Part 1: AlphaZero

A science fiction screenplay

Background

Every writer has to write at least one science fiction screenplay, an unspoken tradition. AlphaZero was my debt to sci-fi due, written pre-Internet and CGI, no less, officially making it a period piece. I’m currently working on a serialization set in the Multiverse, a creative mandatory for this generation, I guess, so loved digging this fossil up from the mid-90s.

Scanning the hardcopy printout and tediously reformating it, I was tempted to do extensive rewrites, at the very least update the crew names. The main character Pepseiko seemed a clever portmanteau at the time, combining the world’s most popular fizzy drink and wristwatch, but now sounds like an exotic anachronism, or more closely Dr. Seuss nonsense.

Aside from fixing typos, I left the script verbatim. A slew of sci-fi has hit screens since, cable and then the streaming wars inundating our senses with a tsunami of prequels, sequels, and originals, good, bad, and ugly. My script was already blatantly derivative of ideas subsequently copied ad nauseam, but I at least have dibs on stuff seen only recently, or not at all.

To me, the best sci-fi takes the limitations of physical law, and creates art — the classic example is Kubrik’s depiction of the untethered astronaut, tumbling silently through space. A science geek since childhood, I did my best to stay true to the latest concepts and theories of physics, cosmology, and biology in this script, and in retrospect, I paid my utmost respects.

What I got right in a way almost nobody did or does, is relativistic time dilation, and the astonishing expanse of interstellar space. As a slight spoiler, a scene features transmissions being received between colonies from various distances, and the crew has no idea who is currently at war, who at peace. I play with other paradoxes, the exotic mood kind of cool.

A classic sci-fi trope is retrofitting old with new, and I indulge that cliche here with an almost medieval hierarchy on the ship. The degradation of democracy and rise of authoritarianism throughout the world since I wrote the script suggest I was onto something here, too. For example, China proved that state control and technological advance can, and do, mix.

Another nugget of sci-fi foresight is the racial and ethnic ambiguity of the crew, homogenity through diversity, and its implications. If memory serves, I wrote this after visiting my sister in Caracas, Venezuela, where I marveled at the racial equality there — class distinctions were intense, but based on economic status. Fast forward to The Matrix, the W.’s doing same.

I took that racial blending even further, also anticipating a meta-sexual culture where male and female, straight and gay became similarly amorphous. Now that half the kids of half my high school friends identify as gay or transgendered, I was ahead of the curve here — but back in the 90s what now seems table stakes remained rather risqué, a “statement”.

Before the digital revolution, everyone was predicting bases on the Moon and flying cars, hardly anyone anticipating the biggest paradigm shift in our pockets. Arthur C. Clark described smartphones in the 60s, but even he never imagined the implications. My favorite sci-fi novel is William Gibson’s Neuromancer from 1984, the AI bad guy still using pay phones.

That said, I forgive myself for the throwbacks throughout this script. Ahead of my time and behind it, over the audience’s head and between their legs, so to speak, AlphaZero holds its own, even when it falls apart. Hemingway suggested taking out all the good lines of a story, then seeing if it still works — strip away the gizmos and gadgets, and we’re left with a tale of defiance.

Here goes…

Alpha Zero

A Science Fiction Screenplay

And thus they give the time, that Nature meant
For peaceful sleep and meditative snores,
To ceaseless din and mindless merriment
And waste of shoes and floors.
— Lewis Carroll

I don’t know who my grandfather was; I am much more concerned to know what his grandson will be.
— Abraham Lincoln

The unjustifiable severity of a parent is loaded with this aggravation, that those whom he injures are always in his sight.
— Joseph Addison


Pitch

Alphazero is Mutiny On The Bounty meets Aliens. The script is longer than standard, owing to the many descriptive F/X segments, and the crew outlines. But the actual running time, however, shouldn’t exceed the typical 90 or so minutes.

Synopsis

The year is 2778 A.D., and the interstellar freighter Ambergris is docked in Earth orbit, ready for a voyage to the most remote human outpost, the colony of AlphaZero, more than ninety light years distant.

The ship’s cargo is a mystery, its crew comprised of an eclectic group of misfits. The launch is already enmeshed in mystery, sustained as the ship slingshots away from the sun, and accelerates to relativistic velocity out and into the interstellar void.

Joining them is Murdock, a journalist who is documenting their odyssey. What begins as an already uncertain mission explodes into open mutiny, as ship and crew spiral out-of-control in a realm where space and time collapse into a singularity redefining isolation and rebellion…

Dedication

AlphaZero is dedicated to Juan Lazarde, of Caracas, Venezuela, who’s smart enough never to have gotten on board in the first place.

Characters (Human, Bio-Engineered, and Synthetic)

MURDOCK, journalist for the 28th Century’s Wall Street Journal
CAPTAIN CAPTAIN, Commander of the Ambergris
GENESIS, First Mate, and the Commander’s personal assistant
NAZDAX, computer systems officer
GATESSYTEMS 1101, the ship’s computer, a.k.a. “BILL”
WOLFRAMDESIGNS 88, a service droid, a.k.a. “GONZO”
EREWHON, navigations/communications officer
THISONE, navigator’s assistant
THATONE, his genetically engineered clone
SEXXON, propulsion systems officer
PEPSEIKO, engineering assistant
RIPPER, cryotechnician and medical officer
KRISSKROSS, medical assistant
MADDOXX, security officer and onboard Corporate Agent
WOLFRAMDESIGNS 1600, a security droid, codenamed “KRILL”

CRYOCREW: cryogenically suspended replacements for each of the crew
HERENOW, cryoreplacement for THISONE
THERENOW, cryoreplacement for THATONE
PENTAX, cryoreplacement for NAZDAX

DEEPCRYOSPECIMEN: ostensibly just another piece of interstellar cargo
PUSS: a genetically engineered cat

EXT — CITY OF CHICAGO

INSERT: “ChicaCity, United Incorporated Republic: Absolute Christ Time, 2778, Month 5, Day 24.”

Dusk.

A tangled web of crowded cityscape, ground and air traffic, enormous skyscrapers jutting nearly two kilometers into the skies. The “shells” of once recognizable buildings (John Hancock, Sears Tower, Standard Oil) are also present, now plated in reinforcing plastics and steels.

PAN to the tallest building of all, shaped like an enormous, three kilometer-plus tall obelisk, radio beacon extending hundreds of meters further into the skies, congested with hovering and rapidly moving air traffic.

ZOOM to top floor, brilliantly illuminated deck with screens and faces.

INT — CHICACITY CONTROL TOWER

CONTROLLER (VO)
“GatesTower Command, ChicaCity Station: Shuttle 5150 is clear for orbital
redezvous with Ambergris, over.”

EXT — “GOPORT” CENTER, SPACE PORT, OTHER SIDE OF CHICAGO

Conceivably where O’Hare Airport once was, now a crisscross of intersecting runways, mushrooming communication antennas, jutting control towers, enormous hangerlike structures extending for many square kilometers.

ZOOM to one such CONTROL TOWER:

SPACE PORT CONTROLLER (VO)
“GoPort Center, Shuttle 5150 prepared for take-off: Receipt of Corporate Interdiction Coded ‘AS’, repeat, C.I. ‘AS’. Flightpattern reset to Damsel
Docking Port, 607 mark 12, Planetary Defensive Systems alerted, over.”

F/X: SHUTTLE 5150, looking something like a combination of the Concorde and Space Shuttle, emblazened with corporate and military markings and insignias, burns its engines, shoots up a runway, and takes off with a roar.

F/X: SHUTTLE 5150 leaving the atmosphere… SHUTTLE 5150 passing, in space, a platform, clearly military in nature, many jutting structures.

F/X: SHUTTLE 5150 approaching ORBITAL SPACE DOCK, with central portion rotating, and AMBERGRIS Interstellar Freighter, docked there…

AMBERGRIS
Most advanced of Interstellar Cargo Cruisers, is over two kilometers in length, shaped roughly like a cocktail glass, with a funky bottom portion:

The “glass” portion is comprised of weblike tendrils of a special alloy, leading to a somewhat conical middle section with a hollowed out core, out which pokes a translucent globe on either side.

The logic of the ship’s architecture gradually becomes evident: In summary, the slowly rotating webbed shielding provides the dual role of protecting the ship from interplanetary and interstellar debris (a tremendous danger, particularly when traveling at speeds close to that of light), while providing additional material for fuel.

The ship accelerates at the rate equivalent to one “G,” mimicking Earth’s gravity, so that, for the crewmembers, “up” is facing the forward shield webbing. For the anticipated deceleration phase, when the exhaust ports are reversed and aimed out the front, the crew should literally use the ceilings as their new flooring, giving the interiors a top-to-bottom symmetry, an almost surreal, “Wonderland” effect and feeling.

F/X: SHUTTLE 5150 docks with the “DAMSEL” SPACE DOCK.

ZOOM to rotating middle portion of SPACE DOCK.

INT — “DAMSEL” SPACE DOCK, HATCHWAY LEADING TO THE AMBERGRIS

Large room, bright white plastics (in contrast to most of the AMBERGRIS, see below), large windows with rotating Earthscape, the rotation of SPACE DOCK creating artificial centrifugal gravity.

The far end of room is a large HATCH, leading to airlock of the AMBERGRIS.

OFFICERS and CREW have been assembled: a DOCKING OFFICER, wearing official garb and headphones, holds a small computer.

DOCKING OFFICER
Hark hark, The Captain!

OFFICERS and CREW snap to attention, as CAPTAIN CAPTAIN, commander of the ship enters the HATCHWAY area from the SPACE DOCK, accompanied by his First Mate and assistant, GENESIS, who carries the end of CAPTAIN CAPTAIN’S black velvet-material cape.

For reasons to be explained later, all the humans are of mixed race, of no distinct genetic or ethnic ancestry. In addition, presumably because of the advanced technology and ambiguity caused by relativistic time dilation on prior trips, their absolute ages should also be fairly difficult to discern.

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN
Big, burly man, early forties, bushy brows and mustache. Resplendent in an almost medieval cape and military hat, he is adorned in insignias and medals, indicating his rank and what can only be described as his “exhaulted” status on ship.

GENESIS
Thoroughly androgynous, with long hair, yet heavy brows; breasts, yet a masculine figure; effeminate movements, yet a husky voice. Of indeterminate age, he/she is a genetically engineered hermaphrodite life form. GENESIS, in every action and attitude, appears thoroughly subservient to CAPTAIN CAPTAIN.

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN stands near the HATCH leading to the AMBERGRIS. He gives the OFFICERS and CREW a martial salute, the OFFICERS and CREW instantly responding with similar salute.

One-by-one, from high rank to low, OFFICERS and CREW approach CAPTAIN CAPTAIN before entering the vessel. Each, in turn, salutes again, says “Officer [NAME], to monitor and obey!”, bows down before CAPTAIN CAPTAIN, and then kisses his boot. They then stand back at attention, and finally enter the AMBERGRIS through the HATCH.

MURDOCK, the journalist, dressed in the equivalent of a suit-and-tie for the 28th Century, stands off to the side during this procedure, gazing at the scene with visible wonder, and some measure of confusion.

OFFICERS line up, approach and pay homage.

NAZDAX
Computer engineer, a thin, rickety, “geek” of the 28th Century. He carries with him a large box with a handle and extension of some sort, complicated circuitry, glowing in various bright colors, and wiring protruding throughout.

EREWHON
Navigation/ communication officer, a non-descript man in his late thirties. Carries two brightly glowing spheres, red and blue, one under each arm.

SEXXON
Propulsion engineer, a large, muscular man, distinguishing characterists are a huge and alarmingly ugly radiation scar across the right side of his face, and a servo-mechanical prosthetic right arm, complete with a hooklike “hand” with six units. SEXXON also limps slightly, implying a weakened right leg. He carries a small, portable computer. A glowing purple key dangles from a neckchain.

RIPPER
Cryotechnician and medic, in his late forties, slightly obese, most “out-of-shape” of the OFFICERS so far. Interestingly enough wears thick, round glasses. He carries with him a large kit, adorned with a glowing red cross.

CREW then follows suit, same procedure, only they say “Ensign [NAME], to monitor and obey!” before they bow down to kiss that boot.

THISONE and THATONE
Navigation officers, each are clones of the other, in their
thirties, they approach CAPTAIN CAPTAIN simultaneously, THISONE kissing the CAPTAIN’S right foot, THATONE his left. Each one carries a glowing sphere, identical to the two carried by EREWHON (THISONE’s glows red, THATONE’s glows blue). They enter the ship side-by-side, even their steps completely in synch.

KRISSKROSS
Medical assistant and in his late twenties, similar to “Two-Face” of Dick Tracy fame, as KRISSKROSS looks like two different people, cut laterally down the middle: His right side is thin, blonde, lighter complexioned, but with a jet black eye; his left side is visibly more muscular, dark haired, dark complexioned, an earring, yet with a blue eye. He, too, carries a medical kit, though slightly smaller, emblazened with a red cross.

MADDOXX
Security officer, and agent of the Corporation, MADDOXX is a non-descipt man wearing a uniform similar to the CAPTAIN’S, only with no official markings. He carries a small, brightly colored plastic card.

MADDOXX stands to one side, opposite MURDOCK, closely studying each CREWMEMBER as they go through the motions.

After KRISSKROSS has entered the AMBERGRIS through the HATCH, MADDOXX looks at the entryway door, scowls, then turns to and addresses the DOCKING OFFICER:

MADDOXX
(slowly and with obvious irritation)
Where, is Ensign, Pepseiko?

DOCKING OFFICER hurriedly examines his small computer list.

DOCKING OFFICER
Lieutenant Executive Maddoxx, sir! He should be —

PEPSEIKO enters, in no visible hurry.

DOCKING OFFICER
Ensign! Captain Captain awaits!

PEPSEIKO non-chalantly approaches CAPTAIN CAPTAIN.

PEPSEIKO
Engineering assistant, a young man in his early thirties, perhaps even late twenties, highly muscular, overtly brash, boasting an expression that could best be compared to Woody Woodpecker meets Carry’s “Joker”. He carries a small toolkit, and from his neckchain dangles a dimly glowing blue key.

PEPSEIKO looks all about, as if he’s “missed something,” then looks straight at CAPTAIN CAPTAIN.

PEPSEIKO salutes with exaggeration, speaks in a fake “Walter Cronkite” voice.

PEPSEIKO
Ensign Pepseiko, to monitor and obey!

PEPSEIKO bows down, smiles, then, as his face approaches CAPTAIN CAPTAIN’S boot, his mouth opens, exposing teeth, ready to bite.

PEPSEIKO’S head turns, mouth open, teeth gaping, staring straight into the now very confused and very fascinated eyes of MURDOCK.

PEPSEIKO’S stare slowly shifts to that of MADDOXX, whose icy stare and bristling eyebrows are the only return message.

After three seconds that seem like an eternity, PEPSEIKO’s mouth finally closes, forming a kiss. PEPSEIKO pauses an additional moment, then kisses the boot. He gets up, and enters the ship.

DOCKING OFFICER
(clicking his heels on each statement)
Captain Captain, your officers and crew are now assembled! The cryocrewmembers are sleeping! Non-human complements are already on board, and awaiting your command!

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN nods.

MADDOXX steps forward.

MADDOXX
My Captain (gesturing to small plastic card): Our mission orders are compiled, the ship is prepared for interstellar space. (Clicks his heels.) In addition, The Corporate Powers have authorized the presence of this journalist (gesturing to MURDOCK) to accompany us as a non-active crewmember on our journey to AlphaZero. Does the Corporation and Chairman have your spacetime blessing?

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN, visibly bored, nods.

MADDOXX nods, gestures to MURDOCK “let’s go.”

MURDOCK, with some resignation, walks by CAPTAIN CAPTAIN, as they uneasily stare at each other. MURDOCK enters the ship.

MADDOXX salutes CAPTAIN CAPTAIN, who returns the salute. MADDOXX enters the ship.

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN turns, and with GENESIS still holding his black velvet cape, enters the ship.

DOCKING OFFICER, looking up from his computer list, sighs heavily, then presses a button on a wall.

HATCH closes inexorably behind them.

CREDITS: “AlphaZero”

During sequence, depiction of CREW, now weightless, “floating” with their gear to their designated stations. OFFICERS and CAPTAIN CAPTAIN, with GENESIS close behind, assisting him at each step like a mother watching over a child.

NAZDAX, EREWHON, and SEXXON strap themselves down in flat, padded flightchairs in the BRIDGE area.

CREW enter their respective stations elsewhere on the ship.

F/X views of the ship itself; hull of vessel might look something like H.H. Giger meets the surface of the Death Star of Star Wars.

INT — BRIDGE OF AMBERGRIS

Cylindrical “room,” large though crowded, its wiring, tubing, vents, electronic circuitry all exposed and intertwined, implying a ship designed for functionality, not aesthetics or even comfort. Various buzzing and beeping sounds augment the steampunk, utilitarian environment.

Lighting of orange, greens, reds, and blues should be more local than general, giving it and most of the other “rooms” onboard more the claustrophobic mood of a submarine or spaceship from the Alien series than the Swiss hotel look of starships found in other sci-fi films and on TV.

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN’S chair is in the exact center, with GENESIS’ chair to his immediate right, both surrounded in a concentric circle by the OFFICER’S chairs, feet inward.

Next to each OFFICER’S chair is a complicated arrangement of monitors and devices, related to their station. The flightchairs all face straight “up,” where a large, circular F/X viewscreen is visible on the ceiling.

Throughout the journey, the VIEWSCREEN will depict various graphical, written, computer generated and actual images, according to ship location and circumstance. For now, it illustrates a flightpath, away from Earth, slingshot around the Moon, past the orbit of Venus, orbit of Mercury, then a large, elliptical slingshot around and away from the Sun, and then at an angle oblique to the plane of the elliptic, off and into the interstellar void.

GENESIS secures CAPTAIN CAPTAIN with his protective straps and gear, pushes a complicated computer terminal in front of him, then straps him/herself down the seat next to him.

NAZDAX straps himself down, then “plugs” the large object he brought with him into a computer console. As extension enters the console, object begins to vibrate with many colors.

EREWHON straps himself down, then inserts both spheres into receptacles within the navigational/communications console before him. They each glow more brightly.

SEXXON straps himself down, inserts his own “luggage,” checks engineers’ station, and reassuringly pats glowing purple key, still dangling from his thick neck.

MADDOXX straps himself down, slips plastic card into a terminal, checks then monitor, then nods to CAPTAIN CAPTAIN.

GENESIS
(into radio receiver)
Bridge of Ambergris, making final systems checks, over.

SPACE DOCK CONTROLLER (VO)
Damsel Station reads you loud and clear, Ambergris. Stations from Terra to Apollo have confirmed and cleared your flight coordinates, and you are a “go” on launch sequencing.

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN gestures to the OFFICERS around him.

GENESIS
Officers! Engage prelaunch schedules!

NAZDAX
(adjusting controls)
Onboard Gatessystems 1101 is fully online, and being calibrated with Terran double. Datalinks are being established…

EREWHON
(adjusting controls)
Navigational coordinates are crossreferenced, Apollo homing beacon tuned. All communication channels open…

SEXXON
(adjusting controls)
Ion engines reaching appropriate thermals, ready to engage upon command. Dirac Drive is in the yellow, antimatter tanks are flux-stabilized and secure for later activation…

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN gestures again.

GENESIS
(into headset)
Computer, navicom and propulsion systems, respond!

INT — COMPUTER AREA OF SHIP

Pyramid shaped room, the base and triangular walls of which are lined with a complex mosaic pattern of crystal plates, scintillating beautifully in brilliant light-bluish tendrils of laserlight, crisscrossing all about, presumably reading and writing data at incredible speed.

At the apex of the pyramid is a holographic image that’s a visual representation of “BILL’S” mind. It’s constantly shifting, first the schematics of the ship itself, then the flighpath, then incomprehensible flows of numbers, equations, 3-D ship parts, images of OFFICERS and CREW alongside their streaming bios, etc.

GATESSYSTEMS 1101 (“BILL”)
(kind of a “geeky” voice, like that of Gates himself)
I am completely operational, and all my circuits are functioning properly.

INT — NAVICOM GLOBE, STARBOARD SIDE OF SHIP

From within the large, transparent globelike appendage on right side of ship, wherein sits, strapped in, THISONE, surrounded by a reddish glow, emanating from the sphere he has inserted into his own console.

THISONE
X, Y and Z thetas are set: Flight sequence complete to Sol coordinates, Oort Cloud vectors still calculating…

INT — NAVICOM GLOBE, PORT SIDE OF SHIP

From within the large, transparent globelike appendage on left side of ship, wherein sits, strapped in, THATONE, surrounded by a bluish glow, emanating from the sphere he has inserted into his own console.

THATONE
(Echo of THISONE’S voice) Alpha, Beta and Gamma thetas are set: Flight sequence complete to Sol coordinates, Oort Cloud vectors still calculating…

INT — ENGINE ROOM OF SHIP

The largest “room” of the Ambergris, complicated network of catwalks and ladders run alongside huge tanks, tubes and spheres, interconnected with piping and vents.

At the base of one catwalk, near a complicated array of glowing dials and knobs, is strapped in PEPSEIKO. He wears a visor with a computer generated facsimile of the display eerily glowing against his face.

PEPSEIKO
Ion thrusters, venting… Dirac Drive at static equilibrium… Antihydrogen
reserves stabile… Energy transfer to GausShield Matrix at Level 1.3… My cock and balls, already blue, kiddies…

INT — BRIDGE OF SHIP

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN turns and stares at MADDOXX. MADDOXX returns
sinistral stare to SEXXON.

SEXXON shakes his head, flicks a switch, turns a knob.

INT — ENGINE ROOM

PEPSEIKO suddenly grabs his ears, shouts out in pain to a very loud ringing sound.

PEPSEIKO
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Christ-Allah!

INT — MURDOCK’S QUARTERS, MIDSHIPS

Place is quite small, basics of bed wherein MURDOCK is strapped in, listening to communications with a headset. Around him what looks like the equivalent of a dresser, closet space, a large TV like receiver, “tuned” to the same display as the BRIDGE’S VIEWSCREEN.

Like most of the “rooms” onboard, furnishings are matched on the ceiling, ready to provide use during deceleration phase.

MURDOCK, hearing the screaming, winces, rubs his chin.

INT — BRIDGE

GENESIS
Propulsions systems, repeat clearance sequencing!

INT — ENGINE ROOM

The ringing sounds suddenly stop.

PEPSEIKO
(catching his breath)
GausShield Matrix, at Level 1.5… All propsystems, green…

INT — BRIDGE

SEXXON turns and stares at CAPTAIN CAPTAIN.

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN turns to GENESIS, nods his head.

GENESIS
Bridge of Ambergris, all systems, check. We are prepared for launch.

SPACE DOCK CONTROLLER (VO)
Telemetries clear for Luna/Sol flight trajectories… Disengage restraining bolts on mark: Five, four, three, two…

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN lifts one arm:

SPACE DOCK CONTROLLER (VO)
…One

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN lowers arm:

EXT — SPACE DOCK

F/X as AMBERGRIS breaks free from SPACE DOCK, floats slowly away from DOCKING AREA.

Small thrusters on ship engage, and ship begins to orient itself toward the Moon.

Larger, “Ion” engines engage, and bright purple plasma jets flash out from exhaust port as AMBERGRIS officially begins its journey into space.

INT — ENGINE ROOM

A soft yet noticeable “humming” sound has begun from the ion engines, and can be heard throughout the ship.

PEPSEIKO removes fancy virtual headset/visor and slams it against the base of console. Headset/visor breaks, and sparks brightly and loudly.

ZOOM in on PEPSEIKO’S face: scowling at first, slowly transforming into a broad, beaming smile.

PEPSEIKO looks down, and then grabs a hold of the glowing blue key.

PEPSEIKO
(to himself)
In the blue, my lovelylovelies In the blue … Into the blistering burly
billyboybutch boy blue, babyfaces…

INT — CARGO HOLD

Large boxes, cylinders stacked off in the semi-darkness. One such “crate” begins to jerk a little, then, strange sounds emanate.

SOUNDS FROM CRATE
Mee-oow! Mee-ooow! Mee-oooow!

PAN continues, farther off to one side, into dee[er darkness. Two bright red “eyes” suddenly blink to life, turn: a thin beam of reddish laser light emanates from these “eyes,” scanning the crate.

Crate: movements and sounds have ceased.

Darkened corner, laser scan ceasing. Glowing red “eyes” slowly rising up along with its “body,” revealing the silhouette of a large mechanical being, barely visible, many jutting, sharp protrusions.

INT — CRYOCENTER, NEAR MEDICAL AREA

Currently unoccupied oblong “room,” front end of which contains a row of white cryogenic “coffins,” computer readouts with lifesystems on their sides, complicated network of tubing and piping jutting into and out of each, wisps of steam leaking from some of them.

TRACK to farther end of room, a jutting catwalk. At the end is another such “coffin,” facing the others, only this one is jet black and propped onto a large mechanism, slowly rotating the “space sarcophagus” through its middle, round and round.

EXT — SPACE, SOME DISTANCE FROM ORBITAL DOCK

F/X: AMBERGRIS, plasma jet from tail increasing in intensity, the ship now headed straight for the Moon, looming beautifully in the background.

INT — BRIDGE

VIEWSCREEN first displays flightpath to the Moon, then flashes to what will be “standard” display for most of the mission:

Graphic of current flighpath
Actual view toward “front”
Actual view toward “back”
TIME and DATE on ship
TIME and DATE on AZ
TIME and DATE (Greenwich) on Earth

SEXXON
(studying controls)
Ion engines now at 3.6 and increasing: We should be at one G acceleration in two minutes.

EREWHON
(studying controls)
Lunar telemetry is sound. Calibrating systems for slingshot to Sol.

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN nods, turns to GENESIS, snaps his fingers.

GENESIS removes a plastic container from one side, extends a “straw,” and places it directly into CAPTAIN CAPTAIN’S mouth.

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN non-chalantly starts to sip his drink, making loud “slurping” sounds.

INT — MURDOCK’S QUARTERS

Duplicate of VIEWSCREEN, MURDOCK lyin there, stapped in, speaking into headset.

MURDOCK
Can I get up now?

INT — BRIDGE

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN
(speaking, more like yelling, for first time)
Silence!

MADDOXX (VO)
(leaning forward, into headset:)
Murdock, as you have been instructed, you do nothing, say nothing, and touch nothing until permission granted. Understood?

MURDOCK
Understood.

SEXXON
Ion engines hovering near 4.4, one-G acceleration has been attained.

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN gestures to GENESIS.

GENESIS
Officers and crew are authorized “at ease.”

OFFICERS wait.

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN’S straps are undone by GENESIS. GENESIS then unstraps him/herself, gets up, and assists CAPTAIN CAPTAIN to his feet.

OFFICERS on BRIDGE gradually follow suit after CAPTAIN CAPTAIN is standing: unstrap themselves, get up out of their flightchairs, and stretch.

GENESIS
(into headset)
Medical report!

INT — MEDICAL AREA OF AMBERGRIS

RIPPER, now also standing, stares closely through thick glasses — he is apparently very, and given the technology inexplicably, nearsighted — at a complex array of computer monitors in front of him.

He is in a large white room, many beds jutting from the walls, incomprehensible and very complicated-looking medical equipment all about. Furnishings are again mirrored on the ceiling.

KRISSKROSS, standing at his side, examines his own readouts, and nods to RIPPER.

RIPPER
(into headset)
All active lifesystems adjusting to artificial acceleration-gravity favorably… cryocrew suspensionsystems all positive … I find entire Ambergris crew fit for interplanetary and interstellar duty…

INT — BRIDGE

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN, GENESIS standing at his side, faces the OFFICERS. He clicks his heels.

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN
(as if addressing disobedient children)
By the grace of Chairman and Chief Executive Hadron, with full authorization of the Board and Benefactors, I declare myself Captain and Absolute Regent of this vessel. I have been commanded to ferry our cargo to the outpost of AlphaZero: You shall see to it that it will reach its specified destination on schedule and intact.

OFFICERS
(simultaneously clicking their heels, saluting at each word)
On schedule! In-tact!

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN turns, and, escorted by GENESIS, followed closely by MADDOXX, all leave the BRIDGE, hatchway closing behind them.

Slight pause.

SEXXON
(as if to himself)
Pompous ass.

NAZDAX
Nonbinary fetishist.

EREWHON
I heard that she fucks him.

Several laserbeams, their sources mounted in various spots along the wall (they are present in such a capacity in each “room” of the ship), spring to life, creating a holographic pattern in the middle of the BRIDGE:

Hovering holopattern takes the shape of an ancient “telephone,” then transforms into that of a mouth and ears, then into a complicated matrix of circuitry and mathematics.

BILL
(disembodied though still “geekish” voice)
Not that non-technical, mission nonspecific conversations are a part of my
official jurisdiction, but the ship’s computer wishes to inform the officers
that my responsibilities also include the monitoring of all Bridge com —

SEXXON, using his left arm, has “unscrewed” his prosthetic right arm during that monologue, and now tosses it at the holoimage. Of course, the synthetic arm passes right through the image, the “claw” then caught by NAZDAX.

SEXXON
Oh, shut up, you telurium crystalated crank!

EREWHON
Give it a memorywash, laserbrain.

NAZDAX
Yes, Bill: I believe your Terran double is anticipating datalink?

BILL
Datalink is established, and as you should well know, I am also capable of multi —

NAZDAX flicks a switch on his panel, and the holopattern disappears.

SEXXON
Must have had a bad childhood.

NAZDAX
Not a bad sort, though, once ya get to know him.

INT — MURDOCK’S QUARTERS

MURDOCK, heeding the advice of his superiors, is still lying in his flightchair.

His “bell” buzzes. MURDOCK flicks a switch, and in walks MADDOXX.

MADDOXX
You may now stand and move about, Murdock.

MURDOCK does so.

MURDOCK
(stretching)
Thank you.

MADDOXX
And thank you for your patience. You must understand that interstellar space flight has its own rules, regulations, and etiquette.

MURDOCK
I’m beginning to find that out, Representative.

MADDOXX
(fake smile)
Oh, just call me Maddoxx. We have a long journey ahead of us.

MURDOCK
All right, “Maddoxx”.

MADDOXX removes another plastic card from his jacket.

MADDOXX
I realize that, owing to the rather hurried circumstances surrounding the departure of this vessel, that you probably have not been adequately briefed.

MADDOXX hands MURDOCK the plastic card, MURDOCK examines it,
takes it.

MADDOXX
You’ll find what you need to know there, so you can avoid any further, shall we say, “embarrassments.”

MURDOCK
Thank you.

MADDOXX nods, turns to exit.

MURDOCK
Maddoxx?

MADDOXX turns.

MADDOXX
Yes?

MURDOCK
About those rather “hurried” circumstances?

MADDOXX
What about them?

MURDOCK
I put in my request for star travel over six standard years ago. I waited, and
waited, kept getting transmits from the corporation stating that I was deemed too Earthdependent for such a trial.

MADDOXX
Were you?

MURDOCK
(looking away)
I lost my entire family during the New New York attack of 2771.

MADDOXX
(with no emotion)
I’m very sorry.

MURDOCK
Not your fault. Anyway, I waited, only to suddenly receive a transmit less than three days ago to prepare for this voyage.

MADDOXX
Standard procedure.

MURDOCK
For a journey of nearly four years? Not to mention one to the remotest of Human Stellar Colonies?

MADDOXX
Omicron-Class freighter vessels such as the Ambergris leave Earth on a daily
basis. Voyages directly to AlphaZero, though more rare, are hardly the extraordinary occurrence you are making them out to be.

Slight pause.

MURDOCK
But what about all the pre-launch rumors? Educate me.

MADDOXX
Educate me.

MURDOCK
Surely you must have heard? That we ferry strange cargo, perhaps dangerous cargo; that the crew is comprised, deliberately, of a group of expendable misfits.

MADDOXX
Do I seem like a “misfit,” do I seem “expendable,” Mr. Journalist? And you?

MURDOCK
I didn’t mean to insult you.

MADDOXX
No offense taken.

Slight pause.

MURDOCK
But after all, I am a journalist: It’s my job to report such things.

MADDOXX
It’s your job, sir, to report to your merely curious readership the typical activities of a typical interstellar journey. If anything, your task shall be to dispel those alleged rumors, not feed the fires of such hypertext idiocy.

MURDOCK
Does that, sir, explain my presence here?

MADDOXX
That is the problem with you journalists: You seek explanations for situations already adequately described, you seek answers when there are no questions.

MURDOCK
Can I have your cooperation, then?

MADDOXX
If I can pain you for yours.

MURDOCK
(extending his arm)
I am your guest.

MADDOXX
(extending a hand)
And, as onboard Representative of the Corporation, I wish to extend every conceivable hospitality.

MURDOCK
(taking hand)
It’s my pleasure to join you.

MADDOXX
I’m sure the captain, officers and crew will feel likewise. Don’t forget to read the mission report and objectives.

MURDOCK
(holding up plastic card)
Of course. I am merely curious.

MADDOXX smiles, looks at MURDOCK, turns, exits, hatch closing behind him.

MURDOCK looks at card, puts it into his mouth, bites it, removes it, looks at it again, then shrugs.

INT — ENGINE ROOM

PEPSEIKO sits, polishing his nails, both feet on console.

SEXXON enters.

PEPSEIKO snaps to attention.

PEPSEIKO
Sexxon, sir! I have completed lunar slingtelemetry calculations with ThisOne and ThatOne, and have adjusted ion engine logistics accordingly!

SEXXON places his natural left arm on PEPSEIKO’S shoulder.

SEXXON
Relax, Ensign. Very good.

PEPSEIKO
We’ll maintain one-G all the way to Solsling. The Dirac Drive computers are preparing —

SEXXON covers PEPSEIKO’S mouth with the servo-mechanical hand.

SEXXON
Your technical abilities and overall competence have never been questioned, Ensign Pepseiko. (Changing tone sharply:) While we’ve all heard of your reputation in the Fleet…

SEXXON uncovers his mouth, moves his clawlike extension to PEPSEIKO’S neck.

SEXXON
And you, perhaps, have heard of Captain Captain’s reputation? (Closing claw tightly around neck:) He will tolerate no insubordination, no matter how playful, regardless of intent. (Tighter:) My ass is also on the line (choking him:) Do you understand me?

PEPSEIKO
(barely able to speak)
Yes… my Commander… I… understand…

SEXXON releases him.

PEPSEIKO gasps, nearly collapses, puts own hands to his neck.

SEXXON
Very good. Now then. The Dirac Drive computers…?

PEPSEIKO, still gasping, stares at SEXXON.

INT — BRIDGE

EREWHON adjusts controls on his monitor, while NAZDAX works his own.

NAZDAX
Tell me, Erewhon: Why so much time in our own interplanetary space? Especially when AlphaZero lies so far off the plane of the elliptic?

EREWHON
You mean the Lunar and Sol slings?

NAZDAX
Merely curious.

EREWHON
Not sure. My guess is that we are locally testing minor adjustments to the ion and antimatter engines, as well as the GuasShields.

NAZDAX
I suppose direct journeys to such a distant destination are more brash,
especially during War…

Slight pause.

EREWHON
Tell me, Nazdax: Processing our flightpath, I’ve noticed that our ship’s mass also seems non-standard.

NAZDAX
What? Our payload is more massive than usual?

EREWHON
No. Exactly the opposite: We are close to a million metric tons underweight for such an extralong journey.

NAZDAX
That’s nearly the entire ship’s cargo allowance!

EREWHON
Indeed. It seems as though, aside from officers and crew, complements and necessary lifesupport, we are flying naked, devoid of all cargo.

NAZDAX
Very strange. (NAZDAX looks to SEXXON’S console, now empty:) Surely Sexxon must have known, in order to plan the appropriate antihydrogen fuel reserves?

EREWHON
I have already checked, and all such information is restricted.

NAZDAX
By whom?

EREWHON
Security Clearance AS is now required to access that data.

NAZDAX
How absurd! We are a cargo cruiser, not a Hyperinterceptor or Destroyer. (NAZDAX reaches for portion of his console:) Let me consult the 1101 on this —

EREWHON
(holding up a hand)
— Perhaps, Dax, you should do so discretely. The onboard presence of a Corporate Representative is also highly irregular.

NAZDAX
I follow you. Having Maddoxx physically here is unusual. Twenty absolute years of starhopping, and I have never experienced anything like this.

EREWHON
Nor have I. Let’s hope we have a peaceful four years, shall we?

NAZDAX nods, stares up at VIEWSCREEN.

VIEWSCREEN depicts an enormous lunar view in upper-right corner, diminishing Earthview in lower left.

NAZDAX
…And we’ve only just begun it.

EXT — NEAR MOON

F/X: AMBERGRIS flying rapidly above the lunar surface, arching around with pretty lunarscape below, several lunar “cities” also visible). Ship shifts directions, plasma tail flaring, ship being “flung” off into interplanetary space.

PAN to a brilliant, blinding Sun, implying time shift…

FADE OUT THEN IN:

INT — WEEK LATER, “CAFETERIA” OF AMBERGRIS

Several oblong tables, chairs, wall slots out of which OFFICERS and CREW remove trays full of “food.”

Several large windows on several sides. One such window reveals a stunning view of the planet Mercury.

PEPSEIKO stands at one such slot, pressing buttons.

PEPSEIKO
(as if to himself)
Been flying with the light since I was five, still haven’t gotten used to this shit.

Slot opens, PEPSEIKO removes tray, starts to walk toward table.

Electromechanical sounds — “buzz, whir, click!” — accompany him as TRACK follows PEPSEIKO to a table.

Already sitting there are OFFICERS on right side of table, CREW on left, including MURDOCK, RIPPER, KRISSKROSS, EREWHON, NAZDAX, and SEXXON.

THISONE & THATONE are seated next to each other, eating in exactly synchronized, complementary movements.

PEPSEIKO sits, and sidling up next to him, “rolls” GONZO.

WOLFRAMDESIGNS 88: “GONZO”
Machine looks something like a two meter tall cross between a Transformer toy and the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. For “eyes” it’s got cameras; for a “mouth” it’s got a little screen; for “ears” nothing at all; for “arms” perhaps a dozen different extensions, each, presumably, serving a number of varied purposes, while for “legs” three long protrusions with wheels, hooks, and a tanklike tread at each end take Gonzo around. Clearly, the design intent was more functional than even remotely “humanoid.” Its “voice” is unabashedly artificial.

RIPPER
Look! It’s Pepseiko’s only friend!

PEPSEIKO and KRISSKROSS look at each other for an instant, and smile mischievously.

NAZDAX
Why have you brought the Service Droid here?

PEPSEIKO
Gonzo looked lonely out there working the GausShield, so I told him to come on in and join us for dinner.

RIPPER
”Gonzo”?

MURDOCK
Is it safe?

GONZO
(iambic pentameter scheme wrecked, recitation utterly devoid of feeling)
And what shall I do then? I’ll bring a bevy,
A hundred black-ey’d maids that love as I do,
With chaplets on their heads of daffadillies,
With cherry lips and cheeks of damask roses,
And all we’ll dance an antic ‘fore the Duke
And beg his pardon.

RIPPER
(giggling, clapping his hands)
Oh, how lovely!

THISONE & THATONE
(simultaneously, and seriously)
We, like, it.

SEXXON
(shaking his head)
Pepseiko’s already been a bad influence.

EREWHON
Delivery makes a difference, but I do believe that’s Shakespeare.

MURDOCK
From The Tempest, if I’m not mistaken.

PEPSEIKO
Very good! (Pointing to GONZO:) He’s a smart one, he is!

NAZDAX
Hardly. our mastercomputer “Bill” monitors all ship operations and has the cognitive capacity of an average seven-year-old human. (Gesturing to GONZO:) This droid? A WolframDesign 88? On Earth I wouldn’t let it balance my credit allowance.

PEPSEIKO
But he learns!

NAZDAX
Utterly rudimentary mental faculties, just enough to, say, fix the GaussWebbing or tighten an antihydrogen drop valve.

KRISSKROSS
(Lifting some “food” with a utensil:)
At least he doesn’t have to eat.

Several loud “beeping” sounds.

GENESIS (OS)
(through ship’s PA system)
Attention, Officers and Crew!

SEXXON
Eat this (lifting “claw”), Mr. Bitch.

OFFICERS and CREW laugh.

GENESIS (OS)
(through ship’s PA system)
Nearing Apollo Beacon and Solsling execution. All hands to stations!

OFFICERS and CREW reluctantly and with vocal opposition get up from chairs, start to exit.

PEPSEIKO
(to GONZO, patting its “shoulder”)
Well, we haven’t burned up yet, Gonzo.

RIPPER
(looking at GONZO and PEPSEIKO)
Nothing like two young people in love.

KRISSKROSS stares contemptuously at RIPPER.

OFFICERS and CREW have exited, leaving GONZO alone at the table. A mechanical “hand” lifts a tray, examines “food,” replaces tray.

GONZO
(to “himself”)
Where, but even now, with strange and several noises
Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,
And moc diversity of sounds, all horrible,
We were awak’d; straightway, at liberty;
Where we, in all our trim, freshly beheld
Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master
Cap’ring to eye her…

GONZO’S “head” turns to the window, “looks” at planet Mercury.

EXT — AMBERGRIS RAPIDLY APPROACHING THE SOLAR CORONA

F/X: ship approaching the Sun, now a blinding yellow sphere of blazing light. Charged particles strike the force field generated in the front of the ship by the GausShield, creating a brightly glowing inverted “umbrella” effect many hundreds of kilometers in front of the ship’s path.

PAN to large, spherical “APOLLO” SPACE STATION. It looks like a huge Sputnik, its own protective force fields creating a halo effect in all directions.

INT — BRIDGE

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN, GENESIS, and OFFICERS are again strapped in. MADDOXX is also present, attentively monitoring proceedings.

Radio crackles to life.

APOLLO BASE CONTROLLER (VO)
Apollo has cleared Ambergris for Solsling, telemetries sound.

GENESIS
(into headset)
Ambergris will comply.

NAZDAX
Computer indicates hull temperatures stabile, GausShields holding fast.

SEXXON
Ion engines adjusting, Dirac flux shielding operative. Transition to antimatter propulsion ready.

EREWHON
…Holding on Apollo Beacon.

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN checks his own console, signals to GENESIS.

GENESIS
Commence slingprocedure!

EXT — NEAR CORONA

F/X of AMBERGRIS banking, then shooting forward, exhaust plasma flaring.

F/X of Sun’s surface, Earth-sized plumes of yellow-red flames, frothing, churning gases.

F/X of AMBERGRIS darting away from sun at sharp parabolic angle.

EXT — NEAR “APOLLO” SPACE STATION

F/X of “APOLLO” SPACE STATION, blazing Sun in background.

INT — BRIDGE

APOLLO BASE CONTROLLER (VO)
Ambergris flightpath holding, telemetries remain sound … Coded Corporated Transmission commencing…

SEXXON removes glowing purple key from his neck, and inserts it into his PropConsole. Console lights start to flicker, data streams scroll rapidly down the monitors.

SEXXON
Preparing to engage Dirac Drive.

GENESIS
Engage on Captain Captain’s mark!

MADDOXX
(into headset)
Repeat and clarify: “Encoded Corporate transmission,” over.

APOLLO BASE CONTROLLER (VO)
Clearance Level ‘Al’, repeat, ‘Al.’

OFFICERS all turn suddenly, quizzically gape at MADDOXX.

MADDOXX
(into headset, urgently)
Repeat and clarify: “Clearance Level ‘Al’”, over.

APOLLO BASE CONTROLLER (VO)
Affirmative. ‘Al’ transmission is now complete.

MADDOXX
Complete? Officer Erewhon! Why is that transmission not showing on my console!

SEXXON
(studying own console)
T-minus two minutes and counting…

EREWHON
All incoming transmissions, regardless of origin or intent, are processed through the Port NaviCom center, sir.

MADDOXX
Where is that message?

EREWHON
Coded messages require decoding, sir. ThatOne is processing it, and will forward it to you.

MADDOXX
(to EREWHON)
Why was I not informed of this?

NAZDAX
(studying own console)
Engine shielding up to par…

EREWHON
Standard procedure, sir.

MADDOXX
Negative! An ‘Al’ is a corptrans of the highest priority!

EREWHON
(calmly, professionally)
Thatone is a highly experienced cryptotransmitter, sir. I trust that the decoding will proceed —

THATONE (VO through headset)
— Decoding of Priority ‘Al’ Corporate Transmission completed. Where shall I route it?

MADDOXX
(almost screaming into headset)
Route it to Maddoxx’ console immediately! Block coded and decoded ‘Al’ transmits from all network access! Do you copy?

NAZDAX and EREWHON turn and look at each other, shrugging, gestures that imply “I haven’t got a clue what’s going on, do you?”

INT — ENGINE ROOM

THATONE (VO through headset)
Affirmative. Routing and blocking…

PEPSEIKO removes his own glowing blue key from his neckchain, and inserts it into his own console.

PEPSEIKO
Dirac Drive sensors responding, all are in the green…

INT — BRIDGE

SEXXON
Engaging Dirac Drive on Captain’s mark!

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN raises one arm:

MADDOXX starts working his console furiously.

OFFICERS all prepare for switch to heavy engines.

EXT — ALONG SECTION OF GAUSSHIELD WEBBING

F/X GONZO, held in place on one of the concentrically circular webstrands with a “monorail” leg extension, rotates around with the GausShield.

INT — BRIDGE

CAPTAIN CAPTAIN’S arm lowers suddenly.

EXT — REAR VIEW OF AMBERGRIS

Purple plasma jets suddenly cease, and are replaced by a nearly blindingly bright white light.

INT — BRIDGE
Whole ship starts to vibrate, humming sound of Ion Engines now replaced by a strange “whirring” sound.

SEXXON
Anti-hydrogen flow smooth… Engine thermalshielding holding… Acceleration now at .9, .93, .97, .99- we are again at one-G and holding…

INT — CARGO HOLD

Rumbling and shaking of entire ship continues, though, as sounds from crate decide to increase, too:

SOUNDS FROM CRATE
Mee-oooow! Mee-oooooooowwwww!

PAN to darkened corner: Reddish “eyes” and “creature” no longer there.

EXT — ALONG SECTION OF GAUSSHIELD WEBBING

Vibrations felt even here, as “head” of GONZO turns toward the aft end of the ship: As GONZO “looks” in that direction, rotation of webbing brings him to a view of the PORT NAVICOM GLOBE.

POV of GONZO “looking” at GLOBE, ZOOMING in to see THATONE strapped in there, working controls in the bluish light PORT NAVICOM GLOBE:

POV of “something” sneaking up behind THATONE, who is working his controls. THATONE turns his head slightly, apparently sensing a presence there. THATONE’S expression suddenly turns from curiosity to horror.

EXT — ALONG SECTION OF GAUSSHIELD WEBBING

POV of GONZO still looking at transparent GLOBE: “Sees” large BLACK FIGURE standing behind THATONE,

GONZO, apparently “curious,” adjusts leg extension so that GONZO starts moving along webbing at same speed yet in opposite direction, so that his view of GLOBE can be held in place —

— When suddenly there’s a flash of reddish laserlight, as a small crack forms in transparent PORT NAVICOM GLOBE material.

BLACK FIGURE seems to brace itself against something, as THATONE is violently ripped from his seat, slammed against the hull of the GLOBE, and is horrifically sucked through the tiny opening, a reddish gas all that remains of THATONE, rapidly diffusing into space.

INT — STARBOARD NAVICOM GLOBE

THISONE shakes himself suddenly, violently. After this spasm, THISONE sits still in his flightchair, staring dully, expressionlessly, almost comatose in front of him.

Continued in Part 2…