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Back Word By M. Thomas Hastings 216 Tennyson Ave. Toms River, NJ 08753 212-773-6482 lizcrow@yahoo.com FADE IN: 0-5s White numbers Bogart a black screen: 0.000000000000001 ( 0 DISSOLVE TO: EXT. SPACE 6-25s A million galaxies of stars twinkle against darkness. 26-45s Fade in a WHOOSH (as if an explosion in reverse). The stars grow brighter. 46-1:30s Twinkling stops. The stars are white-hot points of light. WHOOSH builds. Slowly, the stars grow larger. They are moving toward us. 1:31-2:00 WHOOSH becomes a burning ROAR. Stars grow much larger. Huge flares in blue, green, orange arc out from the stars and leap into space. 2:01-2:30 One of the stars takes over entire field of vision, blasting unbearable white light. ROAR peaks volume. Swing to: 2:31-2:45 Side view of stars. They rush by, pushing God-sized pillars of flame ahead of them. ROAR falls off. Swing to: 2:46-3:00 Rear view of stars. The billion suns are each a point on a gigantic sphere. They speed toward the center. 3:01-4:00 Inside the star shower: stars falling together, colliding breaking off from each other enormous plumes of fire, rock, dust nuclear explosions and implosions 4:01-4:30 The stars collapse into one enormous fireball, which also implodes and shrinks down. Space folds in on itself. Jarringly loud FOLDING AND CRUNCHING sounds. 4:31-4:50 Space crunches down into a dark tetrahedron, barely visible, then folds in many more times in many different shapes. 4:51-5:00 Four final shapes slam into place: cube; pyramid; sphere, which shrinks to a point. Empty, black silence. CUE MUSIC - "A WHITER SHADE OF PALE," LOW VOLUME EXT. STATE COLLEGE, PENNSYLVANIA, ESTABLISHING SHOT - MORNING A lone, distant figure strolls along College Avenue in the frosty dawn. The trees are limned with ice. INT. ACCU-WEATHER, INC., THE HIVE! - MORNING A large, circular room. Frantically coursing with activity and reeking of stress. Across the top of one wall in faded blue lettering: THE HIVE! 30 men, forecasters by trade, all in their early 20's, dressed in jeans and sweatshirts, are: yelling into the phone, or yelling at their computers, or rolling on their chairs to view a satellite image posted on a huge cork board in the center of the room. Several radios play different music or talk shows or forecasts. Bobbing about the room are 4 forecaster assistants, hurriedly pinning the latest ream of data or images at various places, while the forecasters yell over the din to hurry the hell up. "A WHITER SHADE OF PALE" gets louder. The source of the song is a boombox on the desk of DREW. Some would call him Appalachian but most would just say redneck. Drew rocks to the music, taps on his computer monitor, writes numbers on a pad. Suddenly, a finger JAMS down on the Stop button of the boombox. TONY BASTARDI, great-looking, muscle-bound radio "personality" stands over Drew's desk. TONY I told you to turn that shit off! The room quiets to a murmur. Drew stands, wiry and pissed, and faces Tony. All eyes eagerly watch. DREW Back off, Bitchardi. That is classic rock! Tony looks at him as if Drew just grew a third eye. Tony looks around. Points at one of the forecaster assistants. TONY Hey, you! Doggy! MARS PAYNE (26) is a gangly oddball, a few degrees shy of handsome. He has protruding lower cuspids that make him look like he's constantly smiling, though that particular expression is rarely on his face. Mars weakly gestures "Me?" around the stack of papers he's holding. TONY Go get Elliott. Tell him to delay KLR and come help me with that asshole problem I told him about. Mars is paralyzed. Looks like he's about to heave. TONY What's the problem, doggy? DREW This is between you and me, Bastard. Drew steps up in Tony's face. Drew's shoulder length hair sways behind him. TONY (to Drew) I would love that, Jed. But see, I got this friend Elliott, who says that if there's a noise problem and the noise problem needs to be fired, he would come out and do it for me. Drew's eyes flash in anger. He slowly sits. DREW You suck, Bastardi. TONY That's what I thought. Tony struts off. TONY (CONT'D) Anybody else got a problem, just speak up now. I'm sure Elliott would be de-fucking-lighted to hear about it. Tony brushes past Mars, giving him a look that says "You're nothing." Mars stares back with his not-smile. A moment later, Tony tension gone, the room returns to buzzing activity. Drew puts the music back on, at a lower volume, and sticks up both middle fingers at Mars, who dejectedly continues posting papers. INT. MARS'S APARTMENT, FRONT ROOM - EVENING Mars's place is small, drab, a mess. One thing is well-ordered: his cd collection, which includes Rufus Wainwright II, Violent Femmes, Aimee Lennox. Eyes bloodshot from exhaustion, Mars types wicked-fast at a keyboard in front of his computer. On the screen, equations float in an illuminated 3-d grid. The equations appear to float signals, or results, to each other. Vx=6Hy4 is fed a theta from another equation. The Vx sucks in theta and then spits out gammaY to another equation down the grid, and so on. The Fpi from a certain equation seems to get stuck, and the screen jiggles as if the equation is choking on it. Mars hits a few keys and the equation spits out t0 = 14.7/2, which rolls along down the grid. Mars nods his head in agreement. t0 breaks off from the previous equation and hovers above a zero. This new ordinal turns red and flashes over and over. Mars speaks in a thick Southern Pennsylvania lilt. MARS Yeah, I know, you don't believe me. But there's gotta be an answer. He takes a swig from a 2-liter Code Red Mountain Dew. He sets down the bottle and taps two fingers on his forehead, eyes closed. MARS (CONT'D) Think. Think. START DREAM SEQUENCE CUE MUSIC: something haunting and repetitive On a large green lawn on a sunny morning somewhere, six-year old Mars runs around happily with his pretty mom. Young Mars is a cute boy. Bouncy, innocent. MOM I love you bigger than an airplane! MARS I love you bigger than a mountain! MOM I love you bigger than a house! MARS I love you bigger than a chicken! They laugh. Mom turns and grabs Mars and lifts him into a hug. MOM A chicken? You think I'm a chicken? They fall down together, laughing and hugging. Mom covers her mouth when she laughs. A cell phone RINGS. Mom breaks out of the hug and answers it. Mars watches, smiling. MOM What? Yes. No. Mom's look turns to concern. MOM Are you sure? It could be a mistake, right? Three doctors? But. But. Mom's eyes dart around. Tears up. MOM Oh, please, no. MARS Mommy, what's wrong? MOM No, please. Are you sure? Mom hangs up. Cries. Holds Mars. He is confused. They sway gently together. Mom lets go of Mars. Stops crying. Picks up the phone. She speaks now, unintelligibly. Becomes more calm. Smiles at Mars. Mars smiles. Mom puts down the phone. A very odd RINGING, as if through a tunnel. Mars and Mom hug. Laugh. They stand up and run backwards, LAUGHING as if through a tunnel, speaking unintelligibly. END DREAM SEQUENCE Mars snores loudly in his chair, head forward and to the side. A string of saliva hangs from the corner of his mouth. A knock on the door brings him to. MARS (groggy) It's open! Mars wakes, punches a few keys. The equations disappear, replaced by a porn site. In rushes Mars's best friend ALEX (24). Alex is Russian by birth, which is to say he's over his ideal weight, and he's amused and unfazed by most things American. ALEX (excitedly) I forgot to tell you. MARS What? ALEX You are going to like this. Let me sit. Alex sits at the computer. He gestures at the screen. ALEX What is this? Doesn't wait for an answer. Clicks off the porn site to "TrendMail Server" and types. On the screen: AUTHENTICATION REQUIRED PLEASE ENTER USER NAME AND PASSWORD Alex types the name Tbastardi@accu.com, then a password. The screen changes: FURTHER AUTHENTICATION REQUIRED ENTER DIRE PASSCODE ALEX I saw him in a chat room and I pretended I was "Gina," from Barcelona. Alex winks at Mars. Types. The screen obeys: FINAL AUTHENTICATION ENTER ANCILLARY ID Alex smiles broadly. His fingers are the Rockettes, dancing on the keys. MARS How did you know all these codes? ALEX It wasn't hard. His sign-off, broken up by tens. On the screen: "Inbox for Tony Bastardi." GIRL COMPUTER VOICE Hello, Sexy! Mars and Alex crack up. Mars covers his mouth with a hand. MARS Are you sure you should do this? ALEX After how he treats you? I am surprised you ask. Because he is the owner's son he can be an ass to everyone? MARS Couldn't he trace it? Alex waves off the question. ALEX Look, another one from this guy he met in Vancouver. It is like I said, Bastardi has a secret life. Alex opens an email from "Farrell_Ankopolous@UofOnt.ca.com". He reads mockingly, adding a few embellishments to the scrolling onscreen text. ALEX Dear Anthony. Barf. I am so excited you are interested in loop theory as well. We will surely have an "exchange" of ideas, as you said, when I visit "your" Penn State in March. Ugh. We originally thought the blue-shift spikes were an instrument error. Like you say, machines are never perfect, except for your ZX! Alex stops to stick his finger in his mouth to simulate gagging. Mars drops his amused look. He leans toward the screen and becomes intense. MARS No, stop. Keep going. ALEX All right, all right. Except for your ZX vomit barf. The recent upgrade to the SNAP satellite confirms an infitesimal, periodic blue pulse in the range of point oh four five picohertz, occurring at a period of etcetera etcetera. Mars grabs Alex by the arm and lifts him out of the chair. ALEX Hey, what are you... Mars jumps into the chair and continues where Alex left off. His voice rises. MARS There is still the possibility that the apparent shift is an instrument aberration that has been duplicated. (voice rising) However, the two satellites were manufactured in different facilities, in different countries, and 30 years apart, so it is unlikely. (rising) I look forward to seeing you in March. Mars nearly pounds the keys as he hits the "Reply" button and begins typing. ALEX What are you doing? Mars? Mars ignores him and speaks as he types. MARS What is the period of the wave? What is the pulse's intensity? How long has the shift been appearing and have any of the parameters changed over this time? What amplitude do you estimate for the first shift? Mars moves the mouse over the "Send" icon. Alex puts a hand on Mars's, stopping him. ALEX Hey. Slow down. Mars looks at his friend. Alex sees Mars's seriousness, makes a decision. ALEX (CONT'D) If you are going to do this, you need to make it look more "Bastard- ish". You know, "How off-un dud you see da wave? Wut is da wave's strongness?" A moment later, Mars has re-typed the email and hits the "Send" key. MARS Thanks, Alex. ALEX We shall see if you thank me later. EXT. PENN STATE CAMPUS - DAY On the steps of a classroom building is THE PREACHER, a pale, thin man who wears the rattiest jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. Storm clouds hang low. The preacher revels in the gloomy backdrop. THE PREACHER (referencing a bible) And the son of God will return to this Earth one day, and his return will signal the end of the world. Students mill about. As the preacher expounds, students shout out crude remarks. Mars leans against a wall on the outskirts, writing formulas on a pad. BUTCH FEMALE (shouting) You are a patriarchal tool! All the students laugh. Mars catches the eye of a beautiful woman walking alone, who is also laughing. She approaches. He looks around himself. She must be walking over to someone else. WOMAN Pretty funny, yes? Mars can't believe his luck. Incredible brown eyes. MARS Well, ok. Yes. WOMAN Does he always get this big a crowd? Thick chocolate hair. Perfect olive skin. MARS It's Thursday. Most people skip the guest speaker. WOMAN Oh, really? Do they? Jesus, what a body. What is that accent? European? Sexy is what it is. MARS Yeah, it's usually some visiting crank trying to sell his book. The preacher has made his way over to them. He gets in their faces. THE PREACHER And what about you, young whores? The woman looks at Mars out of the corner of her eye, amused. THE PREACHER Do you believe the Christ is returning to smite you? MARS Whatever you say. The preacher moves on to other sinners. The woman and Mars giggle. MARS I don't know what bible he uses, but it's sure not the King James edition. He still can't believe she's talking to him. She glances at his pad. WOMAN What are you working on? MARS (embarrassed) This? Oh, nothing. Physics. WOMAN Oh, really? Well, then. She looks at her watch. WOMAN You might want to hear today's guest speaker. I'll be talking about loop quantum effects in heavy gravity. Mars's jaw drops. MARS Um. I didn't mean. She walks off. WOMAN See ya! MARS I'm not a. She is gone. MARS Student. INT. ACADEMIC OFFICE -- DAY PROFESSOR SAMUEL WISE, tweed by profession, sits impassively at his desk (of course it's mahogany), listening to: MARS The waves then reverse, V of theta uperts, and no one notices the difference. Mars looks strung out. He bites his nails while nervously shuffling a pile of handwritten notes. SAMUEL And this is all, assuming a Hawking series, what does it mean? Why the residual value? MARS Residuals occur because the event is so strong that it. (struggling) It. SAMUEL You don't know. MARS Well. Samuel leans forward. SAMUEL Mars, can I ask you a personal question? MARS No. Samuel smiles. SAMUEL Why did you leave? MARS Leave? I didn't. SAMUEL The Registrar said it was "for personal reasons." MARS Ok. Well, yes. Personal reasons. Samuel searches Mars's eyes. He won't open up. Samuel clears his throat. SAMUEL Ok. Well. Your residual problem. Let's just leave that to the side for now. Assuming this is a series, what does it mean? If we don't feel anything, don't notice it, nothing changes, then I don't see the problem. MARS I'm not sure there is a problem. I guess not. I don't have all the data yet. Samuel gets up to escort Mars out. Mars is surprised. SAMUEL It's very interesting, Mars. Let me know if anything else shows up. MARS But, don't you want to chart this out? SAMUEL Come back when you have the data to talk about the residual. Mars gets up to go. Suddenly, he is sitting in the chair again. MARS But, don't you want to chart this out? SAMUEL Come back when you have the data to talk about the residual. INT. ACCU-WEATHER, INC., FA ROOM - DAY The FA (Forecaster Assistant) room is a medium-sized work area. The room hums with always-ringing phones and the clacking of a typeset banging out reams of data data data. Mars enters. Tony Bastardi is berating TODD (23), a tall, dark, good- looking forecaster assistant. TONY Some one a you fucks is going to jail, and if you don't tell me who did it, you'll go for obstruction of justice. And where's XRK? Todd scrambles at a printer. TODD Here. We just got it in. Tony snatches the paper from Todd. Glares at him for less than a moment with a mix of thanks and disgust. Heads for his radio booth. TODD The dailies are near the bottom, like you asked for. The LT is on 2. Tony is gone. Todd sighs. TODD Why does such a knuckle-dragging foo-el have to be in such a beautiful body? Mars walks to a satellite data relay and starts ripping off the next batch of data. MARS What's he going on about? TODD (amused) It's classic. Someone broke into his email and started talking with some girl he's been trying to bag. Mars stops ripping. MARS Girl? TODD (with sly smile) Yes, Mars, a girl. Why? It wasn't you, was it? Mars stares off. MARS A girl? Are you sure? TONY It was you! Tony bursts back in, coming at Mars. TONY You little freak! It's a good thing XRK delayed. Mars backs into the relay. TONY I'm gonna pry off your balls and make a Caesar salad, you little prick. Mars is afraid and confused at this odd threat. Tony is almost on top of him. MARS Sorry. TONY You got one chance to live, peckerface. You explain all this crap to me. You explain it now and I won't crush your nuts until you're done. INT. PERSONALITY BOOTH C - DAY Tony is seated in the tiny booth. Mars has barely a few inches to stand next to the microphone. His midsection is dangerously close to Tony's face. He is, in a word, not comfortable. TONY Bullshit! Bullshit bullshit bullshit. The end of the universe. Fuck that. Mars shrugs. Shifts uneasily. No arrangement of his body parts could be graceful here. TONY I don't know this shit. What the hell am I supposed to say? In Tony's hands: 15 scraps of paper with formulas all over both sides, splayed out like a deck of cards. TONY Shit. MARS Just tell her you need more data. Tony stands, raging. TONY You are going to fucking die! Mars tries to back up. Nowhere to go. A KNOCK on the small booth window jars Tony out of his abusive reverie. Through the window, Tony sees FARRELL ANKOPOULOS (28). It's the woman Mars saw on campus! A vision of dark softness. Gorgeous to a fault. She waves at Tony. Smiles. Mouths "Hi." Tony instantly transmogrifies into a charming, mannered host. Smiles. Waves. Mouths "Finishing up." He turns. Grabs Mars's elbow in a vise grip. TONY Stay here, doggy. Tony exits. Mars slowly approaches the window, sees HER. She turns to go with Tony, but JUST catches Mars's eye. A look of recognition, interest, a smile. His pupils dilate. Jaw slackens. Heart pumps. Fear awakens. INT. MARS'S APARTMENT, BEDROOM - EVENING Mars sits on his bed, on the phone. MARS Alex brought it over. No, I would have, but you never liked those violent movies. He is holding a framed picture. MARS It's good. Yes, I guess it is kind of exciting. You know how they do the forecasts? They all have windows over their desks. They stick their hands outside. He laughs. Nods. Looks at the picture softly. No, I'm not kidding. And to get the weather in Cleveland, they call their friend in Cleveland. No, really. Florida? It's always the same, so they just say "85 and sunny, chance of rain." He laughs. Holds the picture a little closer. No, well. You know, I could never replace you. The picture is visible now: young Mars and Mom from the dream. He in a baseball cap, holding her hand. MARS Well, there is somebody I met. I didn't really meet her yet. Well, yes she's pretty, I guess. No. No. Wait. No. (annoyed) No. Hold on. I don't want you to talk like that. Just play it straight. Yes, I know, but. Well, how much? Ok, yes, Mastercard. Five four two four, oh eight seven three. LOUD KNOCKING from the front door. TONY (O.S.) Hey! Uh, Mars! MARS (into phone) I have to go. Yes, I know. Sorry. INT. MARS'S APARTMENT, FRONT ROOM - EVENING Mars opens the door to find Tony and HER. Forget Tony. She's there. Dressed simply, refined. Nothing dazzling, but she'd look good in a potato sack. Mars stares, looks horrified. His canine teeth emerge like exclamation points. Tony tries on a fake familiarity. TONY Mars. Hey, how are you, buddy? Mars stares. Tony blusters through the door. TONY Hey, Mars, Farrell and I were just talking. Oh, have you met? This is Farrell. She reaches to shake Mars hand. Smiles warmly. Incredible almond eyes. The beam of an overhead light glows on them. Some of the light reflects brilliantly, some gets pulled into the depths. She speaks with that accent. FARRELL So pleased to meet you. Anthony speaks very highly of you. Mars looks down at that perfect hand, extended to him. He hesitates. Reaches out. MARS Ok. Tony puts an arm around Mars. Old buddies. Best of friends. He walks Mars into the front room. TONY Hey, you know what we were talking about with the Hawking frequency? MARS You mean the Hawking series? TONY Yeah, that's it. The Hawking series. That's what I meant. Refresh my memory, pal. What was the data I was looking for for that? Mars sits at the computer. Clicks to Tony's email. MARS You mean in that email you showed me? It was the amplitude and frequency of the blowback. TONY Yeah. The blowback. That's it. I wanted to know. Um. Tony is stopped by Farrell's look. Suspicious. Angry. The gig is up. He looks harshly at Mars. Turns red. TONY Oh, fuck it. Tony walks toward the door. FARRELL Tony, look. She reaches out, but he brushes past her. He slams the door behind him. INT. MARS'S APARTMENT, FRONT ROOM - EVENING Mars and Farrell sit next to each other at a table, writing formulas on notepads, paper towels, old bills. A slow, old punk song plays on his stereo. Mars picks up a Triscuit box, dumps the bag, tears the box and starts writing on the inside. MARS This is the expanded series. He has drawn a crooked line of data points, which generally move upward from left to right. FARRELL My god, you're right. She leans in, close, and begins to draw a line through the points. FARRELL Each shift varies from point oh oh three seconds up to. She squints at the series of dots on the paper. Mars is caught by her beauty. She catches him staring. MARS Sorry. She smiles. FARRELL For what? MARS (embarrassed) What? Oh. Nothing. The shift will vary up to five point eight two seconds, to now. But it will eventually grow. She's still smiling. Mars looks down. Backs up a bit. MARS So by the year three thousand, we will move backwards eight hours. Backwards, then forwards again. By four thousand, it will be ninety four hours. By five... FARRELL By five thousand, six hundred twenty two hours. By what year will we re-live our entire lives? MARS Twelve thousand four hundred fifty six. In the year twelve thousand four hundred fifty six, the shift will blow back more than ten thousand years. Farrell puts her hand on Mars's forearm. FARRELL And why, Mars, are you so determined to re-live your entire life? He's caught off guard. By her hand, her voice, the degree to which she has read him. He moves back a little. MARS No reason. I mean, I don't. She gives him a knowing look. MARS I don't. I don't know. Some things, I guess, might be better. In the past. He smiles a little. MARS How do you do that? FARRELL Do? What? MARS You don't let people lie. She laughs. A glorious, full, open sound. FARRELL I'm a Gypsy, you know. I use black magic. MARS A Gypsy? Really? She nods, smiling. MARS So you can lie, but other people can't. The mood is broken. She is pissed. MARS Wait. I'm sorry. I didn't mean. She ain't buying it. The phone RINGS. FARRELL I have to go. Gathering papers. MARS No. I'm sorry. The phone RINGS. She's all business. FARRELL Forget it. I'd really like to have you at the work group next week. RING. FARRELL Do you need to get that? MARS No. I'm sorry. FARRELL It's ok. Really. Call me if anything else comes up. She walks toward the door. The answering machine picks up. Mars's recorded voice announces: MARS (FILTER) This is Mars. Mars holds the door open for her to go. MARS I'm sorry. MARS (FILTER) I'm not here right now. FARRELL Goodbye, Mars. She leaves, hearing: MARS (FILTER) If you'd like to reach me, prove Fermat's Last Theorem. Otherwise, leave a message. Mars closes the door. Alone. MARS Shit. Out in the hallway, Farrell walks. Shakes her head. Smiles. EXT. PENN STATE CAMPUS - DAY The forecasters hate this kind of day. Sunny, warm, not a cloud in the sky. Mars and Alex stroll along a large grassy lawn. Hundreds of coeds work on their tans. Many other men stroll the lawn today. ALEX She wants you to present? You must be happy with that. MARS I guess. It's ok. The two single-file it through a group of 4 lovelies, who scowl at Alex's glances. After they pass through, Alex moves up close to Mars. ALEX How about them? MARS What? Them? ALEX Yes. How does she compare? Mars shrugs. MARS Not in the same league. He stares off, dreaming. ALEX Really? She is that ugly? They laugh. MARS You just gotta see her. That's all I can say. They continue walking. ALEX So in ten thousand years, you and I will get to see all these ladies again. MARS Twenty-thousand. That's about our odds with them, too. ALEX And you will get to repeat some other things as well. Alex puts a hand on Mars's shoulder. Mars's face goes blank. ALEX Is this your plan then? Mars breaks away. MARS Plan? There's no plan. I don't have any plan. You know, if it happens, it happens. I can't help it. ALEX Hey, hey. Ok. No plan. No problem. Let's just enjoy the weather. They pass a small bandshell. Onstage, mostly ignored, MADONNA (22) sings "Lucky Star." They continue walking, a little uneasy. MARS Hey, what about Sue? I thought you two were... ALEX Yes, yes, yes. Our little plan. We will marry in October when she gets her visa. But for today, I am free to enjoy the beach. Alex gestures at the sea of women. Mars stops walking. Stands deathly still. A look of ? fear? horror? awe? MARS (whispers) The beach? INT. STAFF MEETING ROOM - DAY A small classroom set aside for professors to shoot the shit. In the room are Farrell, Samuel Wise, and two other professors, sitting around a speaker phone. PHONE VOICE 1 It doesn't really prove anything about theta. It just means that we can't assume a scalar field. Mars bumbles through the door in a hurry and interrupts. MARS It's a wave. Oh. Sorry. Hi, Professor Wise. All look up, slightly annoyed. PHONE VOICE 1 Excuse me. What was that? SAMUEL Hello, Mars. (Leans towards phone) Jason, hold on a moment. Someone just walked in. Mars, these are my colleagues, Dr. Joseph Keckor and Dr. James McGillis. And on the phone are Professor Jason Newsham [PHONE VOICE 1], Dr. Mira York [PHONE VOICE 2] and Doren Maskowicz [PHONE VOICE 3]. Dr. Stephen Hawking is participating by telescreen. Distinguished colleagues, Mr. Mars Payne has joined us. MARS Did you say Stephen Hawking? Farrell attempts eye contact. Mars looks away, hiding bloodshot eyes. SAMUEL Yes, Mars. It seems your series was correct, and thanks to Farrell, the distinguished doctor has decided to join our humble group. (to phone) Jason, a proof won't take long after we get a few more shifts. Unfortunately, by then it will MARS It's a wave! All eyes on Mars. More annoyance. PHONE VOICE 2 OK, that's twice I've heard wave. Is that what I heard? SAMUEL Mars, what are you talking about? MARS It's a fractal wave, or the tail end of one. Mars pulls out a pile of Post-It notes from his pocket. He sees the stares from the table. FARRELL Why don't you use the whiteboard? Now eye contact, but he has no expression. Mars grabs a marker and draws an x-y axis. MARS Here's the blue shift. He draws a horizontal line, angling upward just above the x axis. MARS We're moving along in forward time for a while, then BAM. At regular intervals on the line, he shoots the marker down precipitously, then back up, as if a lie detector test stretched out. MARS We jerk backwards for a fraction of a millisecond, then we're moving forward again, correct? For the first time, Mars seems comfortable, a master of his environment. FARRELL That is how the data looks, yes. PHONE VOICE 3 Excuse me, did he just draw the Wise shift? Mars gives Samuel a burning look. SAMUEL (clearing his throat) Well, let's just call it the blue shift for now. Ok, Doren? Farrell is disgusted with Samuel. FARRELL Mars, what are you trying to show us here? MARS The blue shift seems to be growing, then getting smaller, expanding, contracting, but generally growing, kind of like a smoker whose lungs are shrinking and eventually collapses. PROFESSOR 2 AT TABLE The universe is dying. The Hawking series. Nods and "oks" from the room. MARS But there's something else going on. Worse than expected. Much worse. Mars draws an extrapolating line from the downward spikes up into the positive axis. MARS We can't see the entire blue shift from our frame of reference. We're living in the red shift, so any blue shift that happens during a time that is later part of the red shift... PROFESSOR 3 AT TABLE (realizing) We can't see it. MARS We're just seeing the tail end of a wave. PHONE VOICE 2 But then how do we see the blue shift at all? If the red shift covers the blue shift's tracks, as it were, then we shouldn't see any blue shift. MARS Yeah. Haven't figured that out yet. But we know we're looking at a fractal wave, because if you extrapolate each detection, each blue shift can be built from a similar smallest component. Mars draws tiny circles at the x axis of one spike, rectangles at another spike, triangles at a third. SAMUEL Then the backward shift would comprise a wave, of which we only see the smallest remnant. But what's the coefficient? Mars writes. MARS Different each time, but it averages to point nine three one. FARRELL Point nine three one, that's... Mars draws the extrapolated blue shift TIDAL WAVE on the whiteboard. MARS It's already hitting us. SAMUEL (writing on a pad) If you're right, then we're about (writing furiously) ten, eleven, um, twelve. MARS Eleven point six. PHONE VOICE 1 Eleven point six what? SAMUEL Eleven point six years from total collapse. All look at each other in fear and awe, realization dawning. PHONE VOICE 3 Excuse me, are we talking about the Big Crunch? Samuel is already at the telescreen that has been sitting idle. He hurriedly types in this message: Sam W: Stephen, we've just had a new idea come up. Someone suggested that the potential is much less stable than we thought and the observed blue shift is a remnant of a fractal wave with mean 0.93 co., which would put us at 11.6 years from the Big Crunch. Does that work at all for you? Samuel hits Enter. Farrell tries eye contact again with Mars. Their eyes lock. A look of serious understanding. Back on the telescreen: Hawk931: That's what I've been thinking. We've been missing the big picture. If this pans out, we'll have an 8 hour time reversal in about 3 months, then we'll have 264 years in about 6 months, and it gets much longer from there. Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you had some good times to look forward to. INT. MARS'S APARTMENT - DEAD OF NIGHT Mars is asleep at his computer. Phone rings. FARRELL (FILTER) I can't sleep. I need to see you. INT. STICKY BUNS COFFEEHOUSE - EARLY MORNING Mars and Farrell sit across from each other in a booth in this, the only 24-hour diner in town. Farrell is haggard. Still beautiful, of course, but haggard. FARRELL Do you think we'll feel it, Mars? Mars is struck again by her reading him, and by those eyes. MARS There's really no way to tell. All our experience is based on forward motion. Sound waves strike our eardrums. But they will be leaving our eardrums. Photons enter our cornea. They will be leaving. She searches his eyes for comfort. He doesn't give it. FARRELL So we won't feel - anything? MARS I just don't know. Maybe. Maybe we do. You've had déją vu before, right? FARRELL Déją vu? Yes. MARS Maybe we've already experienced it. Maybe the residual is that millisecond where we can feel the blue shift. She realizes. FARRELL That's it! Déją vu. Why didn't I think of it? MARS (teasing, comfort is back) I don't know. You are perfect, otherwise. They laugh. FARRELL So we do feel it in some way. Well, I will always enjoy our little time together. Mars gulps. MARS Really? With me? FARRELL Yes, with you. Is that so hard to believe? Mars takes a slurp of coffee. MARS Maybe this isn't such a good idea. FARRELL What do you mean? This is a good idea. We should be having as good a time as possible while we still can. She gives him a mischievous look. If he weren't sitting, he'd fall over. He can only stare at that beautiful woman. FARRELL Shouldn't we? MARS No. I think I should go. I have some things I want to work on. She is stunned. FARRELL What is it? Do you want me to help? He gets up. He wants her so bad. MARS No. I really can't. I need to do this myself. The residual. Sorry. FARRELL Let me help, Mars. Please. Tears well in her eyes. MARS No. It's not. You can't help. It's the residual. And division by zero. (attempting levity) I mean, is it infinity? Is it nothing? FARRELL I can help. MARS No. Really. It's ok. I need to. Bye. FARRELL But there's only so much time left. He leaves her at the table, tears streaming. ESTABLISHING SHOT, BELLE MEADE REST & REHABILITATION CENTER - DAY Mars walks up the steps. INT. PATIENT ROOM 139 - DAY Mars sits. Glances around warily at this innocuous room. An orderly comes in, walking an older woman. ORDERLY (cheerfully) Oh. Hello, Mars. So nice to see you. MARS Hi, Janet. ORDERLY Look, Mrs. Payne. You have a visitor. Your son Mars is here. At closer range, we see the once-pretty Mrs. Payne has a dazed look. MRS. PAYNE Son? I have a son? Hello, young man. ORDERLY It's your son, Mrs. Payne. Your son Mars. MRS. PAYNE You don't have to yell in my ear. Mars? What kind of a name is that? She looks him up and down. MARS Hi, mom. Remember me? Mars has the hopeful look of a six year old waiting for Santa. Mom searches her memory. Gives up. MRS. PAYNE I'm sorry. I'm just so tired. Could I lay down? The six year old just found out there is no Santa. INT. OFFICE - DAY Mars sits in front of an administrator's desk. A tough-looking older woman. Mars barely contains his fury. MARS Why didn't you call me? ADMINISTRATOR Now, Mars. You know we have state's consent to begin treatment whenever it's determined... MARS You told me that you would call. You gave me your "word." ADMINISTRATOR I know this is difficult for you. Your mother has been acting out lately. MARS Acting out? What the hell is that supposed to mean? You just, if you think she's acting out, you just. Mars presses his middle fingers to his temples. MARS Blast her!? That's my fucking mom. Mars's voice cracks on these words. Sobs. MARS My mom. The administrator stares blankly. ADMINISTRATOR I'm sorry, Mars. But she's not. And he knows it. ADMINISTRATOR Stop blaming yourself, Mars. Have you thought about therapy for yourself? Doctor Remauld said he would. MARS Leave me out of this! I'm going to the board. I don't care if they don't listen. I'll sit in their office until they throw you out. ADMINISTRATOR Now listen to me, you little shit! You go the board and I'll have you committed. You hear me? Don't think I can do it? I will. Mars stares, horrified. ADMINISTRATOR We do the best we can for your mother. We aren't some evil villains, waiting for the chance to electrocute people. We. Are here. To help. (calming herself) We took your mother in when no one else would. We set you up with a home, a job. For Christ's sake, Mars, we even bought you a car. Mars covers his face, head down. MARS I'm sorry. You're right. It's just. She doesn't remember me. ADMINISTRATOR What do you want me to do? Mars rocks back and forth. MARS (despondent) Nothing. If you could just call next time. ADMINISTRATOR Ok. I'll tell the staff. I'll put it on their checklist. This is the best thing for her. You know that, don't you? Mars nods. Gets up. MARS Thank you. EXT. BELLE MEADE REST & REHABILITATION CENTER - DAY Mars stands at the bottom of the steps, looking wistfully at the building. MARS I'm gonna see you soon, mom. This will all go away soon. INT. MARS'S APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Mars walks backward through his living room. Trips over a table and falls into a chair. He never was in a graceful state. Now he's in a different country. MARS Damn. He gets up again. Turns around, walks backwards to the KITCHEN He walks backwards to the refrigerator. Opens it. Grabs some milk. Holds it up to his mouth and pretends to vomit into it. He looks at the container. Smiles. The phone RINGS. He ignores it. Walks backwards to the LIVING ROOM The phone rings again. He picks up the remote control. MARS I wonder what I will watch last night. The phone rings. MARS (FILTER) Leave me a message, I'll listen to it yesterday. BEEP. FARRELL (O.S.) Mars, please pick up. Please. I think I found something. Division by zero. I have a friend who found something. Please, Mars. A pause. He glances at the phone. FARRELL (O.S.) (sadly) Call me. He smiles. BEEP. MARS (awkwardly) Itine sal chaw luewa I tawa rerdna I. EXT. CHINESE GARDEN - DAY An American-flavored Chinese restaurant on College Avenue. Mars walks in, backwards. INT. CHINESE GARDEN - DAY A hostess greets Mars. He turns to face her. MARS Ooya knath. Sishileed zuwa doof uth. The words come less awkwardly this time. The hostess smiles, not understanding. He holds up one finger. She understands. Seats him. A waiter arrives. WAITER Would you like the lunch special, sir? MARS Zgnache uth peek. Muklewa Eroya. The waiter waits. Mars smiles. WAITER Ok, one lunch special. A while later, Mars sits. Looks contentedly at his food. Which is untouched. At the front desk, the waiter whispers to the hostess. Points at Mars. The waiter stands at Mars's table. WAITER What's the matter? You don't like spicy? We still have to charge you. Mars smiles. MARS Zeelp lusheps chnul uth. The waiter picks up the check that's been sitting there. Flashes it at Mars. WAITER (agitated) You still have to pay. He puts the check back down directly in front of Mars. Mars shakes his head. MARS Teya derdero neevee tnevah I. Doora wowh. Mars gets up. Walks backwards to the exit. The manager appears, an angry older Asian man in a suit. MANAGER Hey, you have to pay your check. Mars brushes past him, backwards. The manager, waiter, hostess stare. Mars is placid. MARS Zeelp nuwa erof Lubate. He exits. MANAGER Damn Russians. EXT. STREET - DAY Mars gets into a car. Driver's seat. Smiles. Puts key into the ignition. MARS Nuf zuwa tath. He puts the car into Reverse. Looks straight ahead. Accelerates. INT. ACADEMIC OFFICE -- DAY Samuel Wise stands at his desk. Places a stack of books into a cardboard box. On the box in magic marker: MAINE. Farrell sits across from him. SAMUEL I can't answer that unless we open his file. FARRELL What do you think? Samuel picks up some framed photos from his desk. Places them in the box. SAMUEL He had a hard childhood. Things just caught up with him. FARRELL What do you mean, hard childhood? Samuel looks at her. Almost speaks. Stops. Then: SAMUEL I think you should ask him yourself. Perhaps you can get through to him. FARRELL Me? Perhaps. He's just so. Unusual. Samuel smiles. Puts on his tweed. SAMUEL Yes. He was my best student, for about two weeks. Then something happened, with his mother. FARRELL Yes. He told me. Samuel is surprised. SAMUEL Oh? So he does trust you. See? FARRELL It's such a pity. She died so young. SAMUEL Died? No no no. Is that what he told you? Mars's mother is quite well alive, though he may not think of her that way. Farrell is silenced. Samuel sees her pain. He moves around the desk. Helps her stand. As they exit: SAMUEL I have a friend in the Registrar's office. Perhaps he can help. INT. STATE COLLEGE PRISON - DAY Mars walks backwards around the perimeter of a holding pen. A few homeless, and other bottom of society types, watch him. Whisper. Point. A homeless man approaches him. HOMELESS MAN You really screwed up this time, Mr. President! The others laugh. Mars looks at him and smiles. Continues walking backwards. MARS Sengithun oot nurteer leewa ooya. The back words flow easily now. They laugh again, a little uncomfortably. The homeless man sits. Someone else, a born troublemaker with an open gash in his forearm, gets up and walks backwards, aping Mars. Sneers. TROUBLEMAKER (sing-song) I'm a freaking dickhead! Laughs from the peanut gallery. Even less comfortable. Mars ignores him. The troublemaker moves closer to Mars. Bumps into him. Pushes him. TROUBLEMAKER Hey, freak! This is my sidewalk! Mars stops and looks at him menacingly. MARS (loud, commanding) Rerveh rorf ooya tinaw leewa file kitathup rooya! Mars moves in close to him, looking creepy. He spits the words at the troublemaker. MARS (quickly) Sfal rerthum reroha rooya liwa, nahga dnah nahga ooya teeb liwa rerthahf neknuhrd rooya. The troublemaker isn't quite up to this game. His eyes dart around at the other prisoners. Back to Mars. CLANG. Footsteps. Three pairs. Scuffling. Troublemaker is relieved of his duty. The crowd focuses on the newcomer. GUARD 1 (O.S.) Come on, you son of a bitch! Into view come two guards dragging the very resistant PREACHER from on campus. GUARD 2 (shoving him while opening the pen) Fucker. Why you gotta resist every time? The preacher gets shoved inside. Door SLAMS. He jumps at the bars. THE PREACHER I am not a ward of the state! Jesus is my ward. He instantly kneels, signs the cross, folds his hands. THE PREACHER Dear God, forgive those evil molesting faggots for they do not know that you will return to crush their bones to powder. You will be avenged for their homosexual fornication. From behind the preacher: MARS Tuhlez Kitathup. The preacher stops. An odd smile comes over him. Looks around. Gets up. Commandingly. Searches the room for: THE PREACHER Who said that? MARS Own oot kila ooya Tinoowa? The preacher stops at Mars. Shoots his arm out like a flagpole, pointing. His index finger a quarter inch from Mars's face. THE PREACHER (shouts) SATAN! Just as quickly, the preacher is back on his knees. THE PREACHER (looking up, reverently) Oh, thank you, my Lord, for sending the spawn of Satan into our world. For just as prophesied, the dark angel has come into the world speaking the backward tongue and surely the end of days is now, and the Christ shall return, and this evil underlord will suffer your full wrath. He looks up at Mars. THE PREACHER I know your tricks, Satan. Your forked tongue cannot harm me. MARS Gninerurteer tsierk towba tire rooya tseel ta. Keeruf a my knith athe na. Sitting on a bench near the preacher, a burly guy with a Harley- Davidson tank top speaks up. BURLY GUY Hey, preacher. That guy ain't Satan. He's just some nutcase. Get off his back. THE PREACHER Go to hell. You have no power over him. BURLY GUY Now, preacher, you should watch your mouth. THE PREACHER (rising) That Spawn of Evil will pull your innards up through your throat and feed them to your homosexual father. BURLY GUY Hey! The preacher stands, unafraid. Burly guy does, too. They square off. THE PREACHER You don't believe me? That Satan has told me many times how he would torture you with sizzling pokers in your anus. He told me! Ask him yourself. Burly guy is burning mad. He glances at Mars. Gets curious. BURLY GUY (to Mars) Hey, weirdo. You didn't say that shit, did you? MARS Ooya thiwa rerthob tnidoowa I. BURLY GUY (to the preacher) What? What did he say? THE PREACHER He said he's going to slice open your whore mother and defecate into her heart! Burly guy approaches Mars. Others gather. BURLY GUY You better say you didn't say that. You better say that. Mars still looks menacing. MARS Loof a sih eha. THE PREACHER He says, "See you in hell, faggot." MARS Own. Gniyile Seeha. BURLY GUY No. I'll see you in hell. Burly guy punches Mars in the stomach. Mars goes down. Burly guy kicks him. MARS No. The others join in. Thrashing him. The pressure of the holding pen released in kicks and punches. No holding back. MARS No! Please, stop. They continue. Guys dance-kicking. Burly guy and Troublemaker give high-fives. Someone reaches down with a cigarette to burn Mars's shin. Laughing. Yelling. Smashing. Again and again. The preacher eyes the action lustily. Mars whimpers. INT. PRISON CELL -- NIGHT A smaller cell. Mars is alone. He nurses his wounds. Footsteps. GUARD 2 Mars Payne. The guard opens the cell door. GUARD 2 Come on. Mars limps out of the cell. Farrell rushes to him. Sees his wounds. FARRELL Oh my god. Mars. She puts her arms around him. He falls into her. No resistance. Both sob. GUARD 2 All right. All right. Let's go. INT. FARRELL'S APARTMENT - NIGHT Farrell helps Mars gingerly into her bed. He groans. His shirt is off. Bruises, scrapes. Not a bad body otherwise. She sits next to him. Applies a cold compress to an awful bruise on his shoulder. FARRELL (through tears) What were you doing driving a car? You could have killed that woman. He looks away. Winces. FARRELL The police said you resisted arrest. You were speaking some other language. He looks at her. Beauty weeping. MARS Thank you. FARRELL Oh, Mars. She embraces him. He winces. She sits back up. Sniffles. FARRELL You need to rest. INT. FARRELL'S APARTMENT - ALMOST DAWN The faintest glimmers of light glow on Mars sleeping. Next to him is Farrell, naked. A single beam of light crosses her face. She wakes. Looks at him. Love. She moves to him. Touches his hair. Kisses his cheek. His neck. His shoulder. He stirs. Another single beam of sunlight illuminates her. She continues kissing, moving down his chest. His breathing quickens. MARS (whisper) What are you doing? She keeps moving. FARRELL Shhhhh. A bright beam of sunlight shows his astonishment. INT. FARRELL'S APARTMENT - MORNING Mars and Farrell lay in bed, resting. Her head on his shoulder. MARS Why? She looks up at him. FARRELL Because I love you, Mars. She smiles at his wonderment. FARRELL And. I wanted to do it before you had a chance to think about it. To rationalize it. (playful) Would you rather I had not? Hell, no. MARS Oh, no. No. Of course not. I'm just. Amazed. He looks off. MARS I mean, if all I had to do to get laid was get beat up, I would have done it a long time ago. They laugh. Then, a long, loving kiss. He gazes into her eyes. In awe. MARS Do you really? What you said? She nods. FARRELL Yes, Mars. I do. I love you. MARS Wow. FARRELL It's not like I tried to, either. You're not really my type, you know. MARS No? FARRELL Believe it or not, I usually like jocks. The kind that don't care about... She nuzzles into him, giggling. FARRELL Fermat's Last Theorem. He laughs. A truly happy sound. She looks up at him. FARRELL And you? MARS No. Jocks aren't my type. Her eyes search his soul. FARRELL Do you too love me? MARS Me? Love you? FARRELL Yes. She waits. He gazes. Looks at her all over, then back to those eyes. Still she waits. A sadness comes over him. A struggle. The only sound is their breathing. He tears up. She does, too. Will she lose him right here? Slowly. So slowly it hurts, a look of happiness comes over him. Tears. He nods a little. Then more. Embraces her. MARS Yes. Yes, of course. I love you, Farrell. I love you more than anything. They kiss. Hug. MARS I love you more than anything. INT. ALEX'S APARTMENT - DAY A modest apartment. A woman's touch is apparent. Alex opens the front door and Mars rushes in. MARS I need your help. INT. ALEX'S APARTMENT, BEDROOM - DAY Alex sits at his computer desk. Three flat-panel screens display news items in 3 languages. MARS All I know is the group is called "Federal Science Administration." Something is different about Mars. A bit of a swagger. Alex types. Searching for the website. ALEX This name sounds harmless. What do they do? No website. Alex tries a Reuters search. MARS Rocket science, mostly. But they have an R&D group. Alex finds something. ALEX An R&D group that "analyzes, develops and protects government innovations." Innovations? Protects? Now they don't sound so harmless. MARS Can you get in? ALEX If you are talking about hacking their network, no. Those days are over for me, my friend. MARS Alex, those days are coming back to you unless you help me. They're coming back sooner than you think. I'm just going to borrow a few formulas. Alex considers this. Returns to his keyboard. Reaches deep under the table and draws out a small wireless keypad. And a Yankees cap, which he dons. All three screens go blank. Then, a voice: VOICE Begin sequence. Alex starts typing wildly at both the keypad and his keyboard. He stands, presses a button on the top of a nearby shelf. An oscillating blue grid comes into view on the center screen. On the left screen appears a strange character map. On the right a stream of data scrolls constantly. Alex continues rapid typing. ALEX So. You and what is her name? Farrah? MARS Farrell. ALEX Farrell. Yes. She is going to be your wife? MARS Whoa. Hold on there tiger. We've only been going out for two months. ALEX But you love her? MARS Well, yes. ALEX And she loves you? This we know. MARS Yes. ALEX So what is the problem? MARS It's complicated. Alex holds up a finger. ALEX Hold on. The grid stretches and bends into a missile shape. It rockets through tunnels, turning around passageways more quickly than the eye registers. Alex types furiously, guiding whatever it is on its journey. It moves out into an open area, then shoots down into more tunnels. Alex seems to jockey the strange horse. ALEX You said when you met the right girl you would marry her. MARS Up. Up. Up. Mars points at the screen. Alex makes the projectile shoot upwards past thousands of different colored grids. Into another open area. MARS There. Mars points at a large hole in the wall of a transparent orange grid. On the grid in red letters: FSA. Alex maneuvers his own grid onto the hole. Presses a series of buttons. Hits Enter. Alex's object slowly melts into the larger grid. MARS No time, now. To marry her. Alex looks suspicious. MARS I mean, how do I know if she's the right girl? It's not like someone came along and hit me in the head. Alex turns to look at him. Mars realizes. Laughs. MARS Oh, yeah. On screen: Data leak. Protection code R45. Ending transmission. ALEX Oh, no you don't. Alex whips around and starts typing again. He pulls a keypad down that hangs from a spring. Presses a button on it. The screen around his grid turns yellow. MARS Damn. You should work for these guys. Alex's grid pulses. Three times. On screen: Target acquired. The grid retreats, with some mean looking objects racing after it. But they lose it, and Alex's grid returns home. Alex jumps around, shutting down the system. MARS No trace? Alex hands Mars a cd. ALEX We shall see. I hope this is useful. INT. MARS'S APARTMENT - NIGHT Mars sits at the computer. Farrell works at the table. The place looks nicer than before. Her touch, no doubt. MARS It's amazing the crap they guard. Farrell is distracted. Not listening. MARS I mean, there's so many holes in this. Coefficients all off. They even use Heisenberg wrong. God. FARRELL I don't want to go back. MARS What? He senses her seriousness. She gestures at the piles of papers and books on the table. FARRELL All this. Gone. She looks at him sadly. FARRELL Gone. He goes to her. Stands her up. MARS Hey, it won't be so bad. You said it yourself. We should just make the best of this time we have now. FARRELL But, this time will end, Mars. I don't want it to. It will be as if we never were. MARS I know. Better to have loved and lost. He looks off. Thinking somewhere else. MARS It feels. Impossible. He holds her shoulders. Gazes into her eyes. MARS But maybe we can find something. Something here in these numbers that will help. FARRELL But Samuel said that the team looked at this. There's no singularity in this model. They said... She looks at him sadly. FARRELL You're kidding yourself. MARS Samuel said? You mean the author of the Wise shift? Look, Farrell. The wheels for division by zero just might work. We have to try. Every law has an exception. FARRELL How do you know this? MARS I know it. I didn't use to believe it. But now. He embraces her. MARS Now I know. INT. MARS'S APARTMENT - PRE-DAWN A single bird chirps. Mars wakes from a dead sleep. Wakes Farrell. MARS It's in Colorado. FARRELL How far is that? MARS Too far. It's in the Rocky Mountains. We'll never make it in time. Farrell hops up, puts on a shirt. MARS Come back to bed. We can't make it. FARRELL (pulls on pants) Gather whatever you need. I'll be back in a half hour. Mars sits up. MARS We won't make it. Farrell is dressed. She sits down next to him. Kisses him. FARRELL Trust your wife. She rushes off. He stares after her with his half-smile. MARS (under his breath) Wife? INT. MARS'S APARTMENT - MORNING Mars finishes packing a backpack. He picks up a large handmade walking stick. A KNOCK on the door. Mars opens it to find Farrell and Tony Bastardi. MARS Bastardi? Tony has the uncomfortable air of a jock in a Home Economics class. But without the jock buddy to snort and chuckle with. Farrell rushes in, grabs Mars arm. FARRELL Tony is going to help us. MARS Help? Tony looks at his watch. TONY We better move, Farrell. The tower will not let us go if we don't lift by six. EXT. UNIVERSITY PARK AIRPORT - MORNING The sun laughs off the dew in this lush meadow with a single airstrip. Several four to six seaters are taxiing or lifting off. INT. CESSNA SKYHAWK SP - MORNING Tony and Farrell sit in the front. He's checking off. Farrell leans back to Mars. Puts a hand on his knee. Smiles. FARRELL Don't worry. Tony said we should make it into Boulder by 12:30, if we refuel quickly. That should be plenty of time to get into the mountains. MARS Tell him thanks. FARRELL Tell him yourself. EXT. BOULDER MUNICIPAL AIRPORT - DAY Their plane lands. EXT. PARKING LOT - DAY Tony, Farrell and Mars pack their stuff into a Jeep. Tony opens the driver's side door. FARRELL Tony, we can take it from here. Mars stands back. TONY No thanks. He moves to get in. She stops him. FARRELL No, really. It's ok. We can do this. He breaks away from her. TONY I am going to inherit my father's business, and I am going to run it until the day I die. If you think I'm going to let that little freak, or you, screw this thing up, you're dead wrong. FARRELL But we don't even know what we are going to find. He gets in the Jeep. TONY Let's go! EXT. ESTES NATIONAL PARK - DAY The Jeep pulls into a lot where trails begin. The three get out, grab their things. EXT. ESTES NATIONAL PARK, TRAIL - DAY The gorgeous Rocky Mountains, in full bloom. The buzzing of the smallest insects and the songs of the birds backdrop the beauty. The three finish climbing a good sized hill. They come into a rocky clearing. Farrell sits, panting. Tony and Mars are 15 feet ahead. FARRELL I'm not used to this. Thin air. Tony notices a tiny black dot in the sky. TONY What the hell is that? Mars looks up. Then at his watch. MARS Shit! Farrell! Before she can react, the tiny dot expands, shoots down and becomes a gigantic coal-black cylinder that crashes down around Tony and Mars, enclosing them and shutting them off from Farrell and everything else. Farrell looks up in awe. The cylinder stretches up into the heavens. FARRELL The singularity. My god. He was right. She approaches it. Pulls out a hand-held tape recorder. It's less coal-black than it is colorless. Featureless. She notices the mountain has become silent. She picks up a stick. Touches the singularity with it. It glances off at a different angle. She puts the stick down. Touches it with her fingers. Then, with a hand. FARRELL (into recorder) The surface of the singularity is apparently frictionless. Her hand slides off, somehow pushed off the side of the object. She steps back quickly. Frightened. FARRELL It feels like some sort of negative field is rejecting any contact. She finds a rock. Pitches it hard at the thing. The rock makes no sound as it strikes the surface and falls off. It hits the ground with a thud. She walks to the right of the cylinder. FARRELL Symmetrical. She passes around the back. FARRELL Mars, can you hear me? She arrives again at the front. Studies it. FARRELL (whispers) Mars, are you in there? The cylinder looms silently, as if it were Death. FARRELL (whispers) I love you. She returns to where she was sitting before. Opens her backpack. Gets out a pad and markers. She stands directly before the singularity. Draws numbers in black on the notepad. Holds it up for Mars to see. Draws more numbers, this time red. Holds it up. Returns to the backpack. Gets out a bottled water and a sandwich. Holds the bottled water a few inches over her head. Squeezes it to pour into her mouth. Takes a bite of the sandwich. Exaggerates her chewing and swallowing. INT. SINGULARITY - DAY Mars and Tony see the black cylinder approach them from above. When the object surrounds them and crashes through the ground, it knocks them down. Tony recovers first. He helps Mars up. MARS Thanks. Thanks, Tony. Tony stares at Mars the way he looked at the redneck way back when. Then his look softens the tiniest bit. TONY Is this the? What you said would happen? Mars gets up. MARS I don't know. They look around. CUE EERIE REPETITIVE MUSIC The cylinder is not black to them but translucent. Some sort of sheer film borders it. Inside, the air moves at different speeds. A ray of sunlight from who knows where illuminates a pack of dust particles moving in slo-mo. Then a small sphere of particles within the dust particles whip up like a twister and shoot up beyond line of vision. The men move to the edge of the singularity. Encounter the frictionless surface. Farrell is clearly visible on the other side. Mars puts his hand up to the surface as she does. It gets pushed off, as does hers. END EERIE REPETITIVE MUSIC She steps back. Speaks. But no sound. Mars mouths to her "Don't worry. It's ok." TONY I can't hear. They follow Farrell as she moves around the perimeter. MARS It's not you. We won't be able to hear anything outside. The sound waves, I guess, don't make it. But the light. Mars notices a light beam coming from the outside, prismed into a rainbow on the inside. MARS The light makes its way in somehow. Farrell has arrived at the front again. Tony and Mars stand close, awed. Farrell mouths "I love you." Tony and Mars glance at each other. TONY Looks like you win. MARS Well, if it's any consolation. Tony stops him. TONY No. You win. Mars nods seriously. MARS Ok. Tony moves off. Pulls off his backpack. TONY May as well set up camp. How much time do we have here? MARS Eight hours forward. Eight hours back. Then the same eight hours forward again. Mars starts unpacking. He sets down his walking stick. TONY Sounds pretty damn boring. Got any pot? MARS No. Sorry. I guess we could try predicting the weather. Should be pretty interesting in here. Tony throws out a pup tent. TONY Hey, Mars. Not that we're friends or anything, or like I care, but quit saying you're goddamn sorry for everything. It's getting on my nerves. MARS Oh. Ok. S-. So did you bring anything? Tony has his pup tent up. TONY No. And if you don't mind, leave me alone. I've got a hangover. Tony goes into his tent. Mars is still fiddling with the supports. MID-AFTERNOON Mars sits on a makeshift seat with a pen and notebook. He opens the book, scrolls past pages and pages of formulas. Around the middle of the book he finds a blank page. He watches and smiles as Farrell does jumping jacks. She stands straight and falls forward into a pushup. Does 10 good fast ones. Mars takes notes. Farrell stands back up. She waves "Hi." Shrugs. She sits on a boulder. Takes out a book from her bag. Starts reading. SUNSET The sun is dappling, spitting bullets of light through the singularity that bounce around at various angles. Farrell rubs her shoulders. Cold. She gathers sticks. Piles them. She inserts a newspaper between the sticks. Pulls out a book of matches from a pocket. Lights the newspaper. Ash and flames slowly climb into the air. Mars looks at his watch. Looks back at Farrell, expectantly. She looks at her watch. She sits next to the fire. Waves. Blows a kiss to the singularity. Takes the kiss back. Waves again. Looks at her watch. CUE EERIE REPETITIVE MUSIC She stands up awkwardly and watches: The flames slowly lower into the sticks. Ashes fall into the pile, reassembling into the newspaper. Farrell reaches down to the newspaper with a match, which pulls the last bit of flame into it and unignites. She puts the matches into her pocket. Mars watches, drop-jawed. Farrell removes the newspaper, folds it. She picks up the bundle of sticks and walks around, places them back in different places on the ground. END EERIE REPETITIVE MUSIC Mars writes quickly, speaking. MARS V of theta has descended at the expected rate. Reverse time has begun. He watches in awe as the world outside marches backwards. MID-AFTERNOON The sun is backing its way towards noon. Farrell sits on the boulder, reading. Tony is up. Stretching. Mars watches Farrell for a minute. Yawns. Nods off. TONY What the hell is that? Mars jerks awake. Outside in the clearing, near Farrell, is a door-sized block of red flashing Christmas lights. Getting brighter as they flash, once per second. The lights don't seem to be connected to anything, or strung together. They just hang in the air, flashing. Farrell doesn't notice this distraction. Mars watches with intrigue. Brighter. Flash. Brighter. A blast of red light fills the air. Mars and Tony are momentarily blinded. They shake it off. Standing where the lights were is a figure. Dressed in a jumpsuit and goggles. Outfitted with some sort of climbing equipment. It takes off the goggles. In forward motion. It's Mars. But different. A little darker. A lot more muscular. Somehow - evil. EVIL MARS looks around. Spots Farrell. He smiles. Walks over to her. He moves as if in forward time. He unstraps two large metal climbing hooks from his belt. They are about a foot long each. He attaches a cord to the end of each one. Unstraps a black bread box and places it next to Farrell. Attaches the ends of the cords to the box. Mars looks on, very concerned. MARS No. TONY What's it doing? MARS I don't know. It's bad. Evil Mars plays with some knobs on the box. Picks up the hooks. TONY What the hell? MARS No! Evil Mars stands behind Farrell. He plunges the hooks deep into her shoulders. He shoves them down until about an inch of the hooks are still above her neck line. Farrell seems to feel the shock of these but reacts only with the slightest look of pain. She continues reading. TONY Motherfucker! MARS No! Tony runs toward her, is knocked on his ass by the singularity. Evil Mars adjusts the knobs on the breadbox. A reddish flow of light makes its way out of Farrell's shoulders, down the cords and into the breadbox. Mars helps Tony stand. They both stand at the edge of the singularity, watching in horror. Farrell puts down the book. Stands up. The slightest look of discomfort on her face. She waves at the singularity. Leans down and does ten pushups. The cords surge with red light. Evil Mars is pleased. She pushes off the ground into a standing position. Looks a little more tired, a little scared. Does jumping jacks, like a marionette. The cords surge again. Evil Mars turns his attention now to the singularity. He moves to it, touches it with his hand. Something strange about those hands, a little scaly. Mars screams and leaps at him. Is knocked back. Farrell stops the jumping jacks. Runs in place. She looks tired. Forced. Evil Mars extracts a pill from a pocket. Swallows it. Takes a deep breath. Marches into the singularity. Instead of being bounced back, his body throws off showers of sparks. He slowly melts into the wall. His features begin to emerge through on the inside. Tony runs to his tent. Mars backs into the rock he was sitting on. Trips backwards over it. Right next to his walking stick. Evil Mars is almost through. Tony stands directly in front of him. Cocks a .38 and aims it directly at its nose, point blank. Evil Mars fully emerges through the wall. Sees the gun at his nose. He puts his mouth over it. His huge jaw muscles tense. TONY I'll shoot, motherfucker! I will. Evil Mars bites down. CRUNCH as the gun is crushed in his teeth. Tony looks on, freaking. He drops the gun. Smashes Evil Mars with a knee to the groin. The blow would knock out any man. Evil Mars is unaffected. He grabs Tony by the shoulders, picks him up. Twirls him around. Examines the back of his neck. A look of "Aha." Evil Mars rips Tony's shirt off. Holds him by the neck while he thrashes around. Traces a finger down his spine. At his lower lumbar. Inserts his thumb and index finger. CRUNCH. Tony screams. Falls. Shakes on the ground. Screams. Screams. Passes out. Evil Mars watches Tony for a moment, fascinated. He looks up, turns to: The butt of Mars's walking stick is shoved deep into Evil Mars's eye. Mars screams. MARS Bastard! Mars knocks him down, gets on top of him. Pounds him furiously. Close up, Evil Mars's mouth is open. Unmoving. The walking stick protrudes vertically from one eye. But his other eye moves. Looks at Mars flailing him. Mars is catapulted 10 feet in the air. He lands on his back on a rock, leg broken. He screams in pain. Tries to move but can't. Evil Mars sits up. The walking stick extends from his head. A horrible sound comes out of his mouth. EVIL MARS Swashtav zhtin fragthra oos onglostaphe. He reaches into a pocket and retrieves a pill and a small ball with a button on it. He takes the pill. Reaches up and grabs the walking stick. A WET CRUNCHING as he extracts it. He howls. Glowing liquids flow down his face. He squeezes the ball, places it in the wound. After a moment, it turns bright red. He screams again. Burning flesh. Mars quivers, tries to back away. With great difficulty, Evil Mars stands. Now he's pissed. His awful voice thunders. EVIL MARS Risizhed chaggit phraaaaaa!!! He stumbles unsteadily toward Mars, walking stick in hand. Mars manages to slide off the rock, on his back. He looks up at his evil reflection, now towering over him. Evil Mars raises the stick. Smiles to reveal metallic teeth. EVIL MARS Quiseet dentme Mars! Mars is freaked. It knows his name! He lifts the stick higher. About to plunge. The stick moves higher. Higher. It flies up fifty feet. It falls and cracks off a rock 20 feet away. Mars looks up. Above him: Evil Mars is being picked up, tossed like a bag of trash. Standing over Mars is another Mars. He is the god-perfected version of Mars. Beautiful, angelic, strong. ANGELIC MARS winks at Mars. Moves off and walks over to Evil Mars, who lays, back broken, on the ground. Angelic Mars kneels down next to Evil Mars. He closes his eyes. A white disc appears in each hand. He looks down at Evil Mars with pity. Evil Mars looks back up, angry. EVIL MARS Kakkit shfaz kakkit sandid! Angelic Mars shakes his head. He holds the discs a few inches away on either side of Evil Mars's ears. Pulls his head up and closes his eyes. Evil Mars shakes violently. His entire body turns blue. Different shades of blue-ish liquid first bead and then stream out from his skin. He looks up at Angelic Mars, frightened. Angelic Mars loses his look of pity. Shakes his head "No" again. Closes his eyes and lifts his head again. Evil Mars's mouth opens. Blue liquid pools up. He coughs the stuff up. Convulses. Stops moving. Angelic Mars removes the discs. He stands and looks at Mars, who is watching Farrell run in place. The cords coming from her shoulders pulse red, but less brightly now. She looks very tired. Angelic Mars runs towards the wall of the singularity. He passes right through as if it were paper. He turns some knobs on the breadbox and the cords stop pulsing. He stands behind Farrell and puts the discs on either side of her head. MARS No. Angelic Mars closes his eyes. Lifts his head up. MARS No. Farrell becomes limp. Angelic Mars catches her as she falls. He lays her down. Out of Mars's view. He works on her, but Mars can't see what he's doing. He finishes. Walks back through the singularity wall and over to Mars. Smiles down at him. Extends his hand. Mars takes it. Stands. Angelic Mars helps him back to his rock and helps him sit up. MARS Who are you? Angelic Mars picks up Mars's notebook. He smiles beatifically at Mars, lifts his eyebrows. Motions to his mouth and shakes his head. Somehow Mars is calmed. Angelic Mars opens Mars's notebook. Flips through. First, a curious look. Then, he nods. He puts the book down gingerly next to Mars. MARS I guess you're me. Angelic Mars steps back about 10 feet from Mars. Closes his eyes. Folds his hands over his stomach. Lifts his head up. A light wind rustles around him. Briefly, he appears to glow white. In his hands, there is now a translucent ball, about baseball size. Every color of the spectrum flashes in consecutive sequence from inside the ball. Angelic Mars pitches the ball to Mars. A good throw. Yet, the ball moves slowly, as if in slo-mo. Mars watches the flashing ball approaching him. A mix of fear and intrigue. Angelic Mars signals to Mars with his hand up and open. Mars gets his drift. But should he trust him? Angelic Mars nods. Points at his hand. Up and open. The flashing ball is almost at Mars. He exchanges one last look with Angelic Mars. He reaches up. The ball glides effortlessly into his hand. Mars examines the ball curiously. It flashes red, purple, orange, blue, on and on. He looks back up. Angelic Mars is gone. Mars does a double-take. Looks around. He's really gone. Mars looks at the ball again. He looks down at his notebook. Picks it up with the hand not holding the ball. He loses his grip on the notebook. It falls to the ground and the pages fan. The entire book is now filled with formulas, right up to the last page, where concentric circles are drawn with symbols near the rings. INT. NASA SNAP FACILITY - DAY A medium sized boardroom. Scientists, military brass, a few politicos listen intently. Mars jabs a marker on a whiteboard. His artwork looks like a heap of bubbles. MARS As one n-space expands, another collapses. The diagrams are pretty clear. A General gives up trying to understand a stack of papers in front of him. GENERAL So you expect the United States chain of command to disrupt all ongoing operations, come down to Florida, develop materials we've never tried before, retrofit a, a shuttle, because, you say, someone wrote something in your notebook? SAMUEL WISE Bob, you have to move beyond the red tape on this one. There's stuff in these pages that moves us ahead by about two hundred years. There are extensions of theorems where we don't even know the theorems. MARS Someone has been altering the energy density of dark matter. Maybe they're running out of space, or maybe they want to build an empire. I don't know. POLITICIAN When you say space, you mean time? MARS Time is our perception of space expanding or contracting. POLITICIAN And I always thought time was money. The politician looks around to make sure he gets laughs from his aides. POLITICIAN (CONT'D) And then there's the matter of this, baseball whatever. MARS Bounded sphere. Sir. POLITICIAN Ok. This bounded sphere. Do we have any idea what this thing is? Mars sighs. MARS No. The General's second in command speaks up. GENERAL's SECOND Excuse me, Professor Wise. When you say "two hundred years," are you talking about any practical applications? SAMUEL WISE (warmly) Of course you would mention it, Carl. If by applications, you mean military applications, I'm sure there would be something here that could help your cause. Assuming, of course, that you could help us out. Mars is fed up with the wheeling and dealing. He slams his hand on the table. MARS Look. You don't have a choice. I don't know what the sphere does. I don't understand all the theorems we were given. But somebody gave us something. Something we could use. The room is unconvinced. From a corner, Farrell pushes Tony Bastardi in a wheelchair into view. Tony's neck is in a brace. He has tremendous difficulty speaking. TONY Excuse me. All eyes on him. Tony is wheeled to a whiteboard. A crude rendition of the three Mars's is on the board. TONY There is somebody out there. They are coming. They will not stop. Ever. We have to do this. Please. INT. BELLE MEADE REST & REHABILITATION CENTER, ROOM 139 - DAY Mars's mom sits in a chair, lovingly eyes a framed picture. Enter Mars and Farrell, bouquet of flowers in hand. MOM Mars! Mars is happily surprised. MARS Mom? Hi. You remember me? MOM I remember, Mars. I remember. They hug. She is a different woman from the zombie we met before. She notices Farrell. MARS Mom, this is Farrell. This is my fiancé. MOM Fiance? My goodness, Mars, you certainly have grown up to be a handsome young man. Just like your father was. Farrell says hi. Gives Mom a hug and kiss. FARRELL Mars is so proud of you, Mrs. Payne. MOM Please, call me Sarah. God, what a gorgeous girl. MARS Mom, I need to talk to you. MOM Mars. Oh, Mars. Thank God they got rid of that awful bitch. She would have kept me drugged up forever. The new man is so much better. She pulls him in close. MOM Mars, I had such a dream. I know things now. You have important work to do. Mars and Farrell are stunned at her prescience. MOM You have a great mission ahead of you, my Mars. You will have to sacrifice more than you know. Mars is a little bugged out. He sits next to her. MARS Mom, they said I could. He gets emotional. Happiness after a long suffering. MARS They said I could bring you home. To live with me and Farrell. We bought a house. Mars's mom beams. FARRELL You can have the whole second floor. Mom looks gratefully at her son and new daughter. Breaks into a big smile and gets up to hug them both. EXT. PENN STATE CAMPUS - DAY Mars and Alex walk along a sidewalk on a sunny day. ALEX This is a brave thing you do. MARS How can it be brave when I don't even know what I'm doing? ALEX You are facing the unknown. You are possibly giving up everything to help others. MARS Come on, Alex. Whatever this sphere is, or does, I'm sure I'll be fine. They took care of me before. A familiar figure approaches - ratty jeans, sweatshirt. The preacher barely notices the two as he walks by, bible in hand. THE PREACHER (to himself) The Anti-Christ walks amongst us again. ALEX So this will all happen in ten minutes? Alex turns. He's left Mars behind. Mars stares off, unmoving. Breathing heavily. Alex goes back to him. ALEX Mars? What's wrong? Mars just breathes more heavily. Turning pale. ALEX Mars, are you ok? Mars passes out. Falls. Alex catches him. ALEX Mars! EXT. COUNTRYSIDE - NIGHT Farrell looks up at the stars. Weeping. FARRELL Goodbye, my love. A pinpoint white streak shoots up through the sky. CUE MUSIC: AIR FOR THE G STRING -- BACH SIDE VIEW FROM SPACE -- SURFACE OF THE EARTH Two small white objects shoot out from the atmosphere very quickly, the first slightly larger than the one trailing it. The rockets glide past the moon and the planets of our solar system, building speed as they go. [0:20:00] Approach rockets from behind. They get larger, larger in POV. SIDE VIEW OF ROCKETS The spacecrafts pass planets very rapidly. They continue to grow in size. It was not just POV. They actually grow larger. One of them is as big as a moon. They pass a star. Then another. Then many. They get larger. They continue to move more quickly and grow. The rockets grow to the size of the galaxy. [01:00:00] They fill entire screen. EXT. IN SPACE, NEAR A LARGE UNFAMILIAR PLANET, SOMEWHERE IN UNIVERSE -- DAY [continue music, second movement] The planet has a small moon with Earthlike atmosphere. From behind the small moon come the two rockets. They have returned to their normal size. The smaller of the two positions itself behind the moon, directly in line with the planet. Closer, Mars is the pilot. The larger of the two positions itself directly between the planet and its moon. Both rockets turn 90 degrees to direct their bows towards the planet and assume an orbit the same as the moon's. The larger rocket has launchers in a circular pattern attached to its hull. The launchers expand out from the sides of the rocket. [02:00:00] Eight missiles are fired simultaneously from the launchers and they drift towards the planet. The missiles stop in an octagon with diameter 150 miles, 40,000 miles above the planet's surface. [02:39:00] The missiles detonate. Supremely large nuclear explosions light up the galaxy. Mars watches the show from behind the Earthlike moon. The initial blasts fade. The blast sites continue radiating a constant energy. Faintly visible red waves appear in concentric rings starting at the octagonal blast perimeter and moving inward. [03:03:00] MUSIC FADES The shock wave from the combined blasts drifts toward the Earth-like moon. No shock wave moves toward the planet. When the shock wave reaches the larger rocket, it incinerates instantly. [03:12:00] SILENCE The shock wave drifts toward the planet. The mute, unstoppable force seems to take forever. Yet it's only 15 seconds until: SIDE VIEW OF MOON, TOP OF ATMOSPHERE LINE The shock wave pounds the atmosphere ferociously. Jarringly loud BLAST as the atmosphere turns into an inferno. The shock wave wraps itself around the moon, turning it into a fireball. The shock wave passes Mars, barely missing him. Mars stops his craft from orbit. The moon slides out of his way, flames trailing for 5,000 miles. Through the front window of his rocket, Mars's terrified face is illuminated in red by the ring of radiation, still pulsing a few hundred miles in front of him. Shaking with fear, sweat-drenched, Mars pushes a button. A tiny pod launches out of the rocket and speeds toward the center of the radiant ring. Mars looks on, eyes wide. SIDE VIEW, RADIANT RING A plane of red glowing waves, stretching beyond sight. Close up, the pod has a small window. Inside it, the bounded sphere that Angelic Mars provided. The pod arrives at the center of the ring. It disappears. A tiny dot of black nothingness begins to fold out, replicate itself, blanking out the glowing waves. The blackness unfolds. Many odd, unfamiliar shapes. A sphere with a dent. A half cube - half pyramid. The shapes are not separate from each other. They emerge in succession as though building on an original. The final shape is a circle of blackness. It contracts slightly, then: The circle expands extremely rapidly, blacking out the entire 150 mile diameter radiant ring in 3 seconds. The mammoth black hole doesn't stop at the perimeter of the ring. It grows until it covers the entire horizon. The large planet, the small flaming moon, and all other objects visible from Mars's point of view are gone, replaced by emptiness. Mars gawks hopelessly at the darkness. Eyes wet. He cocks his head and looks left. Right. Up. MARS (desperately) Hello? The seconds pass. Alone in space. The only sound, Mars's labored breathing. Far, far up, perhaps a thousand miles from Mars, a glint of light. He squints. The glint becomes a single ray. It shoots down the horizon, past Mars and down, out of sight. Mars tries to see down but can't. Another ray, this one much closer, flashes and bends directly onto Mars's craft, bathing it in brightness, then glancing off the sides in all directions. More beams emerge from the blackness and fill the void. A field of asteroids slides out of nothingness and passes right of Mars. Tiny explosions dot the field. Hundred mile-long strands of metallic gas flow overhead past him. Mars stares, unable to react. An ovular crystalline planet, spraying fountains of colored light in all directions, passes from above right to down left of Mars. CUE MUSIC - "REQUIEM" BY MOZART For 30 seconds, uncountable light beams and fire and rocks and dust and gas pour out of the blackness, past Mars, and into space. Into Mars's view comes: A glowing that becomes stronger. Stronger. Brighter than all others. Very slowly, the burning surface of a sun comes into view. The colossal fireball moves toward Mars. SIDE VIEW, HOLE The immense, flaming world emerging from the hole dwarfs the barely visible speck that is Mar's craft to the right. To the left, the large planet is visible behind the hole, also dwarfed by the sun. Through the window of the spacecraft, Mars faces his doom. A look of complete awe. Reverence. Tears streaming down his face. He smiles. Laughs. The bright light of the sun eclipses him. WHITE OUT THE END 11
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