Dreamsongs. Volume II
Page 16
Not his. Never his. Pretending. Watching. Listening. Knowing.
TOM
Learning…
CAT
Waiting. Long waiting. Then taking, running, killing.
TOM
Cat, who did you kill?
CAT
Darklord. Master.
TOM
You learned their secrets, stole the weapon, and escaped through a door, didn’t you?
Cat NODS slowly. Cameron looks at Trager.
CAMERON
What the hell is he talking about?
Trager does not reply. He’s listening, intent.
TOM
One last question, Cat.
(beat)
How many fingers do the darklords have?
Cat does not respond. Tom holds up a hand in front of her face, his fingers spread wide.
TOM
If this was a darklord’s hand, how many fingers would you count?
TIGHT ON CAT—ANGLE THROUGH TOM’S FINGERS
Long hesitation. Finally Cat raises her hand, touching each of Tom’s fingers as she counts, SLOWLY.
CAT
One. Two. Three. Four.
(beat)
Five.
“Five” is the thumb. There’s a long beat. Cat is still staring at the hand, seeing something else, remembering. Just when we think she’s done, her finger moves over PAST Tom’s thumb, counting a “finger” that is not there.
CAT
Six.
Now she is done. Tom closes his fingers into a FIST. In the strained silence that follows that moment, we
FADE OUT
END OF ACT II
ACT III
FADE IN
INT.—TRAGER’S OFFICE—NEAR DAWN
Trager leans forward, presses his intercom.
TRAGER
Griggs, summon the matron, and tell Matsumoto to prepare an injection of pentathol.
(to Tom)
Bring her out of it.
Trager heads for the door. Tom bolts after him.
TOM
You can’t.
Trager EXITS, followed by Tom. Cameron remains with Cat.
CUT TO
INT.—CORRIDOR—CONTINUOUS
Tom catches Trager by the shoulder, spins him around.
TOM
What do you want from her?
TRAGER
A story that makes sense.
Matsumoto comes up to them in the hall. He’s carrying an instrument case. Tom is still intent on Trager.
TOM
You refuse to see the truth when it’s right in front of your face. How many fingers, Trager?
Tom holds up both hands, fingers spread.
TRAGER
What is it with you and fingers?
TOM
I learned to count on my fingers. So did you. It’s universal. We have ten fingers, so we count in units of ten. One hundred is ten times ten. One thousand is ten times ten times ten.
TRAGER
What’s your point?
TOM
That gun you took from Cat. Matsumoto said the magazines hold one hundred forty-four rounds. Didn’t that strike you as an odd number?
In b.g., the matron approaches down the hall, FANNING herself.
TRAGER
Maybe.
TOM
Twelve times twelve is one hundred forty-four.
Matsumoto gets it, even if Trager does not.
MATSUMOTO
Base twelve mathematics. Of course.
TOM
A race with twelve fingers would count in twelves, Trager. How much evidence do you need? Face it. That woman in there is not a twentieth-century American.
TRAGER
What are you saying, that she came down from another planet?
MATSUMOTO
Not likely. We’ve run DNA samples. Her genetic structure is completely human.
TOM
She told you where she came from. Earth. But not our Earth.
MATSUMOTO
A parallel world?
TOM
Exactly.
The matron reaches them and stands fanning herself.
TRAGER
Excuse me?
MATSUMOTO
A neighbor universe. Certain mathematicians have theorized about the existence of…well, a layman would call them other dimensions. The proofs suggest that an infinite number of these other timelines may co-exist with our own.
TRAGER
What the hell is a timeline?
TOM
Remember the last World Series?
TRAGER
The Braves lost in seven. Cameron was out a week’s pay.
TOM
Let me borrow that.
(grabs fan)
What if there was another world where the Braves won? Look, we think of history as a straight line. Past leads to present.
He holds up the fan, folded: a straight line.
TOM
But if more than one result is possible…maybe they both happen. New worlds are created at each nexus.
Tom unfolds the fan, just one notch. Now one red fold and one black diverge from the axis pin.
TOM
So you have one world where the Braves won and one world where the Twins won.
(opens the fan more)
Then you have the world where the Pirates and the Bluejays played instead.
TOM
(still spreading)
The world where the Dodgers won the pennant. The world where the Dodgers are still in Brooklyn. The world where baseball was never invented and everybody bets on cricket in October.
(the fan spreads wide)
An infinite number of worlds, embracing all the possibilities, all the alternatives. Not a universe. A multiverse.
Trager looks at the fan, then at Matsumoto.
TRAGER
And these other worlds exist?
MATSUMOTO
The math would seem to suggest that. Travel between universes, however, is flatly impossible.
(shrugs)
In any case, it’s all theory.
Trager scowls, takes the fan from Tom, folds it up.
TRAGER
Theory.
(beat)
Here’s a fact, Dr. Lake. I’m sorry I ever involved you in this matter. It’s time you went home. I’ll arrange transport.
(to matron)
Take her to a holding cell.
TOM
Trager, wait…
Tom GRASPS Trager by the arm, holds him for a moment.
TOM
At least give me a few moments alone with her. I want to say good-bye.
ECU—TOM’S OTHER HAND
While one hand is clutching Trager’s arm, the other is dipping into his pocket and lifting his wallet
RESUME
as Trager, unsuspecting, NODS his assent.
TRAGER
Five minutes. No more.
Trager walks off with Matsumoto. Tom artfully conceals the wallet he’s lifted.
CUT TO
INT.—TRAGER’S OFFICE—CONTINUOUS
Tom re-enters Trager’s office. Cat is still in her trance. Cameron is playing with his rubber band again.
TOM
Trager wants you.
CAMERON
(hesitant)
Who’s going to watch her?
TOM
Watch her do what? Sleep?
Cameron shrugs, and EXITS. Tom LOCKS the office door behind him, sits beside Cat.
TOM
I’m going to count to five. When I reach five, you’ll wake, refreshed, relaxed, unafraid. But you’ll be very, very quiet. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Tom SNAPS his fingers. Cat’s eyes open. He puts a finger to her lips.
TOM
No talking. Just nod.
(she nods)
There’s another door, isn’t there? A door out. That’s where you want to go.
CAT
(softly)
&nb
sp; Time to go, Toe Mas. Leaving here now.
A long beat; Tom hesitates, his eyes search her face. He reaches a decision, with vast reluctance.
TOM
I’m probably going to regret this, but…watch the door, Cat. If anyone comes through, bite ’em.
Cat nods eagerly and scrambles to her feet. Tom moves to the wall safe. He fishes the security card from Trager’s wallet, inserts it into the slot, punches some buttons.
CUT TO
INT.—CORRIDOR—MOMENTS LATER
The matron waits by the door as Cameron and Trager come striding up. Cameron tries the door. It’s locked.
CAMERON
Open up in there. What the hell you trying to pull?
Trager motions him aside.
TRAGER
Doctor, this is very stupid.
He takes out his keys, unlocks the door, and enters the office with Cameron right behind him.
TRAGER’S POV
He finds himself face-to-face with Tom…and the hand cannon. Cat is sliding the bracelet onto her arm. Trager keeps his cool.
TRAGER
You really don’t want to do this, Dr. Lake. If you fire that in here, you’ll kill all of us. Including your girlfriend.
TOM
She’s not my girlfriend. We need a car.
TRAGER
Shall I tell you how many felonies you’re committing?
TOM
I’d just as soon you didn’t, thanks. That limo will do fine.
TRAGER
Cameron, bring the limousine around to the front.
CUT TO
INT. ENTRANCE—DAWN—ANGLE OUT THE DOOR
Trager stands at the exit with Tom and Cat. All the other guards are face-down on the floor. Cameron pulls up in the limo.
TOM
Let her idle. Okay. Climb out nice and easy and back off. That’s it. A little more. Cat, make sure nobody’s hiding in the backseat.
Cat scrambles out to the limo, checks inside.
CAT
Not hiding, Toe Mas.
TOM
I didn’t plan this, Trager. It’s just happening. Don’t take it personally.
Trager just looks at him. Tom makes his break for it.
INT.—LIMOUSINE—CONTINUOUS
Tom jumps in and slams the door. Cat is squirming anxiously beside him in the passenger seat. He tosses the hand cannon into her lap as he revs the engine, pops the clutch, and takes off.
The limo speeds across the compound. Tom drives with his left hand, fumbles in his pocket with his right, pulls out three black cylinders. He tosses those at Cat too.
TOM
Here. See if you can figure out how to load the phut-boom.
Cat GRINS at him, and slides one of the cylinders into the weapon with an audible CLICK.
CAT
Hand cannon, Toe Mas. Hand cannon.
Then the high electrified fence and the guardhouse loom up in front of them. Tom floors it.
TOM
Hold on. I always wanted to see how fast one of these big mothers could go.
EXT.—DESERT BASE—CONTINUOUS
The guards leap out of the way as the limo CRASHES THROUGH the fence in a shower of SPARKS. They bring up their guns and FIRE as the car speeds off. To no effect…
INT.—LIMOUSINE—CONTINUOUS
Tom turns the wheel hard. The limo fishtails, turns, and roars off down the road. Tom risks a quick look at Cat.
TOM
You know, if you turn out to be a runaway from Boise, I’m gong to feel really stupid.
(smiles at Cat)
We’ll need to lose the limo soon. Every cop west of the Mississippi is going to be looking for it. Where are we going, anyway?
In answer, Cat lifts the bracelet, closes her hand into a fist. The insets GLOW BLUE once more. They are brightest when she points straight ahead: due east.
CAT
That way, Toe Mas.
Tom is impressed.
TOM
I guess you’re not from Boise after all.
DISSOLVE TO
EXT.—UNDERPASS—LATER THAT MORNING
Cat helps Tom roll the limo into a weed-choked underpass beneath the highway. It’s well hidden when they’re done.
TOM
That should do. They’ll find it eventually. By then we should be long gone.
CAT
(echoing)
Long gone.
She turns her hand up, opens her fingers. The HOLO appears; the WORLD in her hand. Tom is suitably astonished.
TOM
You know more tricks than Houdini.
TIGHT ON THE HOLO—TOM’S POV
The Earth turns slowly, a transparent ghost in brown and green and blue, but down in what we would call southern New Mexico, a WHITE LIGHT is FLASHING on and off.
CAT
There, Toe Mas. Long gone.
RESUME
as Tom studies the display, makes sense of it.
TOM
New Mexico. Eight hundred miles, at least. We can be there in a day.
Alien SYMBOLS crawl across the face of the globe. Cat understands them, even if Tom does not.
CAT
No good. Too late. Door opening, door closing. Quick quick. Be there sooner.
(glance at sun)
Before new light. Before…
(searching for word)
…before dawning.
TOM
Tomorrow at dawn? What happens if we don’t make it?
CAT
No door.
CUT TO
EXT.—HIGHWAY—DAY
Tom tries to hitch a ride. The traffic shoots past, ignoring him.
DISSOLVE TO
EXT.—HIGHWAY—LATER
Tom coaching Cat on how to hold her thumb.
DISSOLVE TO
EXT.—HIGHWAY—STILL LATER
A car pulls over to pick her up. The DRIVER grins when Cat slides into the passenger seat…until Tom appears from nowhere and gets in back.
DISSOLVE TO
EXT.—PICKUP TRUCK—SUNSET
Several rides and several hours later. Cat and Tom sit on a bale of HAY in the back of a battered pickup, bouncing down a rough dirt road. The sun is going down. Cat scans with the bracelet. The glow is BRIGHTER now.
TOM
It’s brighter.
CAT
Closer now.
Tom is in a pensive mood as he watches her scan.
TOM
Cat…do you know where this door is going to take you?
CAT
Someplace.
She sits beside Tom. The bracelet goes dark again.
TOM
Someplace worse, maybe. Can you come back?
CAT
No coming back.
TOM
The doors open only from one side, is that it?
(off her nod)
And you’d go through, not knowing what might wait on the other side?
CAT
Going through.
TOM
You might not like where you wind up, Cat.
CAT
Is always a next door, Toe Mas.
TOM
You can’t just keep running. What’s the point?
Cat FROWNS, puzzled. The point seems obvious to her. She notices the sunset: the gorgeous red and orange splendor of the evening sky. She points.
CAT
There.
Tom follows her finger, and seems to understand.
DISSOLVE TO
EXT.—ROADSIDE DINER—NIGHT
A big rig slows with a HISS of air brakes on a dark mountain road, Tom and Cat climb down from the cab in front of a roadside diner. The truck rolls on.
INT.—ROADSIDE DINER—CONTINUOUS
Tom parks Cat in a booth, slides in opposite her. It’s late. The place is almost deserted. Signs over the counter advertise Mexican food specials.
WAITRESS
What can I get you?
TOM
Let’s ha
ve a couple of the cheeseburgers.
CAT
Couple of cheeseburgers.
WAITRESS
You want four cheeseburgers?
In b.g., a COWBOY in jeans and denim shirt enters the diner and slides into a booth near the window.
TOM
(firmly)
Two. And two coffees.
CAT
Not knowing coffee.
TOM
Make that one coffee and one milk. You have a pay phone?
WAITRESS
Over by the men’s room.
She goes off to place the order. Tom gets up.
TOM
I’ll be right back. Don’t bite anything but the food.
Cat NODS. Her interest has been captured by a squeeze bottle of ketchup. She SNIFFS at it, squeezes a little on the back of her hand, tastes it, looks an inquiry at Tom.
CAT
Not knowing…
TOM
Ketchup. It’s a kind of Republican vegetable. Eat all you want.