PLANET OF THE APES Written by Sam Hamm FADE IN: 1. EXT. STARFIELD - NIGHT A sprinkling of STARS against the black backdrop of endless space. We TILT DOWN - down, through nothingness and more nothingness, until - BLAZING COLORS - reds, blues, sizzling whites - explode across the sky. A SECOND BURST erupts - then a THIRD - and we continue to TILT DOWN until a familiar sight dominates the screen: 2. THE STATUE OF LIBERTY We're not in outer space after all - just New York City. Another round of FIREWORKS lights up the sky, and off in the distance we hear CHEERING. SUPER TITLE: 4 JULY 1998 3. EXT. TIMES SOUARE - NIGHT Packed streets; the whole city seems to have turned out for the show. Drunken revelers, tourists, hookers and hustlers, cops on horseback - greeting each new pyrotechnic display with WHOOPS of giddy hilarity. 4. EXT. BROOKLYN HEIGHTS - THE PROMENADE - NIGHT Manhattan just across the harbor, Lady Liberty to the south. Young COUPLES in love, FAMILIES with kids - they're all lined up six deep at the Promenade railing, CLAPPING AND CHEERING. 5. >EXT. ROOFTOP - SPANISH HARLEM - NIGHT A dozen or so TEENAGE KIDS up on the roof, necking, smoking, drinking beers, playing loud MUSIC - all GRINNING at the fireworks. One of them LOOKS UPWARD at the sound of a far-off WHISTLING . . .Suddenly, his face is BATHED in RED LIGHT. A SCREAMING comes across the sky. A FIREBALL streaks down from above . . .. . . and it stems to be coming DIRECTLY TOWARD HIM! With a yelp of fear, he dives to the tar-and-gravel surface of the roof. The other kids turn, SEE WHATS COMING, and join him there. 2. 6. EXT. PROMENADE - THAT MOMENT PANIC in the crowd as they see the fireball approaching. It looks as though it's going to slam smack into Manhattan. 7. EXT. TIMES SOUARE - THAT MOMENT CHAOS. PANDEMONIUM. Times Square turns the color of MOLTEN LAVA as the fireball streaks past overhead, so close it almost seems you could reach up and touch it. The cheers have given way to hysteria ... 8. EXT. PROMENADE - THAT MOMENT ALL SPECTATORS have now abandoned the Promenade. The sky's ablaze with light. It's high noon - at midnight. The FIREBALL slices downward from the clouds, clearing the Battery, nearly shaving the top story off the World Trade Center. It slaps into the harbor with the percussive force of an exploding bomb. 9. EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT THE KIDS ON THE ROOF, slackjawed at the light show. A beat - then they begin WHOOPING and APPLAUDING WILDLY. 10. EXT. NEW YORK HARBOR - NIGHT A vast, red-hot cloud of SCALDING STEAM rising from the water . . . and spreading across the night sky until the cityscape of Manhattan is completely obscured behind it. FADE THROUGH TO: 11. EXT. NEW YORK HARBOR - DAY The harbor is congested with ships. COAST GUARD CUTTERS; two oceanographic RESEARCH VESSELS; a CONTAINER SHIP, half again the size of the Exxon Valdez; and a FLOATING CRANE. MILITARY HELICOP- TERS are circling lazily above it all. The decks of the various vessels are swarming with people - not just crewmen, but military observers, government bureaucrats, civilians - and all eyes are on the CRANE as the chain begins to rise. A CHARRED, BLACK MASS breaks the surface of the water. 3. It's no meteorite. It's a MACHINE - of inexplicably baroque design, with ornate curlicues, filigree, nodules and modules protruding in all directions. It looks not unlike a pair of Sherman tanks joined together, Siamese-twin style, at the cannon turrets. Or a flying Rorschach blot. 12. EXT. FISHING BOAT - THAT MOMENT - DAY The disgruntled CAPTAIN of a ramshackle fishing boat is watching the action with binoculars. His crew can't set sail while the harbor's blocked, and they've already lost half a day's catch. CAPTAIN That's a weather satellite? One skeptical crewman is reading the Post. The page-one banner head-line screams: "WEATHER SATELLITE NEARLY FLATTENS MANHATTAN" FISHERMAN #1 They don't close off the whole harbor for no damn weather satellite. 13. EXT. HARBOR - ON FLOATING CRANE The crane hoists its cargo high into the air and PIVOTS - swinging the strange alien craft into position over the deck of the CONTAINER SHIP. 14. INT. HOLD - CONTAINER SKIP - THAT MOMENT TECHNICIANS in airtight SAFE SUITS are preparing a great plasticene SHROUD. Once the craft has been lowered into the ship, the shroud will be sealed around it, forming a sterile tent. No one knows what they'll find inside the craft - but they don't want it getting out prematurely. 15. EXT. DECK - CONTAINER SHIP - THAT MOMENT A twelve-foot wall of SCAFFOLDING has been erected around the hold of the ship. MORE SCIENTIFIC GEAR is mounted on it: an X-ray machine, an ultrasound unit, a heat-sensing device, COAST GUARDSMEN clamber up the scaffolding like monkeys, helping the CRANE OPERATOR guide the craft into the hold. TECHNICIANS stare at their various monitors and telemetric readouts. The ULTRASOUND OPERATOR shouts into the hold . . . 4. ULTRASOUND MAN IT'S HOLLOW. IT'S HOLLOW. Jesus . . . THERE'S SOMETHING MOVING IN THERE! A thermal printer spits out a hard copy of the ultrasound screen. A FUZZY, MANLIKE SILHOUETE is plainly visible within the craft. ULTRASOUND MAN Oh man, Herb - this looks like a - An EXPLOSION interrupts him. A HATCH has BLOWN OPEN just beneath the left wing - and now, dangling from its chain, the whole craft begins to ROTATE. Whatever's inside is about to come out. Several GUARDSMEN dive from the scaffolding to the deck. Others are too scared to move. And a couple reach instinctively for their SIDEARMS . . . VOICES FROM HOLD [o.s.] Don't shoot! DON'T SHOOT!! 16. INT. CRAFT - THAT MOMENT A POV shot from WITHIN the craft - looking THROUGH the open hatch at the frenzy outside. As the craft turns, a GUARDSMAN comes into view - clinging to the scaffolding, WIDE-EYED WITH HORROR. In the foreground, a WHITE-GLOVED HAND rises suddenly into frame . . . and an inhuman voice croaks out something that sounds like: VOICE Plleeeeeeeezzz . . . GUARDSMAN I JESUS! WHATEVER HE SEES drives him into a frenzy. He STARTS SHOOTING. 17. EXT. DECK - OUTSIDE THE CRAFT - ON GUARDSMEN A blur of motion. The PASSENGER of the craft, BLEEDING, pitches forward through the open hatch and hangs there, half in, half out. A SECOND GUARDSMAN lunges at the guy with the gun - 5. GUARDSMAN I YOU IDIOT! WHAT ARE YOU - They grapple. The CRAFT, dangling in midair, ROTATES AROUND - and the OPEN HATCH DOOR knocks both GUARDSMAN to the deck! Screaming and confusion all around. The CRANE OPERATOR swings the pod hard left, trying to avoid any further injuries. Like a big wrecking ball, the craft slams into the scaffolding, causing it to COLLAPSE. The CRANE OPERATOR tries to HOIST the pod away from the damage. As it rises, we ZERO IN on the dead PASSENGER dangling out of the open hatch. A TRICKLE OF BLOOD runs down the side of the craft . . . . . . and POOLS on the deck . . . where it SEETHES and CHURNS like a living, tumorous organism . . . . . . until a small quantity of BUBBLING PINK ORGANIC SLOP arises from the puddle of blood, and begins to CRAWL AWAY across the deck!! BOOTS sprint past, SPLATTERING the moist pink crawling goo into several discrete globules. But the globules REGROUP, as if driven by some primordial homing instinct, into a single pulsating mass. The undulating blob squirts out a tendril and DRAGS ITSELF across the deck -- over the railing -- INTO THE HARBOR. 18. EXT. FISHING BOAT -DAY The CAPTAIN lowers his binoculars and snorts in disgust. CAPTAIN Your tax dollars at work. - Stow the goddam nets. Let's go home. He takes a last bite of his sandwich, chucks what's left overboard. A SEAGULL spots breakfast and swoops toward the captain's leftovers. It snags a hunk of meat and lets out a startled SQUAWK. The bird flaps its wings furiously, trying to take flight -- -- but a LONG PINK TENDRIL pulls it downward. The keening gull VANISHES beneath the waves as we CUT TO: 6. 19. INT. HOSPITAL - BIRTHING CENTER - DAY An enormously PREGNANT WOMAN is drinking from a water fountain in the hallway of a modern MATERNITY WARD. SUPER TITLE: 12 APRIL 1999 NINE MONTHS LATER She lets out a little SQUEAK. A helpful NURSE rushes to her side. PREGNANT WOMAN I think I felt another contraction! SPLATTERING NOISES on the tiles. Her water's broken. She looks down, lets out a little exclamation of embarrassment . . . NURSE Don't worry, well take care of that. The birthing room is all ready for you. The PREGNANT WOMAN glances down the hallway, where the corridors intersect. Several DOCTORS appear to be in a big hurry. A guy in a suit uses a KEY to summon the FREIGHT ELEVATOR. The elevator opens - and the DOCTORS push what looks like a CHROME SARCOPHAGUS onboard. It's three feet long. On a rolling cart. With a refrigeration unit beneath it ... PREGNANT WOMAN What in the world is that? NURSE Oh, it's . . . it's for preemies. (swiftly turning her around) This way. A SCREAM echoes in the hospital corridors. Not the scream of a woman in labor - this one's a MAN. The PREGNANT WOMAN glances back over her shoulder - just in time to see an hysterical FATHER at the end of the corridor, with ORDERLIES and DOCTORS swarming around, trying to calm him dawn. NURSE This way. Please. She steers the pregnant mom down the hall, away from the commotion. 7. 20. EXT. HOSPITAL- ROOFTOP A HELICOPTER touches down on the rooftop helipad, and a group of SPECIALISTS from the Centers from Disease Control in Atlanta debark. They carry themselves with the natural authority of young hotshots - the best and brightest in their field. Leader of the pack is DR. SUSAN LANDIS, a handsome woman in her early thirties, with a face full of quick, ironic intelligence, insatiable curiosity, boundless good humor. When she's on the job, though, she takes on a crisp, no-nonsense, almost military demeanor - and just now, she is well and truly on the job. She hits the tarmac moving . . . DR.ENGEL Susan! Thanks for coming so quickly - DR. ENGEL is 64, heavyset, distinguished-looking. He's at the head of a phalanx of doctors and hospital administrators. She gives him a warm smile as the two groups head en masse for the rooftop elevator. SUSAN For you? Black plague couldn't keep me away. - What's the latest? Holding at five? ENGEL It was five yesterday, Susan. Today it's - (grimly) I'll let you see for yourself. 21. INT. HOSPITAL - OBSERVATION ROOM - DAY The whole gang's scrubbed down and changed into surgical gear. They're looking through a glass window into a maternity ward lined with CRIBS. The room is sealed - and the obstetric NURSES are wearing SAFE SUITS. ENGEL Now get ready for this. I don't think any of you have ever seen anything like it . . . ENGEL gestures to a NURSE on the other side of the glass. She gingerly lifts an infant from its crib . . . pulls the swaddling back from its face . . . Several of the CDC hotshots jump back in shock. The newborn infant is leathery, wrinkled, with liver spots and rotting yellow teeth. It weighs nine pounds. It looks like an EIGHTY-YEAR-OLD MAN. 8. SUSAN I've seen it. Hutchinson-Gilford . . . CDC HOTSHOT Neonatal progeria, right? Accelerated aging in the womb. SUSAN Kids are usually dead by the time they're ten. ENGEL No, Susan, no. If it was Hutchinson-Gilford I wouldn't have called you up from Atlanta. (gesturing to the NURSE) We've got three neonates here, all born today. This one was 3 PM - just over an hour ago. The NURSE leans over a crib, unwraps a baby. It has a full head of oily hair - the acne-covered face of an adolescent. ENGEL This one was noon. Same routine. Baby #2 looks like a sallow, balding, middle-aged man. ENGEL And this one was 7:45 AM . . . Before the NURSE can pull back the blankets a TINY, CLAWLIKE HAND shoots out from the third crib - waving with knobby, arthritic fingers. SUSAN stares compassionately at the ancient, wizened infant. She knows it's pointless, but she can't stop herself from waving back. ENGEL When they're born they look normal. Within twelve hours . . . they're dead of old age. The CDC crew are already BUZZING among themselves. SUSAN - You've had five of these?? ENGEL I told you, Susan. It was five yesterday. ENGEL raps on another observation window - this one curtained off. 9. Inside, a nurse draws the curtain back, allowing SUSAN to see . . . . . . an entire ROOMFUL of afflicted babies, THIRTY OR FORTY OF THEM, in various stages of disintegration. ALL HEADS TURN at a new round of SHRIEKS and WAILING from anguished parents in the hallway. The CDC crew falls deadly silent - ashen-faced. It's as if they've just seen the end of the human race. ENGEL We haven't had a normal birth today. 22. INT HOSPITAL - CONFERENCE ROOM It's been commandeered by the CDC high command, who have taken over every available phone jack to plug their laptops into the net. There are several open pizza boxes on the central table. ENGEL - and we don't know what to do with the parents. You heard what the maternity ward is like. It's bedlam. SUSAN Forget about containing it. it'll be in all the papers by morning. A CDC WORKER, ALBERT, rushes up to SUSAN with a printout. ALBERT Here's what we've got. Eight in Chicago; eleven in Pittsburgh; four in our beloved home town of Atlanta . . . SUSAN Airline hubs. ALBERT - and Jersey is crawling with 'em. SUSAN Let's hope for a contact vector. If it's airborne we're knee-deep in shit creek. 10. ENGEL it's incomprehensible. Hutchinson-Gilford's a spontaneous mutation. How could it be infectious? SUSAN My guess is it's not. If you isolated the mutagen you could reproduce it - transfect the population by virus. Catch the virus, and the mutagen kicks in . . . ENGEL But that would mean somebody had to - SUSAN Tailor it, yeah. The big question is when. If this stuff's had nine months to spread . . . SUSAN looks up at the sound of a choked SOB from across the table. In the midst of all the frantic activity, one of the CDC team, a young woman named DONNA, has totally lost it. She sits frozen over her laptop screen, face buried in both hands. SUSAN goes over and lays a consoling hand on her shoulder. SUSAN Take a break, Donna. Grab a catnap. We'll get by without you for an hour. DONNA No, no, I'm fine. I'll- Just that quickly, her hands are racing over the keyboard again. SUSAN Whoa. That's no suggestion, that's an order. DONNA looks up at her hollow-eyed, TEARS trickling down her cheeks. DONNA Susan, I'm two months pregnant. There's nothing SUSAN can say. Stunned, she sits down beside her colleague. The two of them embrace. 11. 23. INT. CDC - FOUR MONTHS LATER - DAY SUSAN and ALBERT at an electron microscope. The grainy image from the microscope appears on a large overhead MONITOR. There's a tiny tendriled PINK ORGANISM floating among the red and white corpuscles . . . SUSAN That's our vector. ALBERT Whose blood are we looking at? SUSAN Yours. It doesn't like you. You're not going to get pregnant. It's just loitering around with nothing to do. She nicks a switch. The image on the monitor changes. LOTS OF little pink critters, occasionally SHOOTING OUT pseudopods at passing corpuscles - sometimes actually INGESTING them. SUSAN This is me. It's interested. No action yet, but definite possibilities. And this . . . Flick - another new image. Pink blobs everywhere, FEASTING. ALBERT Jesus, it's an orgy! She gives him a tight little cockeyed smile ... SUSAN Six months pregnant. Work to do. Cells to invade. DNA to ruin . . . ALBERT What is it? It's not a virus, exactly. It - SUSAN Albert, I don't have a bleeding clue what it is. There's nothing like it on the books. All I know is, it's awfully good at what it does. She turns off the monitor. They sit there in glum silence. 12. ALBERT That last sample. Was that Donna? SUSAN nods wearily. ALBERT She's still going to carry the baby to term? SUSAN I guess she's hoping for a breakthrough. I guess she's counting on us to . . . The odds against them are too enormous. She can't even say the words. 24. INT. TELEVISION STUDIO - NIGHT A remote linkup site for ABC Nightline. A CAMERA CREW bustles around a bank of MONITORS on which we see live footage of a) a smug REVEREND; b) a State Dept. TERRORJSM EXPERT; and c) TED KOPPEL, at his desk in foreground, the other two composited behind him. REVEREND [an monitor] The year 2000 is upon us, Ted. We're seeing the fulfillment of biblical prophecy. There's no question the last days are at hand. TERRORISM EXPERT [on monitor] It's a simple failure of policy. We've known for years that the international terror network is heavily invested in biological weapons - The THIRD GUEST is SUSAN, taping live right here in the linkup studio, and she's listened to this stuff long enough. SUSAN No. No. This is not something you can buy from your neighborhood arms broker. This is generations beyond anything we can do - TERRORISM EXPERT Yet somebody did it. If it didn't come out of our labs, then - REVEREND All things are possible with God. 13. SUSAN and the EXPERT roll their eyes, let out snorts of frustration. The REVEREND sits there smiling, Buddha-like in his serenity. KOPPEL Reverend, exactly what are you getting at? REVEREND As a nation, Ted, we've denied the sanctity of human life; we've put our trust in scientists, like the young lady here, instead of in God; and now with this horrible plague our own sins are finally coming back to - SUSAN Oh, come on, Reverend. Is it biblical prophecy or is it my fault? Let's make up our minds. TERRORISM EXPERT We'd all love to hear your explanation. SUSAN [on TV] It's not divine retribution. It's not Islamic fundamentalists. I know this sounds absurd, I know it's ludicrous, but it's the only expla- nation that makes sense. (long pause) This plague did not originate on earth. We've been invaded. 25. INT. SUSAN'S APARTMENT - LATER - NIGHT She opens the door, slams it shut behind her, and lets out a GASP. The lights are on. There's a STRANGE MAN in her favorite reading chair, over by the wall of books. He's fortyish, Jamaican, perpetually bemused. He's smoking a pipe. He's made himself very much at home. SUSAN Who are you? DODGE Dr. Landis? He jumps to his feet, shows her what he's been reading. It's a textbook on viruses. The author is SUSAN herself. 14. DODGE I was just wondering why they don't put the author's photo on textbooks. They'd sell a lot more copies in your case. (extending a hand) Raymond Dodge. I watched you on Nightline. You were terrific. SUSAN ignores his hand. She marches to the phone, dials 911. SUSAN Found the popcorn okay, I hope? (into the phone) Hello, I'd like to report a - She stops in mid-sentence - stares at a pair of SUITCASES standing near the door. Her suitcases. She lowers the phone, GAPES at DODGE. DODGE Our plane's leaving in forty minutes. SUSAN Plane? DODGE I packed a couple of weeks' worth. If you need mare things, we can have them sent. SUSAN You've been in all my stuff? What is this? I don't even know who you are! DODGE (patiently) I'm Raymond Dodge, and I'm here on behalf of Dr. Troy -- SUSAN Dr. Troy? Alexander Troy? DODGE From the JPL. You know him? SUSAN I get PBS. 15. DODGE He wants you to come to New Mexico tonight. He has some . . . information that might be of interest to you. SUSAN About the plague? (off DODGE's nod) Does he know about telephones? SUSAN storms to the front door and opens it to usher DODGE out. SUSAN You know, Mr. Dodge, I'd like to help you out, but the work I'm doing here is actually kind of important. I do appreciate the invitation . . . Wincing, DODGE looks past her into the hallway. SUSAN turns abruptly - and finds herself staring at two FEDS in dark suits and shiny shoes, posted on the landing outside her apartment door. DODGE Well, that's just it, Dr. Landis. It's not exactly what you'd call an invitation. DODGE points to the suitcases. The FEDS barge in and grab one apiece. SUSAN is too bewildered to protest. CUT TO: 26. EXT. DESERT - AIR FORCE BASE - DAY Okay, call it Roswell - a top-secret underground facility hidden in the New Mexico desert. The only signs of it on the surface are a series of PLANE HANGARS carved out of a semicircular CLIFF WALL. A MILITARY HELICOPTER slices through the cloudless skies and descends toward a vast MESA at the foot of the cliffs. Great horizontal PANELS set into the door of the plateau slide back to admit it. 27. ~T. HELICOPTER~PAV A USAF PILOT up front; in the rear are SUSAN and DODGE. She's looking about in amazement as the helicopter descends past SENTRY TOWERS and great swiveling ANTI-AIRCRAFT GUNS mounted in the sheer cliff walls. 16. DODGE looks bored. He's smoking his pipe, paging through a sheaf of computer printouts. For him it's just another commuter flight. 28. RVT. UNDERGROUND COMPLEX - DAY NORAD would be green with envy. everywhere you turn, there's a research team working at a bank of fantastically expensive equipment. It's the sort of place James Bond villains hang out, when they're plotting to overthrow the world. A glass ELEVATOR CAPSULE disgorges SUSAN and DODGE. SUSAN You think you know where the plague originated? DODGE I'll let Troy tell you about it. (to a TECHNICIAN) Dino! Is Troy up yet? DINO You're just in time for his wake-up call. SUSAN (checking her watch) Dr. Troy believes in getting his beauty sleep. DODGE chuckles enigmatically. He leads SUSAN to a nearby lab area, where DINO is rotating a GLASS-AND-CHROME SARCOPHAGUS, seven feet long and REFRIGERATED, into an upright position. SUSAN almost GASPS as the LID pops open. A hiss of FROSTY AIR comes gushing out . . . DR. ALEXANDER TROY climbs slowly out of the cryo-unit and stretches. He's stiff and extremely cold. He's also STARK NAKED. TROY How long? TECHNICIAN 36 hours. How do you feel? TROY Frosty. Any dermal damage? How do I look? 17. SUSAN You look smaller on TV. TROY looks up, sees SUSAN, realizes he's at a social disadvantage. DINO offers him a bathrobe. He pulls it on hurriedly . . . DODGE We can usually talk him into wearing pants. - Susan Landis? Alexander Troy. TROY Dr. Landis! Your great admirer. I'm glad you could come on such short notice. SUSAN (snidely) I had lots of help. TROY I hope the boys weren't too ... abrupt with you. You see, we're on a very tight schedule - SUSAN I can see a lot of tax money at work. But I still don't know what you're doing or why I'm here. TROY You're here because we need you. SUSAN Who's "we"? TROY The human race. 29. INT. LABORATORV~ DAY SUSAN at a microscope, examining tissue and blood samples. SUSAN Yeah. That's it. This tissue's crawling with the stuff. At her side are TROY, DODGE, and another scientist in a lab coat - WELDON STEWART, thirtyish, slightly pudgy, on the nerdy side. 18. STEWART The pink stuff. The vector. It appears to be some kind of self-replicating organic machine . . . all it does is reproduce and - SUSAN - and attack fetal DNA. Have you figured out the coding yet? Do you know how it's programmed? STEWART shrugs helplessly. SUSAN swivels around on the lab stool and fixes the three men with her steeliest gaze. SUSAN Why don't we all just lay our cards on the table, boys? I don't know where you got that tissue sample I'm looking at . . . but I know it's not human. DODGE We should've gone public a year ago . . . we'd be that much farther ahead . . . SUSAN We thought we had it contained. But there was blood loss - from the wound - SUSAN Stop it! Just tell me. In English - !! TROY Susan, there's someone we'd like you to meet. 30. INT. OBSERVATION ROOM - DAY GREEN LIGHT floods a sealed VACUUM CHAMBER , visible through a wall of UNBREAKABLE GLASS. On the other side, suspended from a tangle of wires, hangs the FROZEN CORPSE . . . of an ORANGUTAN. In a spacesuit. A bloodstained spacesuit, with a neat round BULLET HOLE in the abdominal area. TROY We picked him out of New York Harbor. About fourteen months ago. 19. SUSAN Where'd he come from? DODGE Best guess right now is an earth-like planet orbiting Alpha Centauri. TROY Poor guy. Traveled almost five light-years to earth - and a 19-year-old coast guardsman shot him on sight. SUSAN'S gaze is riveted on the Orang. His eyes remain open even in death. He seems to be looking right at her ... pleading. SUSAN So someone put a diseased lab animal in a spacecraft - and shot it to earth? The men exchange a look . . . CHUCKLE among themselves. STEWART That's what we thought at first. TROY Then Dodge here started playing with the navigational computers. DODGE The math was driving me crazy at first. We count on our ten fingers - base ten. Well, this baby was all programmed in base twenty. SUSAN . . .Fingers and toes. Grins all around. The boys are warming up to SUSAN. They think alike. TROY That was no lab animal. That was the pilot. CUT TO: 3l. AERIAL POV SHOT - THE CRAHD CANYON - DAY A POV SHOT from the cockpit of a supersonic, infinitely maneuverable AIRCRAFT rocketing THROUGH THE GRAND CANYON. We SWOOP, 20. DIP, ARC RIGHT and LEFT, DO A BARREL ROLL - all at nauseating, vertiginous speed, barely avoiding the sheer rock walls on either side! TECHNICIAN [o.s] Okay, I'm killing your left engine! You're going into a tailspin! PILOT [o.s.] DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!! Suddenly we're SCREAMING DOWN toward the floor of the canyon! 32. INT. FLIGHT-SIMULATOR LAB - DAY We're looking at a guy in a GYROSCOPIC SIMULATOR. He wears a VIRTUAL-REALITY HELMET which gives him the aerial-landscape view we've just seen. As he works the joystick, the HARNESS he's strapped into PITCHES and YAWS just as an aircraft would. The simulator is capable of 360-degree motion in all directions, so he's being swung back- wards, forwards, upside down. It's like being in a milkshake machine. He's a hell-raising hotshot of 26, and his name is CMDR. DAVID ASTOR. VOICES call out from the floor below the simulator: TROY ASTROBOY! DODGE HEY, ASTROBOY! ASTOR shaves a sharp turn just a little too close. He lets out a SCREAM. The gyroscopic harness JERKS, BUCKS, JITTERS . . . and comes to a DEAD HALT. ASTOR pulls off his VR helmet, cursing a blue streak. ASTOR Goddammit, Troy, you pinheaded needle- dicked slide-rule sucking son of a mentally defective monkey, you just made us crash on a alien goddam landscape! TROY Sorry! There's someone I want you to meet. ASTOR unstraps himself, climbs down from the gyro unit. He takes one 21. look at SUSAN and turns on the oily charm. TROY Susan Landis? Cmdr. David Astor. Our pilot. ASTOR The gene queen! My pleasure. I thought you were coming in a couple of weeks ago. SUSAN My invitation was lost in the mail. ASTOR Let me apologize for anything my colleagues may say or do. They come from a distant isle where beautiful women are only a myth. He bows formally, kisses her hand - like an over-the-top parody of Eddie Haskell. TROY Astroboy was in the psychopathic ward. The only way he could get out was to volunteer for this mission. SUSAN . . What mission? ASTOR They haven't shown you yet? Follow me. 38. INT. HANGAR - DAY METAL DOORS roll back. BLINDING SUNLIGHT pours in. Inside the hangar, a FORTY-MAN GROUND CREW of mechanics is swarming around an utterly staggering sight. It's a STARSHIP - the same one we saw dredged out of New York Harbor. It's no longer a charred, blackened mass; it's been restored to its full, pristine, butterfly-winged glory. TECHNICIANS are even now buffing it to a high sheen. It looks ready to lift off. The boys can't help themselves. They break into big grins every time they see it. And SUSAN does likewise. 22. SUSAN Oh my God. - Does it fly? TROY (chuckling) C'mon. I'll let you sit in the captain's chair. 34. INT. SPACECRAFT - DAY as they enter. The interior is divided into a number of cramped compartment. The BRIDGE area has a large observation port - and, beneath it, an instrument console which duplicates the one in ASTOR's simulator. SUSAN wanders around wide-eyed. She's actually standing inside an artifact from another world. TROY I was hoping to reverse-engineer the drive - learn to build one from scratch. But the plague tightened up our schedule. SUSAN You mean . . . ? DODGE It was programmed for a round-trip all along. So as long as we've got our boarding pass . . . ASTOR We're gonna fly this sucker right back where it came from! As she moves from the bridge toward the rear compartments of the ship, she sees a row of five chrome-and-glass SARCOPHAGI - just like the one we saw TROY in. SUSAN Cryogenic tanks. So that's why you were relaxing in the deep-freeze . . . TROY The trip's going to take six years. The ship's not big enough for food and water, so - DODGE Well need a good rest anyway. 23. The five SARCOPHAGI are all labelled with the names of their future occupants. SUSAN traces along with one finger - until she gets to the FIFTH chrome coffin, which bears no name. SUSAN Troy. Stewart. Astor. Dodge . . . (pause; smiling) One berth still open. Who's number five? The others just stare at her. It takes her a good three seconds to get the picture. And off her shell shocked expression we CUT TO: INT. INT. MEXICAN RESTAURANT - NIGHT A six-piece Mexican marimba band supplies the soundtrack; a WAITER brings a fresh pitcher of margaritas over to a table near the outdoor patio, where we find TROY, DODGE, STEWART and ASTOR. There's a fifth place setting - SUSAN's - but she's not in her chair. STEWART, potted, is drawing Minkowski diagrams on cocktail napkins. He's explaining relativity to ASTOR, an unreceptive student. STEWART Now we accelerate for a year - travel at max speed for four - and in the last year, we decelerate. Of course, due to relativistic time dilation, six years for us will be thirty-four on earth. But if we send our findings back by radio, there should still be a handful of fertile pre-menopausal women . . . A gorgeous COCKTAIL WAITRESS slinks past. ASTOR eyes her and claps STEWAWT briskly on the shoulder . . . ASTOR Hold that thought, Stewart. I'm gonna get us a fresh batch of cocktail napkins. He jumps up, dogging the WAITRESS's heels. TROY, meanwhile, is anxiously scanning the restaurant. TROY What happened to Susan? 24. DODGE Ladies' room, I think - TROY That was ten minutes ago. The two of them exchange a nervous look. TROY heads outdoors. 36. EXT. DESERT~ NIGHT She's wandered down from the outdoor patio into the desert. She's out among the cacti, wandering along a dry creek bed, staring at the stars. TROY wanders up behind her. TROY . . . Need a little air? SUSAN I'm sorry. I was just listening to all of you talk about the future ... and I got this awful, clammy sense that the future was all used up. TROY Children are the future. Take them away, and you take away hope. A weird pronouncement, coming from TROY. She looks at him askance. SUSAN You have kids? TROY No. I did, but . . . no. She waits for a further explanation. After a few seconds she realizes there's not going to be one. TROY has some sort of emotional wound that he doesn't want probed; she respects his wishes. SUSAN Why'd you pick on me, Troy? There are others in my field that are at least as qualified. More experienced . . . TROY It's not a flattering answer. 25. SUSAN I'm past caring about politesse. TROY We had three candidates. You were the best - and you had the least to lose. She looks at him as if he's slapped her in the face. TROY The others had families. Obligations, ties . . . reasons to stay behind. SUSAN I had a calico cat once. Till it died. TROY You have a sister in Florida. You've been engaged twice; you broke it off both times. You haven't had a date in seven months - SUSAN Well, Christ, I've been working, haven't I. TROY - which puts you in exactly the same category as the rest of us. We've all had our lives collapse around us. We get on with it. We do our work! Her mood softens a little. SUSAN I don't want the destiny of the race on my shoulders, that's all. (shaking her head) They still line up outside the CDC. Pregnant women, every day. They know there's nothing we can do for them, but they show up anyway -- just wanting to see us, or touch us, or - TROY Susan? If we stay here, we die. If we go there (pointing skyward) - we find an answer, or we fail. But at least we took that one tiny chance we had. 26. SUSAN Which one's ours? TROY turns her around - points tb the southwest corner of the sky. As she searches for the tiny twinkling pinprick of Alpha Centauri, the camera TILTS up - up - upward into the heavens . . . and we DlSSOLVE TO: 37. EXT. OUTER SPACE - NIGHT A BRILLIANT STARFIELD like the one we just left. And in fact we might think we're still back in the New Mexico desert . . . . . except for the BLACK SPACECRAFT~ that appears out of nowhere and comes zooming right at us. The CAMERA WHlP PANS WITH IT as it speeds beyond the ringed splendor of Saturn, vanishing into the icy dark. 38. INT. SPACECRAFT - night TIGHT ON THE INSTRUMENT CONSOLE at the front of the cockpit. Two side-by-side CHRONOMETERS read: SIDEREAL DATE: 11/19/01 21:07:17 EARTH DATE: 07/08/02 11:51:03 Needless to say, the SECOND chronometer is ticking off the minutes at a visibly faster clip than the first. We move back through the ghostly silence of the ship, past lab gear and radio telescopes, to the PASSENGER COMPARTMENT - five frosted-over SARCOPHAGI standing upright in a tow. We see the LABELS on each: ASTOR. STEWART. DODGE. TROY... And, last but not least, LANDIS. 39. EXT. OUTER SPACE - SERIES OF DISSOLVES - THE CRAFT Past the solar system and well on its way to Alpha Centauri. The ship is now at full velocity, and space-time is WARPING around it. The stars look distended, almost liquid ... as if the universe had begun to MELT. 40. INT. SPACECRAFT - COCKPIT - NIGHT Through the observation bay, THREE SUNS burn bright~y. We've entered another solar system. The CHRONOMETERS read: 27. SIDEREAL TIME: 03/29/16 01:94:30 EARTH TIME: 06/21/33 12:02:56 Then: a sudden GRINDING NOISE as gears come to life. LIGHTS flick on in the darkened craft; OXYGEN hisses through ventilation grates . . . TROY's cryo-unit expels a little CLOUD OF CONDENSATlON as the seal breaks. The chrome & glass lid retracts and he floats out, WEIGHTLESS. He grabs an upright, takes a deep breath, and pulls himself down to the floor so his VELCRO SHOES can take hold of the carpet. ASTOR [o.s.] Man, I've woken up with some ugly-ass critters in my time, but this - TROY looks up. ASTOR is floating HORIZONTIALLY two feet overhead. TROY Asshole. I'm even glad to see you. ASTOR lets out a Texas whoop, REVELING in his own weightlessness. He KICKS OFF on a bulkhead, launching himself toward the cockpit up front. DODGE and SUSAN are floating out of their coffins as well . . . DODGE Give me a bagel and a New York Times. This gets a LAUGH out of the boys. SUSAN joins in. But then - SUSAN What the hell's that? SMALL PURPLE GLOBULES the size of a poker chip art floating in the air before her eyes. The men look around; they're all-over the cabin. As ate numerous bits of SHATTERED GLASS . . . SUSAN Stewart? All eyes turn to the fifth coffin. The chrome half of the lid is still in place. But the glass is missing, except for a few ragged shards stuck in the frame. It seems to have exploded outward ... DODGE touches one of the purple poker chips. DODGE Blood. 28. They exchange nervous looks. SUSAN peers around a corner... and the bloodless, bone-white corpse of STEWART floats out to greet her. There's a big open GASH on the back of his left hand. SUSAN He must've cut his hand when the glass blew. DODGE Near-vacuum conditions - his bloodstream would've emptied out in a couple of seconds - TROY And it never coagulated. No oxygen. Till now. Stunned silence - till ASTOR sticks his head in from the cockpit area. ASTOR Save it for later. Man your stations. Now! TROY He's our friend, Astor - he's dead - ASTOR He's probably been dead for a decade or two. The rest of us are one hour to touchdown, and we got us a way funky port stabilizer. DODGE Meaning what? ASTOR Meaning we're damn sure lucky we got a pilot on board. 41. EXT. OUTER SPACE - NIGHT A HUGE, BLUE-GREEN PLANET looms before us as the spacecraft hurtles toward its surface, dwindling down into the tiniest of specks. 42. SERIES OF SHOTS - THE DECENT We break through the clouds into a bleak, beautiful, icy landscape of CANYONS and MOUNTAJN RANGES. The ship swoops, dives, pitches as ASTOR feels out the lay of the land . . . 29. 43. INT. SPACECRAFT - NIGHT Our four surviving spacefarers huddled around the observation port. ASTOR God damn. Come on. Gimme something flat! DODGE (at the radar screen) I'm showing a f]at basin - about six acres - nine klicks west. That room enough for you? ASTOR Stand back and watch me work. 44. EXT. MOUNTAIN BASIN - ON SHIP - NIGHT With VTOL rockets blazing the ship descends to the icy, snow-covered plain below. MOUNTAINS surround it in all directions. 45. INT. CRAFT - NIGHT A soft THUNK and they're down - the first humans to land on anothcr planet. The momentousness of thc occasion doesn't escape them. For a few moments they just sit there, staring at cach other, until . . . DODGE Atmospheric readout says it's safe to breathe. TROY Better wear the excursion suits anyway. Well need to keep warm. 46. EXT. MOUNTAIN BASIN - NIGHT The hatch opens. Hydraulic stcps descend. Our rour spacefarers step out of the craft and into their new environment. There's snow and ice everywhere you ]ook. FOUR MOONS of various sizes shine above. Low on the horizon hangs the tiny red orb of Proxima Centauri, the smallest sun in this triple-star system. Because of the planet's orbital angle, Proxima Centauri NEVER SETS. It burns like a perpetual nightlight, bathing the landscape in a dim, dull neon glow. The group communicates by means of RADIO MIKES in their helmets. 30. TROY [filter] I guess somebody ought to take off his helmet. Any volunteers? LONG SILENCE. They exchange looks. No eager beavers in this group. SUSAN [filter] Astroboy? ASTOR [filter] My mama always taught me ladies first. SUSAN rises to the challenge. She twists TWO KNOBS on eithcr side of her collar, breaking the airtight seal. Then she lifts her helmet off and TAKES A DEEP BREATH. Two breaths. She LAUGHS. The others follow suit. Within moments they're all breathing the rarefied air of a new world, and LAUGHING. PULL BACK TO: 47. POV SHOT - FROM ROCKS - ON MOUNTAIN BASIN Their LAUGHTER echoes in the distance. From this rocky perch high above the basin we can see the whole tableau: the ship, its passengers - - and, as dawn breaks over the mountains, we can see something else as well. The unmistakable silhouette of a crude stone-tipped SPEAR in the foreground ... and clutching it, a HUMAN HAND. 48. EXT. MOUNTAIN BASIN - DAY TROY and DODGE are a short distance uphill from the ship, standing over a man-sized PILE OF ROCKS. DODGE pulls a tiny AMERICAN FLAG from his pocket and PLANTS IT at the head of the grave. They linger there a moment saying their silent farewells to STEWART. ASTOR and SUSAN are unloading gear from the spaceship. In the glare of the triple sun, the snow around thc ship's begun to turn slushy. ASTOR Whoa, little lady. Let me carry that for you. 31. SUSAN Enough with the chivalry, okay? I'm not some delicate nower. Crazy as it sounds, women can lift crates just iike men. ASTOR Landis - I happen to likt women. If it was up to me, we wouldte brought four women. SUSAN And one man? - Who's the man? ASTOR Three guesses. By now, DODGE and TROY have come trudging down to join them. The two scientists take seats on newly-unloaded CRATES. TROY Four women and Astroboy. It's macabre. ASTOR Well, like it or not, gentlemen, the four of us just may be humanity's last chance to perpetuate itself as a species. SUSAN is REELING from this line of discussion. Waving htr hands, shaking her head in disbelief, she wanders back to the ship. SUSAN WHOA-A-A. Check, please! 49. POV SHOT - ON THE FOURSOME Now we're watching them from the vantage of an UNSEEN OBSERVER moving gradualy closer past icy boulders, around trees . . . SUSAN Excuse me - boys - I just put the radio box over by this rock. - And now it's gone. NERVOUS LOOKS all around. They hear a BIRD CALL. From among the boulders - awfully close. Then anothcr - as if answering the first . . . DODGE Let's get back in the ship. 32. No debate necessary. The four of them back cautiously toward the craft, scanning the plain, the surrounding boulders. 50. INT. SPACECRAFT - A MOMENT LATER The moment they're inside with the hatch closed, they hear a series of metallic CLANGS against the outtr skin of the craft. TROY Someone's throwing shit at us .. . ASTOR's way ahead of him on that count. He ignites the VTOL rockets. 51. EXT. PLAIN - ON SPACECRAFT Several ROCKS and a crude SPEAR bounce off the ship. We pan down to the ROCKETS blasting fue onto the snowy plain . . . We hear a strange CREAKING noise - and then, without warning, a great big FISSURE opens up under the spacecraft. 52. INT. CRAFT - THAT MOMENT Suddenly the craft PITCHES SIDEWAYS. Everyone in it is THROWN TO THE FLOOR. TROY drags himself up to the console - stares out the viewport at GREAT SLABS OF ICE breaking up beneath them - TROY Jesus Christ. We're on a lake!!! 53. EXT. PLAIN - ON SPACECRAFT - THAT MOMENT The ship's at a 45-degree angle and SLIDlNG RAPIDLY into the icy waters. The hatch blows; ASTOR and DODGE dive out and tumble across the ice to safety. SUSAN's next - - but when she hits the ice, it GIVES WAY BENEATH HER! TROY sees her disappearing into the freezing water - TROY SUSAN!! - and without hesitation, DIVES IN AFTER HER! 33. 54. UNDERWATER SHOT - BENEATH THE ICE She's sinking like a stone. He grabs her, tries to swim to the surface, but CAN'T - she's too heavy. Another thirty seconds and they're goners. The SHIP continues to slide into the water. TROY drags SUSAN laterally to the ship ... catches hold of the open hatch, and manages to PULL THEM BOTH along the exterior of the hull, toward sunlight . . . 55. EXT. LAKE - A MOMENT LATER They break the surface, GASPING. TROY lifts SUSAN out and they flop on the ice, exhausted and hypothennic, TEETH CHATTERING from the cold. Their suits are full of water. Another minute or two out here on the floe, and their suits will be full of ICE instead. SUSAN Sh-should've . . . sh-should've let me . . . TROY You're the most important cargo wete got. (shuddering) Suits full of water - we'll freeze if we - A SPEAR whizzes between their faces and MBEDS ITSELF in the ice. They look around. DODGE and ASTOR have been taken captive by a HUNTlNG PARTY - two dozen SHAGGY, FUR-CLAD STONE AGE MEN. 55. INT. CAVE - DAY In the deepest pocket of a labyrinthine CAVE DWELLING we find our four heroes seated around a fire. DODGE and ASTOR are still wearing their excursion suits, but TROY and SUSAN are bundled up in borrowed animal furs. They're being guarded by a tight circle of WOMEN and OLD MEN. The women chew hides, the geezers chip flint tools. A CHILD paws at the odd fabric of ASTOR's suit; ASTOR slaps back, makes a facc at him. The CHILD breaks into wild, hyena-like laughter. His mother grunts and whacks him sharply upside the head. ASTOR Hey, Troy:, I forgct. Which one oi these guys was the spaceship designer? 34. TROY Look. They're human. That doesn't make them the dominant species. DODGE They're obviously dominating us. ASTOR A bunch of women, Medicare patients - hell. Why wait? We can take 'em right now. SUSAN's been staring off into the distance through all this. SUSAN The men are down at the mouth of the cave, Astor. They're having a council meeting. TROY Probably deciding whether to worship us, or eat us. DODGE With a nice chi-ant-i. DODGE ASTOR Listen. There's a crate of rifles down by the lake If we can get to 'em - if just one of us can get to 'em . . . DODGE pulls out his pipe and LIGHTS IT with a Zippo. The TRIBESMEN GASP, awed and fascinated at the sight of the tiny FLAME. He holds it out for an old MAN to TOUCH. The old man lets out a YELP, and DODGE quickly snaps the lighter SHUT. Almost at once, THREE OF THEIR GUARDIANS clamber off over the rocks to bring this shocking news to the tribal leaders. TROY LAUGHS . . . TROY That settles it. We're gods. DODGE Hey, I'm the god. You three can be my little elves. The TRIBAL LEADERS come hunying into the rear cavern. DODGE rises boldly to his feet, holds up the lighter and demonstates its use. 35. The TRIBESMEN gasp in unison. They start to move in toward the flame - but the merest gesture from DODGE sends them back, cringing ... ASTOR Man. You got this god shit down. The TRIBESMEN chatter and grunt excitedly among themselves. But then, abruptly, they FREEZE - going absolutely silent. Our four captives stare at one another in confusion. A deathly HUSH in the cave . . . Then they hear it. Distant musical notes - the sound of a HUNTER'S HORN signalling the start of the chase - - and suddeniy the TRIBESPEOPLE are RUNNING OFF in all directions, some toward the back of the cave, some toward the front. Five seconds later TROY and the gang are standing there alone and unguarded. 57. INT. CAVE - NEAR MOUTH - POV TROY There's a huge CAMPFIRE blazing in the large vault at the mouth of the cave, and the TRlBE is running around it in a shrieking panic. Some leap out of the cave; others crawl into cramped nooks and crannies. The HORN sounds again - accompanied by a throbbing, warlike DRUMBEAT. TROY and SUSAN emerge, spot the cave entrance just past the campfire - and find themselves staring out at an unbelievable sight. HOVERlNG just outside the mouth of the cave is a WHIRLYBIRD. And seated in it, aiming what looks like a BAZOOKA directly at us . . . .. . is a GORILLA in full military dress! He fires. A canister of TEAR GAS rattles across the cave floor. An instant later, everyone's choking on NOXIOUS GREEN FUMES. 58. EXT CAVE MOUTH - THAT MOMENT A BlLLOWING GREEN CLOUD pours out of the cave - and with it, MEN, WOMEN, and CHILDREN, who dive out GASPlNG onto tht steep, rocky slopes below. The cave mouth is flanked by gas-masked GORILLAS with guns and prods. One of them yank's on a CABLE . . . ... and a HUGE NET springs up to snare the humans as they come tumbling head-over-heels fiom the mouth of the cave! 36. 59. INT. CAVE - DEEP TUNNEL - THAT MOMENT In the swirling gas it's aimost impossible to see. DODGE has fallen in with a batch of tribesmen who are tacing DEEPER into the cave. They're clambering up a craggy wall toward an AIRHOLE - just big enough to crawl through. SCREAMS and WAILlNG as the tribespeople climb OVER one another in their panic to get out. DODGE stares up at the airhole. It's as if someone's standing outside, opening and closing a TRAP DOOR, letting one human out at a time . . . VOICE [o.s.] PULL! ! 60. EXT. AIRHOLE - ON THE SLOPES - THAT MOMENT Outside, we can see that TWO GORILLAS are holding a wooden PLANK in place over the AIRHOLE. GORILLA I PULL! On command from their comrade, they lift the plank for a couple of seconds. A HUMAN climbs out and bolts off at a sprint - until GORlLLA I, who's posted a short ways off, takes aim with his rifle and FIRES. Skeet shooting ... with humans. 61. INT. CAVE - TUNNEL - A MOMENT LATER DODGE at the airhole. The plank opens. Two grinning GORILLAS stare down at him. Horrified, he leaps back down over the mass of bodies. The others continue lemming-like toward their fates as he races deeper into the cave, looking for anothcr exit. 57. INT. CAVE MOUTH - A MOMENT LATER The rifle-toting, gas-masked APE GUARDS on either side of the cave entrance. The one on the left leans around to have a peek inside;and the red-hot end of a BIG FLAMING LOG, freshly plucked from the campfire, slams squarely into his gut. Dropping his rifle with a shriek, he LOSES HIS FOOTING and goes bouncing off among the rocks. TROY steps out of the cave and heaves his blazing louisville slugger down the side of the cliffs. The SECOND APE GUARD calls out through 37. the thick greenish smoke ... APE GUARD II Cletus! What was that?? TROY HELP! HELP! APE GUARD II climbs down from his perch to investigate. He starts to cut across the cave mouth, but the instant he steps onto the ledge - ASTORS HAND closes around his collar - and sends him slamming to the cave floor! The last thing this ape ever sees is SUSAN, poised above him with a big nasty BOULDER, about to PULVERIZE his SKULL. Grabbing the dead ape's rifle, ASTOR and SUSAN hook up with TROY on the rocks above the cave. As they scan the landscape they can see that they're in the midst of a truly massive operation: FLEETS of TRUCKS and all-terrain vehicles down below ... a veritable ARMY of gorillas and chimpanzees. And in the skies, FOUR MORE HELICOPrERS, FUMIGATlNG all the nearby caves with tear gas. TROY We've got to go up. It's the only way - ASTOR hands him the rifle, claps him on the shoulder - ASTOR Sorry, I'm heading for that crate of rifles. Meet you back here on New Year's Eve. 63. EXT. SNOWY SLOPE - THAT MOMENT HUMANS scrambling down a big open expanse of perfect powder. TWO APES IN SNOWMOBILES appear over the crest of the hill; a NET stretches between the two vehicles, effortlessly SCOOPING UP HUMANS as the Skidoos whiz past. 64. EXT. ROCKY DEFILE - THAT MOMENT APES ON SKIS converge from several directions, FIRING PISTOLS into the air. They're HERDING a group of frightened humans down through a series of PROGRESSNELY SMALLER OPENINGS in the rocks. An APE swings an AXE - severing a SUPPORT ROPE. The snowy ground 38. beneath the humans' feet suddenly DROPS AWAY, and they plunge headlong into a PITFALL - conveniently lined with netting for easy removal of the day's catch. 65. EXT. ROCKS ABOVE FROZEN LAKE - THAT MOMENT MORE HUMANS making their way downhill - including ASTOR, who sticks out like a sore thumb in his spacesuit. A TRIBESMAN collides with him from behind, knocking him off his feet. He gets up cursing - then hears a metallic SNAP arid a howl of PAIN. The TRIBESMAN is writhing, leg caught in a STEEL BEAR TRAP - as ASTOR surely would've been if he'd kept to the same path! He reaches the campsite and the CRATE OF RIFLES. RIPS OFF THE LID. Reaches down - and feels a BEE STlNG on his neck. It's a TRANQUILIZING DART. He barely has time to yank it out before he topples to the ground in a heap. An APE in sun goggles skis up to thd site, stops on a dimc. He gapes in puzzlement at ASTOR's odd garb, at the crate of rifles. He reaches into his designer parka and pulls out a CELLULAR PHONE. 66. EXT. HIGH GROUND - THAT MOMENT TROY and SUSAN keeping low to the ground, working their way from one hiding place to the next, with GUNSHOTS echoing all around them. They take cover amid a cluster of BOULDERS to do some quick recon. If they can make it across a big flat expanse of snow, they might be able to hide out in the rocky cliffs beyond. Unfortunately, APES ON SKIDOOS are crisscrossing the plain, PICKING OFF stray humans . . . TROY TROY If we could grab one of those things . . . An ENGINE guns behind them. SUSAN peers around the boulder: SUSAN Look out. Thert's one coming up behind us. TROY braces himself against the boulder. At the last instant he swings his RIFLE up into the approaching snowmobile's path. WHAM! - the Skidoo keeps going, but the GORILLA stays behind. 39. TROY and SUSAN race toward the abandoned vehicle and climb aboard. As they take off across the snows, a WHlRLYBIRD swoops into view . . . 67. INT. WHIRLYBIRD - MOVING - THAT MOMENT An APE PILOT and an APE GUNNER staring down in SHEER GLEE at the sight of two humans piloting a SNOWMOBILE. PILOT Get a load of this. They're making a getaway! GUNNER Human see, human do! Chortling, they PEPPER the ground below with MACHINE-GUN FIRE. The engine of the hijacked Skidoo takes a hit. It begins to trail OILY SMOKE as TROY frantically ZIGZAGS among the rocks to evade fire. 68. EXT. SLOPES - ON SKIDOO - MOVING TROY and SUSAN GLIDING over the crest of a hill. Their eyes widen in unison. They SLAM ON THE BRAKES - SKID KARD LEFT - - and stop mere feet away from the edge of a PRECIPICE. They're trapped on the brink of a YASWNING CHASM, a thousand feet deep . . . A SECOND WHIRLYBIRD rises up from the canyon, no more than twenty feet in front of them, and BLANKETS THE SNOWMOBILE in a thick shroud of KNOCKOUT GAS. FADE THROUGH TO: 69. EXT. ROAD - ON TRANSPORT - MOVING - DAY An OVERHEAD VIEW of a TRANSPORT TRUCK driving down a frozen, muddy mountain trail. The back of it's outfitted as a big open CAGE, and it's full of HUMAN BODIES. Dead? Unconscious? Hard to tell. Atop the stack of bodies is ASTOR - still in his excursion suit. He wakes up - reacts in horrar and disgust to the animal stench all around him. 70. EXT. OUTDOOR HOLDING PEN - DAY Bare, muddy ground. SUSAN is sprawled there, a couple of feet away from TROY - who's moaning softly, right on the verge of coming around. 40. ASTORS VOICE [o.s.] TROY! TROY!! TROY sits up slowly, aching all over. He sees the TRANSPORT TRUCK rumbling past, with ASTOR in the back. ASTORS HEY, TROY!! TROY tries to answer, but breaks out into a fit of violent COUGHlNG the after-effect of the gas attack. 71. EXT. ROAD - ON TRUCK - THAT MOMENT The chimp driver, MARCELLUS, looks nervously back over his shoulder and slams on the brakes. He climbs out of the open cab and peers into the CAGE - looking for an ape stowed away among the humans. MARCELLUS Who said that? Who's in there? ASTOR Hey. Open this thing up. Let me out of here. MARCELLUS makes no reply - except for a SQUEAK OF SHOCK. He JUMPS BACK as ASTOR rattles the bars. ASTOR Yeah, you, monkey boy. Let me out! Who the hell's in charge around here? MARCELLUS fires a TASER WEAPON - what the apes call a "stinger" - at ASTOR. The human jerks, twitches, and topples over, unconscious. MARCELLUS Colonel Ursus!! Colonel Ursus!! A burly, uniformed GORlLLA marches over to MARCELLUS' truck.