Run! Argon signals to Poppy. Poppy slaps Nebbleman. Nebbleman is quiet. ARGON Facts, Dr. Nebbleman. Facts. You've been using cryogenics to control the waste from the mouse experiment, haven't you? NEBBLEMAN Well, yes. The replicators are not as active at low temperatures. ARGON Then perhaps we can use liquid nitrogen to keep the meltdown under control. NEBBLEMAN That might work. ARGON Poppy, order the trucks from the Gary plant. And we're going to need a containment crew. POPPY A containment crew is going to attract a lot of attention. ARGON You're right. Place a call to our friends at the network and to Mr. Joplin at the E.P.A. NEBBLEMAN How did this happen? How did the nanobot activate the assembler fluid? If I'm going to help, I have to know what happened. Argon studies Nebbleman for a moment. ARGON All right, Dr. Nebbleman. Come with me and I'll tell you everything. Motoring his chair around, Argon leads Nigel to the conservatory. The elevator slides open and Sim gets out leading a muddy Doby. POPPY Mr. Sim, did you find him? Sim has O'Brien's wad of clothes tucked under his arm. SIM No, but if he's alive I think I know where he might go. He holds up the key to O'Brien's hotel room; the plastic key chain stamped, "Admiral Hotel." INT. ADMIRAL HOTEL - NIGHT A muddy bare footprint, black grime against green shag. We PULL BACK and see another, then another, the tracks leading toward the white light of the bathroom door. We CLOSE IN ON the bilious white of the steam, the warble of O'Brien whimpering and shivering even in the scalding water. He begins to sneeze and cough as if something were tickling the back of his throat. He snorts at it, inhaling through his nose, trying to suck it out. Finally, he spits a clear silicon-like wad of phlegm that remains connected to his mouth by a long rubbery strand. He spits at it, and it stretches until he flicks it off with his hand. It hangs on the wall for a moment like a sticky rubber slug before being swept down the tub drain. INT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S LAB We RISE THROUGH the floor drain. Wearing a special insulated contamination suit, Nebbleman is on hands and knees examining the lab floor. He lifts a hand and we see an impression that gradually fades as if the ground were a sheet of foam. He slaps it hard and the tile ripples like a waterbed. NEBBLEMAN Oh God, it's worse than I thought. He runs for the door leaving a trail of footprints. NEBBLEMAN Get that crew in here. Now! EXT. ARGON LAB - NIGHT Outside the lab a flurry of activity erupts. Thick hoses are attached to the belly of giant tanker trucks. Brilliant portable kliegs illuminate the grounds like a ball park. Men in bulbous insulated space suits milk the tankers filling scuba-like canisters that are worn on their backs. The bold letters on the back of the tanker read: "WARNING -- LIQUID NITROGEN." Slowly we MOVE TOWARD the "O" in "NITROGEN." It OPENS in front of us like a yawning tunnel which we DESCEND INTO. INT. ADMIRAL HOTEL ROOM - DAY O'Brien is in a deep sleep, mouth wide open, his breathing rasped. Turning his face deeper into his pillow, he is suddenly unable to breathe. He sucks for air with a strained gurgle. His eyes pop open, still suffocating and he bolts upright. We see that his neck has been twisted around like a knotted sheet. His head spins around and snaps back into place. O'BRIEN Mommy? He is dizzy and confused. He rubs his head and neck, panic seeping into his expression as he begins to remember last night's events. He looks down seeing the muddy footprints on the carpet. O'Brien touches his neck where he was injected. O'BRIEN Uh oh. Suddenly the door whaps open, Sim and Doby FILLING the FRAME. SIM Good morning, Mr. O'Brien! Still in his underwear, O'Brien jumps from the bed. O'BRIEN You! I remember you! SIM I'm real touched. Now get your Sunday's on. We're going for a ride. He throws O'Brien's pants at him. O'BRIEN What? I'm not going anywhere! SIM Oh yes you are! O'BRIEN I get it. You're the goon fetch boy. The zookeeper Argon calls in when one of his guinea pigs gets loose. SIM That's right. Sim opens his coat showing O'Brien his firearm. SIM Only this ain't no tranquilizer gun. Now let's go! O'BRIEN Forget it, pissboy! You tell Argon he can call my lawyer. Sim reaches for his gun. SIM The hard way it is! O'Brien heaves a Yellow Pages at Sim which sails past his head. He leaps behind the coffee table. Sim points the gun at O'Brien's head. SIM Not smart! You forgot I've got the gun! O'Brien, on his toes, keeps the table in between him and Sim. O'BRIEN Then let's see you use it, bucko! Dr. Argon's not going to take it very well that you killed his experiment. Sim snorts. SIM Okay. Okay. Doby? He waves Doby to the other side of the table. But before they can grab him, O'Brien spins away from Sim and bolts for the window. He throws it open, yelling. O'BRIEN Help! Somebody help me! Sim and Doby tackle him from behind. SIM I'll take care of this. Hold him. Sim raises his gun high into the air -- SIM Lights out. And brings it down on O'Brien's head. It rebounds off of O'Brien's skull which in turn rebounds off the floor. O'BRIEN Ow! Sim raises it again. SIM I said -- Lights out! And again smashes O'Brien in the head to no effect. O'BRIEN Ouchhh! Cut it out! Sim looks at the gun then repeatedly brings a hail of blows onto O'Brien whose head bounces off the gun and floor like a dribbling basketball. O'Brien grabs his head as Sim tires. O'BRIEN Jesus! Panting, Sim holsters his gun. SIM Get his legs. O'Brien lunges, grabbing the window sill as the two men each take a leg. O'BRIEN No! They heave at his legs trying to wrench him from the sill. O'Brien's body raises off the floor. Struggling and straining with all of his might, O'Brien looks up to secure his grip and his eyes go wide. O'Brien's arms have begun to stretch. He looks back over his shoulder to see that his legs also have begun to stretch. Sim and Doby seem to notice at the same time, that they have stretched O'Brien halfway to the door. SIM Holy shit! The two men let go of O'Brien's legs and he is flung like a slingshot out of the room. SIM Holy shit! He cartwheels in the space outside the window, splayed and flailing spastically. The people, nine floors down, scream as O'Brien plummets toward them. O'Brien's tearing eyes clamp shut in the face of onrushing pavement, a faint sound caught in his ear. An ascending twang, like a tightening guitar string. Whump. O'Brien hits the ground, unsure if he's alive of dead. A woman screams. He rattles his head and opens his eyes. There is a woman in front of him, her face buried in her hands. O'Brien tries to stand. O'BRIEN Oh God -- am I dead? Hearing him, the woman peers out from shielding fingers. She looks up at his arm and screams again. O'Brien is confused. Slowly he turns, following her gaze up, up, up. His arm stretches up to the ninth story window, like a safety line, his hand still gripping the sill. His face contorts in horror. O'Brien screams, letting go. Loopy wet spaghetti strands collect on the sidewalk in a pile as his arm falls. The crowd collectively inhales. The hand plops on the top of the pile like some strange garnish. O'Brien whimpers. A CAR SCREECHES to a stop and O'Brien jumps back at the sound. As he lands, his body jerking to the side, his arm suddenly begins reeling in like a fishing line. The crowd's heads swivel back and forth watching the arm snap back to normal in a loud whip-crack. O'BRIEN Oh God. He cradles the arm under the stare of the gaper's block. Chest heaving, he stumbles back two steps. He shoots a look up at his apartment window. The shadows of Sim and Doby look down. He bolts. INT. ADMIRAL HOTEL ROOM Sim and Doby watch open-mouthed as O'Brien disappears down the street. SIM This is going to take some explaining. Sim whips out his cellular phone and dials. SIM Mrs. Argon? It's Sim. POPPY (V.O.) Mr. Sim? Do you have him? He's alive? SIM Oh yeah, he's alive. Technically. POPPY (V.O.) And you have him? SIM We lost him. INT. ARGON'S OFFICE Poppy sits atop the massive ebony slab of Argon's desk, the phone pressed to her ear. POPPY Here, you tell him. She smiles and hands the phone to Argon. ARGON Mr. Sim, you know I sooner kill the messenger then listen to bad news. INT. ADMIRAL HOTEL ROOM Sim swallows hard. SIM Don't worry there, Dr. Argon. He gave us the slip, in a manner of speaking. But we're definitely closing in on him. Doby frowns. ARGON (V.O.) Mr. Sim, when you do locate him. Do not scare him off again. Just watch him. I think you can handle that. Right, Mr. Sim? SIM You got it, Dr. Argon. He hangs up. SIM Shit! Sim slams his hands on the desk and looks down to find the pictures of Dr. Bright, a heart encircling it. SIM Hello? EXT. ARGON LABS - DAY We are LOOKING THROUGH the LENS of a local network news camera on location outside Argon Labs. The CAMERA RACK FOCUSES and PANS TO network reporter, SPENCER LAMM. SPENCER Tawney, I'm standing in front of the security station just outside of Argon Labs in Calumet City. Since seven o'clock this morning, when security guards barred the weekend staff here at Argon Labs, rumors have been circulating as to the nature of the accident that occurred here last night. He looks over his shoulder as an unmarked tanker rolls past the security gate. SPENCER All we know for sure is that at 9:30 a.m., two sedans carrying the county sheriff and men who have been identified as high-ranking officials of the E.P.A. entered the Argon offices and have not come out. INT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S BROWNSTONE We PULL BACK REVEALING the reporter on television in the kitchen. SPENCER (V.O.) We expect a statement some time today, but until then we can only speculate that whatever did happen here, which has crews working around the clock, no one was prepared for. This has been Spencer Lamm live at Argon Labs. Susan drops her coffee cup when she hears the name. She rushes to turn up the volume but the special report is over. She is searching the other stations when someone POUNDS on her door. THROUGH the peep-hole she sees O'Brien, his face WARPED by the WIDE-ANGLE LENS. SUSAN Oh shit... With the chain still on, she opens the door. O'BRIEN Susie! You gotta help me! SUSAN Daniel, what are you doing here? O'BRIEN Please, Susan! I need help! Something is wrong with me! SUSAN Sorry, Daniel, I'm a physicist, not a psychiatrist. O'BRIEN No, something is really wrong... look! He stuffs his arms into the three-inch slot between the door and the jamb then squeezes his body and head through. Susan steps back, her mouth falls open. SUSAN You... you... She points at him then at the television. O'BRIEN They did it to me! SUSAN The nanobot. As O'Brien spits the story out his gestures become more animated. O'BRIEN Last night, Argon's goons grabbed me, the big one hit me, probably did severe cranio-sacral damage and bam, I drop to the floor, and then Argon was there, and it became like a bad dream. Everyone was laughing as he stuck this big needle in my neck and then I'm not sure what happened but I came to in a metal tank and they drowned me with white goo and I thought I was dead, everything soft and blurry and the next thing I know I wake up back in my hotel and Argon's goons bust in and we fight and I fall out the window and again I thought I was a goner, but I hit the ground and I bounce and I look up and my arm is really really long and I know, I know I shouldn't have been in your lab but Jesus Christ, Susan, feel my skin, feel it! It feels like plastic! He reaches his arm across the room and she feels his hand. SUSAN ... just like the mouse. O'BRIEN Mouse? What mouse? SUSAN My first organic-polymerization was a lab mouse. O'BRIEN What happened to it? SUSAN I don't know. He jerks his hand away. O'BRIEN You don't know? SUSAN It escaped from the lab before we could finish the experiment. O'BRIEN But you've polymerized single-celled bacteria and the fruit flies, I know you have. SUSAN Yes. O'BRIEN Then you must have at some point tried to reverse the procedure. She nods but it is not the kind of nod he was hoping for. O'BRIEN Oh no, no, no! You've got to be able to fix me! Please, Susan, tell me you can make me normal again! SUSAN Once the subject was polymerized we were unable to reassemble the original organic structure. His legs go wobbly. O'BRIEN Oh God, please! This can't be happening! I can't be plastic! A plastic man?! SUSAN Daniel! O'BRIEN I'm a plastic man! A plastic man! She slaps him; his chin flaps back and forth before snapping into place. SUSAN We don't have time for hysterics. O'BRIEN We don't? SUSAN What has happened to you is nothing compared to what is going to happen to Calumet City if we don't hurry. INT. KITCHEN She hands him a glass of water and drops several pills into his open palm. O'BRIEN What are these? SUSAN Mostly caffeine diuretics. Help you go to the bathroom. O'BRIEN Why? SUSAN The nanobot is still inside you. It's programmed to exit through the urinary tract. We need it as soon as possible, so swallow those. He stares at the gleaming plastic capsules. O'BRIEN Pills... you know how I feel about pills. SUSAN If you don't want to do it this way, I can remove it surgically. He gobbles them down. O'BRIEN Why do we need it? SUSAN The nanobot is the only thing that can stabilize the waste. O'BRIEN What waste? INT. ARGON LABS - DAY A BLAST of icy smoke COUGHS from the NOZZLE of a LIQUID NITROGEN PACK. Two men in their heavy insulated space suits work over the broken chamber where O'Brien was polymerized dousing the assembler waste with their liquid nitrogen hoses. The lab has become a winter wonderland. The lights have quit and the room is lit only by the green and yellow fluoro-glow sticks worn on the helmets of the workers. The assembler waste, covered in frost, bubbles and churns lava-like and the two men FIRE another burst of FROZEN GAS. FRANK TATER crosses to the door, his boots CRUNCHING ON the ICY FLOOR. INT. HALL Dr. Nigel Nebbleman, also wearing an insulated suit, waits for him. NEBBLEMAN Well, Frank? Frank lifts his helmet. FRANK I've never seen anything like it. We can't get a handle on it. INT. BASEMENT LAB It is in this poorly-lit basement that Dr. Bright does most of her work. SUSAN To put is simply, the nanobot inside you is a microscopic machine encoded with information like a strand of messenger R.N.A. that is programmed to synthesize your molecules with the polyisoprenes of the assembler fluid, rebuilding your entire organic system on a molecular level. O'BRIEN That was 'simple'? She sighs. SUSAN The nanobot combined your molecules with the plastic molecules in the white assembler fluid, so that on a molecular level you now have more in common with a Good Year tire than a human being. O'BRIEN Got it. SUSAN The problem is the by-product created by the process. O'BRIEN The waste. As they talk, we MOVE ALONG a stainless steel table where Susan is conducting a series of tests with the waste. These tests reveal the stages of molecular deterioration caused by the waste. SUSAN Only part of the molecule from the assembler fluid bonds to your molecules. The part left over is a highly charged unstable molecule we call a replicator. She puts on a pair of protective gloves and grabs one of the test cylinders. SUSAN The effect these replicators have on any matter, organic or inorganic, is similar to the molecular deterioration caused by nuclear radiation. The PRESSURIZED SEAL SIGHS open and she pours the contents out. SUSAN I've been measuring the levels of deterioration. As with radiation, the more exposure, the more damage it does. A white egg rolls into her gloved palm. SUSAN I dropped a single replicator in with this egg two days ago. She hurls the egg at the ground and quite naturally at this point, it bounces back. He catches it. It squishes between his fingers like a racquetball. He pulls at it. It stretches like Silly- Putty. O'BRIEN It's polymerized like me? She takes the egg back. SUSAN The replicators start off like assemblers, but the replicators never stabilize. O'BRIEN What happens? She opens another cylinder and pours it out. And oval- shaped wad of gray SLUDGE SPLATS onto the lid. O'BRIEN That was an egg? SUSAN Three days ago it was. O'BRIEN What do these replicators do to people? SUSAN With enough exposure, the same thing they do to everything else. He swallows hard, watching the egg-wad cling like snot from the lid, as she reseals the cylinder. EXT. MAIN GATE - DAY Spencer Lamm is on the scene which continues to escalate. SPENCER Here in Calumet City, a bomb has just dropped. Through anonymous sources, we have learned that Argon Labs may have been the victim of an attack by a radical environmentalist group. No such group has yet to claim responsibility but we are expecting confirmation of these rumors at a press conference scheduled this afternoon. INT. LAB Susan puts the cylinder of slime back into a large freezer unit filled with similar cylinders. O'BRIEN So right now there's little replicators spreading throughout Argon's lab? SUSAN That's right. O'BRIEN Isn't it already too late then? She shakes her head, opening a final cylinder. SUSAN There is a forty-eight hour period during which the waste can be stabilized. The contents slide into her hand. SUSAN The nanobot will start a chain reaction and transform the replicators through a double hydrogen bond, creating an ionic solid instead of a polymer. The egg seems fossilized, half way to becoming the wad of slime. She hands it to O'Brien. It is as fragile as a glass spider web. O'BRIEN Yet another miracle of modern science. She ignores the sarcasm laced in that comment. SUSAN I think while we're waiting, we had better run some basic diagnostics on you. O'BRIEN You're the doctor. EXT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S BROWNSTONE - DAY Across the street a dark Lincoln ominously glides to a stop. INT. SIM'S LINCOLN Sim settles back, watching the building for any sign of O'Brien. SIM Now we wait. Both he and Doby are licking ice cream cones. For a moment it is the only sound in the car. SIM Darn good cone. INT. BASEMENT O'Brien is sitting on a table, his shirt off, while Susan listens to his lungs with a stethoscope. SUSAN Breathe deep. The AIR RUSHES out. SUSAN Lungs sound fine. You didn't have any pre-existing physical conditions, did you? Allergies? Infections? O'BRIEN No, why? She removes the stethoscope and grabs the light scope. SUSAN My theory is that during the polymerization the nanobot should correct any malformed or defective molecules. Open. His mouth stretches impossibly wide for an amazing view of the glands at the back of his throat. Looks fine. SUSAN That theory is the reason Argon has been pushing me to test the second nanobot. He believes it's the only thing that will save him. She picks up a hypodermic needle. SUSAN I'd like to run a few sample blood tests to get an idea of how stable your condition is. O'Brien is beginning to bounce a bit, the caffeine pumping through his veins. O'BRIEN Okay. Sure. You're the doc. Tearing open a needle package, she inserts it into the plastic hypo. SUSAN Hold still. She fights to poke the needle through his resilient skin. When the sliver of metal pops through, tiny Superball bubbles of blood bounce into the cartridge like ping-pong balls in a bingo machine. SUSAN Amazing. She fills another cartridge when he begins to chatter, his rubbery teeth vibrating against each other. SUSAN Is something wrong? O'BRIEN No, no, I just feel wired! His whole body begins to twitch and ripple. SUSAN It's probably the caffeine. Suddenly he realizes he has to go to the bathroom. O'BRIEN Whoa! Whoa! I gotta go! Right now! She slips the needle out and he bolts off the table. SUSAN Wait! She grabs a glass beaker as his hand shoots back and snags it. INT. BATHROOM He bursts in, fumbles with the beaker and his zipper, then lets it rip. O'BRIEN Ahhh... His eyes close as we hear him filling the beaker. It is a STRANGE SOUND; more like a solid than a liquid. The sound bothers him and he looks down. What he sees terrifies him. INT. BASEMENT LAB Susan is looking into a microscope at the blood samples when he comes tearing down the stairs. O'BRIEN Susan! SUSAN What? What's wrong? He throws the beaker onto the table as if it were contagious. O'BRIEN Look at this! SUSAN What about it! He sticks a stirring rod into it and pulls it out. The contents are extremely viscous, like rubber cement. A wispy strand dangles from the end of the stick. O'BRIEN Just look at it! SUSAN The polymerization probably synthesized into a kind of methyl- cyanoacrylate. So what's wrong? He looks as if he is about to cry. O'BRIEN That's not biodegradable. She can't stop herself from laughing. O'BRIEN Oh yeah, real funny. Yuk-yuk. Let's laugh at everything a man believes in. SUSAN I'm sorry, Daniel, but you have to admit it's pretty ironic that you of all people would be the first man ever polymerized. It's got to mean something. O'BRIEN Means? Oh no. We won't know what it means until the end of the story and maybe then it won't seem quite as funny to you, Doctor Frankenstein! The smile disappears. SUSAN What's that supposed to mean? O'BRIEN Just giving credit where credit is due. SUSAN You have no one to blame but yourself. O'BRIEN Blame the victim. SUSAN Victim my ass! You stole my security key and used it to break into my lab to do who knows what kind of damage! Maybe this is the end of the story and you finally got what you deserved! O'BRIEN This is what I deserve for trying to protect the world from a madman and his mercenary physicists? SUSAN You're not protecting the world, you're obstructing progress! O'BRIEN I don't consider uncontrollable toxic waste progress! SUSAN And I'm sure you thought Columbus was going to sail off the edge of the world! O'BRIEN But lo and behold he found another world that progress could annihilate! SUSAN Come on, I don't see you living in a cave! O'BRIEN And I don't see you sunbathing at Chernobyl! She stops first, smiling, caught by an odd sense of deja vu. He smiles, feeling the same thing. SUSAN Just like old times. O'BRIEN Yeah. Old times. There is an awkward silence. O'BRIEN I want you to know that I really appreciate you helping me. SUSAN I'm glad you came to me for help. They aren't sure what to do. O'BRIEN I feel very emotional right now. A bit out of control. SUSAN Probably the caffeine. O'BRIEN Do you have something to bring me down? SUSAN No problem. INT. ARGON'S OFFICE JOHN JOPLIN, high-ranking EPA official, listens as Dr. Nebbleman tries to explain what has happened. Argon and Poppy are also in the office. NEBBLEMAN The nanobot is a molecular machine. It uses the assembler fluid to polymerize a whole system of carbon- based molecules as in, say, a human body. His eyes shift nervously to Argon who nods encouragingly. NEBBLEMAN Once it's complete, the waste from the assembler fluid is left destabilized with groups of highly charged attractors capable of bonding to any carbon molecule exposed for a long enough period. JOPLIN Hold on, son. Are you saying that they can bond to people? NEBBLEMAN With enough exposure, it appears they can bond to anything. JOPLIN Well, what will they do to people? Nebbleman glances nervously at Argon. NEBBLEMAN Well, at this time, I mean that is to say, it is difficult to project -- ARGON Look, John, nobody wants to find out what happens. That's why you're here. We need your help on this one and that's why that suitcase is here. Poppy opens it for him. The root of all evil. Stacks and stacks of it. JOPLIN Let me assure you, Dr. Argon, the E.P.A. is, as always, on your side. INT. SUSAN'S LIVING ROOM It is later. O'Brien is stretched out on the sofa in a valium fugue; his long supple limbs conform to the curves of the cushions, dangling over all sides. His head is on the floor, neck distending down from the arm rest. Mid-snore, he wakes up, yawning. From his upside down view, he sees the refrigerator. O'BRIEN ... food. INT. BASEMENT LAB Susan is looking through a microscope trying to find the nanobot. SUSAN Come on, where are you? INT. KITCHEN O'Brien opens the fridge. Rubber-necking, he looks inside while his body lies on the couch. O'BRIEN Hey, Susie! I'm hungry! INT. BASEMENT LAB She is still glued to the microscope. SUSAN Damn it! She pounds her fist against the lab table. O'BRIEN (O.S.) Uh oh. I remember that temper. SUSAN Daniel, I didn't hear you come down... She turns and finds his head almost floating, perched on his neck arching erectly up the stairs. O'BRIEN What's wrong? SUSAN The nanobot... it's not here... O'BRIEN It's still inside me? She nods watching his head bobbing cobra-like around her. SUSAN You'll have to start drinking fluids, lots of fluids. She reaches out and touches his neck. He smiles. SUSAN How far can you stretch? O'BRIEN I don't know. EXT. SUSAN'S BACKYARD - DAY Standing in the square of rich green grass, O'Brien looks up. He lifts his head and takes a deep breath, staring at his fingers spread against the blue expanse above him. SUSAN Go ahead. Reach as high as you can. From ABOVE his hand, we see O'Brien nod nervously and begin to reach -- His face, Dr. Bright, the square lawn, the house, one by one seem to FALL AWAY -- Spreading out under the hand until the ground seems like the sky did moments ago. INT. SIM'S LINCOLN Sim and Doby lean into the front windshield of the black Lincoln, watching O'Brien's arm telescope into the sky. SIM That's why I love the security biz. Just when you think you've seen everything... He whips out his cellular. Dials. EXT. SUSAN'S BACKYARD Dr. Bright stares, open-mouthed, at the arm-ribbon as it rises impossibly like a kite. She turns and sees O'Brien's body thinning, almost spooling out like a ball of yarn until his pants fall down to his ankles. He feels the draft and turns to see her looking at him. O'BRIEN Oops. He grabs his pants as his arm returns with a RUSHING sound that ends with a loud rubbery CLAP. O'BRIEN I'll end up back in jail for indecent exposure. Dr. Bright nods vaguely, already lost in thought. O'BRIEN What? She reaches out and feels his hair. INT. BASEMENT LAB A scalpel saws through several strands of O'Brien's hair. SUSAN That should do it. His hair is shorter and she drops the strands with the rest of it, into a Ziploc bag. SUSAN I'm going to go out for a while. I want to take the blood samples to a lab that has the equipment I need. O'BRIEN What did you want my hair for? SUSAN Something else I want to try. She puts the Ziploc bag in her briefcase and gets the blood samples. O'BRIEN I could go with you. SUSAN I think it would be better for me to go alone. I'm sure Sim is looking for you. Just sit tight. I'll bring you back a pizza. O'BRIEN No cheese. SUSAN I was hoping you were over that. Remember to keep drinking fluids. INT. LIMO Poppy, Argon and John Joplin are inside, as it pulls up outside Cook County courthouse. POPPY How do I look? She is dressed in a two-piece PVC business suit; smart yet slutty. Argon smiles. ARGON Positively paradoxical. INT. SUSAN'S LIVING ROOM O'Brien is stretched out on the couch watching "The Itchy and Scratchy Show" on the television. He is drinking a two liter bottle of Coke without stopping. His Adam's apple bobs like a cartoon as he swallows. We can hear the COKE FIZZING in his distending stomach. It swells like a water balloon. Finishing the bottle, he tosses it into a garbage bag filled with empties. He lets out a super hero style belch then settles back, chuckling at the cartoon. Itchy gets a frying pan to the face. On the table, there is a vase filled with dried flowers. He empties it and with the vase walks over to the hall mirror. Slowly he forces the vase over his head. When he yanks it off, his head keeps the shape. He starts to laugh and his face pops back. There is a series of GURGLING sounds from his STOMACH as he realizes he has to go. He bolts for the bathroom, his hand whipping out for the beaker. SAME - BIT LATER He's finished and he sets the beaker back where it was. He thinks and mumbles. O'BRIEN Technically, I don't even have to 'go' to the bathroom... We MOVE CLOSER and CLOSER to the beaker, THROUGH the glass INTO the golden fluid -- SHRINKING as we MOVE THROUGH the murk DOWN TO the MOLECULAR LEVEL where we SQUEEZE BETWEEN chains of elastomers -- And FIND the nanobot. INT. COOK COUNTY COURTHOUSE The press room is small, considering the sizable horde that is packed wall to wall, shoulder to shoulder, to see CEO Poppy Argon and the EPA deliver their statements. The WHITE NOISE of press CHATTER reaches a fevered pitch as the county sheriff leads Poppy Argon and several EPA officials in. John Joplin steps to the podium and the crowd noise dies. He leans into the bouquet of microphones, opening his statement. JOPLIN Good afternoon. The intent of... A MAN shouts from the crowd. MAN Who are you? JOPLIN Oh. I'm John Joplin, special investigator for the E.P.A. The intent of this press conference is twofold. Number one, to affirm that there has been a slight chemical spill at Argon Labs. Cleanup is already under way. FLASHBULBS BURST. JOPLIN And number two, that the E.P.A. in conjunction with members of Illinois County Sheriff Department and the F.B.I. have concluded that the spill was not accidental. The press begins to titter and Joplin raises his voice. JOPLIN Last night, Argon Labs was the target of what can only be described as a terrorist act. Another barrage of flashes. JOPLIN The single assailant sabotaged certain chemical storage units, creating the toxic spill. MAN Are there any suspects? JOPLIN The only thing I can say is that the perpetrator was photographed by Argon Security cameras. The rest of the details of the case, until a later time, will be kept in the highest confidentiality. Thank you. The press erupts: "Who was it? Was it a group? Have you identified him?" Joplin's eyebrows go up and he turns back to the podium. JOPLIN Oh, yeah. His name's Daniel O'Brien. The entourage begins to file out under a barrage of questions. Spencer Lamm fights to get his crew in front of Poppy. SPENCER Mrs. Argon, do you have anything to say to this O'Brien character? Poppy looks at the mic, several others surrounding it. POPPY All I can say is that when these radicals act outside the law, recklessly endangering the environment and human lives, it clearly demonstrates that they are the menace and we are the victims. INT. SUSAN'S LIVING ROOM The TELEVISION is ON, though "MUTED." We hear O'BRIEN GRUNTING and the sound of sweaty RUBBER RUBBING AGAINST RUBBER. The door opens and Susan enters, a pizza box in one hand, briefcase in the other. SUSAN Daniel? As she enters, she notices something is different about the furniture. There is a second, flesh-colored love seat. O'Brien's head suddenly pops up. O'BRIEN Surprise! His head rises from the top of the back. SUSAN That's pretty good. O'BRIEN Getting used to it. He starts to get up, becoming human, the round padded seat swelling into buttocks when he realizes he is naked. O'BRIEN Whoa! He pops back to a chair. SUSAN Don't worry, I got just what you need. A leg of the chair shoots out as he grabs his underwear from the pile of clothes. Susan sets the pizza down and opens her briefcase. SUSAN I have a friend at a textile lab. She helped me. The O'Brien chair pulls the underwear up over the front two legs, covering the cushion as he stands changing back to normal. SUSAN Ta-da! She holds up a tiny red suit that looks big enough for a G.I. Joe doll. O'BRIEN What's that? SUSAN It's a crime fighting costume, what do you think? It's underwear, so if you lose your clothes you'll still be decent. O'BRIEN That's going to fit me? SUSAN Like a glove. He pulls at it. It stretches easily. O'BRIEN You made this out of my hair? SUSAN Sort of. We used a process similar to the vulcanization of rubber and added bulk with a chain of chloroprene elastomers. He shakes his head. O'BRIEN I bet you still kill at Scrabble. She smiles. SUSAN Go on, try it on. Oh wait... She reaches back into her bag. SUSAN There was some extra, so I made these. In her palm are two little red boots. O'BRIEN Cute. As he crosses to the bathroom we see the television is again updating the crisis at Argon Labs. SUSAN Did you go? O'BRIEN On the counter. She grabs the sample, heading immediately for the basement, when the television catches her eye. INT. BATHROOM O'Brien crams one foot in and then the other. The material stretches miraculously. O'BRIEN Groovy. INT. SUSAN'S LIVING ROOM O'Brien bounds out of the bathroom. O'BRIEN 'In brightest day, nor darkest night. No evil shall escape my sight.' Susan is silent in front of the TV, the sound now ON. She is still holding the beaker. O'BRIEN What is it? He moves around her and sees his own face on the screen. It is the black and white photo of him about to sneeze. At the bottom of the screen is the title, "Voice of Dr. Warren Wertham." DR. WERTHAM (V.O.) ... an extremely volatile individual given to emotional outbursts. O'BRIEN Wertham? That's no good. SUSAN Who is he? O'BRIEN The head shrinker at the prison. DR. WERTHAM (V.O.) ... paranoid delusions and prone to hero fantasies all of which are characteristic of a form of infantile dementia. O'BRIEN Ha! What a crock. He couldn't be more wrong, could he? She says nothing. O'BRIEN I said, could he? The sneeze picture shrinks to an insert over the anchor woman, Tawney Towers' shoulder. TAWNEY (V.O.) Once again, at this time, authorities continue their statewide manhunt for the man believed responsible for the situation developing at Argon Labs. As reports come in, News Center 5 will continue to update you. Susan cuts it OFF. SUSAN Oh no. They're trying to blame you for the accident. That means they must not have been able to control the replicators. O'BRIEN I can't go back to jail. I gotta get out of here. SUSAN You're not going back to jail. All we need to do is find the nanobot. Once the meltdown is under control, then we deal with Argon -- Suddenly, the front door explodes open, the jamb easily splintering under Doby's girth. Doby and Sim barrel in, pistols pointing. SUSAN What in the hell? SIM Pipe down, brain lady! And you... The gun sweeps toward O'Brien. SIM I'd curb that monkey business, lessin' you want to find out if that rubber skin of yours is bulletproof. Now, keep your hands where I can see them. He notices the urine sample. SIM What's that? Susan doesn't miss a beat. SUSAN Lemonade. Do you want some? She offers him the beaker. Sim considers it. SIM No thanks. Back to business. SIM Put it down and let's go. Someone wants to talk to you. He waves them out the front door as she sets the beaker on the counter. EXT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S BROWNSTONE The black LIMO FIRES UP as the foursome approach. Sim opens the back door for O'Brien and Dr. Bright. SIM Get in. INT. LIMO In the artificial coolness, Daniel O'Brien sits with Icarus Argon, across from Poppy, Susan, and Dr. Nebbleman. In the rear window we see Sim's Lincoln follow. Poppy brandishes a chrome revolver from her handbag. Argon smiles in the shady light, makeup covering the more abrasive features of his spotty skin. ARGON My apologies to you both for the rather rude invitation but I had to see you. And, Dr. Bright, your house isn't... He motions to his blanket-draped legs. ARGON Wheelchair accessible. SUSAN Dr. Argon, I demand an explanation. O'BRIEN I can explain it. Attempted murder wasn't enough for him. He wants to add kidnapping to the charges. ARGON If you'd like, we can go straight to the authorities. I understand they are very interested in talking to you. O'Brien's only response is to grind his teeth in silence. ARGON We haven't been properly introduced, Mr. O'Brien. I am Icarus Argon. He offers his hand, taking O'Brien's. He closes his eyes, beginning to caress O'Brien's hand between the withered brown flesh of his own. ARGON Do you know how I made my first fortune? Poly vinyl chloride. P.V.C. It was almost thirty years ago when I first held a credit card in my hands. There was something about the way it felt. I told myself, paper was doomed. This was the future... He looks at O'Brien's hand, lets go. ARGON ... plastic. O'BRIEN Wow, that is one moving story. Take it easy on my heart strings. Now I really feel guilty complaining about you shooting me up with your poison. ARGON Poison? I'm surprised at you. You lack vision, Mr. O'Brien. O'BRIEN You're lacking a few things too: ethics, morals, common decency and, oh yeah, deodorant. Argon smiles. His coolness irritates O'Brien. ARGON Look at me, Mr. O'Brien. I once competed for Mr. Universe but now I am reduced to this, a withered shell. A prison of rot. He leans into O'Brien. ARGON People ask me what I did to myself. I answer, what didn't I do?! I treat me body like I treat the rest of the world, as a force to be controlled. Most people believe there is something sacred about the human body, about nature. They are the same fools who thought the world was flat. O'Brien smirks. ARGON The body is just another part of nature and ever since we gave up trees for central air, there has been nothing sacred about nature. Nature is the enemy, Mr. O'Brien, and science is our greatest weapon against her. O'BRIEN You egomaniacs make me laugh. Nature's going to bury you like she buries everyone else. Argon laughs. ARGON Not anymore, Mr. O'Brien. The nanobot has changed that. SUSAN If you think I would ever give you the nanobot after this, you are deluding yourself. ARGON You don't have to give it to us because Dr. Nebbleman can just cut it out of him. O'BRIEN Ha! Morons. It's not even in me anymore. Everyone reacts. ARGON What? Before O'Brien can say anything else, Susan slaps her hand over his mouth. NEBBLEMAN She could have given him something to stimulate his kidneys. ARGON Dr. Nebbleman, take care of them. Argon grabs the car phone while Nebbleman removes a loaded syringe from a black case. ARGON Mr. Sim I want you to return to Dr. Bright's. I believe she is hiding something of ours there. SUSAN No. We see the Lincoln turn off the highway. SUSAN Daniel, do something! With eye blurring speed, O'Brien's arm rockets out as he grabs for the needle. Nebbleman screams as O'Brien's hand molds over his own. Poppy wheels on O'Brien as Nebbleman falls, screaming, wrestling against his own hand. Before she can raise the gun, Dr. Bright lunges, grappling for control. The GUN FIRES wildly. ARGON No! The BULLET RICOCHETS around the cabin before embedding in the seat cushion in between Nebbleman's legs. O'Brien pushes the hypo plunger down, squirting the sedative in Nebbleman's face. Nebbleman screams. SUSAN Daniel, go! I'll be all right! Get the nanobot! He nods, yanking the door handles but they are locked. He glances quickly around the limo, then dives at the rear seat, body thinning, flattening into the crack where the seat meets the back -- Leaving Poppy clinging to his empty clothes, as he disappears from the cabin. Nebbleman can hardly catch his breath. NEBBLEMAN Where did he go? ARGON The trunk. As soon as the words pass Argon's reptilian lips, there is a CLICK and the TRUNK opens behind them. ARGON Ott, shake him! EXT. LIMO O'Brien stands and the limo begins to zig-zag hard on the open expressway. Argon smiles through the small rear window as O'Brien tries to keep his balance. O'BRIEN Here goes nothing. O'Brien throws an arm at a passing truck going in the opposite direction seizing hold of it -- Slinging himself like a rubber band -- Into the air, tucking his knees to his chest, bracing himself. He becomes -- A red comet, that crashes into an oncoming Cadillac caving in its hood and rebounding into the air soaring over a row of homes. A rumpled heap, he lands heavily in a plot of backyard bushes. O'BRIEN Ow. He stumbles to his feet, shaking away the cobwebs. O'BRIEN Damn. His teeth grit. Muscles flex. O'BRIEN'S POV ROCKETS INTO the air -- SHOOTING STRAIGHT UP, RACING FORWARD BOUNDING OVER power lines and rooftops. INT. LIMO Order has been somewhat restored. Poppy presses the barrel of her pistol into Dr. Bright's midsection. Dr. Nebbleman is still red-faced from the physical exertion. His glasses begin to fog and he cleans them with his kerchief. The PHONES RINGS. NEBBLEMAN Yes? SIM (V.O.) It's Sim. We're almost there. NEBBLEMAN Mr. Sim, watch out! O'Brien escaped and could be on his way! EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING BACKYARD Two small children are playing in their sandbox. Suddenly, a red foot stomps down between them, the thin leg stretching up into the sky. It rocks forward and pushes off and away. The two kids stare at each other blankly. EXT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S BROWNSTONE Sim and Doby head for the front door, Sim still on his cellular phone. SIM You want to tell me what I'm looking for? NEBBLEMAN I've only been invited to her house once, but I know there is a basement lab that she uses for private research. SIM (V.O.) Okay. SUSAN You were never invited to my house. NEBBLEMAN You're looking for a urine sample. SIM (V.O.) Bingo. EXT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S BROWNSTONE Sim stares toward the basement, when out of the corner of his eye he notices -- NEBBLEMAN (V.O.) The fluid should be murky yellow in color and extremely viscous. The beaker of lemonade. INT. CITY STREET O'Brien grabs the top of a building and he vaults over as though hopping a fence. INT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S BROWNSTONE Sim inspects the beaker as if he might taste it. He takes a whiff. SIM Wait a minute. This ain't no lemonade. INT. LIMO Susan glares at Nebbleman. SIM (V.O.) What's it smell like? NEBBLEMAN Smell? Uh, something like methylcyanoacrylate. SIM (V.O.) Like Crazy Glue? NEBBLEMAN Yes. That's it. He's got it. Oh God, he's got it! EXT. SUSAN BRIGHT'S BROWNSTONE O'Brien watches from behind a light post as Sim and Doby cross from Susan's walk to the Lincoln. He slinks down among the row of parked cars and edges out toward the street. The black Lincoln starts TOWARD us getting bigger, FILLING OUR VISION, then PASSES OVER -- And we see O'Brien clinging to the chassis like a rubbery Max Cady. EXT. CALUMET CITY - DAY The afternoon sun has started its descend over the industrial landscape. Tongues of exhaust flame lick up at the orange popsicle sky. EXT. MAIN GATE The black limousine eases through the gate against the swell of media. The steel garage DOOR RATTLES down like a modern portcullis. INT. ARGON LABS The barrel-shaped limo driver helps Argon into his wheelchair. POPPY Gently, Ott. Gently. ARGON Dr. Nebbleman, I want to know the moment the nanobot arrives. The instant, understand? NEBBLEMAN Of course, sir. SUSAN Dr. Argon, I know you want to use the nanobot on yourself, but you mustn't. The situation is critical right now. The replicators are growing exponentially. If we wait much longer it will be too late. You have to use the nanobot to stop the meltdown. ARGON Dr. Bright, I don't have to do anything. SUSAN But in another twenty-four hours the core meltdown will be beyond the stabilization period. There will be no way to stop it. ARGON To be brutally honest with you, Susan, as long as the nanobot does to me what it did to that idiot O'Brien, I don't give a rat's ass about what happens after that. The sincerity of his smile unnerves her. SUSAN You can't mean that. ARGON Come with me, Susan. I want to show you something. INT. ARGON'S OFFICE The elevators open and Poppy, Argon and Susan get out. ARGON Something to drink, Dr. Bright? SUSAN No, thank you. ARGON You'll forgive me but all the excitement has left me extremely parched. Poppy? Poppy gets him a Coca-Cola while Susan notices the statue of Argon. ARGON A monument to my past. I much prefer the future. Come. INT. CONSERVATORY The moist air envelops them as they enter. ARGON This is my garden. Few people have seen it because it means so much to me. I am hoping as a fellow scientist you can appreciate it. It is a botanical nightmare. Huge sealed tanks feature bizarre plant-life bred and genetically engineered indiscriminately, like a blind man pairing a sock drawer. Susan moves onto the yellow brick lane, a look of horror wrinkling her face. ARGON Gardener? A man in a green jump suit looks up. This is the GARDENER. He is never without his red sprayer tank, slung over his shoulder and is always wearing an old snouted gas mask. ARGON Would you excuse us? He disappears as the three start down the path. ARGON Every species, every organism is the only one of its kind, created through cross-breeding or chemical and radioactive mutation as well as genetic manipulation. Inside atmospherically controlled tanks, life exists where it should not. Translucent palmy ferns bask beneath a deadly drizzle of acid rain. Crystalline cacti flourish around the soft glow of a radioactive isotope. ARGON I spend more time here than anywhere else, nurturing them, treating them, because they all require very special care. He gazes into a sealed geranium at a single flower with petals the color of a dead fish. It is being fed drops of photophorescent paste from tubes that hang like IVs. ARGON Poppy calls them my children and I suppose that's how I feel. That I have given birth to all of them, and there is nothing as precious or as beautiful as one's own children. Poppy smiles at him as they stop in front of a tank where seamonkey-like creatures titter and play inside their toxic solarium. ARGON We will always love most that which we create. Don't you agree, Susan? SUSAN Does that mean Oppenheimer loved the atomic bomb? She can't believe that she just used an O'Brien line. ARGON More than he would ever admit. His child changed the world. What could make a parent more proud than that? INT. ARGON LABS The black Lincoln glides into the garage. The door closes behind them and the car eases into the parking place, the cement block in front of the car reads: D.T. Sim; Chief of Security. FROM UNDER the car we see the feet of Sim and Doby sweep by then disappear as the two men enter the lobby of Argon Tower. O'Brien drops to the ground from the Lincoln's drive shaft letting out a string of whispered expletives. INT. CONSERVATORY Argon slurps from the Coca-Cola, watching Susan. ARGON I brought you up here, Dr. Bright, because I want you to understand that we are on the path. The only difference is that you are walking with your head down, afraid to look up, to see where the path is going. SUSAN I suppose you are going to tell me where it is going. ARGON I ask you what is the purpose of science? What is the point of all our relentless exploration, investigation and experimentation? It is to understand a single physical phenomenon, or to understand them all? To cure one disease, or to cure every disease? If science is simply a means, what then is the end? His WHEELCHAIR CLICKS and HUMS toward her. ARGON Look up. Look above you, Susan, and tell me what you see. She looks up through the glass roof of the conservatory at the soot-stained sky. SUSAN Pollution? ARGON Do you know what I see? I see man making his own clouds. I see man coloring his own sky, and like this garden it is a site that makes my heart sing. He licks his lips. ARGON This is our world, Susan, and once you realize that, you will understand that the only place our path can end is on the throne of heaven. Science is the quest for divine perfection. SUSAN How do you know we're not heading in the wrong direction? ARGON I look behind us, I look to the past, to a world steeped in rot and decay. I think of the Acropolis in another century reduced to little more than dust. I see the faces of Rushmore eventually losing all distinction, and then I look at this... He cradles the plastic bottle of Coca-Cola. ARGON And I imagine it in a thousand years as perfectly shaped as the day it was made. He smiles at her. ARGON I find that thought exceptionally reassuring. Nebbleman burst through the glass doors. NEBBLEMAN They're here! They're here! We have the nanobot. ARGON Excellent. How long until the assembler tank is complete? Nebbleman's glasses steam up from the humidity as he stumbles toward them. NEBBLEMAN Dr. Makeo is working on it now, sir. I estimate at least another six hours. ARGON In the meantime, why don't you find something useful for Dr. Bright to do. SUSAN I swear to you, Argon, if you don't stop the meltdown that nanobot will be the last one I ever build. ARGON Susan, I sense you are having difficulty understanding the situation you are presently in. I ask that you keep in mind that I am ready to reduce an entire city to gelatin to get what I want. Susan notices the guards posted at the door. ARGON If I were you, I'd be careful about making promises that you will be unable to keep. His smile is as subtle as a knife point. INT. HALL GALLERY O'Brien sneaks ever so silently, edging toward the door at the opposite end. The walls are covered with an impressive collection by artists like Dali, Picasso and Bacon, picture-lit dramatically. As he nears the end, he suddenly hears voices moving toward him. He jumps back, searching for a place to hide. Two armed GUARDS enter. GUARD #1 Who are we supposed to be looking for? GUARD #2 Some guy in red underwear. They do not notice the bizarre red portrait hanging on the wall. GUARD #1 How are we supposed to know the color of his underwear? INT. HALL A guard is posted outside Susan's room. INT. SUSAN'S ROOM Scientific equipment is piled in a room that looks like a guest bedroom. Awkwardly filling the center of the room is a long industrial freezer unit. Nebbleman and Susan are alone. NEBBLEMAN These samples were taken from the surrounding area. All the pertinent information is on disk. Nebbleman lifts the lid, cold air puffing out, spilling over the freezer's edge. NEBBLEMAN What we need to know is expansion rates, how soon the replicators will reach the edge of the compound. Inside there are several normal-looking objects taken from the lab, including a metal stool, a microscope and several glass beakers. She stares at him numbly. SUSAN I don't believe this is happening... NEBBLEMAN Susan, Dr. Argon is giving you an opportunity here. SUSAN Opportunity? That snaps her up. SUSAN There's a guard outside my door! I'm a prisoner, Nigel! Do you understand that? NEBBLEMAN Dr. Argon would say we are all prisoners. SUSAN Argon is a lunatic! I can't believe I was stupid enough to believe I could control him. You heard what he said, Nigel. He doesn't care if all of Calumet City is turned to Jell-O. How can that not affect you? NEBBLEMAN Because I am a new man, Susan. I am a man of vision. Your problem, Susan, is that you're always looking down. If you'd just look up you'd see the big picture and in the big picture men of vision do not dwell on what might be lost. They focus on what can be gained. SUSAN Is that what Argon told you? NEBBLEMAN No! Well, not those exact words. SUSAN Nigel, can't you see he's using you? NEBBLEMAN Of course he is, but at least there isn't a security guard outside my door. SUSAN You're afraid of him. NEBBLEMAN Who isn't? Her eyes narrow. SUSAN Daniel O'Brien. INT. HALL O'Brien tip-toes past an intersecting hall when he hears -- SECURITY Hey... O'Brien freezes. SECURITY Hey, you! The security man is a hundred feet away, but before he can even get his gun out -- O'Brien's arm shoots down the hall, a huge hand reaching -- Covering the security man's entire head before he is able to scream. The hand is like a plastic bag over his head that he can't get free of until he finally blacks out. O'Brien lays him down gently. His arm snaps back and he tip-toes away. INT. SUSAN'S ROOM Nebbleman smirks, cleaning his glasses. NEBBLEMAN I'm not interested in being a hero, Susan. I'm not interested in self- delusion and romantic sentiment. He puts his glasses back on. NEBBLEMAN I'm a scientist. I have lived my whole life by the diagnostic application of fact and the fact is, Argon is going to get whatever he wants, so if I were you, I'd give it to him. SUSAN You mean the designs for the nanobot? You think after this I'm going to give them to him? NEBBLEMAN I think that either you're going to give them to him or he's going to make you give them to him. SUSAN Make me? How? You think he's going to torture me? Nebbleman shrugs. NEBBLEMAN I would. He smiles and that makes it worse. SUSAN Get out. Get out now before I hurt you. Nebbleman stammers before scurrying for the door. INT. HALL O'Brien is searching different rooms, stuffing his head between door and jamb, calling, "Susan," in a hushed voice. The elevator at the end of the hall opens and he hears the ELECTRIC WHINE of Argon's WHEELCHAIR together with the TAP of Poppy's STILETTO HEELS. He presses himself flat against the nearest door. POPPY Do you think she will give us the designs? ARGON Eventually. These things are always a matter of leverage. POPPY And you think O'Brien is that leverage? ARGON That remains to be seen. O'Brien peeks out and sees that they are heading straight at him. POPPY And you still believe he's going to come here? ARGON Based on what we know of him, that would seem inevitable. POPPY Do you think she loves him? ARGON She must feel something for him. After all, she and I did create him. It seems they are about to see him but when they reach the double doors, O'Brien is gone. She throws open the door and he follows her into -- INT. POPPY'S BEDROOM Everything is red; PVC gleaming like patent leather. POPPY Do you think she loves him like I love you? It is a woman's question and it annoys him. ARGON Poppy, are you in one of your moods again? POPPY No, Icky, this is real. She closes the doors behind them. POPPY I've been thinking a lot since this all started. Thinking about us. Uninterested in the direction of the conversation, Argon notices that there are two identical ottomans. POPPY You know how I feel about you. You know how much I need you. How much I trust you. I would do anything for you. ARGON Why are there two ottomans? POPPY Icarus, please! This is important! She sees him staring at the ottoman and steps up onto it, heels gouging into the padding. The OTTOMAN GURGLES. POPPY Look at me, Icarus! Look at my body. I've done everything, changed anything you asked me to. 'We will always love most that which we create.' Is that still true? ARGON Yes. Yes, of course it is. POPPY Then you still love me? ARGON Poppy, please, just tell me what you want. She steps down and kneels close to the wheelchair. POPPY I want to know what will happen if the nanobot works on you become like O'Brien, a plastic man. What will happen to me? He realizes what she is asking. ARGON You want to be polymerized? Timidly, she looks up into his eyes. POPPY Plastic means forever, doesn't it? His smile is like a razor-cut, lips slowly widening. ARGON That it does, my dear. That it does. She smiles until he pulls away and begins wheeling out. POPPY Icarus? ARGON I promise, my dear, I will give the matter some consideration. POPPY Consideration? ARGON If you honestly trust me, then you'll have to trust me. He closes the door. Angry, she turns away looking for something to hit. She picks up a hairbrush instead and begins violently brushing her hair in the vanity mirror. Behind her, in the mirror, we see the ottoman scurry mouse-like to the closest door. INT. BATHROOM O'Brien stands up in agony, holding his back where her heels dug in. A CLATTERING noise draws him to the door. He peeks out just as she pulls down the zipper on her dress. Shrugging out of the sleeves, she walks toward the bathroom. O'Brien searches the room; where the bedroom was red, the bathroom is completely white. There is nowhere to hide except -- The toilet. He climbs in as the door opens. She drops her dress and kicks off her shoes. As she moves to the tub, O'Brien's hand reaches up and pulls the flush. She hears the TOILET FLUSH, looks at it, wiggles the handle. INT. SUSAN'S ROOM Susan is moving around the room, thinking. In her gloved hands is the glass beaker which she is wringing nervously, wadding, crinkling, and pulling at it so intensely it sounds like popping bubble wrap. She looks at the windows and at the black steel bars outside. We RISE ABOVE her, MOVING TOWARD the chandelier, TOWARD the single light bulb that is apparently burned out. Until we can SEE INTO the grayish glass and FIND the tip of the fiber optic cable. INT. SECURITY BOOTH - CLOSE ON MONITOR as if looking through a window down into Susan's room. SIM (O.S.) Ubi... Ubiqu... Ubiqu... WIDER ANGLE Sim is reading from a dictionary. SIM Ubiquitous. Present, or seeming to be present, everywhere at the same time; omnipresent. He looks up. SIM I like that. INT. PIPES O'Brien zips through the intersecting, elbowing maze of pipes. INT. BATHROOM Another toilet seat peeks open. The room is empty. O'Brien climbs out. He grabs a towel, drying himself as he quietly cracks open the door. When he sees Susan at the desk he can't believe his luck. O'BRIEN Susan! She nearly jumps out of her skin. SUSAN Daniel! They rush to each other's arms. SUSAN I don't believe it. You're here! Oh thank God. O'BRIEN You didn't think I could just leave you? SUSAN I didn't know what was going to happen. I was just so worried something was going to happen to you. O'BRIEN What could happen? I'm the plastic man, remember? She remembers Argon. SUSAN Oh no! Argon! We have to stop him before he uses the nanobot! We have to get the nanobot! O'BRIEN Where is it? SUSAN Argon's private lab. O'BRIEN Let's go. They start for the door when Susan whispers. SUSAN Wait. There's a guard. O'Brien almost laughs. O'BRIEN He'll never know what hit him. He grabs the handle and throws open the door. Susan can't see what he sees, but she knows by his reaction, it's not good. SIM Savior-faire is everywhere. O'Brien backs up into the room, pushed by a very large gun. SIM I am Mr. Ubiquitous, ain't I O'Brien? Doby enters behind Sim with several heavily-armed guards. SIM You know what ubiquitous means, don't you? It means here we go again. Sim laughs very loudly as Argon wheels in, Poppy at his side. ARGON Welcome to my home, Mr. O'Brien. As you can see we've been expecting you. Sim laughs again. O'BRIEN This is wonderfully accommodating of you all. Now I won't have to come looking for you. SIM You were looking for us? O'BRIEN Yeah, I have something I've been meaning to give you. SIM Yeah, and what might that be? O'BRIEN An ass-beating. Would you like yours first, Mr. Sim? Sim cocks his gun and now O'Brien smiles. SIM Just try it! Come on! Do something. Move. Anything. Anything! Just twitch, blink, I dare you! I double dare you! O'Brien becomes completely rigid, frozen like a smiling mannequin. Sim doesn't know what to do. He looks around the room when -- O'Brien's tongue lashes out like a frog's, and snatches the gun. SIM That's disgusting. O'Brien levels the gun at Argon and everyone reacts. O'BRIEN I should kill you right now for what you did to me! ARGON Maybe you should, but you can't. Susan screams as Doby grabs her and pins a gun to her head. SUSAN Run, Daniel! Get out of here! O'BRIEN I'm not leaving without you, Susan! ARGON You don't have to leave, Mr. O'Brien. We've prepared a wonderful room for you. I think you'll find it quite comfortable, so comfortable, in fact, I doubt you'll ever want to leave. As he speaks they all pull out white oxygen masks. ARGON Gardener! The Gardener appears, sprayer in hand and rushes straight at O'Brien, aiming the nozzle into his face. O'Brien tries to back away, to find air but the nozzle is everywhere pumping a mist that envelops both of them. Coughing, choking, unable to breathe, the gas begins to take effect. O'Brien collapses, the gas-masked figure standing over the soft rubbery head. SUSAN Nooo! Poppy and Argon exchange quiet smiles. SUSAN What are you going to do to him? ARGON Do? Well, I suppose that depends on you. She knows what he wants and her head drops. INT. CONSERVATORY The Gardener adjusts several gas tank valves and we FOLLOW the feed lines UP TO the top where the humidifier blower breathes into the sealed cell. The gasses drift down to the bottom where we see the supple red puddle of O'Brien. Floating on the edge of consciousness, O'Brien lifts his head. Outside the curved Plexiglas he sees warped faces staring at him. O'BRIEN ... Susa... His eyes roll and his head pitches forwar