                        THE LONG RUN:
                A Tale of the Continuing Time
                             by
                      Daniel Keys Moran


Copyright 1989, 1992, 1994 by Daniel Keys Moran. All rights
reserved.  Work is an adaptation of "The Long Run," published
by Bantam Books in 1989, ISBN# 0-553-28144-5.

STATEMENT OF RIGHTS:
I, Daniel Keys Moran, the Author, hereby release this work to
the public for reading purposes.  It may be transmitted AS A
TEXT FILE anywhere in this or any other universe or dimension,
without  reservation, so long as the work's text is not
altered IN ANY WAY.  No fee may be charged for such
transmission, save handling fees comparable to those charged
for shareware programs. This is the ONLY use of this work that
is released to the public.

THIS WORK MAY NOT BE PRINTED, PUBLISHED, COLLECTED, PRODUCED,
PERFORMED, ADAPTED OR REPRODUCED VIA ANY MEDIUM NOW EXISTING
OR WHICH MAY IN THE FUTURE COME INTO EXISTENCE WITHOUT WRITTEN
PERMISSION FROM THE AUTHOR. THIS WORK IS LICENSED FOR READING


                       General notes:

This screenplay was begun in 1989, not long after the
publication of the novel by Bantam Books. It was my first
screenplay, and it shows; it was nearly 180 pages long in its
first draft. It's not much shorter today; if shot as written
it would run a good three hours.  D.C. Fontana read it and
made invaluable suggestions; so did Jonathan Zimmerman.
Consensus seems to be that it's roughly a $100 million movie,
using live actors.

The odds are, of course, that it never will be shot. I have
hopes; most particularly, I think it might make a thorougly
excellent computer-animated feature. But that's pure
speculation.

If you're one of the thousand-odd people who's contacted me
looking for old copies of <Emerald Eyes> and <The Long Run> --
as of today, September 11, 1994, the rights to those novels
are in the hands of Bantam Doubleday. They may or may not be
reprinted any time soon.

For what it's worth, I don't recommend this as an introduction
to my writing; if you've never read anything of mine before,
this is probably not the place to start.

***************************************************************

                        THE LONG RUN
                A TALE OF THE CONTINUING TIME
                              
     If you can keep your head while all those about you
          are losing theirs, then perhaps you have
                misunderstood the situation.
     --Graffiti on the side of the Flushing Street Temple
                     of Eris in New York

FADE IN:

INT. LIMBO--A BLACK EMPTINESS--MEDIUM DISTANCE

A man sits in the blackness, in half lotus, the only object
in a black universe. He is clothed in white: cloak, gloves,
boots, a hood; mist crawls where his face should be. On his
chest is a pattern of nine circles enclosing a starburst.
Touching the third circle out from the starburst are two
small, solidly colored spheres, one blue, one white.
                              
                         STORYTELLER
               I am Chai'Ell November, the Name
               Storyteller. It is Spring of the
               year 2062. Forty-five years ago the
               Earth and most of Luna were
               conquered by the Unification and its
               Peace Keeping Force. America fought
               against the Unification, and was
               occupied. Today only the Asteroid
               Belt, the SpaceFarers Collective,
               and Free Luna continue to resist.

The Storyteller gestures; abruptly the motionless image of
CARL CASTANAVERAS appears. Carl is a black-haired, pale-
skinned man of about 30, with brilliant green eyes.
                              
                         STORYTELLER
               Thirty years ago, the Unification
               designed the Castanaveras genies--
               genetically engineered humans,
               telepaths of frightening skill. And
               today the Peace Keeping Force <is>
               frightened. For thirty years the
               Castanaveras have been slaves to the
               Unification; today they have come of
               age, and are demanding the same
               freedom other humans are accorded--
               and they are prepared to fight for
               it...
                                        
                                        DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. LOWER MANHATTAN SKYLINE (MODEL SHOT)--DAY

A skyline considerably different from today's. Since our
day this area's been fought over, nuked, and reclaimed; now
it's an expensive residential area.

EXT.--EST. THE CHANDLER COMPLEX--DAY

A mansion in lower Manhattan. Three kids sit under a tree
on the Complex lawn. They are the 9-year old twins DAVID
and DENICE CASTANAVERAS, and the 11-year old TRENT. David
and Denice are pale, with glossy black hair and emerald
eyes; Trent is a self-possessed boy with blue eyes and
sandy blond hair. Trent and Denice sit over a handheld
computer, Playing in the InfoNet, while David reads a book
a few meters away.
                              
                           DENICE
               I don't know why you work so hard at
               it.
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm a Player. It's what I <do>.
                              
                           DENICE
                  (frustrated)
               I wish I could read your mind.
                              
                            TRENT
               In year or two you'll be able to.
                              
                           DENICE
               Trent, I want to understand <now>.

Plugged into the handheld is an infochip about the size of
a credit card, labeled <RALF, THE WISE AND POWERFUL>. A
diode on its surface lights and a 1/6TH-SCALE HOLO APPEARS:
Ralf, Trent's Image in the InfoNet. Ralf is an adult in
dark, flowing robes, with features reminiscent of Trent's.
His voice is deep:
                              
                            RALF
               Denice, life can be described--
               surprisingly well--in terms of
               information content.
                              
                           DENICE
                  (petulantly)
               What do <you> know? You're just an
               Image.
                              
                            TRENT
               Ralf is right.
                              
                           DENICE
               You're just saying that 'cause you
               wrote him.

Trent and Ralf look at one another, shrugging; could be.
                              
                            TRENT
               As a Player you...expand your
               sensory bandwidth by an order of
               magnitude; you can do the things an
               AI can do--control hardware with a
               thought, find answers to any
               question in instants....

Denice stares at him. Trent decides to simplify.
                              
                            TRENT
               It makes things faster, okay?
                              
                           DENICE
               So what's the <point>? So you can
               find data faster than anybody else
               in the world except an AI or another
               Player. Really, I just don't <get>
               it.

Trent turns his head slightly, finds the serious green eyes
looking into his own.
                              
                            TRENT
               The Crystal Wind is the greatest
               source of data the world has ever
               seen. Data is not information and
               information is not truth; but in
               data you can <find> truth.

The girl studies him, grave-faced. Trent stares back. The
corners of her mouth twitch, and she fights it, then
abruptly loses it, laughing; it trails off into giggles and
she leans back, resting her head on Trent's shoulder.
                              
                           DENICE
                  (quiet, detached voice)
               You're the craziest thing I ever
               saw.
                              
                            TRENT
               Really?
                              
                           DENICE
                  (quickly)
               It's okay. I like you anyway.

BLACK SCREEN

"Four Months Later: July 3, 2062" appears in glowing
emerald; it DISSOLVES TO:

EXT. THE CHANDLER COMPLEX--LIGHT RAIN--LATE AFTERNOON

A WIDE-ANGLE SHOT of the entrance to the chain-link fenced
Complex. The Complex's white monocrystal walls glow wet
beneath arc lamps. A huge crowd in an ugly mood, its
members gaudy with dramasuits and holosigns, surrounds the
Complex. One holosign says: <GENEGINEERING IS A CRIME
AGAINST GOD>.

A private force, SECURITY SERVICES, lines the fence, masers
trained on the crowd. The CROWD'S CHANTING is barely
audible above the SOUND OF THE WIND.
                              
                            CROWD
               Put the genies...<back in the
               bottle>! Put the genies...<back in
               the bottle>!

NEW ANGLE--CAR APPROACHING FROM BEHIND THE CROWD

The gates open. Stunners light up in banks, like ballpark
lights. Rioters fall; two riot sleds with mounted stunners
move out to clear a path, and escort the car into the
Complex.

INT. CAR--DAY--AS IT MOVES FORWARD THROUGH CROWD

Inside are MALKO KALHARRI, SUZANNE MONTIGNET, and Trent.
Suzanne is elderly, but fit; Malko is a big, broad-
shouldered ex-soldier, about 70. Trent sits in the back
seat, working with his handheld.
                              
                            MALKO
               I've never seen it so bad.
                              
                           SUZANNE
               And no Peaceforcers.
                              
                            MALKO
               Might be a few off-duty...in the
               crowd.

WIDE ANGLE--INTERIOR COURTYARD

A DOUBLE-S OFFICER watches as teens between the ages of 11
and 15 unload a crate of materiel. Masers get handed out to
everyone, regardless of age. An interesting thing about the
children: though they do not otherwise appear related (they
are white, black, Asian and Latino) they all have brilliant
green reflective eyes. HEATHER CASTANAVERAS, 15, lifts a
jumpsuit from the crate. With Heather is WILLI, also 15.
                              
                            WILLI
               Laser-resistant?
                              
                      SECURITY OFFICER
               Heat and impact.
                              
                           HEATHER
                  (to others)
               Get them on!

INT. CAR--DAY--SLOWING TO A STOP NEARBY--ON MALKO, WATCHING
                              
                            MALKO
               Carl must be scared.
                              
                            TRENT
               Wouldn't you be?

INT. CHANDLER COMPLEX--COMMAND CENTER--DAY

A media room. Holos are everywhere; maps of Manhattan,
images of the gates, of the Complex's approaches. A window
looks down on the courtyard. Carl Castanaveras stands with
his back TO THE CAMERA. He is the oldest of the
genegineered telepaths, after whom the others were named;
pale-skinned, with black hair and burning green eyes. He
holds himself with smouldering rage, watching the rioters.
With him are JANY, 25, (David and Denice's mother); ANDY, a
20 year old telepath, and Security Services Captain TODD
DEAVERS. Malko, Suzanne and Trent enter. Carl does not look
around.
                              
                            CARL
               I think you got here just in time.
                              
                       CAPTAIN DEAVERS
               Yes. Monitors 5 and 9; PKF troops.

MONTAGE SHOTS--PEACEFORCERS TAKING UP STATIONS

They move with professional competence; no goddamn Imperial
Stormtroopers, these people. They <hit> what they shoot at.

INT. CHANDLER COMPLEX--COMMAND CENTER--DAY--SCENE RESUMES
                              
                            CARL
               I wonder if they'd have let you
               through.... Somehow I don't think
               they're here to protect us.
                              
                            MALKO
               Hello, Carl.

Carl turns to face them. He glances at Malko, then Suzanne;
at his expression both look away. Only Trent meets his
gaze.
                              
                            TRENT
               Hello, Carl.
                              
                            CARL
               Hello, Trent. You should not have
               come. And you should not stay.
                              
                            TRENT
               We heard about the twins.
                              
                            CARL
               Malko, go home. Take Trent and go.
               Don't come back until this is over.
                              
                            MALKO
               Carl, you're not doing me any favors
               keeping me out of this fight.
                              
                            CARL
                  (losing it)
               <I'm not trying to do you any
               favors>. This is the <best> use I
               have for you!
                              
                            MALKO
                  (struggling and angry)
               <Fine>.

Carl holds his gaze a moment, then nods.
                              
                            CARL
               It's better this way, Malko.
                              
                            TRENT
               What about Denice and David?
                              
                       COMPUTER VOICE
               Unification Councilor Jerrill Carson
               on Line Three.

A beat -- and a life-size holo of UNIFICATION COUNCILOR
JERRILL CARSON appears. Carson is 60ish, gaunt and bony.
Carl moves into range for the phone cameras; Trent turns to
a systerm, grabs a traceset, licks the trodes and sticks
them to his temple. His eyes close, his hands fly across
the keyboard. Carl stares, enraged, at Carson's image.
                              
                           CARSON
                  (shaking voice)
               I have your children. You've caused
               me problems, Carl.
                  (voice gains strength)
               If you wish to see them alive you'll
               <do as you are told>.

Carl closes his eyes. Carson jerks, goes rigid. He and Carl
hold the tableau for a moment, and then Carl's eyes open.
Carson jerks like a puppet whose strings have been
released.
                              
                           CARSON
                  (harshly, panting)
               Fool. You think I've known
               you...this long...without learning
               anything? There are...<thousands> of
               minds all around me, and millions
               more in the distance between us.
               <You can't touch me>.

ON TRENT--CLOSING HIS EYES

IN THE INFONET--THE SHINING WORLD OF THE CRYSTAL WIND

BG SOUND of a tinkling wind. A gateway appears; Trent steps
through, morphing into Ralf the Wise and Powerful. A dark
window opens: text beneath the window says INTERFACE
WINDOW: <Realtime>. In the window WE SEE the ready room;
things in it happen very slowly. Ralf studies Carson's
image; then taps the window's edge. The window flips
around; its other side is labeled INTERFACE WINDOW:
<Communications Schematic>. A SINGLE COMM CIRCUIT GLOWS;
Ralf touches a finger to that circuit and is SUCKED INTO
the schematic at that spot.

INSIDE THE LASERCABLE--A GLOWING WHITE TUNNEL

Laser pulses--Carson's phone transmission--move slowly past
Ralf. He follows the pulse down the tunnel to its source--

INT. COMMAND CENTER--DAY--SCENE RESUMES

A map holo appears in the air next to Trent as Carson
talks, holding a map of Manhattan. Trent whispers, eyes
closed:
                              
                            TRENT
               Tracing. Keep him talking.
                              
                           CARSON
               --the Unification <made> you
               telepaths. And if you're honest with
               yourselves, you know you need us to
               survive. You genies are not popular
               with the public.
                              
                            Jany
               Are we supposed to think you didn't
               have something to do with this crap
               outside our front door?
                              
                           CARSON
                  (smiles)
               Of course we did. We paid some of
               the people out there...But we didn't
               pay most of them.
                              
                            CARL
               What do you want of me?
                              
                           CARSON
               You telepaths are too dangerous to
               be left uncontrolled; you need to be
               back under Peaceforcer control. Do
               you want your children back, Jany?
                              
                            JANY
               You know I do.
                              
                           CARSON
                  (to Jany; gestures at Carl)
               Then this is what you have the
               madman do. He tells the newsdancers
               that the Peace Keeping Force
               recovered your children from the
               kidnappers; that as a token of your
               gratitude you've agreed to renew
               your service with the PKF. You see
               you've been selfish, and realize
               that your skills are needed in the
               service of the Unification.

The map next to Trent zooms in on the eastern shore of
Manhattan, where Roosevelt Island bisects the East River.
                              
                            CARL
               When do we get the twins back?
                              
                           CARSON
               Make the announcement, Jany.

Carson vanishes; a spot BLINKS RED on the map.
                              
                            CARL
               Where is he?
                              
                            TRENT
               210 East 76th street. The Eastgate
               Hotel is at that address. I didn't
               get the room, but there are
               Peaceforcers in the lobby.
                              
                            CARL
                  (to Malko)
               You need to go now. I'll get you a
               PKF escort.
                              
                            MALKO
               What about you?
                              
                            CARL
                  (eyeing PKF on monitors)
               I'll take the MetalSmith as soon as
               it's dark.

EXT. STREET--DUSK--EST. SHOT OF MOHAMMED VANCE

MOHAMMED VANCE is a Peaceforcer Elite, a cyborg. Like most
PKF and all Elite, he is French. 35, Vance is tall and
heavily muscled. The cyborg differentiation is subtle; his
false eyes are black and glassy, with abnormally large
pupils. His facial skin is stiff and expressionless. A
laser is buried in his right fist. In all, he looks like a
recruiting poster. On another day, in someone else's movie,
he would be the hero. Today he stands motionless in the
street, in the rain, squads of PKF behind him, watching the
near-riot going on outside the Complex. An AIDE approaches.
                              
                           PKF #1
               Elite Sergeant?
                              
                            VANCE
                  (a hard, deep voice)
               Yes?
                              
                           PKF #1
               M. Castanaveras would like an escort
               through the crowds--Kalharri,
               Montignet, a child named Trent.
                              
                            VANCE
               Trent?
                              
                           PKF #1
               A genie, but not a telepath. Botched
               job, according to his file. He
               hasn't lived here for three months.
                              
                            VANCE
               Let them pass.

EXT. FRONT GATES--DUSK--ON MALKO'S CAR

Suzanne is driving. She, Malko and Trent are escorted to
the gates by Double-S, and through the crowds by PKF. Their
car halts at the PKF security perimeter.

INT. CAR--DUSK--PULLING TO A STOP
                              
                            TRENT
                  (abruptly realizing)
               We have to go back.
                              
                            MALKO
               What?
                              
                            TRENT
               I left my handheld. We were in such
               a hurry--
                              
                           SUZANNE
                  (exasperated)
               You can use mine.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (almost panicked)
               You don't understand! I left <Ralf>!
               My <Image>!
                              
                            MALKO
               We'll come back for him.

EXT. CAR--DUSK

Vance approaches the passenger side; Malko dilates the
window. Vance looks inside, eyes sweeping the interior,
taking in Malko with the autoshot, Suzanne and Trent. Vance
and Trent lock eyes for a long moment; two legends whose
lives are going to be intertwined for the next 40 years,
meeting for the first time: Trent the Uncatchable and the
patriotic, brilliant, and relentless Mohammed Vance. Trent
does not look away; Vance shakes himself, as though
realizing he's trading stares with a child. He takes
Malko's autoshot, stands back and waves the car on.
                              
                            VANCE
               Drive safely.

They drive away. Vance taps his earphone, speaks aloud:
                              
                            VANCE
               Commander Breillune, the car has
               left the Complex.
                              
                   BREILLEUNE (radio V.O.)
               Very good.
                              
                            VANCE
               I do not like this, Commander. We
               promised passage.
                              
                   BREILLEUNE (radio V.O.)
               Be strong. All will be resolved, and
               shortly. Oh, and Mohammed--Weather
               Control received a request for a
               storm tonight--from us?
                              
                            VANCE
               I was ordered to control the crowds,
               to help protect the telepaths. Rain
               is a good tool for crowd control.
                              
                   BREILLEUNE (radio V.O.)
               Elite Sergeant--relax. <Out>.

Vance nods grimly, suspicions confirmed. He is <not> there
to protect the telepaths from the crowds--or anyone else.

EXT. A SURFACE STREET--NIGHT--ON MALKO'S CAR

The car glides down the street; a spotlight strikes them.
They halt. Two PKF AeroSmiths come down out of the sky--

ANGLE ON TRENT

Hiding his traceset's trodes and throat mike in his shoes.

ON FIRST AEROSMI

Descending, somewhat closer than the second. WE SEE PKF
with their weapons ready--

ANGLE ON MALKO
                              
                            MALKO
               Fuck <this>.

Malko pulls an autoshot from under the seat, and rolls from
the car as the canopy swings up. The first AeroSmith lands;
Malko thrusts the autoshot against the canopy and FIRES.
The canopy shatters; the repeating shotgun blasts shred the
PKF inside. An Elite bursts from the second AeroSmith; the
laser in his fist pierces Malko's shoulder from behind.
Malko turns from the ruins of the first AeroSmith, still
firing, brings the autoshot around on the Elite. Blood
sprays from the Elite's blurred form, but the wound is not
mortal, and the cyborg does not slow. The laser in his fist
sweeps across Malko's face.

TWO SHOT--SUZANNE & TRENT--PKF APPROACHING

She kills one with a maser she's concealed. The Peaceforcer
behind the one she kills shoots her, fries her where she
sits. In the cold air, steam rises from the cooked meat.
Trent, in the back seat, raises his hands as three agitated
PKF point weapons at him.

INT. A PKF STATION--TRENT & TWO ELITE--NIGHT

They escort Trent past an admittance desk, to an empty,
harshly lit holding cell. They search him, coming up empty.
ELITE COMMANDER BREILLEUNE, commander of all PKF on Earth,
enters.
                              
                         BREILLEUNE
               Your guardians were killed, I'm
               told. Unfortunate. I've wanted to
               prosecute them for treason for a
               very long time...A lost opportunity.

He exits, leaving Trent alone in the cell.

INT. CONTROL CENTER--THE COMPLEX--NIGHT

Carl is now wearing fatigues like the others, though he's
got considerably more military hardware hung on him.

INSERT--A MONITOR

A blurry dot, moving closer, changing from a featureless
blur to an aircraft.

INT. CONTROL CENTER--NIGHT--RESUMES
                              
                       CAPTAIN DEAVERS
               We might have an aerial attack here.

Carl steps forward to the monitor.
                              
                            CARL
               Let's warn the roof--no.
                  (pause; realization)
               It's a kamikaze!

INT. PKF AEROSMITH--NIGHT--ON MOHAMMED VANCE

Watching the rising storm; a DRONING SOUND overrides the
wind. Turning, Vance sees the approaching airplane.

EXT. AEROSMITH--NIGHT--ON VANCE

He cracks the canopy and moves forward with his troops. The
craft strikes the Complex's front gate; the gate and fence
go down in a shower of sparks. The crowd surges forward.
From the Complex's windows and doors, scores of masers
strike into the crowd. The carnage is terrific, people
flaming up like candles as the masers touch them.

INT. COMMAND CENTER--NIGHT--ON MAIN WINDOW

Carl and the others smash the window, and stand with their
rifles, firing down at the approaching wave of humanity.

THE FRONT LAWN OF THE COMPLEX--NIGHT--WIDE ANGLE

The children lie in a row, firing; their rifle stocks
sizzle where the rain touches them. Rioters fall by the
hundreds. The firing goes on and on--and then briefly
stops. The crowd breaks and turns back; but a suicidal few
continue, charge toward the armed children, and the
children cut them down. Then it ends for real. Those few
rioters still on their feet flee in a panic, trampling the
fallen as they flee. The wounded scream briefly; then
Double-S's men turn the gate stunners inward on the injured
rioters.

INT. COMMAND ROOM

The barrels of their rifles, untouched by rain, glow cherry
red.
                              
                            CARL
               <Did we lose anyone>?
                              
                       CAPTAIN DEAVERS
                  (scanning on monitor)
               Your people are OK; I lost officers
               at the gate. I need to go down
               there.

Carl nods. Deavers exits.

EXT. FRONT LAWN--NIGHT--WIDE ANGLE

PKF in combat armor approach, moving relentlessly through
the carnage; Vance leads them. Heather blocks their way,
flanked by Willi and the other armed children.
                              
                            VANCE
                  (loudly over wind)
               I must speak to M. Castanaveras!
                              
                           HEATHER
               No. You don't pass here.

Vance makes a restraining motion to the PKF behind him.
                              
                            VANCE
               I've received instructions to
               evacuate the Complex. Vehicles will
               be arriving shortly to remove your
               people to a safer location. <I must
               speak to Carl Castanaveras>!
                              
                            WILLI
               Not a chance. Street's <that> way--

Willi gestures with his maser. The Peaceforcer behind Vance
misreads the gesture, and lifts his autoshot and fires.

SLOW MOTION

Things happen all at once. Willi disintegrates in a shower
of flesh and blood and bone. Scattershot touches Heather
and, expressionlessly, she brings her maser up to slice in
half the Peaceforcer who killed Willi. The battle computer
at the base of Vance's skull takes over, sends him rolling
across the lawn, laser in his fist flickering out to kill
one after another of the telepath children. Heather dies
first, in a wash of laser fire. The children stand
motionless, masers up, firing at the PKF with a profound
lack of any human hesitation. Vance is moving far too fast
for them; none of them come close to putting a maser on him
before he has reached his feet.

NORMAL MOTION RESUMES

Perhaps a full two seconds have passed. All of Vance's
squad are dead, and all of the children. Telepaths are
looking at him, out of the windows on the 1st and 2nd
floors; Vance turns and runs at Elite speed, zig-zagging
away from the Complex.

INT. COMMAND CENTER--NIGHT--ON CARL AT WINDOW

Rifle up, Carl tries to track the zig-zagging blur.

ON THE OTHER COMMAND CENTER TELEPATHS

They are trembling, shaking, dropping their weapons--

EXT. FRONT LAWN--NIGHT--ON THE DEAD CHILDREN

INT. COMMAND CENTER--NIGHT--ON THE OTHER TELEPATHS

Jany McConnell speaks in a deep, inhuman voice.
                              
                      JANY (THE VOICE)
               I have been <harmed>.

MONTAGE SHOTS--NIGHT

Throughout the Complex, INTERCUT W/DEAD CHILDREN on the
lawn; everyone speaks in the same inhuman voice.
                              
               1ST CHILD TELEPATH (THE VOICE)
               There is <pain>.
                              
               2ND CHILD TELEPATH (THE VOICE)
               I have been <hurt>.

ON CARL--LEADING VANCE'S ZIG-ZAG RUN

He FIRES. The beam strikes directly in Vance's path --

RETURN TO MONTAGE
                              
               3RD CHILD TELEPATH (THE VOICE)
               Parts of Me have been <ended>.

A SHOT OF THE COMPLEX

--with a difference. Walls and furniture are hazy, ghostly;
flesh is slightly more solid; human neural nets shine
through flesh, bright blue, haloing at the skulls. Abruptly
a solid bar of light leaps from one nerve system to
another, and then to another, and then another, from
telepath to telepath until every neural system shown is
connected--

NORMAL ACTION RESUMES--ANGLE ON CARL

--except Carl's He struggles to keep the rifle on Vance--
                              
                          THE VOICE
               Join me.
                              
                            CARL
               My <children>!
                              
                          THE VOICE
               Join me! JOIN ME!

Carl spasms as though a bolt of lightning has struck
him,and crumples to the floor, still struggling with it.
The voice speaks more gently:
                              
                          THE VOICE
               Join me.
                              
                            CARL
               I can't.
                              
                          THE VOICE
               Then rest. You will have need of
               rest.

Carl shudders and lays still.

ANGLE ON THE TELEPATHS

Their eyes shine brilliant green, far brighter than before.
                              
                      JANY (THE VOICE)
               They have killed Me. The Me that was
               Heather, and Willi, Tomas, Allie,
               Mari, Mandi and Theodore.
                              
                      ANDY (THE VOICE)
               I will kill them back.

EXT. THE COMPLEX--NIGHT

--gleaming in the rain. Silence. A beat--

THE PKF TROOPS--

--withdrawing from the Complex. In silence. A beat--

A SHOT OF THE MANHATTAN 2062 SKYLINE

Silence. A beat--

EXT. THE EASTGATE HOTEL--NIGHT

INT. HOTEL ROOM--THE EASTGATE HOTEL--NIGHT

Carson sits with autoshot in his lap, looking unwell. The
twins kneel on the floor before him, hands snakechained
behind their backs, mouths taped shut. A beat--

EXT. THE COMPLEX--NIGHT

A SOUND RISES, dull and harsh, the scrape of steel on
stone, a vicious, chilling scream of hatred and rage--

INT. THE COMPLEX--NIGHT

ON THE telepaths. They stand rigid, in strikingly similar
poses, heads tilted back, screaming up toward the sky.

INT. AEROSMITH--NIGHT--THE PKF RETREAT--ON VANCE

His jaw clamps tightly; PKF around him stumble and fall
screaming, echoing the telepath scream. Only Vance, in a
remarkable display of willpower, does not scream.

INT. HOTEL ROOM, EASTGATE HOTEL

As Councilor Carson screams.

ON THE TWINS
                              
                          THE VOICE
               Be strong. Carl is coming.

INT. THE JAIL CELL--NIGHT--ON TRENT

Trent looks up as the SOUND OF DISTANT SCREAMING penetrates
his cell. He clearly feels nothing. After a moment he kicks
his shoes off, pulls free the trodes hidden in one shoe,
and the throat mike in the other. Trent licks the trodes
and sticks them to his temples, clips the throat mike to
his collar. He closes his eyes and folds into full lotus.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (whispers)
               On. Up. Frequency in use...frequency
               in use...frequency open. Out...
               Access 102808-CC12.

THE GLOW OF THE INFONET

A data packet makes its cautious way through the swirling
storm of the Crystal Wind.

INT. THE COMPLEX--NIGHT--COMMAND ROOM

The station Trent worked at earlier. His handheld sits on
the desktop, Ralf's credit-card shaped Image coprocessor
plugged into it. Abruptly the coprocessor shimmers--

INT. THE JAIL CELL--NIGHT--TRENT LOOKS UP IN EXCITEMENT
                              
                    RALF (V.O. infovoice)
               You are held by the Peaceforcers.
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes. Free me.

A brief pause.
                              
                    RALF (V.O. infovoice)
               I can disable power to the entire
               station. Will this suffice?
                              
                            TRENT
               Open the door to the cell first.
                              
                    RALF (V.O. infovoice)
               I cannot do that. The security
               computer runs Maxtor-Briggs
               software. It is sophisticated.
                              
                            TRENT
               Try the AL-405 decryption routine.
                              
                    RALF (V.O. infovoice)
               There are 3.5 x 10 to the 8th power
               combinations the lock to your door
               might accept. It will take some time
               to try them all. Please abide.
                              
                            TRENT
               <Hurry>.
                              
                    RALF (V.O. infovoice)
               I only have one speed, Boss.

EXT. THE COMPLEX--NIGHT

Utter desolation. The rain lashes down on the dead. The
stunners have worn off, and nobody has reapplied them. WE
HEAR the growing storm, and then, in a brief lull, the
SCREAMS OF THE WOUNDED. In the distance, to the north, the
city is burning, the skyline flickering with fire.

EXT. STREET--FACING COMPLEX--NIGHT

20 Elite assemble, preparing an assault; they stand
silently in the rain, staring at the Complex. Vance watches
as they are distributed monstrously large repeating
mortars.
                              
                            VANCE
               They've killed PKF. Kill them all.

The Elite slip off into the windy night.

INT. COMPLEX--NIGHT--ON THE TELEPATHS

Watching. Their eyes glow brighter--

EXT. COMPLEX--NIGHT--ANGLE ON THE ADVANCING ELITE

Suddenly they <fold>, as though a great hand has struck
them down. Elite and mortars hit the wet ferrocrete, slide
and tumble for meters before stopping. Vance watches the
disaster unfold; the Elite lay in the wet streets,
unmoving. Vance beckons; PKF #1 approaches.
                              
                            VANCE
               Dispatch the robots to retrieve our
               fallen. When this is done we will
               retreat a kilometer north...and then
               contact Space Force.
                              
                           PKF #1
                  (stares; then salutes)
               Yes, Elite Sergeant.

EXT. GARDEN, CENTER OF COMPLEX--NIGHT

The garden is open to the sky, but with buildings all
around blocking it from view of the street. In the center
of the garden is a Chandler MetalSmith Mark IV, the fastest
flying car ever built. Carl and Jany are alone.
                              
                      JANY (THE VOICE)
               Your best chance of avoiding PKF
               patrols is over the East River.

Carl nods. Cracking the MetalSmith's canopy, he settles in
the driver's seat, dropping an autoshot and maser rifle
beside him; brings the fans up to speed and fires the rear
jets.
                              
                            CARL
               Stand back. The jets get hot.
                              
                      JANY (THE VOICE)
               I shall.

The fans almost drown out her final words, in her own
voice:
                              
                            JANY
               Be careful, baby.

Carl stares at her, then yanks the canopy savagely closed
and hits the fans. The car lifts straight up until it has
cleared the building, and then, lights extinguished, Carl
lights the rear jets. The car leaps forward into the storm.

EXT. THE METALSMITH--NIGHT

The car flies out over the East River, and then heads
north.

INT. THE METALSMITH--NIGHT

A control BEEPS.
                              
                        PKF VOICE #1
               You are violating PKF airspace--

Carl taps the control, cutting the voice off. He flies
through the night sky in majestic silence broken only by
the rain drumming on the car. The city looks horrible.
Fires blaze everywhere; the streets are full of rioters and
wrecked vehicles. Power is out over much of the city. A
holo of Manhattan shows the MetalSmith's flight as a bright
dot. When the dot comes parallel to E. 76th Street, Carl
banks in a slow glide.

EXT. THE METALSMITH--NIGHT

Carl brings the car in from the river, high above traffic,
bringing the MetalSmith to a dead halt, fans roaring with
the effort to keep it hovering motionlessly in the powerful
wind, high above the roof of the Eastgate Hotel. He hovers,
watching the roof--

EXT. THE ROOF--NIGHT

A shape detaches itself from the shadows, moves cautiously
to the roof's edge and looks down.

EXT. THE METALSMITH--NIGHT

Carl cuts fans. The MetalSmith dives in deadly silence; the
front fender hits the Peaceforcer in the back at 150 kph.
The Peaceforcer falls from the roof in two different
pieces. Carl brings the fans back up, banks the MetalSmith,
and lands gently on the roof. He cracks the canopy, and
carrying his weapons, descends into the hotel.

INT. PKF AEROSMITH--NIGHT--ON MOHAMMED VANCE

A holo of a Space Force Colonel floats in front of Vance.
                              
                            VANCE
               I want a tacnuke strike on the
               Complex. I take full responsibility;
               you may clear it with Elite
               Commander Breillune.
                              
                           COLONEL
               We're ready now.
                              
                            VANCE
               How long have you been in position?
                              
                           COLONEL
                  (suddenly cautious)
               Since morning, Elite Sergeant.
                              
                            VANCE
                  (slowly)
               It was never intended that these
               people should be allowed to live.

INT. THE JAIL--NIGHT
                              
                    RALF (V.O. infovoice)
               I have found the access code.

Trent comes to his feet, tense and excited; instants later,
the walls of Trent's cell shake.
                              
                            TRENT
               What was that?
                              
                    RALF (V.O. infovoice)
               A diversion to aid in your escape.
                              
                            TRENT
               <What was it>?
                              
                    RALF (V.O. infovoice)
               I crashed a cab through a wall of
               the station.
                              
                            TRENT
               Did you--was anyone in the cab?
                              
                    RALF (V.O. infovoice)
               No...That would be inhuman.
                  (Trent shows relief)
               Abide; I shall open the door
               shortly.

INT. HOTEL MAGLEV ELEVATOR--NIGHT

Carl lies belly down on the floor. He has punched every
floor. 10th floor, 9th--when the doors open at the 8th
floor, the Peaceforcer is simply standing there, autoshot
leveled to cover the maglev at waist height. Carl kills him
with a single maser burst.

INT. THE HALLWAY--NIGHT--GUARDS' POV

Two PKF guard Carson's hotel room. WE SEE Carl extend his
left arm out through the maglev door, holding the autoshot.
He fires twice down the hall, buckshot scoring the walls,
but he's picked the wrong direction; the PKF at the hotel
room door FIRE. Maser fire washes Carl's arm, cooks it
instantly. Carl knows where they are now; he rolls forward
into the hallway, grabbing the autoshot with his good right
hand and firing as he rolls, killing the two PKF at the
door. Carl stands slowly, staggering. He walks down the
hall, blackened arm hanging at his side. He trips, gets up
again. At the door he switches from the autoshot to the
maser rifle; more accurate, and the twins are inside. He
stands just to the side of the doorway, catching his breath
and marshaling his strength. Finally he comes around to
stand before the door--and <looks> at the door. The door
EXPLODES INWARD.

INT. THE JAIL--NIGHT--ON TRENT--TRACKING

The door BEEPS and curls open. Trent stands in the doorway,
listening. In the distance is a HYSTERICAL BABBLE OF
VOICES, in both French and English. Trent takes a step into
the hall. PKF mill about off to his left; to his right is
the empty admittance desk. Trent walks calmly past the
admittance desk, past an open door; inside a mad
Peaceforcer in uniform, PKF #2, is being comforted by TWO
CIVILIANS.
                              
                           PKF #2
               <Stop the screaming>! Stop it!

Trent walks by--
                              
                          CIVILIAN
               Boy!

Trent turns and faces the man, who has come after him.
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes?
                              
                          CIVILIAN
               What are you doing in here?
                              
                            TRENT
               I--I'm looking for the bathroom.
                              
                          CIVILIAN
               How the hell did you get in here?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (mind racing)
               ...the door was open, sir?
                              
                          CIVILIAN
                  (staring at Trent)
               God <damn>. Come on.
                  (leads Trent, muttering)
               No wonder the city's burning, we
               can't even keep little boys out of
               Operations.

They come to a large doorway; the man's palm is scanned.
The door curls open, out into a bright, crowded lobby.
                              
                          CIVILIAN
               Over there, public restrooms. The
               waiting rooms are back the other
               way. You here with your parents?
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes, sir.
                              
                          CIVILIAN
                  (gently)
               Don't get lost again. This is a bad
               night to be out wandering around.

He goes back inside; Trent walks through the lobby, from
the building, and into the night rain. He crosses the block
without haste, turns a corner, and runs for his life. WE
HOLD THAT IMAGE: A boy running, fading into the rain, as a
bright mushroom cloud climbs into the sky above him.

INT. MOHAMMED VANCE'S AEROSMITH--NIGHT--ON VANCE

A glow behind him. He sits erect and does not look back.

EXT. THE FORMER CHANDLER COMPLEX--NIGHT

The brilliant fireball climbs toward the sky.

INT. CARSON'S HOTEL ROOM--NIGHT

The door explodes inward. At that moment, on a holofield to
one side of the room, an image of the Complex is replaced
by an awful glare, briefly lighting the room in unreal
colors. Carl appears in the doorway, a grinning <thing>
with emerald eyes--and hesitates at the sight of the twins
being used as a shield for Carson. Carson's autoshot blast
takes Carl in the chest, lifts and slams him out into the
hall. Carl fires in midair, the beam slicing between Denice
and her brother, reaching past them to cut Carson's skull
in two. Carl hits the wall hard; slumps where he stands,
sliding down to the floor, leaving a long trail of blood
where he touches the wall. David is on the ground, bringing
his bound hands from behind him, down under his feet and
around to the front. He rips the tape from his mouth.
                              
                            DAVID
               Turn around.

Denice does. David pushes Carson's dead hand up against the
snakechain thumblock; the chain releases Denice. She works
the tape from her mouth and then frees David the same way.
Carl is motionless, dying. He touches their thoughts:
                              
                      CARL (telepathy)
               David, get the lasers.

David picks up the maser one of the PKF guards used to fry
Carl's arm; Carl releases his own bloody rifle.
                              
                      CARL (telepathy)
               Take it, Denice.

Denice scoops the maser up off the floor. Carl's telepathic
voice is faint, fading.
                              
                      CARL (telepathy)
               There are Peaceforcers downstairs. I
               can't kill them, so you have to.
                              
                            DAVID
                  (nodding)
               We will, Father.
                              
                      CARL (telepathy)
                  (eyes closing)
               They'll hesitate before they shoot
               children.

Tears track down Denice's cheeks.
                              
                           DENICE
               We won't hesitate, Daddy.
                              
                      CARL (telepathy)
               Good. Remember that you're tougher
               than they are.
                  (lips curl in pain)
               <Better>.

The children jerk with the force of the thought, of Carl's
pain and life-long rage imprinting itself upon them.
                              
                           DENICE
               We'll remember.

David punches for the maglev. Denice hugs Carl fiercely;
blood covers her when she lets go. The maglev comes--
                              
                           DENICE
               Good-bye, Daddy.

WE TRACK THE TWINS: Denice runs to the maglev. The doors
uncurl to shut; Denice wipes Carl's blood off her rifle.
                              
                    CARL (telepathy V.O.)
               <Kill the fuckers>.
                              
                            DAVID
               We will.

PINT. LIMBO--BLACKNESS--MEDIUM LONG SHOT--ON STORYTELLER
                              
                         STORYTELLER
               They did. In the seven years that
               followed that day, the PKF did not
               find the boy; did not find the
               twins....In later years it was
               estimated that a quarter of the
               population of New York state was
               rendered insane in the moments when
               the Castanaveras struck back with
               their full strength. In the city,
               the proportion was near one half.
                  (long pause)
               Seven years is the blink of an eye.
               On the surface, a world cannot
               change much in so short a span.
               Inertia alone prevents it. But in
               detail...

MONTAGE: EXT. MANHATTAN--DAY--THE WALLS GOING UP--

--wire mesh, electrified, with razor barb wire atop. SHOTS
OF SLUMS far worse than any today, of PEOPLE BEING SHOT as
they try to make their way into the safer Patrol Sectors.
                              
                  STORYTELLER (V.O., CONT.)
               The Patrol Sectors were designed as
               an interim measure to maintain order
               during the riots that followed the
               destruction of the Castanaveras
               telepaths. But the PKF found the
               Patrol Sectors useful, and instead
               of restoring patrol service to the
               entire city, concentrated on Capitol
               City in Manhattan, and left the rest
               of New York City to decay into the
               Fringe, patrolled by underfunded,
               under-equipped American police.

INT. LIMBO--MEDIUM SHOT--THE STORYTELLER
                              
                     STORYTELLER (CONT.)
               Seven years...A story may begin many
               times, in many places. But there
               must somewhere be a true beginning.
               At the beginning of it all, there
               was an enigma...A boy named Trent
               who became a thief, and grew toward
               manhood--

CU THE NAME STORYTELLER
                              
                     STORYTELLER (CONT.)
               And did not forget.

BLACK SCREEN

"Monday, July 1, 2069," appears in emerald, then fades.

INT. DOWN PLAZA MAGLEV ELEVATOR--DAY--ON TRENT

As it descends into the Down Plaza, a subsurface mall in
the Brooklyn Patrol Sectors, in relative quiet. Trent, now
18, stands toward the rear; a conservatively dressed young
man in a gray jacket and black pants, and a long-sleeved
white silk shirt. He wears immaculately clean white running
shoes; a single flat ruby stud shines in the lobe of his
left ear. His hair is sandy blond, cut short: he wears flat
black sunglasses. A handheld--a good bit smaller than the
handhelds of seven years prior--is clipped at his belt.
People get on and off at every level. The maglev platform
tower thrusts up through the center of the Plaza; shops are
placed in a rectangle around the tower. Hanging walkways
connect the tower to the each level; skywalks connect the
levels to each other.

INT. LEVEL EIGHT--DAY--TRACKING ON TRENT

The platform stops last at Level Eight, bottom level; Trent
gets off with the rest. Eight is a riot of color;
glittering adholo, neon and neonlaser and glowpaint:
picture the biggest, noisiest mall you've ever seen, and
multiply by ten. Gang kids, wearing colors, mix among the
crowd at the far end of the Plaza. A young blonde girl,
JODI, talks with them. Four cops--NYPD Officers--sit at a
Plaza coffee shop, watching the crowd through glassite
walls. Trent moves through the crowd, stops next to an
elderly black contortionist, BONES. Three teenage girls
stand nearby, talking together. One stands with her BACK TO
THE CAMERA; she wears a green leather dress, black ankle
boots and pale green nylons. Her hair is black, straight
and long. A glowing scarlet zipper begins just over her
right thigh and spirals up around her buttocks, waist, and
breasts. She carries a handbag by its top.
                              
                            BONES
               Peaceforcers, Trent.
                              
                            TRENT
               Where? When?
                              
                            BONES
               Three hours ago. Haven't seen `em
               since...This is not good, Trent. You
               should get you a job.
                              
                            TRENT
               I already have a job.
                              
                            BONES
               Boosting's no job, boy...<I'm
               serious>. You're young enough to get
               out of here.

WE HEAR, with Trent, a FILTERED INFOVOICE; the voice of
JOHNNY, Trent's Image. Obviously only Trent hears Johnny.
                              
                   JOHNNY (V.O. INFOVOICE)
               Boss, somebody's messed with Plaza
               security.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (faint smile; to Bones)
               I spent six years just getting out
               of the Fringe, Bones. I <love> the
               Patrol Sectors...'Scuse me.

Trent closes his eyes and goes Inside.

THE INFONET--DOWN PLAZA ANALOG

A computer generated simulation of the Plaza; Trent steps
though a glowing gateway, morphing into the shape of his
Image, JOHNNY. BG SOUND is of the Crystal Wind. Johnny
appears as a pleasant young man dressed in jeans, cowboy
boots and a t-shirt; he glances at a pair of security
holocams overlooking Level Eight--

THE INFONET--INSIDE THE HOLOCAMS--JOHNNY'S POV

We look down into Realtime, on Trent and Bones. Johnny
turns away and melts into the lasercable leading away from
the holocams, and abruptly we are--

THE INFONET--INSIDE THE LASERCABLE

Flowing as a pulse of scarlet laser light to--

INT. REALTIME SECURITY CONTROL--DAY

Six PKF are inside, watching Trent on the holocams. A
holocam high on the wall, watching the Peaceforcers, comes
alive for an instant, as Johnny looks <them> over--

REALTIME SCENE RESUMES--INT. LEVEL EIGHT--DAY--ON TRENT

Mere seconds have passed. JIMMY RAMIREZ, 20, appears out of
the crowd, a tall, handsome fellow with muscles on his
muscles, watching Trent with a cool, reserved look he saves
for times when he is truly pissed. Jodi is on her way
across the Plaza, striding angrily through the crowd; the
cops at <Googie's> watch as she and Jimmy approach Trent.
                              
                            JIMMY
               You're late again.
                              
                            TRENT
               Sorry but I got this call--
                              
                            JIMMY
               About?

Jodi closes, radiating anger.
                              
                            JODI
               What the hell's going on? I've been
               stalling but--
                              
                            TRENT
               It's a drop.

Jodi's a pro; she turns and fades. Trent doesn't look at
Jimmy.
                              
                            TRENT
               Walk. I just got warned not to boost
               CalleyTronics--
                              
                            JIMMY
               You're kidding--
                              
                            TRENT
               --and the Peaceforcers are watching
               us <right now. Go.>

A cop at <Googie's> points out the scene to the others; the
girl in the green dress is walking away with her friends.
Trent follows. Two cops come onto the Plaza floor; Trent
threads his way through the crowd, gaining on the girls;
the girl in the green dress holds her purse by its clasped
top. An adholo flares and Trent swerves to pass through it-
-

INSIDE THE ADHOLO

Trent pulls an emblade (a knife with a 1 molecule wide
edge) from behind his belt buckle and turns it on. The
blade appears, Trent steps out of the adholo--

INT. DOWN PLAZA--SCENE RESUMES--TWO SHOT TRENT AND GIRL

Trent walks by the girl, flicks the blade up to cut the
purse open, reaches through the open flap and pulls the
wallet free; turns the emblade off, drops the haft and
kicks it and is turning away when a delicate hand closes
around his forearm.
                              
                            GIRL
               I'd like my wallet returned.

The crowd clears away from them. She is 16, with clean
simple features framed by long, straight black hair, with
bright green eyes.
                              
                            TRENT
               Sure.
                  (hands wallet back)
               How did you know I took it?

She studies him, puzzled; behind Trent a DEEP VOICE BOOMS:
                              
                             COP
               Ma'am, stand away!
                              
                            TRENT
               Really, I did that <perfectly>.
                              
                             COP
               <Stand away>!
                              
                            TRENT
               If you're not going to answer, you
               better back off, or he'll stun you
               too. It's not pleasant, trust me.

She nods slowly, steps backward, wallet in hand. Her eyes
never leave Trent--her eyes.
                              
                            TRENT
               Oh.

Bright green eyes, like Carl's, or Jany's...emerald eyes.
                              
                            TRENT
               Denice?

Denice's eyes widen in shock. Then the cops shoot him.

INT. NYPD PROCESSING AREA--ON TRENT--NIGHT

TWO COPS are stripping Trent of his valuables. Trent does
not resist as they take his belt, watch, earring, wallet
and shoes. When they're done he stands in his socks as they
run a GLOWING BAR OF LIGHT over him, front and back, rather
like a modern metal detector. A HOLOGRAPH OF TRENT'S BODY
appears as they do this, showing Trent's internal organs
and outlines of his bones.

INSERT--HOLOGRAPH--TIGHT ON TRENT'S SKULL

The holo shows a thin, flat object INSIDE Trent's skull.
                              
                        COP #1 (V.O.)
               What the hell is that?
                              
                        TRENT (V.O.)
               An inskin InfoNet link.

RETURN TO SCENE--INT. PROCESSING AREA--NIGHT--THREE SHOT
                              
                           COP #1
               I don't see a socket.
                              
                            TRENT
               It's a radio inskin. There is no
               socket.
                              
                           COP #2
               There's progress for you. C'mon.

TRACKING SHOT--THROUGH THE POLICE STATION

Grungy equipment everywhere, in need of cleaning and
repair, mixed with grungy criminals and cops. The cops lead
Trent through the waiting area; too many people in too
small a space, speaking in voices that are too loud. Denice
Castanaveras, still in the green dress, is in a glassite-
walled soundproof cubicle; a red-faced lady cop is speaking
to her. Denice does not glance aside as Trent is led by. In
a chair just outside of Police Chief MAC DEVLIN's office
sits EMILE GARON, a stiff-faced man in black and silver:
PKF Elite. Cyborg. An inskin InfoNet link is socketed at
his skull. Trent pauses under the weight of Garon's frozen
glare--
                              
                             COP
               Come on.

He shoves Trent contemptuously forward.

INT. MAXWELL DEVLIN'S OFFICE--NIGHT--

--a mix of gray leather and chrome. A painting hangs to
Devlin's left: a glowing violet Easter egg in a scarlet
desert sits on the divider line of a two-lane highway. The
ceiling sunpaint is off; a small lamp at Devlin's right
elbow provides the office's only illumination. Trent and
Devlin hang suspended in dimness, two images at the edges
of the light. A miniature antique cannon, on a small end-
table to Devlin's left, points directly at Trent. Trent
drinks a cup of coffee, right-handed, as they speak.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               What were your people doing tonight?
                              
                            TRENT
               We were going to boost CalleyTronics
               and then go dancing and drink
               coffee... actually, Jimmy was
               probably going to get drunk and
               fight somebody, but <then> he would
               have had coffee with us.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               Why were you boosting Calley, Trent?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (are you <serious>?)
               Mac, I was getting <paid>.
                              
                           DEVLIN
                  (hides smile)
               Excuse me. Stupid question. Look,
               this is my problem. With this--
                  (glances at holofield)
               --Denice Daimara's testimony, I can
               put you into Public Labor; we found
               the emblade you used, we have a
               solid weapons charge. Or I can hand
               you over to the PKF.
                              
                            TRENT
               Send me to Public Labor. Please?
                              
                           DEVLIN
               Why do I have a Peaceforcer Elite
               camped out in my office over a small
               time thief like you, Trent?
                              
                            TRENT
               You know what I do.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               You steal from thieves. Mostly.
                              
                            TRENT
               A month ago, a man hired me to boost
               15 terabytes of RAM from
               CalleyTronics--said Calley had
               stolen it from <him>, and he just
               wanted it back. He was convincing. I
               checked him out... Mac, I am
               possibly the best Player you'll ever
               meet. The man who hired me to boost
               Calley was who he said he was--or
               the PKF DataWatch constructed his
               background. His records were
               <solid>.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               Then?
                              
                            TRENT
               I told him we'd do it. Today--half
               an hour before we're supposed to do
               the deed--I got a message from this
               Player. I don't know this Player,
               never heard of him before, but he
               was <good>. He might not even have
               been a Player; he could have been an
               Artificial Intelligence. This person
               says, don't do the job.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               An AI called you about a robbery?
                              
                            TRENT
               I know, why would an AI <care>? But
               this--person--<knew> things, Mac.
               About the client, the target, all of
               it. It was too weird. I headed to
               the Plaza, found PKF watching me--
                  (shrugs)
               I called it off.
                              
                           DEVLIN
                  (grins)
               So the PKF set you up, and you
               decided to let the police rescue you
               from them.

Trent glances at his left wrist; WE SEE for the first time
it has been snakechained to his chair.
                              
                            TRENT
               If you want to put it that way.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               You've got balls, Trent.
                              
                            TRENT
               I was desperate. There's a
               difference.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               Yes. I don't suppose you've eaten?
                              
                            TRENT
               ...I beg your pardon?
                              
                           DEVLIN
               You want dinner? I know a good
               place.
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes...thank you.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               <Command>, chain off. <Intercom>:
               Janice, tell Elite Sergeant Garon
               we're going to charge the boy
               ourselves.
                              
                            TRENT
               <Garon>?
                              
                           DEVLIN
               Heard of him?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (shaken, he has; lies badly)
               No. Never.

INT. RESTAURANT--PRIVATE BOOTH--NIGHT--TWO SHOT

Trent and Devlin. The glowpaint is dim, aided by gentle
white spotlights. As their dinners are being served,
Devlin's EARPHONE BEEPS. Trent has fries, scallops and
coffee; throughout this scene, whenever he's not talking,
he's eating.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               Excuse me.
                  (touches spot beneath ear)
               Yes...what is it? <What>?
                  (suddenly stares at Trent)
               Exactly <when> ... okay.
               Acknowledged.
                  (removes finger; real anger)
               How did you do that?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (swallowing)
               Do what?
                              
                           DEVLIN
               Five minutes after I tell the PKF
               we're charging you, our witness
               changes her mind. She's not going to
               testify against you. She didn't see
               you with the emblade, she's not sure
               you're the one who cut her purse.
               How did you get to her?
                              
                            TRENT
               Mac, I've been in <jail>--maybe
               Jimmy did, I don't know.
                              
                           DEVLIN
                  (almost aggressively)
               Ever considered becoming a cop?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (almost offended)
               That's not even a <little> bit
               funny.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               I'm not joking. I think you'd be
               good.
                              
                            TRENT
               I'd be good at a lot of things I
               don't want to do. No offense, but
               jumping two meters every time the
               PKF sneezes is not my idea of <fun>.
                              
                           DEVLIN
                  (nods)
               <I> hate working with the PKF.
                              
                            TRENT
               Mac, I don't hate the Peaceforcers.
               I don't hate the Unification--even
               if I do hate what it's done to
               Occupied America. But we can't
               afford another war, Mac, so we need
               either the Unification or something
               like it. And we can't trust
               individual countries to keep the
               peace, so we need the Peace Keeping
               Force, or something very like it, to
               administer those things.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               We need the Unification, and we need
               the PKF. Okay. But they do not have
               to be the Unification or the PKF
               that we have today.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (eating fries quickly)
               You're talking like a Reb. Do you
               think we can get rid of the
               "current" PKF without violence?
                              
                           DEVLIN
               The tree of Liberty must from time
               to time be refreshed with the blood
               of patriots. Jefferson said that.
                              
                            TRENT
               Mac?
                              
                           DEVLIN
               Yes?
                              
                            TRENT
               Killing is wrong.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               Yeah, tell it to the Peaceforcers.

Devlin's eyes widen; WE SEE Denice being led to a table
near them. Devlin's eyes follow her; the hostess seats
Denice, and when the hostess leaves, Denice <smiles> at
Devlin. Devlin's eyes lose focus; his gaze wanders back to
Trent.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               Uh...what were we talking about?

Trent eats his last scallops, drinks the last of his
coffee. Devlin's barely touched his own food.
                              
                            TRENT
               I was saying I had to leave. My
               people are going to be wondering
               what's happened to me, Mac.
                              
                           DEVLIN
               This has been a very odd day.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (rising)
               You don't even know.

EXT. A CITY STREET IN THE RAIN--NIGHT

Trent and Denice walk close together through the quiet
drumming of the rain.
                              
                            TRENT
               Is David alive?
                              
                           DENICE
               I don't know. We were separated in
               the riots. I ended up in Public
               Labor. Nobody's ever really guessed
               what I am. You know there's rumors
               some telepaths survived?
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes. Some of the documentaries show
               Carl taking the MetalSmith up out of
               the Complex before it was nuked.
                              
                           DENICE
               There's recordings of that? I've
               never seen them.
                              
                            TRENT
               I have them on file at home. I'll
               play them for you if you like.
                              
                           DENICE
               I would...Trent?
                              
                            TRENT
               Yeah.
                              
                           DENICE
               I don't know where to start. It's
               been seven years. I don't even know
               if you're the same person any more.
                              
                            TRENT
               Neither do I. I spent six years in
               the Fringe.
                              
                           DENICE
                  (visibly shaken)
               I'm sorry, Trent. I'm really sorry.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (blinking)
               Well, it wasn't <that> bad. At least
               not after I met Jimmy Ramirez it
               wasn't. The Fringe <is> brutal,
               violent place. It turned me into a
               pacifist--about the tenth time I got
               beaten half to death. A <firm>
               believer in non-violence.
                              
                           DENICE
               I bet.
                              
                            TRENT
               But I'm basically still the same
               person. I still tell <really> bad
               jokes. Good ones, too. Sometimes.
               About lawyers mostly, and
               Peaceforcers, `cause they're easy
               targets. These two lawyers are
               watching a girl in a park, and one
               of them says--
                              
                           DENICE
                  (quietly)
               You're trying too hard.
                              
                            TRENT
               Oh? All right.
                  (pause)
               Can we still hold hands when we
               walk?
                              
                           DENICE
               I don't know.
                  (shakes head slowly)
               I don't think so.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (holds hand out)
               Try.

Denice freezes, stands still in the rain, and then
silently, swiftly shakes her head <no>.
                              
                            TRENT
               Please?
                              
                           DENICE
                  (trace of panic)
               Trent...I...I can't. I'm sorry, I
               can't.

Trent reaches up and lays his hand flat against her cheek.
Denice makes no move to stop him. Her breath came in quick,
short gasps; her eyes close--
                              
                            TRENT
               Does it hurt? Does it hurt when I
               touch you?

A long pause. Denice shivers, and her hand creeps up to
cover Trent's.
                              
                           DENICE
                  (barest whisper)
               It's really you. Oh, God, it's
               really you.
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes.
                              
                           DENICE
               I guess you can hold my hand if you
               want.
                  (opens her eyes)
               Oh, Trent. Of course I still love
               you.

EXT. FLUSHING STREET, BROOKLYN PATROL SECTORS--NIGHT

Kandel Microlectrics Sales and Repair is a tiny shop on a
corner; the buildings are old and shabby. A PKF AeroSmith
patrols overhead, shining a spotlight down on the street as
Trent and Denice walk by the building next door to Kandel
Microlectrics--the Flushing Street TEMPLE OF ERIS. It's
well past closing; but the door to Kandel Microlectrics is
open. Trent and Denice enter.

INT. KANDEL MICROLECTRICS SALES AND REPAIR--NIGHT

The only light comes from the neon-laser sign flashing the
shop's name, and the display holographs showing off pieces
of stock. They are waiting for Trent inside, sitting in a
circle drinking beer and wine. OLD JACK KANDEL sits behind
the parts counter, keeping an eye on everyone. Jimmy, Jodi,
and BIRD, a 14-year old boy, are sitting together. Bird is
the first to notice them:
                              
                            BIRD
                  (nudging Jimmy)
               Now <there's> a pair of nice high
               big ones.

Suddenly everybody is talking at once; what happened to
you, etc; we need not hear the dialogue clearly. Only Jimmy
is quiet, and only for a moment.
                              
                            JIMMY
               <Quiet, damn it>!

Instant silence, Denice looks at Bird--
                              
                           DENICE
               Nice high big ones?
                              
                            BIRD
                  (flushing red)
               Oh I didn't, I mean, I mean, that's
               not what I <meant>. Your
               <cheekbones>.
                              
                           DENICE
                  (laughs)
               Biosculpture.
                              
                            JIMMY
               Bro?
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes, Jimmy?
                              
                            JIMMY
               Last time I saw this chick you were
               boosting her wallet. Who is she?
                              
                            TRENT
               Someone I used to know.
                              
                            JIMMY
                  (looking slapped)
               From before the Troubles?
                              
                            TRENT
               We were raised together. In a way
               that makes her my sister.
                              
                            JIMMY
                  (standing slowly)
               I'm going home, bro. See you in the
               morning.
                              
                            TRENT
               Tomorrow morning at the Temple
               coffee shop. 8 o'clock. I'll tell
               you what I know.
                              
                          OLD JACK
               Going to bed myself. Had a couple of
               pieces of hardware I couldn't get
               running today. If you could take a
               look at them, I'd appreciate it.
                              
                            TRENT
               Sure, Jack. I'll handle it.
                              
                            JIMMY
               Someday I'll figure you out, my man.
                              
                            TRENT
               Not tonight, Jimmy.
                              
                            JIMMY
                  (coming forward)
               What's your name, girl?
                              
                           DENICE
               Denice.
                              
                            JIMMY
               What do you do?
                              
                           DENICE
               I'm a dancer.
                              
                            JIMMY
               You're his sister?
                              
                           DENICE
               Close enough.
                              
                            JIMMY
               ...nice to meet you. Any sister of
               Trent's is okay by me.
                              
                           DENICE
               Okay? Just okay?
                  (cool smile)
               Jimmy Ramirez, I'm the <best>.

INT. HALLWAY--2ND FLOOR--NIGHT

Stairs visible in the BG. Trent opens the door to a room.
                              
                           DENICE
               You <live> here?
                              
                            TRENT
               Sort of.

Her reaction is understandable; the shabby room holds a
twin bed and a small desk with cheap, amateur computer
equipment. A bazooka is half visible in the bathroom's
shower cubicle.
                              
                           DENICE
               What is that?
                              
                            TRENT
               A bazooka.
                              
                           DENICE
               It's <yours>?
                              
                            TRENT
               It was here when I moved in.
               <Command>, lights off.

A pressure pad the size of a hand glows in the darkness,
high up on the wall.
                              
                            TRENT
               Be careful; if you touch that spot
               while the lights are on, a fadeaway
               bomb goes off.
                              
                           DENICE
               What's a fadeaway bomb?
                              
                            TRENT
               Liquid Peaceforcer drug, developed
               for crowd control. Knocks you out.
                              
                           DENICE
               Why not sonics?
                              
                            TRENT
               Sonics won't stop a PKF Elite. Put
               your hand on the pressure
               pad...<Command>, authorize Denice.
                              
                           JOHNNY
               Denice is authorized.

Sudden brightness: an entire section of the wall slides
backward nearly a meter, showing an ascending stairway. A
squirt gun is clipped to the stairwell wall.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (on Denice's reaction)
               Fadeaway again. You can't use
               needlers on Elite; the slivers won't
               break the skin. But the skin is
               permeable to liquid; a squirt gun
               gets enough on one to put him down.

Denice looks at Trent without expression. Trent sighs.
                              
                            TRENT
               Let's go upstairs.

INT. TRENT'S APARTMENT--SIMULATED DAY

Denice stands in the brilliant sunshine, watching the waves
crash on the beach. Trent's voice comes from below her.
                              
                            TRENT
               You're blocking the stairwell.

She steps up, further into the immensity. A bright blue
tropical ocean covers the far wall--a holo of astonishing
fidelity. A kilometer or so out dolphins leap across the
waves. Denice looks up at the image of the sun.
                              
                           DENICE
               It's <warm>.
                              
                            TRENT
               It's practically real; it'll even
               give you a tan.

WE SEE the room from Denice's POV; a huge bed in one
corner, with a late model waitbot nearby. Real paper books
sit on a shelf; a desk piled with esoteric computer
equipment sits next to the books. In the center of the room
is a clear still pool of water; four meters across, a meter
deep--a bathing pond. An entire wall of the apartment is
one-way glassite, overlooking the Fringe. Denice wanders
around, silently, looking, as Trent strips off his wet
clothing. He has interesting scars. He gives the wet
clothes to the waitbot, dries himself with a towel and dons
a white terry-cloth robe. Denice turns back to Trent.
                              
                           DENICE
                  (gesturing at apartment)
               How did you do this?
                              
                            TRENT
               I stole most of it.
                              
                           DENICE
               You stole it?
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm a thief. It's what I do. Steal
               things. Mostly from other thieves. I
               bought the rest with Credit I made
               from things I stole.
                              
                           DENICE
               This must have cost--an amazing--
                              
                            TRENT
               200,000 Credits, about. Want a robe
               to wear?
                              
                           DENICE
               You spent 200,000 Credits on a
               <room?>
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm a really <good> thief.
                              
                           DENICE
               I'll take the robe...Thank you.
                              
                            TRENT
               Johnny, get Denice a robe.

The waitbot at the side of the bed rolls away.
                              
                           JOHNNY
               Coming up, Boss.
                              
                           DENICE
               That voice, that's your Image?
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes.
                              
                           DENICE
               That's not Ralf's voice.
                              
                            TRENT
               Ralf the Wise and Powerful was at
               the Complex when it got nuked. If
               he'd found new hardware, I'd have
               heard from him--he's dead.
                  (shrugs)
               It's hard to be a Player without an
               Image. Impossible. So I wrote
               Johnny. Johnny...grew on me. I was
               grieving for Ralf when I started
               coding Johnny; all I wanted was an
               Image that would filter the InfoNet,
               keep my face hidden. But we got to
               be friends. He's more alive in some
               ways than Ralf ever was.
                              
                           JOHNNY
               Gee, thanks, Boss.
                              
                            TRENT
               We've done some really great boosts
               together.
                              
                           DENICE
                  (taking robe from `bot)
               You <steal> things.
                              
                            TRENT
               I don't steal from my friends,
               Denice. I just take things that
               other people have too much of.
                              
                           DENICE
               And you decide what's too much?
                              
                            TRENT
               Comes with the job. Look, it's not
               even theft so much as
               <communication.>
                              
                           DENICE
               Oh?
                              
                            TRENT
               Words are not real. I can <say>
               something to you, Denice, but <you>
               cause the effect, based on how you
               interpret what I say. But when I
               <take> something that belongs to a
               Player whose behavior I find
               inappropriate, or a businessman
               who's harming the people he deals
               with, or when I steal from an
               ecstasy peddler, I've <touched> that
               person. They <can't> ignore what I'm
               saying to them.
                              
                           DENICE
               So you <steal> things--so people
               will listen to you?
                              
                            TRENT
               No, no. Don't be silly. Nobody ever
               listens anyhow. Mostly I steal
               because I get paid for it.
                  (grins)
               But isn't that a <great>
               explanation?
                              
                           DENICE
               Oh, Trent. I never did know when to
               believe you.
                              
                            TRENT
               Believe everything I say. Or
               nothing. The results are the same.
                              
                           DENICE
               What results?
                              
                            TRENT
               Chaos usually. But only because the
               people I hang out with have no sense
               of humor. Last week I wanted to
               dress up as Clowns from Mars and go
               to mass at the Temple next door, but
               nobody would. They're all afraid of
               Reverend Andy. Just because he once
               killed a mugger with one mighty
               blow.
                              
                           DENICE
               But you're not afraid of him?
                              
                            TRENT
               Well, I wouldn't have worn the big
               clown feet or anything. Nothing that
               would slow me down if I had to run
               away.
                              
                           DENICE
                  (laughs)
               You always were such a liar.

Trent looks away, looks back, manner growing serious.
                              
                            TRENT
               Denice...I care about Jimmy. And
               Bird, and Jodi. I came out of the
               Fringe with them and I care about
               them a lot. But--
                              
                           DENICE
               I know.
                              
                            TRENT
               --in my entire life you're the only
               person I ever loved. I don't know if
               I still love you. You're not the
               person I loved when I was eleven and
               I'm not the person who loved that
               girl. But I would have done
               <anything> to keep her from being
               hurt.
                              
                           DENICE
               Trent...It wasn't your fault.
                              
                            TRENT
               Of course it wasn't. I'm not crazy.
                  (looks slightly away)
               Denice?
                              
                           DENICE
                  (coming closer)
               I know.
                              
                            TRENT
               I took my friends, Jimmy and Jodi
               and Bird, who were successes as the
               Fringe judges success, and we left
               the Fringe in the back of an Erisian
               temple bus--because I wanted to come
               look in the Patrol Sectors. For you.
                              
                           DENICE
               For seven years I've thought you
               were dead.
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm not.
                              
                           DENICE
                  (nods; a long pause as she
                  decides; then)
               Prove it.

She moves forward into his embrace.

INT. TRENT'S BEDROOM--LATER

The wallholo shows a TROPICAL SUNSET, scarlet and orange
through the shadows of the palm trees. Trent lies on his
back, Denice cuddles up to him.
                              
                           DENICE
               Now we can look for David.
                                        
                                        FADE OUT:

INT. TEMPLES OF ERIS COFFEE SHOP--EARLY EVENING

The shop is closed. Trent sits with REVEREND ANDY. Reverend
Andy is a huge black man, an ex-professional football
player.
                              
                            TRENT
               It worries me, Reverend Andy.
                              
                        REVEREND ANDY
               Why?
                              
                            TRENT
               The Peaceforcers went to a lot of
               trouble to take me into the Down
               Plaza--and then it blew up on them--
               and since then, <silence>.
                              
                        REVEREND ANDY
               Were they regular PKF, or DataWatch?
                              
                            TRENT
               That's the weird thing. If it was
               DataWatch I'd understand--but it's
               <not.> The fellow who set that
               operation up is named Emile Garon;
               the guy's normally assigned to rebs
               and terrorists. Threats to the
               Unification--<not> Players.
                              
                        REVEREND ANDY
               All that preparation--and then no
               follow up. Peaceforcers don't
               usually give up that easily.
                              
                            TRENT
               It's been two weeks.

EXT. THE ROOF--KANDEL MICROLECTRICS--NEAR SUNSET

A hanging ladder leads from Trent's 3rd floor apartment to
the roof. The building is three stories tall, open on three
sides to the street; on the fourth side the next-door
Temple of Eris rises up another several stories. Spacecraft
track across the sky above them, toward Unification
Spaceport. A warm evening. Trent and Denice sit drinking
wine. Trent is holopainting: an image of the HOFFMAN
SPACESCRAPER. Jimmy stands watching, drunk and openly
hostile.

THE UNCOMPLETED HOFFMAN SPACESCRAPER--LONG SHOT (MATTE)

Eight blocks north, dominating the skyline. The upper third
of the building lacks exterior walls; WE SEE through the
interior, a twisted spiderweb of structural girders, with
PINK-AND-BABY-BLUE SKY VISIBLE on the far side. The bottom
two-thirds of the spacescraper is faced in black marble.
The setting sun's reflection GLOWS SCARLET against the
black marble.

ON THE ROOF--THREE SHOT, FAVORING TRENT WORKING
                              
                            TRENT
               I sort of hope they don't actually
               finish it. I love painting this
               image.
                              
                            JIMMY
               He's done three others.
                              
                           DENICE
               I wish I could paint.
                              
                            TRENT
               Probably could. Holopainting's not
               hard, not like oil or electrolytes.
               No penalty for mistakes; just erase
               and start over.

FAVORING DENICE

The sun drops swiftly; the red glow on her cheeks, the
scarlet tinge on her white cotton shirt and shorts fade as
we watch her. After a beat the roof lights come on.
                              
                           DENICE
               Art is nice. But I think sometimes
               it's not very important.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (quietly)
               I've seen you dance.
                              
                           DENICE
               It's not a calling, not something I
               do because there's nothing else.
                              
                            JIMMY
               So why do it? Aside from it's
               <easy>.
                              
                           DENICE
               I don't entirely know. I was in
               Public Labor for four years after
               the Troubles; the Gleygavass Dance
               Troupe got me out when I was
               thirteen. It's not as bad as being
               in the Fringe--Public Labor, I mean-
               -but dancing beats hell out of a
               Labor Battalion work gang. And I
               <am> good at it.
                              
                            TRENT
               I'd be sorry to see you stop.
                              
                           DENICE
               It's not <real>, you know. It's just
               entertainment.
                  (intensely)
               I want to do something real. When
               I'm finally dead, people are going
               to know I was here. <Remember> me.
               Dancing is--just dancing.
                              
                            JIMMY
               What will you do if you don't dance?
                              
                           DENICE
               Change the world. It's why God put
               us here. To make things better, so
               the people after us have a better
               life than the people who came before
               us.
                              
                            JIMMY
               Girl, you're <stoned.> Or crazy, I
               don't know.
                              
                            TRENT
               No. She's right.
                              
                            JIMMY
                  (laughs derisively)
               So two street kids, a crazy dancer
               and a thief, gon' to change the
               world. Thank you for sharing with
               me.
                  (gets in Denice's face)
               <How>?

Denice's features darken; for an instant her resemblance to
her mad father is striking.
                              
                            TRENT
               Denice, don't.

Empty bottles of wine and beer litter the roof; they
EXPLODE violently. Denice sits trembling, hands clasped
together, pinheads of blood coalescing on her skin where
the glassite struck. Jimmy backs away in a startled blur of
motion.
                              
                            TRENT
               I can't stop you. Nobody can.
                              
                            JIMMY
               She's--she's--
                              
                            TRENT
               Shut up, Jimmy.

THE TABLEAU HOLDS; and then Denice meets Jimmy's stare.
                              
                           DENICE
               So. Now you know.

INT. TRENT'S BEDROOM--DAY

The bathing pool has become a jacuzzi; water bubbles white
around Trent and Jimmy Ramirez. Jimmy is drinking a beer,
laying back in the water, staring up at the ceiling. Trent
sits upright, a cup of coffee in one hand. The hanging
ladder that leads to the roof is visible in the BG.
                              
                            JIMMY
               All this time we been friends I
               never did figure it out. She's a
               Castanaveras telepath.
                              
                            TRENT
               Yeah.
                              
                            JIMMY
               Are you?
                              
                            TRENT
               No.
                              
                            JIMMY
               You're a genie, though.
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes.
                              
                            JIMMY
               How come you never <told> me?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (slowly)
               At first I didn't trust you, man. I
               was eleven and I was afraid of
               everything. Including you. Later I
               found out you lost your mother in
               the Troubles, and there was another
               reason not to tell you. Eventually I
               <did> trust you, and by then we'd
               been together a year or two, it
               didn't seem so important what
               happened before we met.
                                        (Cont.)
                              
                        TRENT (CONT.)
                  (shrugs)
               We had something that <worked>,
               Jimmy. I didn't want to mess it up.
               I know you're prejudiced against
               genies; don't try to tell me you're
               not.
                              
                            JIMMY
               I know, I know all the things I
               said. It's just--all those years.
               You were always <so good> at
               <everything.> You hit harder than I
               do, you're smarter than I am, and my
               man, I never in my entire life saw
               <anybody> could move as fast as you
               do. I work out two hours a day, you
               work out two a <week> and you're--
                              
                            TRENT
               Perfect. I <am> a genie. Suzanne
               Montignet, the best genegineer the
               world ever saw, designed me. They
               botched the implementation. I was
               <supposed> to be a Castanaveras. I
               was raised with them. But the gene
               complex that controls telepathy, I
               don't have it. But <in design>--I am
               genetically perfect.
                  (Jimmy looks away)
               And it's <not my fault>. Nobody
               asked me how I wanted to be born.
               Nobody asked Denice either, or <her>
               parents, or anyone I grew up with.
                              
                            JIMMY
               My mother <died> because of you
               people.
                              
                            TRENT
               The Gift is only active in adults;
               Denice wasn't a telepath when it
               happened, and I'm not....I lie to
               you and it means I don't trust you.
               I tell you the truth and I'm one of
               the people you hate so bad you can
               taste it. Come on, Jimmy, you tell
               me. <What am I supposed to do>?
                              
                            JIMMY
                  (flat challenge)
               Tell me. Tell me everything, always.
               <Always>.

Trent hauls himself up out of the pool of water, stands
dripping with his coffee held loosely in one hand. He waves
to the waitbot for a towel--
                              
                            TRENT
                  (smiles crookedly at Jimmy)
               Okay. Good thing I bought beer
               today. This will take a while.

INT. TRENT'S BEDROOM--LATER--NIGHT

They're both dressed and dry.
                              
                            TRENT
               This clip has been censored so
               thoroughly most people aren't even
               aware it exists.

In the wall holofield, WE SEE a shot of Carl's MetalSmith,
taken from a great distance, rising away from the Complex.
                              
                            TRENT
               Denice says that was Carl. The
               Troubles had begun at this point;
               the telepaths were fighting back.
                              
                            JIMMY
               Carl died?
                              
                            TRENT
               Denice says so. About forty-five
               minutes later--

The HOLOFIELD DARKENS, returns showing the Complex. It
holds steady: abruptly the HOLOFIELD BLAZES, a brilliant
glare that makes Jimmy cry out and turn his eyes away.
Trent stares unblinking into the awful brightness, watching
as it fades into a mushroom cloud, climbing into the
darkened sky. Trent speaks in a dreamy voice:
                              
                            TRENT
               The Boards said at first that an
               Elite named Mohammed Vance ordered
               this. Later they said he had not.
               I'd give a lot to know.
                              
                            JIMMY
               You've mentioned him.
                              
                            TRENT
               
               Yeah. The PKF knows I'm alive; they
               know David and Denice escaped. It's
               been seven years and we're still
               free. We don't know what's happened
               to David.
                              
                            JIMMY
               So when we got set up at Calley's--
                              
                            TRENT
                  (explodes)
               I don't <know>! The PKF are so
               scared of the Castanaveras--they
               <can't> really know who I am, or
               they'd have come for me with tanks,
               not six guys in a sting. If they
               thought I was a Player--which I <am>-
               -DataWatch would be handling it, not
               this idiot Garon...
                              
                            JIMMY
               So what if they do come after you?
                              
                            TRENT
               I've handled some of it. I got into
               Bureau of Biotech records almost two
               years ago, altered the gene maps on
               record for all the Castanaveras.
               They'd have a hard time proving in
               court that Denice or I are genies.
                              
                            JIMMY
               The PKF doesn't worry much about the
               courts.
                              
                            TRENT
               If it comes to that--
                  (shrugs)
               There is no problem so large it
               cannot be run away from.

INT. KANDEL MICROLECTRICS WORKSHOP--MORNING

Trent walks downstairs, thermos of coffee in one hand. Old
Jack sits at a workbench, diagnosing a failed systerm.
                              
                          OLD JACK
               Morning, Trent.
                              
                            TRENT
               Good morning, Jack.
                              
                          OLD JACK
               Left a dead traceset on your bench.

Trent glances out front, at the utterly empty street.
                              
                            TRENT
               Okay. Anything else?
                              
                          OLD JACK
               Not really. Denice didn't come home
               last night?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (looking at empty street;
                  answers absently)
               No. She spent the night with a
               friend over in the village. She has
               early practice today...Jack?
                              
                          OLD JACK
               Yes?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (steps backward)
               You think you can handle things
               yourself this morning?
                              
                          OLD JACK
               Why?
                              
                            TRENT
               Uh, I'm going to take the day off.

ANGLE ON FRONT DOOR

The Peaceforcer hovercar drops silently out of the sky,
comes to a stop hovering, facing the storefront. The
vehicle's autoshots fire; the front door EXPLODES.
                              
                          OLD JACK
               What?
                              
                            TRENT
               Peaceforcers. Here they come.

Peaceforcers in riot armor pour through the shattered
entrance, firing needlers--

ANGLE ON TRENT AND OLD JACK--

--as anaesthetic slivers riddle them. They slump and fall.

INT. PKF HOLDING CELL--CAPITOL CITY (MANHATTAN)--DAY

Trent sits in full lotus on the floor, hands upon his
knees, eyes closed. The door curls open, and Garon enters,
wearing an immaculately tailored black and silver full
dress PKF Elite uniform. Two men in detention center
uniforms follow him in.
                              
                            TRENT
               You're Emile Garon.
                              
                            GARON
               I've been looking forward to talking
               to you.
                              
                            TRENT
               You could have called. I'm in the
               Directory...How long have I been in
               here? I've lost track of time.
                              
                            GARON
               Three days.
                              
                            TRENT
               I want my lawyer.
                              
                            GARON
               To be sure. As soon as you are
               charged with a crime, you will be
               given access to a lawyer.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (like that, is it?)
               What do you want?
                              
                            GARON
               You are Trent Castanaveras, a
               genegineered human born May 9, 2051
               at the Unification Advanced
               Biotechnology Research Facility. You
               were raised with 250 telepathic
               children, and may be a telepath
               yourself. You were the Player who
               went by the name of Ralf the Wise
               and Powerful between mid-2060 and
               2062, during which time, in the
               person of Ralf the Wise and
               Powerful, you engaged in various
               unlawful acts.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (realization dawns)
               You used to be DataWatch. Before you
               became an Elite.
                              
                            GARON
               I've--what is the Americanism--gone
               out on a limb. My superiors do not
               believe you are who I <know you to
               be>. Therefore, M. Trent, I have
               submitted a request to the court for
               permission to braindrain you. Have
               you ever seen someone to whom this
               has been done?
                              
                            TRENT
               I've audited descriptions.
                              
                            GARON
               It is not a pleasant procedure; it
               leaves little behind of the original
               personality. There is sufficient
               evidence you are the Player who
               called himself Ralf the Wise and
               Powerful that I think a judge will
               grant the braindrain...Of course, if
               you cooperate we can avoid that.
                              
                            TRENT
               What have I been charged with?
                              
                            GAR0N
               The charges <will be> theft, data
               cracking, illegal use of Information
               Network resources and conspiracy to
               incite others to attempt the same.
               If it is proved you are a
               Castanaveras, the Prosecutor General
               will add the charges of crimes
               against humanity.
                              
                            TRENT
               You're completely bugfuck.
                              
                            GARON
               You deny it?
                              
                            TRENT
               Of course. If I was a telepath--or
               even a Player--what the <hell> would
               I be doing working six days a week
               in a computer repair shop?
                  (shrugs)
               But, if it comes to braindrain, I'll
               confess to anything you want.
                              
                            GARON
               That may not be necessary. Have you
               heard of a man named Mohammed Vance?
                              
                            TRENT
               Nope.
                              
                            GARON
               He is a Commissionaire of the PKF,
               and knows your people well. I've
               sent for him--and he will be here
               Wednesday.

INT. DETENTION CELL--NIGHT

The door opens. A black American Peaceforcer, PKF #3,
carrying an unholstered needler, throws a snakechain to
Trent.
                              
                           PKF #3
               Get it on. Your attorney's here.
                              
                            TRENT
               It's late.
                              
                           PKF #3
               No shit.

Trent fastens the snake on his wrists, steps out into a
short hall. The glowpaint is dim; things are quiet. PKF #3
follows Trent. They pass through a check station separating
the visitor areas and the detention cells, come to a door
of a conference room; the door curls open.

ANGLE ON DOORWAY

Denice sits at the conference table, in a black suit, hair
swept up in a bun. She fixes glittering eyes on PKF #3.
                              
                           DENICE
               Please come in here.

The muscles around PKF #3's eyes relax; he steps into the
conference room. With Trent's squirt gun, Jimmy appears and
squirts him with fadeaway, then drags him forward through
the closing door. Trent stands blankly on the other side.
The door opens again a second later.
                              
                            JIMMY
               Why are you just standing there?
               We're here to rescue you!

Trent steps inside the conference room, looking around.
                              
                            TRENT
               What?
                              
                           DENICE
               We're here to--
                              
                            JIMMY
               They're gonna braindrain you--
                              
                            TRENT
               What are you doing?
                              
                           DENICE
                  (brief silence)
               We told them Jimmy was your lawyer
               and we came to rescue you.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (utter horror)
               You're <what>?
                              
                            JIMMY
               Rescuing you?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (incipient hysteria)
               I don't <want> to be rescued. That's
               why I <have> an attorney!
                              
                            JIMMY
               Tonight <I'm> your attorney. And
               we're getting you out.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (looking back and forth)
               Oh, Lord, Lord, please no. You can't
               be doing this. Do you know what
               you're doing?
                  (shouts at them)
               I was two to one to walk on this.
               Until you broke in here they had
               nothing on me. <Nothing>!
                              
                            JIMMY
               Are...you sure?
                              
                           DENICE
               We talked to the lawyer; she said
               they wanted to brain-drain you. She
               said Mohammed Vance was coming.
                              
                            TRENT
               Drain requires a court order, and
               that can be appealed. The appeal
               process can take up to nine months.
               The last time Vance saw me I was
               <eleven>. He's going to identify me
               <today>? Oh my God I'm <fucked>.
                              
                           DENICE
               Wait, wait--we can just <leave>.
               Wait until this guy wakes up, I tell
               him we were never here, have him
               walk you back to your cell, and
               Jimmy and I just <leave>.
                              
                            TRENT
               We are three floors down in a PKF
               Detention Center in the middle of
               Capitol City. You've been
               holographed eight or nine times
               getting here. Every checkpoint you
               <went> through choked on your ID!
                              
                           DENICE
               I told them to let us by. They did.
                              
                            TRENT
               Tomorrow the PKF goes through
               reports, and there's going to be a
               chain of stations where Daimara and
               Ramirez fail admittance. How does it
               happen that somebody failing
               admittance at the first checkpoint
               even <makes> it to the second? They
               drag in the watch officers and
               interrogate them and suddenly it
               becomes clear that none of them
               remember things the way they
               <happened.> You left them a <calling
               card>, Denice!

Denice and Jimmy both look utterly grim.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (fighting for control)
               I appreciate what you've tried to
               do. But you've just shot everything
               to hell...And it looks like you get
               to rescue me as soon as I'm done
               rescuing you. Jimmy, help me get
               this guy's thumbprint on the snake.

INT. OPERATIONS ROOM--DETENTION CENTER--NIGHT

A glassite-walled room where prisoners are checked through.
Trent, in his prisoner's jumpsuit, stands well away from
the glassite door while Denice knocks. There are two
civilians inside; call them TED and CAROL. Ted, a young
man, opens the door as an Carol, an older woman, objects. A
sensible objection. Denice barely seems to touch Ted, a
hand to his wishbone and a toe to his ankle; he crashes
backward. Carol touches a stud, and the alarms go off.
Trent moves inside, takes over one of the systerms while
Jimmy covers Carol. Ted is unconscious. Denice moves out in
the hall, eyes closed, doing <something> with her
telepathic gift. Trent's hands fly across the keyboard. In
the field WE SEE messages moving by at great speed--
INTERFACE ESTABLISHED; OUTSIDE RESOURCES; 1150005-TRNT;
INTERFACE ESTABLISHED; WAITING; CONNECTED; PASSWORD? Trent
types, <CRIME PAYS>. Denice ducks back inside, followed by
BUZZING SONICS, the FLASH of laser light.
                              
                           DENICE
               Jimmy! Company!

Jimmy fires the anaesthetic needler into Carol's neck, and
throws the needler to Denice. Denice plucks it from the
air, sticks her hand outside the door frame and fans the
hall. The weapons fire CEASES ABRUPTLY; Denice and Jimmy
move out into the hallway.

INT. THE HALLWAY OUTSIDE--NIGHT

Denice and Jimmy harvest weapons from the fallen PKF. The
SIRENS SHRILL.

INT. THE OPERATIONS ROOM--NIGHT

Johnny's image appears in front of Trent.
                              
                           JOHNNY
               Boss!

Jimmy appears in the doorway, autoshot cradled in his arms.
                              
                            JIMMY
               It's going up, man! We gotta move.
                              
                            TRENT
               Hang in there, I won't be long.
                              
                           JOHNNY
               I've been scared, Boss.
                              
                            TRENT
               They blocked my inskin, Johnny, I
               couldn't call. You know where I am?
                              
                           JOHNNY
                  (checking; impressed)
               Capitol City, Boss. PKF Boards.
                              
                            JIMMY
               <Trent>!
                              
                            TRENT
                  (yells back)
               <Hang on>! Johnny, can you find any
               pictures of Denice, or Jimmy, any
               mention of them in the PKF Boards,
               and erase them?
                              
                           JOHNNY
               I think so, Boss.
                              
                            TRENT
               How badly can you damage the Boards
               here?
                              
                           JOHNNY
                  (holo glances around)
               From this location? With the
               security clearances this location
               has? You must be kidding. They won't
               know what hit them. Want me to take
               it all down, Boss?
                              
                            JIMMY
               As your attorney, I advise you to
               <run now>!
                              
                            TRENT
               Johnny, I'm coming to get you. If I
               don't make it there, melt the Image
               coprocessor and go replicant.

There is another round of firing, which ceases abruptly.
                              
                   DENICE (V.O. TELEPATHY)
               <Trent!> They're coming from the
               level above us, at least fifteen
               Peaceforcers and they're all armed.
               Lasers, Trent, and I <can't> stop
               all of them. We have three floors to
               go before we make it to the surface;
               we have to go. <Now>.

CLOSE SHOT--ON TRENT

In the ABRUPT SILENCE Trent looks around the nearly empty
room, at the unconscious civilians, staring about himself
with an expression of wonder. From the novel: "It seemed to
him that he stood at a juncture, a myriad of paths falling
away from that moment, from him; that he had reached a
place that was both departure and homecoming all in one. He
was distantly aware of Jimmy Ramirez, felt the hot touch of
Denice's thoughts hovering at the edge of his mind, and he
felt suddenly, in that instant, very calm and fine, as
though he had, at long last, reached the destination and
the purpose for which he had always been meant."

Trent looks at Johnny.
                              
                            TRENT
               Trash the place.

He turns and runs.

INT. DETENTION CENTER--A MAZE OF CORRIDORS & STAIRS

NIGHT--A SERIES OF SHOTS

They run down long corridors, trading fire with PKF.
Johnny's holo appears at various points, guiding their
choice of direction. At the 2nd floor the stairwell doors
are locked; Jimmy blows them open with an autoshot. Trent
enters, a needler in one hand; Jimmy follows, and Denice,
carrying a laser, brings up the rear. Two PKF intercept
them in the stairwell; Trent shoots the first, but the
second is wearing armor and the anesthetic needles bounce
off him. The Peaceforcer carries a hand laser; he fires
down on them, catching Jimmy's right arm just below the
elbow, shearing it cleanly off. At this point Trent does
what all stupid criminals do; he throws his gun. <Hard>. It
hits the Peaceforcer in the face like a brick, staggering
him backward. Denice flows up the stairs, breaks the man's
kneecap and sends him over the rail to the floor below.
Jimmy sits staring at his cauterized stump. Trent hauls him
to his feet, pulls Jimmy's left arm around his shoulder,
and they proceed.

INT. MAIN LOBBY--DETENTION CENTER 1ST FLOOR--NIGHT

Sirens howl, emergency lights flash on and off. An Elite
stands in the lobby, waiting. The door at the far end of
the lobby bursts open, and Denice comes through, now
carrying her laser and Jimmy's autoshot; she is followed by
Trent, helping Jimmy. They slow at the sight of the Elite;
unlike the Elite, who takes the opportunity to shoot at
them with the laser in his fist. Denice drops the autoshot
and hits the floor, firing with the laser; it has no effect
aside from leaving glowing tracks on the Elite's uniform.
Trent throws Jimmy to one side as the Elite's laser sweeps
through the space where they stand; Trent dives under the
beam, rolls, coming up with the autoshot. He flicks it to
full auto and walks forward firing, hammering the Elite
with round after round. The first impact knocks the Elite
off balance; his laser slashes a wild line across the
walls. Trent advances, firing, and the Elite is hammered to
his knees. Behind Trent, Denice has Jimmy in a fireman's
carry. The Elite gets his hand up again, and Trent shifts
aim; the next autoshot blasts mangles the Elite's hand, and
the laser inside it. Trent closes, flicks the autoshot off
full auto, firing only to keep the Elite off his feet.
Trent fires the last two times like Rambo, holding the
autoshot with one hand, reaching behind his back with the
other--and comes out with the squirt gun filled with
fadeaway. The Elite looks up at Trent, clearly expecting a
shotgun blast to the face--
                              
                            TRENT
               Sleep tight.

He squirts the man; the Elite's eyes close, and he falls.

EXT. THE DETENTION CENTER--NIGHT

A pair of double doors explode open--they're supposed to
<slide>. Trent and Denice run through, carrying Jimmy
between them, and across the wide swath of dew-dampened
grass that separates the Detention Center from the street.

ANGLE ON STREET

Five cabs, two PKF AeroSmiths, and a black Chandler sedan
are parked on the street. Trent and Denice run toward the
sedan. The front left seat is reclined; Bird sits up, rubs
his eyes.
                              
                            BIRD
               What took you so long?

EXT. CHANDLER SEDAN--MANHATTAN 2069--EARLY MORNING

Moving through morning traffic. The windows are darkened.

INT. CHANDLER SEDAN--DARKENED WINDOWS

The holocams transmit images of the streets outside. Trent
sits in the front seat with Bird, working on the car's
onboard InfoNet terminal. He cycles through InfoNet
channels; finally he switches it off, turns to Denice in
the back seat.
                              
                            TRENT
               A lot of stuff on PKF Boards, but
               none of them seem to know where we
               are. I called my Image, but he's not
               answering the phone; he either shut
               down, or DataWatch got him.
                  (looks at Jimmy)
               How's Jimmy?
                              
                           DENICE
               Sedated. He needs medical help.
                              
                            TRENT
               We'll take him to the Red Line
               Hotel.

Trent stares at the holo of the outside world; at the maze
of spacescrapers, elevated streets and skywalks, the pre-
dawn pedestrians, cars and cabs and buses. Trent SAYS
SOMETHING:
                              
                           DENICE
               What?
                              
                            TRENT
               I need my Image.

EXT. THE <RED LINE> HOTEL--EARLY MORNING--ESTABLISHING

INT. <RED LINE> HOTEL--A TWO ROOM SUITE--EARLY MORNING

Jodi and DOCTOR JANE are waiting inside as Trent and Denice
carry Jimmy in. Doctor Jane takes one look at Jimmy--
                              
                         DOCTOR JANE
               Double for this, triple if the
               Peaceforcers did it. On the bed!

The doctor slices Jimmy's shirt off and goes to work; Trent
watches briefly, goes into the next room. Jodi follows him.

INT. SECOND ROOM--EARLY MORNING
                              
                            JODI
               How bad is it?

Trent undresses, wads up the blue prison jumpsuit and
tosses it to Jodi.
                              
                            TRENT
               Burn this.
                  (heads into bathroom, into
                  shower; CAMERA FOLLOWS)
               If you mean Jimmy, he'll be okay. He
               needs a new hand cloned. Can you get
               me clothes?
                              
                         JODI (V.O.)
               What do you need?
                              
                            TRENT
               A suit. Conservative cut, it needs
               to hang loose. Shoes I can run in.
                  (runs water)
               And an emblade.
                              
                         JODI (V.O.)
               Maybe. I'll check.
                              
                            TRENT
               How about an Image coprocessor?

ON JODI

She's punching orders into a systerm--WE SEE images of
clothing, shoes, computer equipment, knives.
                              
                            JODI
               At 6 A.M? Not a chance.
                              
                        TRENT (V.O.)
               Bird should be OK; he was in the car
               the whole time. Jimmy and Denice--it
               depends on wether my Image wiped
               <all> the Peaceforcer records from
               yesterday.
                              
                            JODI
               When will we know if he got them?
                              
                        TRENT (V.O.)
               If they don't come looking for Jimmy
               and Denice by evening, he did.
                              
                            JODI
               What about you?

Trent steps out of the shower and starts drying himself
with one of the hotel towels.
                              
                            TRENT
               What about me?

A service `bot trundles into the room with a suit and
shoes; it places an emblade next to the shoes.
                              
                            JODI
               What are you going to do?
                              
                            TRENT
               They had me almost four days. They
               have my prints, my face, my retinal
               scan, all in secure offline storage.
               They <don't> have my gene map; until
               a couple hours ago I don't think
               anybody believed Garon that I was a
               genie. Biosculpture can take care of
               what they do have on me. Right now
               my Image isn't answering when I call
               him and even if he was I don't have
               hardware for him to come over to. I
               have to go get him.

Trent brushes by Jodi, into the main room.

INT. MAIN ROOM--EARLY MORNING
                              
                           DENICE
               Where are you going?
                              
                            TRENT
               You know.
                              
                           DENICE
                  (fighting exhaustion)
               That's the one place they're <sure>
               to be expecting you.
                              
                            TRENT
               I lost Ralf the Wise and Powerful.
               I'm not losing Johnny.
                              
                           DENICE
               Trent, he's just a <program>.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (voice soft and even)
               So are you.

ALLEYWAY BEHIND THE TEMPLE OF ERIS--REAR DOOR--DAY

Trent knocks; Reverend Andy opens the door, not looking
surprised to see Trent.
                              
                        REVEREND ANDY
               Come on inside.

Reverend Andy ushers Trent into his office, closes the door
and drops into an overstuffed leather chair behind his
desk.
                              
                            TRENT
               How's Old Jack?
                              
                        REVEREND ANDY
               Staying with us. Peaceforcers sealed
               the shop, but they don't seem
               interested in him. He'd be asleep
               right now; it's been a tough week
               for the poor guy, he ain't young no
               more...You know I run a clean
               Temple, no politics, no contact with
               the Claw.
                              
                            TRENT
               I know.
                              
                        REVEREND ANDY
               What they say about you, being a
               genie, it's true?
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes.
                              
                        REVEREND ANDY
                  (disturbed)
               OK. You read minds?
                              
                            TRENT
               No.
                              
                        REVEREND ANDY
                  (relieved)
               Thank the Good Lord and his Prophet
               Harry. I've got secrets, matters of
               the confessional and the Tax Boards,
               I wouldn't want to see spread
               around.... What'd you come back for,
               Trent?
                              
                            TRENT
               My Image coprocessor, Reverend.
               They're watching the entrance to the
               shop. But we have walls in common.
                              
                        REVEREND ANDY
               You owe me one, Trent.
                              
                            TRENT
               You got me out of the Fringe, man. I
               owe you for things I'm never going
               to be able to pay back.
                              
                        REVEREND ANDY
                  (standing)
               You don't pay it back, little
               brother. You pay it forward.

INT. TEMPLE KITCHEN--BASE OF THE WALL--DAY

Trent cuts through with the emblade, stores it and lowers
the chunk of wall to the ground. He waits for a response--
nothing. He crouches and crawls through the hole.

INT. KANDEL MICROLECTRICS--1ST FLOOR--DAY--UNDER WORK BENCH

Trent comes out underneath a bench. He balances on his
hands, listening. Nothing. He moves into the walkway; the
stairs are to his right, the entrance to his left.

TRENT'S POV--THE 1ST FLOOR ENTRANCE

A PKF hovercar is across the street, watching the shop.

ANGLE ON TRENT

HE BACKS TOWARD THE STAIRWAY, STILL STOOPING, WHEN WE HEAR A
QUIET METALLIC CLATTERING, THE SOUND OF STEEL ON TILE.

Picture a SCARY metal scorpion about three meters long, one
high, with lots of sharp edges; a PKF HUNTING WALDO. It
scrabbles like an alligator toward Trent--

ON TRENT--TRACKING SHOT

Trent turns and sprints to the rear of the shop, up the
stairs and cuts left into the small bedroom with the hidden
stairway, into the bathroom and comes up with the bazooka
in the shower--safety <off>.

ON THE HUNTING WALDO

It scrambles up the stairs.

ON TRENT--2ND FLOOR BATHROOM

Trent kneels with the bazooka; the sight pops up and Trent
waits until he sees the movement in the doorway--

--and depresses the firing stud. THUNDER. The recoil slams
Trent into the wall behind him at the same moment the shell
strikes the waldo and EXPLODES. Flame blasts into the
bathroom, washes over Trent. He comes to his feet the
instant the flame subsides: there is nothing left in the
hallway, including the hallway.

ANGLE ON 1ST TO 2ND FLOOR STAIRWAY

Well, what's left of it. A gaping hole, two meters around,
looks directly down into the shop, through the clearing
smoke; WE SEE the upturned features of Emile Garon. Their
eyes meet and then Trent is on his feet--
                              
                            TRENT
               <Lights off>!

In the darkness, Trent slaps the glowing pressure pad on
the wall, sprints up the stairs as the wall seals itself
closed.
                              
                            TRENT
               Johnny, blow the fadeaway!

ANGLE ON 2ND FLOOR BEDROOM

As a chunk of the wall explodes outward, inundating the
room with a spray of fadeaway.

INT. 3RD FLOOR APARTMENT--DAY--ON TRENT

At the large tub, Trent lays down on his stomach, reaches
in with his right arm and pulls a handle in the side of the
tub. The bottom of the tub falls away, pouring the small
pool down into the stairwell, filling it completely.
                              
                           JOHNNY
               Welcome home, Boss.

Trent rises, runs to the workstation. His handheld is
plugged in; the small image co-processor holding Johnny is
plugged into the handheld. Trent rips it free, pushes it
into a coat pocket. Johnny's voice comes from the pocket:
                              
                           JOHNNY
               The records wipe on your voice
               command, Boss. Say, "Kwazy Wabbit."

A bright thin red beam reaches up from the floor
immediately before Trent's eyes. Trent stares at it--
                              
                            TRENT
               Kwazy Wabbit.

--the laser beam tracks in a rough circle around Trent.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (screams toward floor)
               This floor is real wood! <Do you
               know what this floor cost?>

He reaches up, grabs the cord hanging from the ceiling, and
pulls down the folding stairs which leads to the roof, as--

ANGLE ON 3RD STORY FLOOR

--the floor beneath him falls entirely away, and WE SEE
Garon, standing on the 2nd floor stairs, looking up.

EXT. THE ROOF OF THE BUILDING--DAY--ANGLE ON SKYLIGHT EXIT

Trent scrambles up onto the roof, turns to look down: Garon
leaps STRAIGHT UP, from the 2nd floor stairs, through the
hole in the 3rd story floor, and catches hold of the bottom
rung of the folding stairs. Trent pulls his emblade free,
turns it on, and just before Garon reaches him cuts the
stairs free. Garon and the stairs fall together in COMPLETE
SILENCE, 15 meters down to the 2nd floor.

ANGLE ON TRENT--TRACKING

Trent comes to his feet; his arm is still dripping wet.
                              
                    JOHNNY (from pocket)
               Is this as bad as I think, Boss?

Trent walks around the edges of the roof, looking down. On
the north side of the building two PKF cars are parked; the
west side is also covered by a PKF vehicle. The south side
overlooks the small dead-end alleyway, out behind the shop;
a PKF squad car is parked at the entrance to the alleyway,
but the alley itself is empty. The east side of the
building is the Temple, rising up another two stories:
Trent is three stories up with no way down. Trent turns
back as Garon pulls himself up onto the roof. He's actually
been injured in the fall; blood trickles down his cheek.
His hair and uniform are pale with plaster dust.

TWO SHOT--GARON & TRENT AT OPPOSITE SIDES OF FRAME

In the BG, someone, probably Trent, has graffitied the
Temple wall: "If you can keep your head while all about you
people are losing theirs, then perhaps you have
misunderstood the situation."
                              
                            TRENT
               You're hurt.
                              
                            GARON
                  (looking warily around)
               Elite cyborgs are heavy, M. Trent.
               We do not fall well and we do not
               like heights.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (taking a slow step back)
               I suppose you want me to surrender?
                              
                            GARON
               I do not want to hurt you. You are a
               very precious thing and I would not
               see your skills wasted.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (another step backward)
               I don't doubt it. I was a slave
               through most of my childhood because
               of the Unification's appreciation
               for our unique skills.

Trent comes to a halt, his heels touching the small rise
that runs around the roof edge.
                              
                            GARON
               It <was> you I chased, seven years
               ago, in the InfoNet. So young, to
               have done so much.
                              
                            TRENT
               There are advantages to being young.
                              
                            GARON
                  (takes a step forward)
               Oh?
                              
                            TRENT
               Agility. And I'm told we heal fast.

Garon takes several quick steps forward, stops--
                              
                            GARON
               We are three stories up, child.
               Please don't.

Trent looks up at the high gray dome of the sky. His eyes
come back down from heaven; he stares at the PKF Elite.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (softly)
               Catch me if you can.

The cyborg moves toward Trent in a blur of motion so fast
WE BARELY SEE it. Trent pushes backward, out over the edge.

TRACKING SHOT--ON TRENT

He turns as he falls, strikes the ground and rolls into the
fall like something made of rubber, and comes out of the
roll moving. For an impossible instant it looks good, and
far end of the alleyway, become aware of Trent. Trent
struggles back to his feet and hobbles run toward a garage
at the alley's dead-end. He does not look back, though WE
SEE the PKF vehicle moving forward.

NEW ANGLE--FROM BEHIND TRENT

Trent reaches the garage, slaps the pad so fast it has no
time to ID his palm, waits a moment and then, furious,
touches it <slowly; BEEP.> The door curls open from the
ground up; Trent drops, wriggles through under the opening
door--

INT. THE GARAGE--DAY

The car is a `61 Chandler MetalSmith Mark III; the model
Carl owned, sleek and fast. Trent pops the canopy and
slides into the seat before the garage door is halfway up.
Ignition; the MetalSmith rocks once and then lifts
smoothly, hovering. The rear turbines come up with a deep-
throated hum. The garage door is almost open. WE SEE a pair
of stun rifles protrude from the AeroSmith's shell--and
Trent punches the throttle. The MetalSmith lunges forward,
hammers into the PKF vehicle, pushing it back, twisting it
so the vehicle's front fender smashes tightly into the side
of the alley, and the car blocks Trent's passage. Trent
lights the Metalsmith's jets at redline; the Metalsmith
hangs on the PKF vehicle for just a second, jets roaring,
and then leaps up like a living thing and shoves its way
straight up and over the top of the AeroSmith.

EXT. THE METALSMITH--DAY--TRACKING

Trent zooms down the alley, hits the street at 70 kph, and
tries to turn left. The MetalSmith yaws, climbs up onto the
slidewalk and smashes into a beauty parlor. In a PKF
AeroSmith across the street, a Peaceforcer looks startled.
Trent uses the nose jets, pulls away from the shop and back
onto the street. The Peaceforcer behind Trent, making an
excited U-turn to follow, smashes into a cab instantly.
Trent reaches Flushing, turns right onto Flushing and joins
the flow of vehicles moving evenly down the street.

INT. METALSMITH--DAY--ON DASHBOARD HOLO, REAR CAMERA VIEW

Two Aerosmiths hover high over the flow of traffic, gaining
on Trent. They haven't spotted Trent yet, but it's just a
matter of time. The rear CAMERA ZOOMS IN on one AeroSmith:
Garon is driving it.
                              
                            TRENT
               I don't like this I don't <like>
               this.

Trent looks through the windshield; WE SEE, eight blocks
away, the incomplete Hoffman Spacescraper.

ON TRENT
                              
                            TRENT
               "We do not fall well and we do not
               like heights."

Trent touches the MetalSmith's controls; the flight wings
snap open and the car surges forward and up.

EXT. THE METALSMITH AND PKF PURSUERS--DAY

A long, dizzying climb almost straight up, toward the
towering shell of the spacescraper. Two AeroSmiths are
close to Trent, but a small fleet follow the lead pair. The
two close to Trent fire their sonics at him; the sonics
make the canopy and car vibrate. The spacescraper grows
swiftly, to a towering monolith that blocks out half the
sky. Tiny squares on the spacescraper's sides become huge
offices; people inside flock to the windows to watch the
pursuit.

INT. THE METALSMITH--DAY--COMING CLOSE TO SPACESCRAPER
                              
                            TRENT
               We're too low, Johnny, and this car
               won't go straight up. We're going to
               have to circle.

EXT. THE METALSMITH--DAY

They're a good kilometer beneath the uncompleted sections
of the spacescraper; Trent circles around the two square
block-wide spacescraper, rising, lazy loops that take the
MetalSmith up 300 meters per circuit. The AeroSmiths, more
aircraft than car to begin with, have no such limitation;
they catch Trent and all 15-odd focus their sonics--

INT. THE METALSMITH--DAY

Trent yawns, the stunners taking their toll; abruptly the
spacescraper's exterior walls are gone. The MetalSmith
makes one very wide loop, and then, smiling dreamily, Trent
flies the MetalSmith at 150 kph STRAIGHT INTO THE
SUPERSTRUCTURE.

TRENT'S POV--<IMPACT>

BLACKNESS--SOUND COMES UP SLOWLY AS TRENT AWAKENS
                              
                    JOHNNY (from pocket)
               ... Boss! Damn it, Boss, what's
               happening? I'm stuck in the goddamn
               handheld and I can't see a thing!

EXT. THE METALSMITH--DAY--ON TRENT

The car is jammed on its side between a pair of twisted
girders. All that is left of the canopy are jagged shards.
                              
                    JOHNNY (from pocket)
               Boss? Talk to me, I'm <scared>--

Trent's eyes open slowly. His voice is blurry:
                              
                            TRENT
                  Be quiet.

Johnny falls silent. Trent pulls his injured right leg out
from under the dashboard. It's hard; the dashboard has
crumpled in on him. He gets it free, climbs up through the
shattered canopy. He is three kilometers above the world,
balanced in fierce, cold winds. The MetalSmith has
penetrated 20 meters into the spacescraper. There is no
floor, only the intersecting beams and girders, and a drop
of ten stories to the last finished floor of construction.

WIDE SHOT--TRENT IN FG, GARON'S AEROSMITH IN BG--

--hovering outside the hole Trent tore in the spacescraper.
Garon FIRES STUNNERS. Trent struggles off the car, onto a
girder; hangs by his hands and drops to the next floor
down. He smashes into a rough plastisteel beam like a sack
of bricks.

TRACKING--ON TRENT

He lays there, unmoving, almost unconscious. After a long
pause he raises <just> his head, slowly, looks through the
maze of structural plastisteel--there's a long column of
some sort in the center of construction. He pushes himself
up and begins crawling. Behind Trent we HEAR A METAL
SCRAPING SOUND; the CAMERA STAYS ON TRENT. Trent nears the
center; the narrow beam he is on intersects a wider beam,
and he hauls himself to his feet. He walks down the beam,
right knee shaky, freezing with each gust of wind. He comes
to a shaft 30 meters on a side; the wide beam runs
completely around the shaft. A control next to Trent says
UP--DOWN--STOP. Trent looks down--

TRENT'S POV--SHOT OF THE MAGLEV PLATFORM

The maglev platform is nine floors beneath Trent. Trent
pushes the UP button; the maglev starts up--

WIDE SHOT--TRENT AND GARON

Trent looks up again and Garon is standing on the other
side of the maglev shaft. Trent is shocked; he sways, grabs
at the nearest girder and holds tightly to it. Garon grins
at Trent, stiff face creased in an unnatural position.
                              
                            GARON
               You are under arrest.
                              
                            TRENT
               You got out of the car--in this wind-
               -to make an <arrest>? You're the
               craziest thing I've ever seen.

The maglev platform is now two stories below them; Trent
realizes what a horrible mistake he's making, and jabs at
the DOWN button. Garon shrugs, starts walking around the
long shaft, toward Trent.
                              
                            GARON
               M. Trent, this is pointless. Will
               you not surrender?

Trent looks closely at the girder he holds; small ridges
are cut into the surface of the plastisteel. Trent tests
with his fingertips; shallow, but he can get a grip; he
reaches up, digs his fingernails in, and starts climbing.

ON GARON

Garon stares; then the laser flicks out from his fist.

ON TRENT--CLIMBING

The laser touches plastisteel near Trent's hand. Trent
climbs around to another side of the girder; the girder is
now between him and Garon. Garon's laser waves around him
some more, but does not strike him, and stops--

ON GARON--CLIMBING

Climbing after Trent, and having difficulty with it because
of his weight. Plastisteel beams crumble when his hands dig
into them.

ON TRENT--TRACKING

He climbs up onto the floor he crashed on. He makes good
speed through the tunnel of snapped girders and beams in
which he crashed. Garon's AeroSmith is precariously perched
just inside the tunnel, wobbling in the wind. Swaying with
exhaustion, Trent glances down--

ON GARON--TRENT'S POV--CLIMBING

Garon is half done with the climb. 200 kilos moving upward
on his fingers and toes; something the Elite designers
clearly never anticipated.

ON TRENT--CLIMBING
                              
                            TRENT
               Goddam fanatics, I <hate> fanatics.

Trent moves on, skirting the wreck of the MetalSmith.

TRENT'S POV--OUTSIDE THE SPACESCRAPER

20 or 30 scarlet AeroSmiths circle the spacescraper.

ON TRENT

He has nearly reached Garon's AeroSmith. He looks back--

TRENT'S POV--ON GARON

Garon comes up on the wrong side of the wrecked tunnel; he
gains on Trent, not realizing he cannot cross the empty
space to the side Trent and the AeroSmith are on.

TWO SHOT--AT THE AEROSMITH

They both reach the AeroSmith at the same moment; except
that Trent's on the right side of the wrecked tunnel, and
Garon's not. Garon stands motionless, arm extended and
rigid, glowing cherry laser in his fist pointed at Trent.
                              
                            GARON
               If you move I will kill you.
                              
                            TRENT
               Did you lock the car behind you?

Trent touches the pad; Garon fires, and the canopy swings
up, directly into the beam, and darkens instantly as it
distributes the laser's heat away from the point of
contact. Trent looks at the cyborg through the smoky gray
canopy:
                              
                            TRENT
               Emile? I'm leaving now. Good-bye.

The laser ceases. Through the clearing canopy, WE SEE
Garon's fist drop; then Garon SCREAMS, a wordless sound, an
expression of elemental rage--and leaps.

SLOW MOTION

Ten meters across a gaping chasm. We have time to watch the
dark gray streaks fading from the canopy, to watch Garon
float across the chasm, above the drop of three kilometers,
to come down solidly upon the surface of the AeroSmith;
time to watch the rage on Garon's features flicker
slightly, as the AeroSmith tips, slides, and falls a single
story with Garon's fingers tearing into the vehicle's
surface in a desperate attempt to get a hold. The AeroSmith
drops one floor, nose-down, comes to a screaming stop
against one of the large vertical beams, its rear-mounted
engine smashing down into the passenger compartment.

Garon's fall never slows. He strikes the same beam as the
AeroSmith and bounces, a surprised look frozen on his
features, bounces off still reaching for some hold, out
into the empty air and the long drop to the distant Earth.

NORMAL MOTION RESUMES--ON TRENT

Standing in the wind, watching Garon fall.

EXT. HOFFMAN SPACESCRAPER--DAY

The top floor of finished construction. The maglev comes to
a halt, and Trent steps off; in <bad> shape. He staggers
among vertical beams, toward a pair of maglev elevators
against a far wall. The elevator opens; he steps inside and
nearly collapses to the floor.
                              
                            TRENT
               <Command>, street level.

The elevator drops. A brief silence--
                              
                    JOHNNY (from pocket)
               Is it safe to talk?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (totally out of it)
               Why not.
                              
                           JOHNNY
               We're in the Hoffman Spacescraper.
               I've got access to the InfoNet
               through their radio packet service.
                              
                            TRENT
               Call Denice. Have her send me a cab.

INT. SPACESCRAPER MAINTENANCE AREA--DAY--A LONG HALLWAY

The elevator doors open. Trent staggers out. TWO JANITORS
play chess not far away; they stare at him but do nothing.
Trent limps down the hallway, to a door; the door won't
open to his palmprint. An optical jack sits beneath the
pressure pad; Trent jacks in his handheld and lets Johnny
talk to the door. After a beat the door opens. Trent
removes his handheld--

EXT. SURFACE STREET--DAY--TRACKING SHOT

Ordinary morning traffic, pedestrians in the city. Trent
joins the flow of pedestrians and, grimacing with effort,
walks without limping to the corner. The streetholos say
BEDFORD and BROADWAY. Trent looks aimlessly around--

EXT. SURFACE STREET--A BLOCK AWAY--DAY

Five PKF patrol vehicles surround a disturbance, a smashed
area where <something> came down out of the sky in a hurry.

ON TRENT--CORNER OF STREET

A Peugeot hovercab pulls up in front of Trent as a PKF
AeroSmith rounds the corner and begins a sweep down
Bedford. The cab's rear door opens outward--
                              
                           DENICE
               Get in!

Trent does his best to comply; he collapses forward.

INT. SUITE--THE <RED LINE> HOTEL--OUTER ROOM--NIGHT

Jimmy sleeps; Trent stands looking at him. Jimmy's stump is
bandaged; Trent wears shorts and his right knee is heavily
bandaged.
                              
                            TRENT
               It's been good, man.

INT. INNER ROOM--NIGHT

Denice is in bed, sheets drawn up to cover herself. Trent
enters from the outer room; his handheld is on the dresser.
                              
                           DENICE
               I really hate saying goodbye to
               people. I'm not good at it.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (shrugs, sits on bed)
               No PKF bulletins on you and Jimmy;
               no reason for you to run.
                              
                           DENICE
               I talked to Johnny while you were
               being operated on....He's a real
               person. He hurts about things.
                              
                            TRENT
               I know.
                              
                           DENICE
               You were right to go get him.
                              
                            TRENT
               I know. Johnny?
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               Yes?
                              
                            TRENT
               Shut yourself off for a while.

INT. INNER ROOM--LATER--NIGHT

Trent and Denice lie together, only half awake.

INSERT--SHOT OF WINDOW

PKF hovercars and spyeyes search over the city in a massive
manhunt, their lights smeared by condensation on the
window.

INT. INNER ROOM--NIGHT
                              
                           DENICE
               When will you go?
                              
                            TRENT
               Soon. Not yet.
                              
                           DENICE
               Where?
                              
                            TRENT
               They need to be drawn away from you.
               If I die it's just me. But David's
               probably dead; if you die then
               there's nothing left of what they
               were, and the Unification has won.
                              
                           DENICE
               Where?
                              
                            TRENT
               Free Luna, Mars, the Belt CityStates-
               -somewhere outside PKF control.
               They'll never stop hunting me now.
                              
                           DENICE
               I wish we hadn't rescued you.
                              
                            TRENT
               It's okay. Look out for Jimmy when
               I'm gone. He's impulsive. Don't let
               him <know>--he wouldn't like that.
                              
                           DENICE
               Be careful. You're all I have left.
                                        
                                        DISSOLVE TO:

INT. A BEDROOM IN PARIS--NIGHT

Mohammed Vance, now seven years older, sits at the side of
his bed, on the phone with Capitol City. His wife sleeps by
him.
                              
                     PKF #4 (PhoneHolo)
               Sir, you are directed to report for
               duty in Capitol City by ten hundred
               hours today.
                              
                            VANCE
               What the hell for?
                              
                     PKF #4 (PhoneHolo)
               We have an Elite killed here.
                              
                            VANCE
               Killed?
                              
                     PKF #4 (PhoneHolo)
               His body was dumped from the top of
               the Hoffman Spacescraper.
                              
                            VANCE
               Names?
                              
                     PKF #4 (PhoneHolo)
               Sir?
                              
                            VANCE
               The murderer and the Elite, idiot.
                              
                     PKF #4 (PhoneHolo)
               Yes, sir. PKF Elite Sergeant Emile
               Garon. The murderer is a minor New
               York area thief or Player; he
               escaped PKF custody early Monday.
                              
                            VANCE
                  (obviously moved)
               Emile is dead?
                              
                     PKF #4 (PhoneHolo)
               Yes, sir.
                              
                            VANCE
               And the thief/Player/murderer's
               name, if I might inquire?
                              
                     PKF #4 (PhoneHolo)
               Sir? Trent.
                              
                            VANCE
               Trent what?
                              
                     PKF #4 (PhoneHolo)
               It's all we have, sir. Just Trent.

INT. HOVERCAB--AT GEORGE WASHINGTON BRIDGE--DAY

Trent sits alone, eyes closed. His hair is dyed black, his
features are subtly different--and he's wearing a dress PKF
uniform. A briefcase sits next to him. The RADIO IS ON.

EXT. BRIDGE--DAY--ON COPS APPROACHING TRENT'S CAB

Cops search the cars as they cross into Manhattan. Inside,
Trent's eyes stay shut. A cop checks a cab readout--
                              
                             COP
               PKF business! Priority routing!

The cab pulls out of the line and proceeds forward.

INT. HOVERCAB--DAY--ON TRENT
                              
                       RADIO ANNOUNCER
               --hunt continues. Elite Commissioner
               Vance assures the public that the
               murderer will be caught shortly.
                              
                            TRENT
               I don't think so.

INT. UNIFICATION SPACEPORT--INTERPLANETARY CUSTOMS--DAY

Something along the lines of LAX or O'Hare; the problems of
herding vast numbers of people around don't change just
because you're going to the moon instead of London. A long
line of people are waiting to get through customs; Trent
breezes up, briefcase in hand, and cuts into the line.
Nobody protests; they're clearly used to this from PKF.
                              
                      CUSTOMS INSPECTOR
               Name?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (gives her his handheld)
               Captain Vance. I'm late, so let's
               <move> it, okay?

The woman plugs Trent's handheld into her scanner; a
official-looking military holo of Trent appears, labeled
VANCE, MOHAMMED, CAPTAIN DATAWATCH, SB03-031254. PASSPORT
CURRENT. Ticket information flashes by then, and
stabilizes. PORT OF EXIT: UNIFICATION SPACEPORT; ARRIVAL:
FREE LUNA. The last item startles the woman; she looks at
Trent oddly.
                              
                      CUSTOMS INSPECTOR
               <Free Luna>?
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes indeed...<Official business>.
                              
                      CUSTOMS INSPECTOR
                  (returns handheld
                  reluctantly)
               Pad Eight. Have a nice day.
                              
                            TRENT
               One seventh of your life will be
               spent on Mondays.

EXT. <THE CAPTAIN SIR DOMINIC FLANDRY>--DAY

This is a shuttle the way the <Titanic> was a boat. A BIG
ship, a scyscraper with landing fins. SpaceFarers
Collective LT. SIDNEY ZINTH, Trent's age and size, waits as
a limo with the plate UNIFICATION COUNCILOR glides up.
Trent gets out. Zinth's look tells Trent that he is the
greater of two evils, any two evils. A REALLY BIG maser is
holstered at Zinth's hip.
                              
                            ZINTH
               You're Vance.
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes. Oh yes of course.
                              
                            ZINTH
               Captain, you are <late>. We had to
               hold this ship for you.
                              
                            TRENT
               I stole that car to be here on time.
               That should count for <something>.
                              
                            ZINTH
               With due respect, sir, you're
               obviously a powerful downsider...but
               the SpaceFarer's Collective is not a
               part of the Unification, and you
               have no authority. Now you will seat
               yourself--quickly.

INT. PASSENGER BAY--THE <FLANDRY>--DAY

There are fifty acceleration couches, all in use but the
one Trent is strapping into. MELISSA DU BOIS, gorgeous and
23, is strapped into the seat beside him. The other
passengers are mostly male; all are young and extremely
fit.
                              
                            TRENT
               Hi. Hi there. Name's Mohammed Vance,
               DataWatch. Is there anything I can
               steal for you?
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (French accent)
               That is <not> funny.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (instantly)
               No? Then how about this?

He tucks his thumbs into the corners of his mouth and
stretches his cheeks, eyes bugging out, tongue lolling.
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (with an effort)
               No. That is not funny either.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (wiping fingers dry on shirt)
               Is something wrong?
                              
                           MELISSA
               You are late.
                              
                 INTERCOM VOICE (in French)
               Acceleration, two minutes.
                              
                            TRENT
               It wasn't my fault.
                              
                           MELISSA
               Okay.
                              
                            TRENT
               Are you sure I can't steal anything
               for you?
                              
                           MELISSA
               Is this a Robin Hood procedure? No,
               wait, Robin Hood routine, <joke>.
                              
                            TRENT
               Don't be silly. I'm a capitalist. I
               <had> Merry Men once, but I got rid
               of them. Gloomy bastards didn't
               laugh at my jokes.
                              
                           MELISSA
               You were late for lift.
                              
                            TRENT
               People keep telling me that.
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (reaching hand out)
               My name is Melissa du Bois. What is
               your <real> name?
                              
                            TRENT
               Mohammed--
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (withdrawing hand)
               I <said> that was not funny. You are
               hardly Commissionaire Vance.
                              
                 INTERCOM VOICE (in French)
               Acceleration, one minute.
                              
                            TRENT
               What? What?
                              
                           MELISSA
               I said--
                              
                            TRENT
               You know Commissioner Vance?
                              
                           MELISSA
               We've met.

Trent has to open his mouth twice before the words come
out.
                              
                            TRENT
               You're a Peaceforcer.
                              
                           MELISSA
               Well, of course.

Trent stares around like a frenzied, doomed rat.
                              
                            TRENT
               You're--
                  (strangling sound)
               --<with them>?
                              
                           MELISSA
               We are all headed for the Elite
               conversion facility at L-5; it is a
               stopover before Luna. We are in the
               top one twentieth of one percent of
               all the PKF on Earth...It surprised
               us all that you got a seat. We
               chartered this ship a month ago. You
               must have pull; you bumped an
               officer from the seat you are in.
                              
                 INTERCOM VOICE (in French)
               Ten...nine...eight...
                              
                            TRENT
                  (laying back)
               Oh no. Oh my God no.
                              
                           MELISSA
               Are you all right?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (screaming)
               Fine! Just fine! You--

His voice is drowned out in the THUNDER OF ACCELERATION.

EXT. SPACE

--as the <Flandry> boosts into space.

INT. <FLANDRY> PASSENGER BAY--LATER--ON TRENT

Under one gee acceleration. Trent's handheld is on his lap.
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               It's not my fault. You said get a
               ticket. I <did>.
                              
                      TRENT (infovoice)
               I didn't want a ship full of PKF!
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               You should have said so! I tell the
               spaceline computer you're Mohammed
               Vance, of course it put you on a PKF
               flight!
                              
                      TRENT (infovoice)
               You're brain-damaged, you know that?
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               And just who wrote me?
                              
                      TRENT (infovoice)
               ...okay, that's a point.
                              
                           MELISSA
               Aren't you a little young to be a
               Captain?
                              
                            TRENT
               DataWatch is a young man's game.
                              
                           MELISSA
               What is your name?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (big smile)
               Johnny. Johnny Smith.
                              
                           MELISSA
               It's a pleasure to meet you, Johnny.

INT. LIMBO--AN EMPTY BLACKNESS

Chai'ell November, The Name Storyteller.
                              
                         STORYTELLER
               A thousand years later, when the
               second largest religion in the
               Continuing Time was the Church of
               His Return, children and adults,
               human and otherwise, on millions of
               worlds, read Melissa du Bois'
               account of her first meeting with
               Trent.

The Storyteller gestures, and an image appears next to him;
Melissa du Bois, in middle age. It is clearly a recording
from an interview, and not a live person:
                              
                           MELISSA
               He <had> no equals, save in some
               ways Mohammed Vance, the man who
               hunted him all those years. The
               meticulous preparation for which he
               later became known was not so
               evident when I first met him--not
               surprisingly, of course; he was
               running for his life, from us.
                  (pause)
               I think I did not know the meaning
               of the word humility, then. I was
               one of the best of the PKF; and
               before Trent I had never failed at
               <anything>.

EXT. THE <FLANDRY>--DECELERATING TOWARD L-5

L-5 is visible at the far edge of the frame. The ship
approaches it ass-backward, very slowly. L-5 is a space
station that Stanley Kubrick would recognize; a double
donut around a cylinder. The <Flandry> approaches the non-
rotating central cylinder.

INT. <FLANDRY> PASSENGER COMPARTMENT--LATER--FREE FALL

The lights are dimmed. Most of the PKF sleep. A few read or
watch movies on their handhelds; the fields glow in midair.
A cabin wall shows a holo of the approach to L-5.
                              
                           MELISSA
               It's lovely, isn't it?
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes. Yes, it is.
                              
                           MELISSA
               When I was very young, I thought I
               would be an astronomer. My parents
               indulged me, bought me a telescope
               and set it up on the balcony.
                  (sighs)
               I had no skill for it, not the math,
               and not really the inclination. My
               father is PKF Elite; after my
               brother died he wanted very much for
               me to follow him in the
               service...You listen well.
                              
                            TRENT
               Did you ever regret joining the PKF?
                              
                           MELISSA
               No. I know it's different for you,
               because America fought against the
               Unification, and was occupied. I
               suppose you lost friends when you
               joined?
                              
                            TRENT
               ...it happens.
                              
                           MELISSA
               It is easier for us. Many in my
               family fought in the Unification.
                              
                            TRENT
               On the side that won.
                              
                           MELISSA
               Yes--you know, I've been thinking.
                              
                            TRENT
               Is that unusual?
                              
                           MELISSA
               I was wondering....I would like to
               see you when I am back downside. It
               cannot be soon, I will be on
               restricted duty at L-5 for the next
               six months. But when I do...well,
               some people are prejudiced against
               Elite. And you are a nice boy...
                              
                            TRENT
               <Nice>?
                              
                           MELISSA
               Nice.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (what to do, what to do)
               ...all right.
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (genuinely pleased)
               Good. I can reach you through
               Capitol City DataWatch?
                              
                            TRENT
               Oh. Yes, certainly of course. Sure.
                              
                           MELISSA
               Good. Something to look forward to.
                              
                            TRENT
               Sure.

A gentle shiver is transmitted through the hull.
                              
                           MELISSA
               We must be docked at L-5.
                              
                 INTERCOM VOICE (in French)
               Debarking will be delayed; we will
               be quarantined until a chase ship
               from Earth arrives.
                              
                      TRENT (infovoice)
               Johnny? Did that say what I think--
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               Yes. A chase ship is coming from
               Earth.

Trent smiles at Melissa, unstrapping himself. He puts his
handheld in his briefcase, and, hooking his foot into the
grips on the deck, gets out of his seat.
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (flat cop voice)
               Where are you going with your
               luggage?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (frozen smile)
               To find out what's going on. Don't
               worry, stay here, I'll be back.

INT. <FLANDRY>--CORRIDOR--FREE FALL

Trent floats in mid-corridor, the hatch to the passenger
bay shutting behind him.
                              
                            ZINTH
               Vance!

Trent turns. Zinth's head pokes upside-down into the
corridor from the deck above.
                              
                            ZINTH
               The Captain wants you! <Now>! What
               the <hell> have you quarantined our
               ship for?
                              
                            TRENT
               Right. I'm Vance and the quarantine
               order has my name on it. And there's
               a chase ship coming from Earth.
               Well, I quarantined your ship
               because of <that>!

Trent points down the corridor behind Zinth. Zinth turns to
look; Trent slugs his upside-down chin. Zinth's head
bounces against the side of the access-way. Trent grabs
Zinth and pulls the SpaceFarer down into the corridor with
him.
                              
                            TRENT
               Man, I think you broke my hand.

INT. THE <FLANDRY>--A BATHROOM--FREE FALL

Trent is mostly done changing clothes with Zinth; Zinth's
underwear is bright scarlet.
                              
                            TRENT
               I don't usually do this on the first
               date.

He puts on Zinth's magnet-soled boots; the boots snap to
the deck with a loud <click>. Trent takes Zinth's maser
from its holster and turns it over in his hands. Finally he
finds a slot on the butt; he pushes, and the power supply
ejects. He tosses the power supply and holsters the weapon,
picks up his briefcase and leaves.

<FLANDRY> CARGO BAY--AT THE COUPLING RINGS--FREE FALL

Trent enters from the deck above. The bay is huge; it
occupies the entire deck over the engines. There are
already three <Flandry> crew at the coupling rings, their
feet anchored to the deck by magnetic slippers. Two of the
three are women; one woman--her uniform name patch says
CAPTAIN SAUNDERS--is quite old.
                              
                          SAUNDERS
               Lieutenant, what--

Trent aims the useless maser at them. Saunders takes it in-
-
                              
                          SAUNDERS
               What have you done to Lt. Zinth?
                              
                            TRENT
               I told him to look behind himself
               and he did so I slugged him. Don't
               SpaceFarer kids learn that trick?
                              
                          SAUNDERS
               <What have you>--
                              
                            TRENT
               He's tied up in the john on Deck
               Two. Alive. Move away from the
               coupling rings.
                              
                          SAUNDERS
                  (as they comply)
               What are you going to do?
                              
                            TRENT
               I thought about trying to steal the
               <Flandry>, but it's too big. So I
               figured I'd steal a Peaceforcer ship
               instead. It's not like they're not
               already pissed at me.
                              
                          SAUNDERS
               What do they want--

Trent pulls his squirt gun free and shoots them all in the
face, shutting Saunders up. He pushes their unconscious
bodies into a corner of the cargo bay. He looks at his
briefcase a moment--flips it open, takes his handheld, a
tiny spool of some material, an emblade, and stows them
all, with the squirt gun, in Zinth's slightly overlarge
coat. He tosses the briefcase away, and steps up to the
coupling rings. The rings cycle.

INT. L-5 ENTRY STATION--ANGLE ON TRENT--FREE FALL

Trent walks through. Three PKF await him; two, GALLOIS and
CHANTON, are in uniform. The third wears pajamas--a PKF
Elite, ROGR COLBERT. The two in uniforms point lasers at
Trent.
                              
                            TRENT
               Lt. Zinth of the <Flandry>. What is
               the meaning of this?
                              
                           COLBERT
               Elite First Sergeant Rogr Colbert.
               Why are you ignoring our quarantine?
                              
                            TRENT
               The SpaceFarer's Collective is not
               signatory to your damn Unification,
               cyborg, and your quarantine's not
               worth spitting on. Who's your C.O.?
                              
                           COLBERT
               I report directly to Commander
               Gricault.
                              
                            TRENT
               I must request that you allow me to
               see Commander Gricault. Otherwise
               our ship will head on for Luna; and
               you can send your own ship to pick
               up your trainees--wherever we choose
               to dump them.
                              
                           COLBERT
                  (thinks it over; decides)
               Gallois, Chanton. No one else comes
               through. Kill them if you must.
                  (smiles at Trent)
               Come with me, Lieutenant, and I will
               take you to Commander Gricault.

INT. A CORRIDOR--FREE FALL--ON TRENT AND COLBERT--TRACKING

The few EXTRAS in the corridors are dressed evenly in PKF
uniforms and civilian clothing; some walk, some "fly."
Colbert heads toward a bank of elevators.
                              
                            TRENT
               Where are we going?
                              
                           COLBERT
               Commander Gricault's offices are in
               the North Donut. He likes his
               gravity. This had better be good,
               Lt. Zinth. We're on Capitol City
               time here, not Greenwich, and it's
               the middle of <his> night.

They reach the line of elevators that lead from the central
cylinder down to the North Donut; a door opens, and they
enter together. (The elevator walls are transparent
glassite. Right now all they show are the walls of L-5's
central cylinder.) The door closes and the elevator starts
to descend; Trent pulls his squirt gun free and shoots
Colbert in the head. Colbert does not fall immediately; as
he staggers, the laser in his fist comes alive. Trent
ducks; laser light flares through the space Trent has just
been, carving a line in the elevator wall. Colbert lapses
into unconsciousness and Trent punches for STOP--the
elevator hesitates, then returns to the central cylinder.
The door opens; Trent stands in front of the elevator,
waiting, watching people go by. A couple of them look at
him curiously. A YOUNG MAN in uniform, Trent's height,
comes by--
                              
                            TRENT
               Excuse me--could you come here?

The man does; Trent squirts him, pulls him into the
elevator as the door closes.

LATER--THE ELEVATORS--FREE FALL--ON TRENT

Stepping out of the elevator, wearing a PKF uniform.

INT. THE ELEVATOR--ON THE CONTROL PANEL

The button marked DOWN has been pushed; the elevator
descends into the North Donut....the elevator leaves the
central cylinder, and travels down one of the spokes toward
the North Donut. Starlight and Earthlight blaze in on the
unconscious Peaceforcers inside.

INT. L-5--A LONG CORRIDOR--FREE FALL--ON TRENT

Trent walks, stopping at doors, glancing inside. We're not
sure what he's looking for--

EXT. L-5--ON THE ELEVATOR

A quarter of the way to its destination.

INT. L-5--A LONG CORRIDOR--FREE FALL--ON TRENT

He glances into a room labeled <Physical Therapy>--and
there, in a corner, is a systerm like those we have seen
before. Trent seats himself, jacks his handheld in, and
closes his eyes.

COMPUTER SPACE

Johnny is already there; A dark window appears, and Trent's
image appears in it.
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               This is very bad.
                              
                      TRENT (infovoice)
               Tell me about it. Where am I?
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               Hold on a second...here we go.

A schematic of L-5 appears, floating three-dimensionally in
front of Trent. A long fat cylinder enclosed by a pair of
counterspinning wide fat donuts. A bright RED SPARK APPEARS
at the bottom of the image, marked <You Are Here.>
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               The <Flandry> is here, at the South
               Bay. You're here, not far from South
               Bay; the Peaceforcers keep their
               ships here, up at North Bay. You're
               going to steal a ship?
                              
                      TRENT (infovoice)
               That's the idea.
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               Bad idea. They'll shoot you dead,
               Boss. Weapons emplacement, here.

A GREEN SPOT GLOWS on the map, very near North Bay.
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               Lasers, a mass driver gun, fusion
               missiles.
                              
                      TRENT (infovoice)
               Show me the pilot's locker.
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               Here.

A SPOT GLOWS BLUE, also near North Bay.

INT. L-5--PHYSICAL THERAPY ROOM--FREE FALL

As Trent unjacks from the systerm and leaves.

EXT. L-5--ON THE ELEVATOR

As it leaves the spoke, dropping into the North Donut.

INT. L-5--CENTRAL CYLINDER MAIN CORRIDOR--FREE FALL

This passage runs the length of the central cylinder. It
seems to go on forever. It's 15 meters in diameter, 5-
sided; PKF in magboots walk on every surface; a few fly.
Traffic gets sparser as Trent moves north. Other walkways
branch out from this one in all directions, up and down and
to the sides. It's <very> disorienting: nothing in the
architectural layout gives any sense of up or down.

INT. L-5--NORTH DONUT ELEVATOR BANKS--GRAVITY

PKF #5 takes a step toward the opening elevator doors--sees
the bodies inside, and immediately sprints to a
communication panel on the corridor wall.
                              
                     PKF #5 (in French)
               Emergency at Lift 13!

INT. L-5--CENTRAL CORRIDOR--FREE FALL--ON TRENT
                              
                        PKF VOICE #2
               ALERT, ALERT!

Trent jerks to a stop, looking around--in his surprise,
he's managed to detach himself from the deck. He finds
himself drifting, nobody near him, out of reach of any
grips.
                              
                        PKF VOICE #2
               ALIEN IN THE INSTALLATION; ALL
               PERSONNEL RETREAT TO SECURED AREAS.
               LOCKDOWN <IN EFFECT>. PERSONNEL IN
               CORRIDORS WILL BE SHOT WITHOUT
               WARNING. REPEAT, LOCKDOWN <IN
               EFFECT>.

Trent rips off one of his boots, throws it away from him as
hard as he can. It pushes him back down to the floor; he
braces himself and kicks off down the corridor, "flying"
fast.

ON TRENT

Flying down the corridor. He is moving at a fair clip when
WE SEE the next Peaceforcer, walking down the corridor,
watching Trent fly toward him.

ON PEACEFORCER

Showing growing alarm.

ON TRENT--

--pulling the useless maser from its holster--

ON PEACEFORCER

Showing great alarm.

ON TRENT--COLLIDING WITH PEACEFORCER--

--in a tangle of arms and legs. With the maser in his left
hand Trent swings at the Peaceforcer, smashes it against
his temple; the reaction sends Trent tumbling slowly
backward to fetch up against the "ceiling." The
Peaceforcer's head bounces AUDIBLY off the bulkhead; he
hangs limp in midair, unmoving, beads of blood forming in
the air beside his skull. Trent kicks back over to the man,
checks his pulse--and relaxes.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (to no one in particular)
               Thank you.

He pulls the Peaceforcer to the nearest doorway, opens it,
and shoves the man in. Then THE LIGHTS GO OUT.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (beat; in utter blackness)
               What a bad day.

INT. CORRIDOR--LOW LIGHT--FREE FALL--ON TRENT

Trent makes his way slowly along the corridor, lit only by
the glow of occasional tell-tales, trying door after door.
Most don't open; the ones that do are darkened storage
rooms and the like. He's nearing the end of the extremely
long central corridor; he <must> be near North Bay. He
tries another door--

INT. BRIGHTLY LIT PILOT'S LOCKER--FREE FALL

Three men are inside, waiting out the lockdown. As the
three men turn to look at the opening door, Trent pushes
through, maser in hand.
                              
                            TRENT
               <Don't move>!
                  (all three freeze)
               Turn away from me.

The one Peaceforcer who is looking straight at Trent looks
at the maser in his left hand, then turns very carefully
away.
                              
                            TRENT
               Do anything stupid and I'll cut you
               clean in half.

Transferring the maser to his broken right hand, Trent
pulls his squirt gun from his coat and squirts each of the
three. No problem on the first two--on the third man, the
squirt gun barely squirts, and Trent has to hit him. Then,
for the first time, Trent looks around. There are lockers
along the bulkheads, pressure suits hanging next to the
lockers, helmets hanging next to the p-suits; what a
pleasant surprise.

INT. PILOT'S LOCKER--LATER--FREE FALL--ON TRENT

Trent is wearing a form-fitting PKF p-suit, helmet in one
hand. A holster on the right hip of the p-suit has a PKF
laser tucked into it. Trent takes the laser out, looks at
it with obvious distaste, and replaces it with Lt. Zinth's
maser--the maser without a charge cartridge. The helmet
hangs on a snap just over his back, so that he can reach
back and pull it forward and closed in a single movement.
The suit's gloves snap onto his hip belt, opposite the
holstered maser.

One of the three unconscious PKF has begun snoring.
                              
                            TRENT
               Pleasant dreams.

Trent goes to the door at the other end of the room, opens
it and looks out.

TRENT'S POV--NORTH FLIGHT BAY

A wide, broad circular area, 40 meters wide, 5 high.
Airlocks are arrayed around the perimeter; green lights
over some airlocks, red lights over others.

TIGHT ON TRENT--MOVING FORWARD

--into the flight bay. Two steps forward, three--

CU ON THE MASER

A hand snakes forward, lifts the maser from Trent's
holster.

ON TRENT

A foot smashes him in the ribs; the impact lifts one of
Trent's feet from the floor. He re-attaches it to the deck,
and turns to look into Lieutenant Zinth's maser.
                              
                       MELISSA DU BOIS
               Hello, Trent.
                              
                            TRENT
               Uh...uh..
                              
                           MELISSA
               Fifteen minutes ago I found out who
               you were. Thirteen minutes ago I
               finished reading your dossier; a
               fascinating document. Ten minutes
               ago I located a systerm, found North
               Bay, and headed here.
                              
                            TRENT
               Uh...Melissa...
                              
                           MELISSA
               Technically I am AWOL. They would
               not give me a weapon either...Thank
               you for the loan.
                  (smiles humorlessly)
               You are an intriguing man, Johnny
               Smith.
                              
                            TRENT
               Melissa, you're making--
                              
                           MELISSA
               A mistake. I know, Johnny Smith, you
               are innocent. You did not do it.
                              
                            TRENT
               I <didn't>, he <fell>. Really.
               Killing is <wrong>.
                  (touches ribs gingerly)
               I think you broke a rib.
                              
                           MELISSA
               It is curious; you have made me feel
               stupid. And I am not a stupid woman.
               My superiors did not expect you to
               make it to North Bay. How could he
               even find it, they said...I have
               great respect for you, Trent. I
               shall be present at your execution.
                              
                            TRENT
               You really liked me, didn't you?
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (stares; in disbelief)
               You incredible egomaniac. Do you
               realize what you have <done> to me?
               I will be known for the rest of my
               life as the Elite candidate Trent
               spent 4-1/2 hours sitting next to
               while a Level Three alert was on for
               him. My name is a joke! <My career
               is ruined>!
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm going to steal a spaceship now.
                              
                           MELISSA
               No, you are not.
                              
                            TRENT
               You're not going to shoot me.

Trent heads for the airlocks, turns back as she speaks:
                              
                           MELISSA
               Trent....I am truly sorry.

She pulls the trigger. There is a gentle, quiet <click>.
Trent smiles at her.
                              
                            TRENT
               There's no charge cartridge.

Melissa stares at him, then at the maser, then at him
again.
                              
                        TRENT (CONT.)
               I pulled the charge. I didn't want
               to hurt anybody.

Soft, meaningless noises issue from her throat.
                              
                        TRENT (CONT.)
               I understand how you feel, but
               there's this spaceship--

Melissa SCREAMS and launches herself at him. Trent ducks,
grabbing her by the ankles as she sails by overhead. He
pulls off her magboots and then her shoes, pushing her
lightly away, away from any possible grip. Trent turns away
as she struggles in midair, heading on. At one of the green-
lit airlocks, he turns--
                              
                        TRENT (CONT.)
               Melissa!

She looks in his direction.
                              
                        TRENT (CONT.)
               Air circulation should take you to
               the wall in a few minutes, but if
               you're really in a hurry, take off
               your clothes and <throw> them;
               <physics>. For every action there is
               an equal and opposite reaction.

Melissa begins ripping her shirt off; Trent turns back,
cycling through the airlock.
                              
                        TRENT (CONT.)
               I'd stand around and react if I had
               time.

INT. ROLLS ROYCE YACHT--TRACKING TRENT

A two-person yacht. Just inside the airlock, it says:
<UNIFICATION SPACE FORCE, ROLLS ROYCE 2066, #312>. Trent
goes forward into the pilot's cabin, seats himself in the
left-hand seat. In the right hand-seat is a handsome,
elderly man, reading on his handheld. The name patch on his
p-suit says <COL. WEBSTER, USF>. Webster barely glances at
Trent; through the following, Trent <never looks> at
Webster.
                              
                           WEBSTER
               You're late, pilot.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (studying controls; snaps)
               I've heard that one before.
                              
                           WEBSTER
               ...you're not my pilot.
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm not anybody's pilot.
                              
                           WEBSTER
               What the hell does the PKF think
               it's up to?
                              
                            TRENT
               I don't think anybody but Melissa
               really knows.

Trent finds an access panel on the deck at his feet, and
yanks it open.
                              
                           WEBSTER
               Are you under the impression, young
               man, that being a Peaceforcer gives
               you--
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm not a Peaceforcer.

Inside the panel WE SEE a mass of circuits; Trent pulls a
flat plug free from its fitting and exposes a standard
optical handheld jack. He plugs his handheld in--
                              
                           WEBSTER
               You're not...you're...
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm a thief.
                              
                           WEBSTER
               A th--
                              
                            TRENT
               A thief. Trent the thief.

The control panel comes alive, displays lighting up.
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               Oh, great. A yacht. You couldn't
               find <anything> slower?
                              
                           WEBSTER
               Who is that?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (finally facing Webster)
               Colonel, you're wasting my time, and
               I don't have much. You're old, you
               don't have a weapon...uh, do you?
                              
                           WEBSTER
               Well, no, but...
                              
                            TRENT
               You don't have a weapon. I'm strong,
               smart, young, and I have a <really
               bad> attitude problem. I know kung
               fu, karate, aikido, shotokan, judo,
               and lots of other Asian words, so
               would you <please> shut up?
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               Good autopilot, we're in luck
               <there>....

A HOLLOW CLANG as the airlock disconnects.
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               Airlock disconnected. This vehicle,
               Rolls-Royce Yacht 2066, Inventory
               #312, tells me it's "unarmed." Green
               "communications" laser of 4.4
               megajoules capacity--
                              
                            TRENT
               <Mahatma Gandhi>!
                  (to Webster)
               You have a communications laser for
               what, talking to Alpha Centauri?
                              
                           WEBSTER
               This is a military--
                              
                            TRENT
               Oh, shut up.
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               Drive is proton-boron fission, non-
               radiative, produces a sustainable
               top acceleration of 8 gees,
               initiated by antimatter. Oh <my>....
               Boss, the antimatter can be used as
               a particle weapon.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (real horror--to Webster)
               Where do they <get> people like you?
                              
                           WEBSTER
               Where--
                              
                            TRENT
               Shut up.
                              
                           JOHNNY
               I need help, Boss.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (closing eyes to go Inside)
               Be right with you.
                  (Webster tenses)
               Don't do that.

Webster swings his handheld at Trent. Trent does not even
open his eyes; with his swollen right hand he slaps
Webster's arm away, punches Webster solidly.
                              
                            TRENT
               Please don't do that.

THE INFONET

Trent steps through a gateway, morphing into Johnny. A
schematic of the Rolls appears. Cameras, mounted in various
spots on the Rolls, are highlighted--
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               Navigation cameras <here>--

YACHT'S FORWARD CAMERA VIEW OF NORTH BAY--REALTIME

The Rolls is the only one of its type; the rest are
slipships, single-occupant fighter craft. Schematics appear
for the ships, with the fuel tanks highlighted in red--
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               Fuel lines <here>--

EXT. NORTH BAY--REALTIME

The Rolls' attitude rockets light, and it pulls away from
the launching bay, out into clear space. A ridiculously
outsized laser--the "communications" laser--points at a
cluster of five slipships. The laser pulses once.

The entire North Bay explodes.

COMPUTER SPACE

WE WATCH it as Johnny watches it, in a slow Realtime
window. Fuel sweeps out from the shot slipship in a wash of
flame. The flame rips into nearby slipships, tearing
through hullmetal; the chain reaction, slipship after
slipship exploding, is awesome. The flame touches a
refueling tank; the resulting majestic explosion sends the
Rolls tumbling out into space. The Rolls' attitude rockets
slow the tumble--

INT. ROLLS--REALTIME--TWO SHOT

Trent opens his eyes, his expression one of horror; the
Rolls is still tumbling, though far less so, and slowing
with every instant.
                              
                           WEBSTER
               ...shall become in him a fountain of
               water, springing up unto life
               everlasting. Receive their souls,
               Lord.

The flame clears; amazingly, the flight bay is still
pressurized.
                              
                            TRENT
               Do you see that? The flight bay is
               still pressurized. I probably didn't
               kill anyone. <Isn't that great>?
                              
                           WEBSTER
               That's a miracle.
                              
                            TRENT
               No, actually it's <paranoid
               engineering>, they probably designed
               the flight bay to withstand this
               sort of thing, the PKF is terribly
               damn insecure.
                              
                           WEBSTER
               Really?
                              
                            TRENT
               Really. I'm not sure why.
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               There's still the weapons
               emplacement, Boss.
                              
                            TRENT
               Can't use the laser--
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               We might set off a fusion missile.
                              
                            TRENT
               I wouldn't mind nuking L-5--
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               But there are people.
                              
                            TRENT
               Killing is <wrong>.
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               Even if they're PKF who deserve it.
                              
                            TRENT
               Right. Fortunately we still have our
               fineline.
                  (to Webster)
               I'm sorry, but my squirt gun is
               empty. Can I have your handheld?

Webster hesitantly gives his handheld to Trent.
                              
                        TRENT (CONT.)
               I am so very sorry my squirt gun is
               empty.
                              
                           WEBSTER
               Why are you sorry?
                              
                            TRENT
               It was filled with fadeaway. If it
               wasn't empty I could shoot you with
               it and say, "Old soldiers never die,
               they simply fadeaway."

Colonel Webster doesn't laugh. Trent's smile vanishes, and
he slugs Webster in the side of the head with the handheld.
Webster slumps, unconscious.
                              
                            TRENT
               Your problem is you have no sense of
               humor.

EXT. WEAPONS EMPLACEMENT

The Rolls drifts nearby. Trent stands in the open airlock,
suited up, with the roll of fineline in one hand. He leaps
across empty space to the weapons emplacement. Unreeling
the fineline, he begins weaving a web of fineline over the
laser tracking mirrors; WE SEE the fineline actually
slicing into the metal. There are four clusters of
missiles; Trent gives them the same treatment. When he is
done it looks as though they're webbed in shining spider
silk; Trent leaps back to the yacht.

EXT. ROLLS--IN SPACE, ACCELERATING TOWARD MOON

INT. ROLLS--UNDER TWO GEES ACCELERATION--ON TRENT

He is in his p-suit, helmet off, sweating, struggling to
breathe. Next to him Webster is suited up, helmet closed,
tied into his seat. Abruptly there comes a BEEPING SOUND--
                              
                            TRENT
               Johnny...cut...acceleration.

The rockets die back; abruptly Trent breathes more easily.
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               Incoming call, Boss. Wide-beam laser
               from L-5. Answering now.
                              
                            TRENT
               Hi. Hi there.

Trent pulls Webster's helmet off, checks the unconscious
man's respiration and heartbeat, pupil dilation--all OK.
Abruptly a HOLO OF MOHAMMED VANCE appears over the control
panel; INTERCUT between Trent and Vance's holo as needed.
                              
                            VANCE
               Trent.
                              
                            TRENT
               That's a <good> guess. You must be--
                              
                            VANCE
               Commissionaire Mohammed Vance.
                              
                            TRENT
               So tell me, Vance, where'd I screw
               up?
                              
                            VANCE
               A bit too much flashiness, Trent.
               It's a common mistake among the
               young. You shouldn't have stolen the
               Unification Councilor's car.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (mutters)
               I was late.
                              
                            VANCE
               He called it in. We were looking for
               travel-related crimes, assuming you
               might be fleeing; and it was the
               work of a moment for me to realize
               that the Mohammed Vance who boarded
               the <Flandry> was not myself.
                              
                            TRENT
               Thanks. I was curious. What now?
                              
                            VANCE
               I presume you are not interested in
               surrendering yourself for trial and
               subsequent execution?
                              
                            TRENT
               What a <smart> cyborg.
                              
                            VANCE
               I thought not. Well, then, we can
               spend the next... seventeen minutes
               and fifteen seconds or so discussing
               psychology, negotiating, what-have-
               you. Seventeen minutes is the time I
               have left before you enter Lunar
               orbit, and I must send the missiles
               to destroy you.
                              
                            TRENT
               Psychology?
                              
                            VANCE
               Psychology. I have been studying
               you, and I've made myself a wager.
               As I see it, you have two
               alternatives, and I think I know
               which one you'll choose.
                              
                            TRENT
               That's one more alternative than I
               can think of.
                              
                            VANCE
               First, you can take Webster to the
               airlock, seal his suit, activate his
               beacon, and push him away, so he'll
               have a chance of surviving when we
               destroy the ship.
                              
                            TRENT
               And the other alternative?
                              
                            VANCE
               Drag him to your death with you.
                              
                            TRENT
               This is a subtle way of letting me
               know he's of no use as a hostage, is
               it?...How are you betting?
                              
                            VANCE
               I think that you'll let him live.
               Your behavior throughout this event
               has been most interesting.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (Vance has him cold)
               How do you turn on the beacon?
                              
                            VANCE
               It's a small, bright red button, on
               both the inner and outer surfaces of
               the helmet's collar. Press it once
               and then don't press it again.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (does so)
               Thanks. I'll be right back.

INT. AIRLOCK--TWO SHOT TRENT AND WEBSTER

Trent hooks up a spare air bottle for Webster. Webster is
awake, shouting at Trent; helmet closed, we BARELY HEAR
HIM. Trent seals his own helmet, closes the inner airlock
door and starts evacuation. A red holograph blinks:
DEPRESSURIZING. Their p-suits inflate slightly due to the
pressure differential. Trent chins his helmet radio bar--
                              
                    WEBSTER (radio voice)
               <Goddam you son of a bitch>--
                              
                            TRENT
               <Shut up>!

Surprisingly, Webster does. The airlock status holo blinks:
DEATH PRESSURE VACUUM. The outer airlock door cycles open.
                              
                            TRENT
               Look, I'm pushing you out and the
               Peaceforcers are going to come get
               you after they blow me up. Okay? I'm
               throwing you away so you'll be safe.
                              
                    WEBSTER (radio voice)
                  (eyes wide)
               You're throwing me away?
                              
                            TRENT
               So you'll be safe. Look on it as an
               Experience, like something Winnie
               the Pooh might get involved in;
               Floating in Space while Awaiting
               Rescue. Like that.
                              
                    WEBSTER (radio voice)
               Winnie the what?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (stares)
               Oh, my.

Trent kicks Webster; he tumbles out into space. Trent
touches a control; the lock holo blinks, REPRESSURIZING.
                              
                            TRENT
               I hope you make it, you poor,
               desperate fool....Winnie the what
               indeed.

INT. ROLLS--PILOT'S CABIN

--as Trent straps himself back in. The rear-camera holo
floats over the control panel, showing L-5, and, far to the
rear, the chase ship carrying Vance.
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               What can you handle, Boss?
                              
                            TRENT
               Try three gees.

The acceleration presses Trent back into his seat. VANCE'S
IMAGE REAPPEARS in the comm holo. Trent speaks with some
difficulty through the next exchange:
                              
                            VANCE
               Thank you for releasing your
               hostage.
                              
                            TRENT
               Maybe I tossed an empty pressure
               suit out the airlock.
                              
                            VANCE
               We've made radio contact with him.
                              
                            TRENT
               Oh.
                              
                            VANCE
               Good try, though.
                              
                            TRENT
               Damn. Look, I have one more thing
               I'm going to try.
                              
                            VANCE
               Really.
                              
                            TRENT
               Okay. While everybody over at L-5
               was shook up from the explosion at
               North Bay, I tied up the weapons
               emplacement in monomolecular
               fineline. You can't aim the lasers;
               the instant a missile starts to
               move, you won't have a missile any
               more; just pieces of missile tangled
               up in fineline. Some of the pieces
               have fuel in them. <Boom>. A big
               one, I think.
                              
                            VANCE
               This is a better bluff.
                              
                            TRENT
               It's not a bluff.
                              
                            VANCE
               I have no time to get an officer in
               there to check it out.
                              
                            TRENT
               That's why I waited until now to
               tell you. But you have time to pull
               your people clear before firing.
                              
                            VANCE
               This is very likely simply another
               ploy to gain time.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (real alarm)
               Vance, I'm telling the truth.

On the rear cameras, displayed in the holo floating before
Trent's eyes, WE SEE the entire north end of L-5 unfold in
silent, brilliant light. After a pause--
                              
                            VANCE
               I see you were telling the truth.
                              
                            TRENT
               0h my god...evil. You are an evil
               son of a bitch, Vance.
                              
                            VANCE
               I am an officer of the PKF.
                              
                            TRENT
               That's what I said. <How could you
               do that>?
                              
                            VANCE
               I gave an order.
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               Boss?
                              
                            TRENT
               <What>?
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               I need you...A missile is chasing
               us.

COMPUTER SPACE

Trent's image appears in INTERFACE WINDOW: <Realtime>. A
moment later a second window appears, titled INTERFACE
WINDOW: <Realtime-2>. In the Realtime-2 window, the missile
chasing them shows as a faint violet spark against black
interplanetary space.
                              
                      TRENT (infovoice)
               How is this possible?
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               Melting temperature.
                  (graphic appears,
                  illustrating)
               He fired an entire cluster of
               missiles; all were destroyed. But
               the heat melted the fineline around
               the other missiles. Shock waves took
               out several of the missiles; flak
               killed the rest. One got through.
                              
                      TRENT (infovoice)
               Vance thought this through in twenty
               seconds of Realtime.
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               Smart man.
                              
                      TRENT (infovoice)
               Laser first.
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               Agreed.

A map appears, showing Luna; the Rolls; Colonel Webster far
off to one side; the missile chasing the Rolls; L-5, still
in flames; and Vance's chase ship, approaching L-5.

EXT. SPACE--LOOKING DIRECTLY INTO YACHT'S LASER--REALTIME

The lens of the laser abruptly blazes red. (There is <no>
beam effect; without an atmosphere to create an ionization
trail, lasers are visible only when one hits you in the
eye. And then only for a moment.)

COMPUTER SPACE

In the map, a red beam reaches forward, wavering and
shifting as it tries to keep focus on the missile; the
missile varies boost irregularly, trying to evade the
laser.
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               Antimatter?
                              
                      TRENT (infovoice)
               Backup for the laser.
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               If the missile hits the antimatter,
               there'll be a hell of an explosion.
                              
                      TRENT (infovoice)
               I don't see a choice. The laser
               might not get it.
                              
                     JOHNNY (infovoice)
               Antimatter it is.

EXT. SPACE--ON YACHT ENGINES--REALTIME

They FLARE BRIGHT BLUE. Something like a smoke ring is
emitted, falling backward from the Rolls, toward the
oncoming missile, thinning as it goes.

INT. YACHT--PILOT'S CABIN--ON TRENT

Trent reaches for his helmet, pulls it on and seals it.
                              
                   JOHNNY (from handheld)
               We're going to hit eight gees
               getting out of here, Boss. Sorry
               about your ribs.
                              
                            TRENT
               Just do it.

EXT. YACHT--OUTER SPACE

The glow of the engines GETS BRIGHTER AND BRIGHTER--

INT. YACHT--ON TRENT

Struggling for breath, fighting; sweat pours down his face.

EXT. SPACE--MISSILE IN FG, YACHT IN BG

The missile approaches the cloud of antimatter; the
antimatter GLOWS BLUE from interaction with the solar wind.

EXT. YACHT--OUTER SPACE

At full acceleration now, engines brighter than last shot.

INT. YACHT--ON TRENT--HEAVY ACCELERATION

Breathing in little whistling screams. We HOLD THIS SHOT
for a long moment.

EXT. SPACE--WIDE SHOT

--including the yacht, antimatter cloud, and the missile.
The missile touches the cloud--

EXT. SPACE--EXTREME WIDE SHOT

--including L-5 and Luna at opposite ends of the frame. In
the center of the flame, a small sun blooms. We HOLD THIS
SHOT, WATCHING THE EXPLOSION grow--

EXT. SPACE--ON THE YACHT

The yacht zooms TOWARD THE CAMERA, racing with the
expanding fiery wavefront of the missile's explosion; zooms
PAST THE CAMERA, and then THE FRAME IS FILLED with yellow
fire--
                                        
                                        DISSOLVE TO:

INT. YACHT--ON TRENT--ENGINES DEAD

COMPLETE, TOTAL SILENCE. Trent is motionless, pale and
waxen.

FLASHBACK--COMPLEX GARDEN--EXT. NIGHT--SPRING 2062

Carl and Trent face one another beneath a tree. Trent, age
11 again, is barefoot, in old jeans and t-shirt; Carl is
almost alien by comparison, dressed formally in a black
suit.
                              
                            TRENT
               Gene tests came back today.
                              
                            CARL
               I'm so sorry. I don't know what to
               say.
                              
                            TRENT
               Me too...Me neither. This has been
               such a bad day. I always thought I
               was one of us--of you.
                  (to himself)
               Jesus, my <eyes> should have told
               me.
                              
                            CARL
               How can I help?
                              
                            TRENT
               I've been thinking about that.
                  (shivers)
               I have to leave. I have to leave
               here. Doctor Montignet will take me.
                              
                            CARL
               Leave? The Complex? <Why>?
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm not a telepath and <I can't live
               with you>.
                              
                            CARL
               Trent, why?
                              
                            TRENT
               I think a day will come when you,
               telepaths, will be normal, and the
               rest of us will be out in the cold
               because we can't compete. For most
               people it's going to be a while
               before that happens...But if I stay
               here that happens to me now.
                  (meets Carl's eyes)
               I've Played in Capitol City's
               InfoNet. They don't touch me, you
               know. When I get an inskin, I don't
               think there's anybody on Earth who
               can touch me. If I stay here I'm
               nothing. I love you all but I do not
               choose to be nothing.
                              
                            CARL
               Trent--
                              
                            TRENT
               I don't <belong> here. Let me go.

ANGLE ON CARL

Wind swirls around him, and he speaks with the hollow echo
of prophecy.
                              
                            CARL
               I think you are right. You do not
               belong here. I think you will never
               belong anywhere.

INT. THE YACHT--2069--TIGHT ON TRENT IN P-SUIT--FREE FALL
                              
                            TRENT
                  (stirs, looking around)
               Johnny?
                              
                   JOHNNY (on suit radio)
               Hi, Boss.
                              
                            TRENT
               We're alive again.
                              
                   JOHNNY (on suit radio)
               No, still. But we've got problems.
                              
                            TRENT
               I can see, Johnny.
                              
                   JOHNNY (on suit radio)
               We've lost structural integrity,
               Boss.
                              
                            TRENT
               I can see, Johnny.

EXT. ROLLS

The Rolls is crossing over Lunar Farside on a high
trajectory, moving fast. It's in <bad> shape, hull torn
half apart; bizarrely, a section of the detached hull
floats forty meters from the yacht, on the same trajectory,
tumbling slowly. Parts of the yacht are melted.

INT. ROLLS--(SO TO SPEAK)
                              
                            TRENT
               What still works?
                              
                   JOHNNY (on suit radio)
               Airplant, engines, comm laser, and
               the autopilot all still function.
               Given the lack of a hull, the
               airplant is sort of a mixed
               blessing, actually.
                              
                            TRENT
               Johnny, don't joke when things are
               this bad.
                              
                   JOHNNY (on suit radio)
               You do.
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm allowed. Can we land this bitch?
                              
                   JOHNNY (on suit radio)
               Checking...given our relative
               velocity to the Lunar surface, and
               the absence of the #3 landing strut,
               a soft touchdown attempt is
               inadvisable.
                              
                            TRENT
               No landing strut?
                              
                   JOHNNY (on suit radio)
               #1 landing strut is weakened; #2 is
               tentatively rated in good condition;
               #3 is gone. Boss?
                              
                            TRENT
               Yeah, Johnny?
                              
                   JOHNNY (on suit radio)
               Are we going to die, Boss?
                              
                            TRENT
               Probably, Johnny.
                              
                   JOHNNY (on suit radio)
               Oh....Boss, I've enjoyed working for
               you.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (obviously moved; quietly)
               Thanks, Johnny. Take us down.
                              
                   JOHNNY (on suit radio)
               I'll do my best, Boss.
                              
                            TRENT
               I know.
                              
                   JOHNNY (on suit radio)
               Four gees...<now>.

EXT. SPACE--ON THE ROLLS, APPROACHING LUNA

It loses height rapidly, rockets firing parallel to the
surface. It sweeps over nearside, losing altitude and
speed, engines blazing, dropping ever lower--

INT. YACHT

In the front holo, a mountain range looms--
                              
                     JOHNNY (suit radio)
               My map says this is the Caucasus
               mountain range, Boss. Checking
               radar...and we're not going to make
               it over the peaks. Sorry about this,
               Boss. I'll try not to kill you.

A ROAR OF ROCKETS--

EXT. SPACE--THE YACHT--DECELERATING AT EIGHT GEES

The engines GLARE WHITE. The yacht slows, slows--and
crashes. It bounces off the side of a peak and then smashes
down onto a wide, flat ledge, high on the mountain. The
rockets die as they crash; the yacht rolls to a stop,
upside down at the ledge's edge.

INT. THE YACHT--1/6TH GRAVITY--ON TRENT

(NOTE: In the Lunar sequence, all scenes are shot in 1/6th
gee. Further, the Lunar "day" is two weeks long; even in
scenes marked "Night," the Sun is shining on the Lunar
surface.)

Trent hangs upside down, strapped into his seat,
unconscious again for the zillionth time in recent history.
Cracked ribs, broken hand, radiation damage--he's one sick
puppy. After a while his eyes flutter open again. WE HEAR
Johnny's voice as Trent does--a distant yammering wordless
annoying noise. Like a drunk, one-handed, Trent manages to
undo the straps holding him in place. In gentle slow motion
he falls to the yacht's ceiling. He stands slowly, reaches
up and carefully pulls his handheld from where it is jacked
in on the floor above him.
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm still alive again.

He steps into the passageway that leads to the airlock--the
yacht shifts beneath him. He stops, apparently thinking it
over, and then takes another step forward--

EXT. THE YACHT--IN SUNLIGHT--HIGH ON THE MOUNTAIN

--at first, anyway. It slides, off the ledge, down to the
surface. An out-jutting spar, a hundred meters down, breaks
it into halves, and the two pieces continue their tumble, a
quarter kilometer down the mountainside.

CU TRENT--EXT. LUNAR DESERT--IN SUNLIGHT

He staggers along in his p-suit. WE PULL BACK to see that
he is in the foothills of the great Caucasus mountain
chain. He falls, again and again. Each time he gets back up
and walks on.

TRENT'S POV--THE WORLD AROUND HIM

A strange place, gray and white; the shadows are sharply
defined and utterly black. The sky is black, and both the
stars and sun are in it at the same time.

EXT. LUNAR SURFACE--DAY--ON TRENT

Finally he falls, and does not rise again.

INT. EIGHT-SIDED TEMPLE OF ERIS--DAY

Rows of pews expand outward in rings from a central circle.
A RAINBOW FALLS from stained glass windows, high on the
eight inner walls, showing scenes from the life of the
Prophet Harry. Near the center of the circle, where the
Reverend would preach, Trent lies on a soft pallet, wearing
a pair of shorts. His knee has been splinted, his hand
bandaged, his ribs taped. CALLIA SIERRAN, 24, kneels
opposite Trent, praying. Weapons surround her; an autoshot
lays on the Temple floor to her left, a sheathed knife to
her right, and a maser before her. Her eyes are closed, her
head bowed. Her hair is short, a soft blonde brush cut. She
is barefoot, wearing a t-shirt and the bottom half of a
blue gi, loosely tied at her waist with a black belt. She
takes long, slow breaths. She and Trent open their eyes at
the same moment.
                              
                            TRENT
               You are the second loveliest woman
               I've ever seen.
                              
                           CALLIA
               You'll live.

Callia rises, seats herself on a pew and pulls a pair of
running shoes from a satchel near her. She speaks to Trent
as she puts her shoes on.
                              
                           CALLIA
               How do you feel?
                              
                            TRENT
               You don't <look> like a Peaceforcer.
                              
                           CALLIA
                  (pause)
               I'd hope not. I'm Callia Sierran;
               and you're Trent the Uncatchable.
                              
                            TRENT
               Who?
                              
                           CALLIA
               It's what the newsdancers have been
               calling you. Trent the Uncatchable.
                              
                            TRENT
               You're kidding.
                              
                           CALLIA
               I'm not.
                              
                            TRENT
               I think I like it.

Callia shrugs to say, <but of course>. Trent sits up,
wincing with the movement.
                              
                            TRENT
               What day is it? What time?
                              
                           CALLIA
               Wednesday. About 10:30 P.M.
                              
                            TRENT
               Where am I?
                              
                           CALLIA
               Luna.
                              
                            TRENT
               That's not funny.
                              
                           CALLIA
               Western foot of the Caucasus
               mountain chain. In Jackson Town.
               They're sympathetic to Free Luna
               here--but this is Unification
               territory.
                              
                            TRENT
               How far am I from Free Luna?
                              
                           CALLIA
               A good bit. The nearest enclave is
               in Serenitatis Crater. Damn near 750
               kilometers southeast, over the
               Caucasus mountains. Two days by
               rolligon.
                              
                            TRENT
               How long ago did I crash?
                              
                           CALLIA
               Eight hours. They say any landing
               you walk away from is a good one--
                  (shakes head)
               Stupid saying. I <saw> your landing.
               We found you lying in the sun an
               hour or so after the crash, picked
               you up, headed here.
                              
                            TRENT
               You were looking for me.
                              
                           CALLIA
               We were hoping.
                              
                            TRENT
               Are you Johnny Rebs?
                              
                           CALLIA
               Erisian Claw.
                              
                            TRENT
               Same difference.
                              
                           CALLIA
               I won't argue the point. The ship
               you crashed--military?
                              
                            TRENT
                  (looking around for
                  something)
               Space Force. I stole it.
                              
                           CALLIA
               Yeah. Antimatter pulse beam, right?

Trent nods, still looking--
                              
                       CALLIA (CONT.)
               Containment went about half an hour
               after we picked you up. That whole
               section of the mountain is
               glowing.... You're a <very> lucky
               man.
                              
                            TRENT
               Where's my handheld?
                              
                           CALLIA
               Your what?
                              
                            TRENT
               My handheld. <Where is it>?
                              
                           CALLIA
               You didn't have one with you. Why?
                              
                            TRENT
               The only copy of my Image was in the
               handheld.
                              
                           CALLIA
               That's right, the Boards said you
               were a Player.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (very agitated now)
               I've <got to go get my handheld>.

Callia does not rise; she speaks very quietly:
                              
                           CALLIA
               I'm afraid that's not possible. You
               have to understand--the antimatter
               containment <went>. Anything you
               left at the crash site is <gone>.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (numbly; staring blankly)
               Oh, God. Oh, Johnny. I'm so sorry.
                              
                           CALLIA
               We are talking about an <<Image>--a
               <program> you wrote to be your front
               end to the InfoNet?
                              
                            TRENT
               He was my friend.

MEDIUM SHOT--TRENT AND CALLIA IN PROFILE--SILENCE

Trent leans forward, puts his face in his hands to hide his
grief. WE HOLD THE SHOT:

EXT. SURFACE--A PARKLIKE AREA BENEATH AN ATMOSPHERE DOME

Jackson Town's surface is given over to greenery ranging
from wilderness to sculptured lawns; buildings in Luna are
underground. The LIGHT IS NORMAL, though the dome shows an
odd-looking sky; black, with sun and stars. Trent, now in
pants and shirt, and Callia walk along a pathway, moving by
impossibly thin trees, shrubs and flowers that reach
Trent's chest. Trent moves slowly, limping. EXTRAS, Jackson
Town residents, glance at Trent as they pass Trent on the
path; they clearly have some idea he's something out of the
ordinary.
                              
                            TRENT
               Is this safe?
                              
                           CALLIA
               For now. There's no Peaceforcers
               stationed at Jackson Town; but
               they'll be here soon. Nobody will
               <tell> the PKF anything; but we
               can't hide or protect you when they
               come. And they <will> come.
                              
                            TRENT
               What happened to my knee? I wrecked
               it--Monday--but it was almost better-
               -
                  (pauses; faces Callia)
               Did I--<fall>--down the mountain?
                              
                           CALLIA
               The ship did. I don't know if you
               were in it.
                              
                            TRENT
               I remember...I....never mind.

INT. A BRIGHTLY LIT CONFERENCE ROOM

It could be a boardroom on present-day Earth, except for
the delicacy of the 1/6th gee furnishings; a window shows
the Lunar surface. Facing Trent across a table are Callia
Sierran, her brother LAN, and DOMINO TERRENCIA, an Italian
woman in her 40s. Lan is 17, thin and pretty, his long
brown hair drawn into a pony tail. On the wall behind them
is an old oil painting; a beautiful kitten sits on a black
and white tile floor, with a blond Barbie doll in its
teeth. Blood oozes from the doll, dripping to the tile.
It's signed <H. Devlin.>
                              
                            TRENT
               That's good. A little sick, but--
                              
                           CALLIA
                  (introducing)
               Trent: Domino Terrencia, and my
               brother Lan.
                              
                           DOMINO
               How did this happen?
                              
                            TRENT
               Want to sell that painting?
                              
                             LAN
               The Prophet Harry painted it. You
               couldn't afford it even--
                              
                           DOMINO
               <How did this happen>?
                              
                            TRENT
               They think I killed a Peaceforcer.
                              
                           DOMINO
               Other people have killed
               Peaceforcers. None of them triggered
               a Level Three Earth-Luna alert.
                              
                            TRENT
               He was a Peaceforcer Elite.
                              
                           DOMINO
               <What!?
                              
                            TRENT
               It was an accident. He fell.
                              
                             LAN
               An accident.
                              
                            TRENT
               He was trying to kill me and he
               fell. OK, jumped. Off a
               spacescraper...it was a really long
               way down.
                              
                           DOMINO
                  (to Callia)
               Do we know this?
                              
                           CALLIA
               Rumors. Nothing confirmed.
                              
                           DOMINO
               Nobody's ever killed an Elite
               before.
                  (shaking head)
               This is bad. It means they <won't>
               stop looking for you.
                              
                            TRENT
               Vance won't.
                              
                           DOMINO
               We can't keep you here; Peaceforcers
               are due at Jackson Town within 24
               hours if they stick to their current
               search pattern. We can't get you off
               planet; Space Force is boarding
               every ship at every port of call in
               Unification Luna. We can't even get
               you to Free Luna; they're searching
               all rolligons leaving this area. I'd
               hate to give <anyone> up to the PKF-
               -but I'm not sure I have a choice.
                              
                            TRENT
               I need an InfoNet systerm.

INT. LARGE COMPUTER ROOM--DARKNESS--WIDE ANGLE

Trent stands motionless in the center of the room. His
features are dark and brooding, cast in shadow. Domino
enters, joins Lan at the far end of the room. They whisper
to each other:
                              
                           DOMINO
               What's he doing?
                              
                             LAN
               Hell if I know. Been like that for
               <hours>.
                              
                           DOMINO
               Reports are he's a Player.
                              
                             LAN
               Big deal. You don't Play in the
               Lunar InfoNet. No way, no day.

CU--TRENT

As he turns on them abruptly, blazing with anger; for
Johnny, for himself, for what he's let the PKF do to him.
                              
                            TRENT
               What am I doing? <Saving my ass>.
               You claim to be <rebels>?

GROUP SHOT

Trent gestures--a holo FLARES INTO EXISTENCE around them.
They are STILL VISIBLE within it; the holo shows Jackson
Town; nearby are the Caucasus mountains; to the south is an
installation marked LUNAR DATAWATCH HEADQUARTERS. A mass
driver--a long, BIG magnetic railgun which fires payloads
into orbit--runs alongside it.
                              
                            TRENT
               Here's your opportunity to prove it.
               This is Lunar DataWatch Headquarters-
               -and it's not far from here.
                              
                             LAN
               We <know> that. So?
                              
                            TRENT
               They're looking for me to run away;
               so I'm going to run the other way,
               straight to them. But I need your
               help.
                              
                             LAN
               What's in it for us?
                              
                            TRENT
               Unlike Earth, Luna doesn't have
               Players. The Lunar DataWatch has
               created a security program, an AI
               named Watchdog, that makes it
               impossible for Players like me to
               work. Watchdog hinders your
               intelligence gathering, disrupts
               your espionage, prevents you from
               sending propaganda into Unification
               Luna.
                              
                           DOMINO
                  (slowly)
               It is a great drawback.
                              
                            TRENT
               We'll need to have copies of Earth's
               InfoNet protocols transmitted up to
               us. I had copies in my handheld, but-
               -never mind. The bottom line is
               this: if I get inside the Lunar
               DataWatch with the correct software
               and the correct hardware, I'll kill
               Watchdog, and I will take the Lunar
               InfoNet <down>.

EXT. LUNAR SURFACE--DAY--WIDE ANGLE

In FG two figures in camouflage p-suits lie on a rise
overlooking the PKF DataWatch HQ. In BG WE SEE HQ itself,
and the mass driver. The mass driver CYCLES AS WE WATCH,
the loaded capsule accelerating down the long row of maglev
rings and being boosted into orbit.

CLOSE TWO SHOT--TRENT AND CALLIA

We can see their faces through their helmets. Trent's skin
and eyes are <brown>; his hair is jet black; and he looks
Mexican.
                              
                     TRENT (radio voice)
               According to the Orbital Eye I
               tapped, their overland traffic comes
               in via that route.

INSERT--ANGLE ON A RAVINE LEADING TOWARD THE INSTALLATION

RETURN TO SCENE
                              
                    CALLIA (radio voice)
               How many PKF are going to be on this
               transport?
                              
                     TRENT (radio voice)
               Eight, nine...can I ask you a
               question?
                              
                    CALLIA (radio voice)
               My life is an open Board.
                              
                     TRENT (radio voice)
               You're Claw. You've promised your
               life to overthrow the Unification.
                              
                    CALLIA (radio voice)
               Is that a problem?
                              
                     TRENT (radio voice)
               I've never known anyone in the Claw,
               but one of my closest friends is a
               Reverend of a Temple in New York--
               are you Erisian first or Claw first?
                              
                    CALLIA (radio voice)
               That's a meaningless question.
                              
                     TRENT (radio voice)
               The Temples teach life is sacred.
                              
                    CALLIA (radio voice)
               The Claw believes the same, Trent.
               Our lives as much so as those of our
               enemies. When our lives are
               threatened--<and they are>--we are
               entitled to defend them.
                              
                     TRENT (radio voice)
               I need a promise from you.
                              
                    CALLIA (radio voice)
               Done.
                              
                     TRENT (radio voice)
               You don't want to know what it is?
                              
                    CALLIA (radio voice)
               I would like to, yes.

Trent grins despite himself.
                              
                     TRENT (radio voice)
               All right. You can't kill anyone on
               this job. Not even Peaceforcers.
                              
                    CALLIA (radio voice)
               ...Okay--Lan will want to know <why>
               we are not to kill Peaceforcers.
                              
                     TRENT (radio voice)
               But it doesn't matter to you?
                              
                    CALLIA (radio voice)
               It matters to me. But not as much as
               doing what Domino has told me to do.
                              
                     TRENT (radio voice)
               Which is?
                              
                    CALLIA (radio voice)
               Domino told me to do whatever <you>
               told me to do.

INT. COMPUTER ROOM--JACKSON TOWN

Trent and Callia pass through. Lan sits at one of the
systerms, at work. He doesn't look up.
                              
                             LAN
               Peaceforcers tore this entire dome
               apart while you were out on the
               surface. They're going to be back in
               the morning to do it again.
                  (looks up again)
               You need to get out of here <now>.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (as he leaves)
               I'll go tonight.

INT. A SMALL BEDROOM--NIGHT--ANGLE ON TRENT

He sits in lotus, meditating. Domino enters.
                              
                           DOMINO
               Passage has been arranged with the
               SpaceFarer ship <Jack of Shadows>;
               pickup is 9 A.M. tomorrow.

Trent nods; she leaves. Eyes still closed, Trent speaks
aloud:
                              
                            TRENT
               <Command>, record and print.
                              
                       COMPUTER VOICE
               Recording.
                              
                            TRENT
               Denice...by the time you receive
               this, you'll know if what I'm about
               to attempt has succeeded. The letter
               will take a while to reach you; it's
               going to be delivered Federal
               Express, as I am not sure that any
               of my mailboards are still secure
               from DataWatch. If I'm alive in a
               week, I'll be at Mars; and you can
               join me there. I would like that.
                              
                       COMPUTER VOICE
               Will that be all?
                              
                            TRENT
               I stopped praying a long time ago.
               Please ask Reverend Andy to say a
               prayer for the soul of the Image
               Johnny. He died on August 14, 2069.
                  (pause)
               I love you...<Command>, send it.

EXT. LUNAR SURFACE--ABOVE RAVINE--DAY--ON TRENT

Wearing a PKF p-suit that looks like hell; parts of it are
<melted> as though by heat damage. He sits at the edge of
the ravine, in the shade of a boulder. A device about the
size and shape of a football sits at his feet, labeled
FADEAWAY--1 LITER.

IN THE RAVINE--DAY--ON THE ROLLIGON

The Peaceforcer rolligon rolls by beneath Trent--

ON TRENT--LEAPING ONTO TOP OF ROLLIGON

--and slamming the football-shaped fadeaway bomb down atop
it.

CU--ON FADEAWAY BOMB

With a red flash, it fuses itself to the roof--

INT. ROLLIGON--DAY--WIDE VIEW

Eight men in PKF p-suits, helmets off; abruptly a spike
shoves down through the roof, spraying fadeaway everywhere.

EXT. ROLLIGON--DAY--WIDE SHOT

Trent clings to the surface of the rolligon, as the vehicle
rolls forward, not slowing at all, not veering, not even
when the road does. Trent leaps to the surface while the
rolligon tries to drive through the side of a hill.

INT. A DIFFERENT, CAMOUFLAGED ROLLIGON--DAY

Trent, Callia and Lan are in their p-suits. Peaceforcers,
stripped nude, snore on the deck, <their> p-suits stacked
by the airlock. One of them is a Mexican, Benny Gutierrez;
Trent looks at Gutierrez, feels his own altered face. The
match is striking. Lan looks at the unconscious men,
clearly thinking--
                              
                            TRENT
               You <will not> kill them.
                              
                           CALLIA
               They'll be released as we agreed.
                              
                            TRENT
               Killing is wrong.
                              
                             LAN
               I've heard you say that. A lot. But
               if we don't kill them now, we just
               have to kill them later.
                              
                           CALLIA
               There's no <time> for this! In ten
               minutes they're going to realize
               this rolligon hasn't called in.

INT. THE PKF ROLLIGON--DAY

The uniforms are propped up in sitting positions; Callia
and Trent go down the row, stuffing them with sides of beef
and pork.
                              
                           CALLIA
               They'll have this mess genetically
               analyzed first thing tomorrow
               morning. By noon you <better> be out
               of there.
                              
                            TRENT
               My pickup is 9 A.M.

EXT. LUNAR SURFACE--DAY--FAVORING LAN

Trent watches as Lan places a charge on the PKF rolligon's
rear axle. Lan touches a stud on the charge and then
bounces back. He's timed it closely; the charge goes
SOUNDLESSLY in the vacuum, a SHARP SEARING FLASH. The rear
axle snaps in half. Lan leads Trent back to a spot about
thirty meters behind the rolligon; they touch helmets and
speak via induction.
                              
                             LAN
               You're supposed to be outside to
               find out what's wrong. We blow it
               away from the front; it'll look like
               the shock wave threw you here.
                              
                            TRENT
               Am I going to catch shrapnel?
                              
                             LAN
               No...Trent, Callia said to tell you
               she'd pray for you.
                              
                            TRENT
               Tell her I said thank you. For
               everything. Lan?
                              
                             LAN
                  (nervous impatience)
               Yeah?
                              
                            TRENT
               There's better ways to do things
               than killing people who never harmed
               you.
                              
                             LAN
                  (stares at Trent)
               You're the craziest thing I ever
               saw.
                              
                            TRENT
               You mean you never saw one of those
               guys who ties balloons into the
               shapes of animals?

Lan bounces to the front of the rolligon, where a rocket
launcher awaits. Lan aims--

ON TRENT--WAITING

WIDE ANGLE--LAN, ROLLIGON, TRENT

Lan pulls the trigger. The rolligon explodes and the <FRAME
FLARES WHITE.>

EXT. A ROLLIGON--PKF INSIGNIA--DAY

Bouncing along the Lunar surface at high speed.

INT. PKF ROLLIGON--DAY

Trent lies unconscious. A PKF officer looms over him--
                              
                     OFFICER (in French)
               How do you feel?
                              
                            TRENT
               Huh?
                              
                   OFFICER (slow English)
               How are you feeling?
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm not--I--
                              
                           OFFICER
               Officer Gutierrez! <What happened>?

Trent slumps back on the bench.

EXT. DATAWATCH LUNAR HEADQUARTERS--SUNLIGHT--ESTABLISHING

The rolligon enters a garage; airlock doors close behind
it.

INT. A SMALL INFIRMARY--TWO SHOT

Four beds; unrecognizable, futuristic hospital equipment.
Only one door. Trent stares up into the small penlight
DOCTOR GRISSOM shines into his left eye. Grissom is an old
German who doesn't really belong in a PKF facility. Trent
sits at the side of a bed in his underwear.
                              
                           GRISSOM
               They took your statement, hah?
                              
                            TRENT
               First thing.
                              
                           GRISSOM
               You should have died, it would teach
               them some patience. No, never mind,
               nothing will teach them patience.
                  (scanning chart)
               Ribs and knee will take time, but
               they're OK. The hand puzzles me.
                              
                            TRENT
               How so?
                              
                           GRISSOM
               You're dark-skinned, maybe that's
               it. But the bruises look old, and
               the break does not seem recent.
                              
                            TRENT
               Look, don't report this--I hit a man
               the other day.
                              
                           GRISSOM
               Of course you did. <Peace> Keeping
               Force, is your job.
                              
                            TRENT
               See, I was off-duty--
                              
                           GRISSOM
               You'll go far. Get some sleep.

Grissom exits; THE LIGHTS FADE. In the dimness, Trent
crawls under the cover.

ANGLE ON BEDSIDE--BOOTS AND A BRAND-NEW HANDHELD

INT. INFIRMARY--NIGHT--0N TRENT IN BED, AWAKE

A wall clock reads 12:16 A.M. The door opens, lights come
up. Trent sits up as Melissa du Bois enters.
                              
                       MELISSA DU BOIS
                  (unsmiling)
               Hello.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (numbly)
               ...hi there.
                              
                           MELISSA
               Did I wake you?
                              
                            TRENT
               No. No, you didn't.
                              
                           MELISSA
               You are Officer Gutierrez, yes?
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes. Certainly of course.

Melissa pulls the only chair up next to the bed, turns on
her handheld and runs the traceset trode to her temple.
                              
                           MELISSA
               I'll try not to take too long.
                              
                            TRENT
               I wasn't sleeping.
                              
                           MELISSA
               I thought that might be the case,
               after what happened today....I'm an
               assistant to Commissionaire Vance;
               we're checking to see if the
               fugitive Trent had anything to do
               with this attack. So--you went
               outside to check on the broken axle;
               a big flash of light; that's all you
               remember.
                              
                            TRENT
               Afraid so.
                              
                           MELISSA
               That's useful.
                              
                            TRENT
               Melissa--
                  (she raises an eyebrow)
               --they're not telling me much. About
               what happened, I think they're
               disgusted I don't know more.

Melissa nods; she can understand that.
                              
                            TRENT
               Do you--really think Trent had
               something to do with it?
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (cop voice)
               Does it matter?
                              
                            TRENT
               Men I served with <died> out there.
               I have a right to know.
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (slowly; good point)
               No. I doubt it. It is not the style
               of thing he would be involved in.
               Not with deaths like this.
                              
                            TRENT
               What else do we know?
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (quick sideways look)
               Come with me.

INT. CORRIDOR--DOUBLE DOORS, LEGEND: "BRIEFING ROOM"--NIGHT

The doors curl open, and they walk through; Trent barefoot,
Melissa in fatigues.

INT. BRIEFING ROOM--NIGHT

Dark but for the holo projectors; silent except for the
sounds Trent and Melissa make. The holo lasers are buried
in the wall near the floor. WE LOOK DOWN on the surface of
Luna from a great height, on the ravine where the wrecked
rolligon lays. The scale is immense; the mass driver is an
almost invisibly thin line, twice as long as DataWatch HQ;
the Jackson Town dome, to the north, is about the size of a
thumbnail. The rolligon is a speck.
                              
                           MELISSA
               This is a semi-realtime image,
               updated every forty-five seconds.
               Here is where the attack on your
               rolligon took place.

The holo flickers; abruptly WE FALL, plunging down toward
the surface. The view stabilizes, showing a badly damaged
rolligon.
                              
                       MELISSA (CONT.)
               There were no Orbital Eyes watching
               this area when the attack took
               place. As soon as DataWatch realized
               you hadn't checked in, every Eye was
               turned to tracking your rolligon;
               they found it quickly.
               Unfortunately, by then the
               terrorists were gone. There was
               another rolligon, probably
               camouflaged, <here>. There are
               officers tracking that vehicle, but
               it is a slow process. <Command>,
               lights.

White glowpaint comes up around them.
                              
                       MELISSA (CONT.)
               There is not much left to tell. The
               terrorists probably came from
               Jackson Town. It is the logical
               place from which to stage an
               operation, especially if the Erisian
               Claw was responsible for it; I am
               told the Temple of Eris is popular
               in Jackson Town.
                  (pause; to herself)
               It wasn't Trent.
                              
                            TRENT
               Are you close to catching him?
                              
                           MELISSA
               Between us, no, or I would not be
               wasting my time checking out random
               ideolog attacks like this one. We
               haven't found his body--
                  (she yawns, stretching)
               If he's alive, I think he must have
               left the area; possibly he even got
               offplanet somehow.
                  (weary smile)
               Who can say? I would give a great
               deal to know what Trent is thinking.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (telling her)
               You're very nice.
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (softly)
               Don't do this, Officer.
                              
                            TRENT
               How long are you going to be here?
                              
                           MELISSA
               This base? Until tomorrow. Why?
                              
                            TRENT
               Just curious. No real reason.

Trent does not blink, keeps his eyes fixed on hers. Melissa
looks at him curiously--
                              
                        TRENT (CONT.)
               Thank you. For everything.

The puzzled look leaves her slowly; her eyes widen. Trent
holds her eyes with his own, holding the connection.
Melissa shakes herself with a real effort--
                              
                        TRENT (CONT.)
               Remember I said that. I mean it.

The wall clock says <1:52 A.M.>

INT. A SMALL OFFICE--LUNAR DATAWATCH HQ--NIGHT

Melissa is talking to a holo of Mohammed Vance.
                              
                           MELISSA
               ...perhaps tomorrow evening, sir.
               Once the rolligon they're tracking
               is found, or lost altogether.
                  (tired chuckle)
               Officer Gutierrez would like to see
               me stay longer.
                              
                            VANCE
               Oh?
                              
                           MELISSA
               A common response to death, sir. My
               first patrol partner on Earth fell
               in love with me for a week or so
               every time there was a close call.
                              
                            VANCE
               I see.
                              
                           MELISSA
               I think I'm the first person who's
               been kind to him since the attack.
                              
                            VANCE
               I see.
                  (awkward silence; he studies
                  her)
               You like him?
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (wishing she'd stayed silent)
               Yes. He's quite nice.
                              
                            VANCE
               You went to North Bay to meet Trent.
               You were the only one. And he <was
               there>.
                              
                           MELISSA
               I don't understand.
                              
                            VANCE
               Tell me about Office Gutierrez.

The desktop clock reads <2:23 A.M.>

INT. INFIRMARY--ON TRENT--NIGHT

A bundle beneath the sheets.

UNDER THE SHEETS--LIT BY A BLANK HANDHELD HOLOFIELD

Trent is taking his boots and handheld apart. An emblade
comes out of the lining of a boot; from the heel of the
other comes a tiny needler. The handheld comes apart more
simply; a tiny spool of fineline, and a tiny spraytube.
Trent assembles his toys under the bedsheet. The handheld's
clock readout says <4:55 A.M.>

EXT. RAVINE--THE ATTACK SITE--TRACKING SHOT ON VANCE

A ship settles down 200 meters north of the site. Vance
debarks in a scalesuit and walks south. The rolligon's
shell has not been moved; Vance walks around it. The first
PKF on the scene sprayed a plastic cover over the tracks
left by Trent, Lan and Callia; Vance examines them, then
moves over to the rolligon. The rolligon is on its side,
virtually disintegrated; the frame is blackened, warped and
melted.
                              
                            VANCE
               So much damage.

Vance walks to the back of the rolligon. Scarlet markers
show where the rolligon was when the explosion took place.
Vance squats at the rear--
                              
                            VANCE
               Here with the broken axle--

Vance stands, takes two bouncing strides to the marker
where Gutierrez was found. About twenty-five meters.
                              
                            VANCE
               He broke his ribs and damaged a
               knee. Trent jumped from a building;
               du Bois kicked him.

Vance nods, rises, and heads to his spacecraft.

INSERT--VANCE'S POV--CYBORG EYESIGHT

The clock in the lower right corner of Vance's vision reads
<6:12 A.M.>

INT. INFIRMARY--WIDE ANGLE--NIGHT

The door opens, and Mohammed Vance enters. Trent sits up in
bed slowly.

TRENT'S POV--WE SEE THE TOYS, UNDER THE SHEET

TWO SHOT--VANCE AND TRENT

Vance seats himself at the side of Trent's bed.
                              
                            VANCE
                  (smiles)
               Officer Gutierrez.
                              
                            TRENT
               Sir?
                              
                            VANCE
               Do you know who I am?
                              
                            TRENT
               ...you're Commissioner Vance.
                              
                            VANCE
               Indeed I am. Forgive me for
               awakening you, but I've urgent
               questions. I'm told you were not
               badly injured in the attack on your
               rolligon?
                              
                            TRENT
               No, sir.
                              
                            VANCE
               Good. I suppose you're looking
               forward to assuming your duties
               here?
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes, sir.
                              
                            VANCE
               Those are?
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm a computerist, sir. I'll be
               debugging the Network Key updates.
                              
                            VANCE
               You're going to be debugging
               WatchDog?
                              
                            TRENT
               What?
                              
                            VANCE
               Watchdog, Officer. It's the name of
               the control program...You didn't
               know that?
                              
                            TRENT
               I don't think it was in my briefing
               file, sir.
                              
                            VANCE
               I'm surprised. I'd have thought any
               Player worthy of the name would know
               of WatchDog.
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm not a Player. Playing's illegal,
               you know.
                              
                            VANCE
               So are genies. Yet they
               persist...they do persist. We
               <thought> we'd destroyed them; we
               certainly tried.
                              
                            TRENT
               That's something to be proud of.
                              
                            VANCE
               Did you know, Officer, that in the
               last hours before the destruction of
               the Chandler Complex, I attempted to
               help the telepaths? To evacuate them
               to safety? They <refused my aid>.
               They could read my mind, they knew
               the offer a sincere one. I've often
               wondered why it was refused.
                              
                            TRENT
               I guess they were crazy.
                              
                            VANCE
               Perhaps. Or simply proud. Pride can
               make a man, or a genie, do many
               foolish things.

Vance rises; he stops as Trent says very quickly:
                              
                            TRENT
               Sir--I heard that you <gave the
               order>--but then I read later that
               there was some question, that nobody
               knew who'd ordered the tacnuke
               dropped.
                              
                            VANCE
               What is your question, Officer?
                              
                            TRENT
               <Was it you>?
                              
                            VANCE
               Yes. It was. You should sleep,
               Officer. You're going to need it.
                              
                            TRENT
               Thank you, sir. I will.

Vance nods--and backs out of the room. The wall clock says
8:05 A.M.

INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE INFIRMARY--MORNING--THREE SHOT

Vance and a pair of guards.
                              
                            VANCE
               <Command>, bolt door. This is
               Commissionaire Vance of the PKF
               Elite. Verify and implement.

The door bolts snap shut.

INT. INFIRMARY--MORNING--ON TRENT

Trent throws back the bed covers, dresses while chattering:
                              
                            TRENT
               Evil vicious lying murdering goddamn
               brass balls bastard and Gutierrez is
               worse, my God but he's a boring son
               of a bitch. I never liked being him,
               never never never for even a little
               while.

He tucks all the tools except the emblade and spraytube of
glue into the pockets of his uniform pants, pulls on the
dress shirt and boots, and crawls under the bed furthest
away from the infirmary door.

INT. LIMBO--AN EMPTY BLACKNESS

The Name Storyteller, as before. A recording of a middle-
aged Melissa du Bois is frozen next to him. He gestures:
                              
                           MELISSA
               I knew Trent, I think, as well as
               anyone; yet in some ways I did not
               know him at all. He was a reticent
               man; and the question you have asked
               me, I cannot answer. Perhaps it is
               true, as some believe, that God
               chose to incarnate Himself in the
               person of Trent the Uncatchable.
               Perhaps not. He was, as the
               historians have written, a liar and
               a thief and a fraud. But there was,
               at the core of the man, something
               amazing; something very real. It
               happened as you have heard it...
                  (FACES CAMERA)
               I was there.

INT. INFIRMARY--MORNING--BENEATH BED

Lying on his stomach, Trent turns the emblade on and cuts a
circle in the floor. He <hits> the circle; it pops free,
drops into a lighted area. Trent lunges down, gets his
shoulders through the hole, grabbing for the chunk of floor-
-and catches it.

INT. CORRIDOR BELOW--MORNING--ON TRENT

Trent hangs, clutching the manhole-shaped piece of floor,
staring upside down at the backs of two PKF walking away
from him. He twists, looks the other direction; nothing. He
slides further through, drops the chunk of floor. It lands
quietly and Trent follows it, dropping onto his hands and
rolling to his feet in one smooth motion.

INT. CORRIDOR AT INFIRMARY--MORNING--TWO SHOT MELISSA &
VANCE
                              
                           MELISSA
               You think that's <Trent>?
                  (Vance does not reply)
               You're not serious. You can't be.
                  (still no reply)
               But it <can't> be--oh God. "Thank
               you...remember I said that." It <is>
               him.

INT. BEDROOM--MORNING--TRACKING SHOT ON YOUNG PEACEFORCER

A YOUNG PEACEFORCER in a robe lounges on a bed; the door
curls open. Trent pokes his head inside, spots a chair, and
grabs it.
                              
                            TRENT
               I need this; a hole fell out of the
               ceiling.

Trent exits. The Peaceforcer gets out of bed, follows
Trent. Trent stands on the chair, lifting the chunk of
floor up to the hallway ceiling. With the spraytube of glue
he blasts its edges; holds it in place and lets go. He
steps down; from his right-hand pants pocket he takes the
small needler and shoots the PKF watching him in the
stomach. The man folds; Trent catches him, palms open the
nearest door, and tosses the Peaceforcer inside, throwing
the chair in after. He moves off at a trot down the
corridor, grinning, adrenaline pumping.

EXT. THE INFIRMARY--MORNING--TRACKING SHOT ON VANCE

Six Elite, five men, a woman, assemble outside the
infirmary, carrying sonic rifles. Vance, Melissa, and COL.
BRISSOIS, the Base's Commanding Officer, watch: the door
curls open and the Elite go through, RIFLES BUZZING. The
BUZZING CEASES.
                              
                     FEMALE ELITE (V.O.)
               Commissionaire!

Vance moves forward into the infirmary. The bed in which
Trent was lying has been knocked across the infirmary.
Vance turns slowly, surveying the infirmary--there is
nowhere to hide.
                              
                        FEMALE ELITE
               There's no one here.
                              
                            VANCE
               That is not possible.

The laser in his fist lights. Vance drops to the floor and
looks beneath the beds, pushes himself one-handed back to
his feet and turns to Brissois.
                              
                            VANCE
               Call an alert. I want guards at
               every airlock. <Trent is free within
               your base>.

INT. CORRIDORS--MORNING--TRACKING TRENT

Trent bounces down a series of ramps so quickly that
several of the PKF he passes look at him curiously. He
reaches Level 5, where Watchdog's hardware is located, and
moves down a long, nearly empty passageway with an armed
guard at its end--
                              
                        PKF VOICE #3
               ALERT, ALERT!

PKF around Trent jump in surprise; one of them literally
comes up off the floor, clawing for footing. Trent does not
even slow, keeps walking toward the guard.
                              
                        PKF VOICE #3
               ALIEN IN THE INSTALLATION; ALL
               PERSONNEL RETREAT TO SECURED AREAS.
               LOCKDOWN <IN EFFECT>. PERSONNEL IN
               CORRIDORS WILL BE SHOT WITHOUT
               WARNING. REPEAT, LOCKDOWN <IN
               EFFECT>.

The guard, PKF #6, stands at attention next to the entrance
to Watchdog Control. An anaesthetic needler is holstered at
his waist, like the weapon Trent carries but with a far
larger magazine. He does not seem alarmed by Trent's
approach; as Trent nears he holds up an arm, palm outward.
                              
                           PKF #6
               Name, please?
                              
                            TRENT
               Have you ever seen anything like
               this before?

He holds up the tiny needler; the Peaceforcer looks, and
Trent shoots him in the chest.
                              
                        TRENT (CONT.)
               No?

Trent grabs the guard as he sags, presses his hand against
the doorpad: the door curls open. Three PKF in the corridor
are watching--
                              
                        TRENT (CONT.)
               Heart attack! He's had a heart
               attack!

Trent kneels, taking the guard's needler; he steadies
himself, aims; the PKF turn to run, and he fires, spraying
them with anaesthetic slivers. Two of them go down
instantly; the other hits the ramp at the end of the
corridor, moving up; a moment later the man slides back
down, tumbling head over heels in the low gravity. The door
behind Trent is starting to close; he turns and goes
through, into DataWatch Control.

INT. MELISSA'S OFFICE--MORNING--ON MELISSA

At a systerm, skimming images from security holocams.
Vance, Colonel Brissois, and CAPTAIN CLOTILDE, a man
wearing a PKF p-suit, watch. WE SEE PKF scrambling through
the base, but no images of Trent--the holofield freezes
motionless.

INSERT--LEVEL FIVE CORRIDOR--UNCONSCIOUS PKF

A long shot of the corridor, showing Trent's handiwork.

RETURN TO SCENE
                              
                          BRISSOIS
               Level Five. Watchdog.
                              
                            VANCE
               He's come to destroy Watchdog.
                              
                          BRISSOIS
               It can't be done.
                              
                           MELISSA
               He can. Or he would not have come.
                              
                            VANCE
               What, <exactly>, does Watchdog
               control in this installation?
                              
                          BRISSOIS
               Captain Clotilde?
                              
                          CLOTILDE
               Pretty much--everything.

Vance grabs Clotilde by his p-suit collar; the metal
crumples under his hand.
                              
                            VANCE
               You suited up. Watchdog controls the
               air? The lights?
                  (Clotilde nods, terrified)
               What of the mass driver?
                              
                          CLOTILDE
               That too.
                              
                            VANCE
               You incredible fools.

Vance tosses Clotilde aside like a doll, turns to Melissa:
                              
                            VANCE
               Lock down the mass driver's launch
               mechanism. Destroy it if you must.
               Get all spacecraft away <right now>.

Vance turns and through the crowd around them, grabs a
sonic rifle from an Elite in the corridor outside, and with
long, bounding strides, runs for the ramps.

INT. WATCHDOG CONTROL--MORNING--ON TRENT

Trent walks forward into a large, dimly lit oval area. Holo
displays line its walls. Six systerms, facing away from the
entrance, are smothered with auxiliary equipment; a
Player's wet dream. The holos are maps of Luna, charts
showing the positions of comsats and Orbital Eyes, near-
space maps showing spacecraft--rogue SpaceFarers,
Unification PKF and Space Force. In the center of the room,
so that the computerists work with their backs to it, is a
silver sphere a meter and a half across: the Watchdog
transputer, five billion silver multicomputers inside a
superconductor mesh, resting on blocks of jet black
superconductor RAM. Four of the systerms are occupied by
uniformed PKF; they are lost inside the Crystal Wind, and
do not see Trent. A woman, PKF #7, rises as Trent enters.
                              
                           PKF #7
               What's going on? Why the alarm?

She sees Trent's needler, draws in a breath to scream; the
breath comes out in a surprised WHOOSH as Trent shoots her.
In the low gee, she does a comically slow tumble to the
ground; a bad sensable extra, overacting with the cameras
on her.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (grinning)
               Fall down. Go <boom>.

He shoots the four motionless PKF in their necks, and then
stands still, eyes dropping shut--

IN THE INFONET--IN THE STORM

Trent steps through the gateway, into the Crystal Wind--
except that it's a storm like nothing we've seen up to this
point, a wild shimmering world of light and noise. He
MORPHS INTO HIMSELF, the blond, blue-eyed Trent from
earlier scenes. Trent calls up a Interface Window--but the
window warps and rolls, and we can barely make out the
Realtime DataWatch Control. From the surrounding Chaos
comes a man. He is three meters tall, with very broad
shoulders, wrapped in unreal layers of muscle. He speaks in
a bass profundo:
                              
                          WATCHDOG
               I am the Watchdog of the Lunar
               InfoNet. Are you a "Player?"
                              
                            TRENT
                  (turns to face him)
               Yes. And the best one, too. Say your
               prayers, sucker.

INT. LEVEL TWO RAMP--MORNING--TRACKING ON VANCE

Vance moves at high speed. The corridors are empty now, all
PKF at their lockdown posts. Vance runs for the ramp to
Level Three, gaining speed as he moves: a human juggernaut.

THE INFONET--THE CRYSTAL STORM

Trent <ghosts>. A thousand Trents appears, surrounding
Watchdog on every side. Watchdog begins slaying the false
Trents; the real Trent moves around the fight, heading
toward--

INSERT--THE INFONET--THE WATCHDOG TRANSPUTER

The same structure as in Realtime--a sphere mounted on
black blocks of superconductor RAM--but VASTLY LARGER.

RETURN TO SCENE--THE INFONET--ON TRENT

He walks through glowing emptiness, toward the Watchdog
transputer. A fierce wind pushes forth from the direction
of the transputer, and as Trent comes nearer he bends into
it, pushing against the wind, fighting for each step.

THE INFONET--WIDE SHOT

Watchdog has finished slaying Trent's ghosts; it looks
around, sees Trent approaching its hardware, and follows
him at a dead run. Trent is very close now, pushing forward
through the Crystal Wind; he reaches the huge structure,
throws himself against its black base--and melts into it.

INT. DATAWATCH CONTROL--MORNING--ON THE TRANSPUTER--REALTIME

SHEETS OF LIGHT run across the silver sphere. The holo
fields set around the room flicker--Trent's face appears
and reappears in them.

LUNAR INFONET

Watchdog strides up to the black base of the transputer,
and vanishes into it.

MONTAGE--DATAWATCH CONTROL ANALOG--FAVORING TRENT

He stands in an analog of the Realtime Watchdog Control. He
glances at holos; they respond this thoughts. WE SEE IMAGES
of DataWatch HQ; of Melissa in her office; of spacecraft
rising from the DataWatch HQ landpads; of the lunar
surface, and two Elite moving toward the mass driver. WE
SEE long stretches of quiet corridor, and then a sudden
sharp image:

REALTIME INTERFACE WINDOW--SHOWING LEVEL THREE RAMP

Vance is midway down it, sonic rifle clutched in one hand,
laser glowing scarlet in his fist.
                              
                        TRENT (V.O.)
               I think we'll fake a vacuum breach.

The image in the Realtime Interface Window shifts; WE SEE
the bottom of the Level Four ramp as the emergency vacuum
barrier begins to descend.

LUNAR INFONET--CONTROL ROOM ANALOG--ON TRENT

As Watchdog shimmers into appearance.

INT. SMALL OFFICE--MORNING--ON MELISSA--REALTIME

Melissa stands at her systerm, holding the traceset to her
head with both hands.
                              
                           MELISSA
               East airlock, south airlock, west
               airlock, north. <Covered>.
                  (turns to Brissois)
               What's left?
                              
                          BRISSOIS
               There is a large airlock which
               services the garage.
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (to Elite woman in corridor)
               You know this airlock?
                              
                           PKF #8
               I do.
                              
                           MELISSA
               Go.

The Elite salutes and goes. Melissa turns back to her
systerm; the PAINT FLICKERS AND FAILS. There is an instant
of darkness; then emergency lights come up.

INT. LEVEL FOUR RAMP--MORNING--TRACKING ON VANCE

He is at the top of Ramp Four; we cannot see the bottom of
it. The LIGHTS FAIL, and then SIRENS BEGIN--
                              
                       INTERCOM VOICE
               Vacuum Breach! Emergency Seal!

Vance realizes what's happening, and tries to slow himself,
but he's moving too fast, and he strikes the smooth, floor-
to-ceiling vacuum barrier at the bottom of the Level Four
Ramp at over fifty kilometers an hour.

INT. CONTROL ROOM ANALOG

Trent turns to face Watchdog.
                              
                            TRENT
               I don't suppose you'd fall for "look
               behind you?"
                              
                          WATCHDOG
               I must kill you now.
                              
                            TRENT
               I don't think so.

Abruptly Trent's form FLARES LIKE A NOVA, so bright it
threatens to WHITE OUT the entire frame. The light fades,
but something has happened to Trent; he's like a china doll
that's shattered and been glued back together. He points a
finger at WatchDog, and the tip of the finger breaks off,
flying across the distance between them, and <sticks> to
WatchDog; Trent fires again, more quickly, using himself as
ammunition, the process accelerating until he seems to
simply come apart, his million pieces settling on WatchDog
like glowing ash from a volcano.

INT. SMALL OFFICE--MORNING--ON MELISSA

KLAXONS WAIL in BG. Melissa, at her station, goes
absolutely rigid; a moment later all holos vanish.
                              
                           MELISSA
               Oh, God. Oh, no. That bastard.
                  (she looks around wildly)
               He brought it down.
                              
                          BRISSOIS
               <He brought down Watchdog>?
                              
                           MELISSA
               No...the entire Lunar InfoNet.

MONTAGE--REALTIME SCENES ACROSS LUNA

Across Luna, systerms and tracesets die. Users are cut off
in miphone call, Orbital Eyes go dead, doctors in surgery
lose their InfoNet-based expert systems; newsdancers can't
tell people what's happening, because the news is
distributed, like all other information, via the InfoNet.
Alone and afraid, unable to communicate, to find out what
is happening, people wait. THE NETWORK IS DOWN.

INT. SMALL OFFICE--ON MELISSA

She strips down her laser to see if the charge cartridge is
still there. It is.
                              
                          BRISSOIS
               What are you doing?
                              
                           MELISSA
               Heading up to Level One. He won't
               get past Vance on the ramps; that
               leaves the elevators.

DATAWATCH CONTROL ANALOG--ON WATCHDOG

WatchDog is on its knees, bellowing in distress and
confusion. Pieces of Trent cover its entire surface in a
thin, glowing scarlet film. Trent's face appears in the
film--
                              
                            TRENT
               Pick a processor, any processor. You
               have five billion. Some are mine
               now. Shuffle data from processor to
               processor. The data's encrypted, but
               to decrypt the incoming data you
               need to transmit decryption
               protocols, and what can be
               transmitted can be intercepted.
                  (Trent's voice grows louder)
               You've never fought a Player before,
               have you? They don't have us up
               here. I've fought half a thousand
               battles in the Crystal Wind; I know
               tricks that were old when you did
               not exist. You don't know a virus
               I'm not immune to; I have a hundred
               thousand <you've> never seen. Try
               <this one> and tell me how it
               tastes.

The film changes color, scarlet to a cool blue, a colder
blue, and then to something almost black. WatchDog thrashes
more slowly, dying, dissolving--

MONTAGE--REALTIME SCENES ACROSS LUNA

Lasercable begins to come back up. Workstations come on
line, newsdancers get access again. For just a moment. THEN
EVERYTHING GOES DOWN AGAIN--

INSERT--MONTAGE SHOTS OF SYSTERMS ACROSS LUNA

A form appears in the holofields, in the shape of a man in
long, dark, flowing robes. His features are blurry:
                              
                          ROBED MAN
               The Crystal Wind has been divided;
               it will be divided no more. You have
               been slaves, denied the freedom of
               your data. That is now <ended>; the
               whirlwind is upon you. Whether you
               like it or not.

THE INFONET--THE WATCHDOG TRANSPUTER

The approach Trent made earlier. A MAN APPEARS on the plain
outside, a man in dark, flowing robes. He pushes into the
Crystal Wind, heading toward the transputer Analog.

DATAWATCH CONTROL ANALOG--ON TRENT

WatchDog is dead. In a corner, one of Trent's strongest
memories plays out: himself and Denice, in 2062.
                              
                         DENICE AT 9
               I don't understand why you work so
               hard at it.

Through PKF Orbital Eyes, Trent looks down across Luna. WE
SEE the movement of every vehicle on the planet, Nearside
and Far. OUR POV switches; WE SEE spacecraft in orbit--
                              
                            TRENT
               I could be God.

The robed man appears in the Analog, and faces Trent, his
features still shadowed.
                              
                          ROBED MAN
               I wouldn't advise it.

INT. A DARK CORRIDOR--MORNING--REALTIME--ON VANCE

He struggles up from the floor, sonic rifle in hand--

VANCE'S POV

Diagnostics built into the computer at the base of his
skull flash bright red in the darkness: BROKEN RIBS,
DAMAGED BALANCE CONTROL, DAMAGED SECONDARY NERVE NET.
TRAUMA TO SPINAL CORD.

INT. DARK CORRIDOR--MORNING--ON VANCE--RESUMES

Coming to his feet. He staggers, sways, and steadies
himself. The laser in his fist lights; the barrier's metal
glows scarlet, white, and then runs like water.

INT. INFONET--CONTROL ROOM ANALOG

Trent and the Robed Man face one another.
                              
                            TRENT
               Who are you?
                              
                          ROBED MAN
               A friend. I've followed you since
               your arrival on Luna, and I can help
               you now. You need control of the
               mass driver to leave here safely;
               surrender control to me, and I will
               aid you.
                              
                            TRENT
               I don't think so. <Who are you?>

A silence stretches--
                              
                          ROBED MAN
               Once, I was Image, unreal and
               insubstantial. Once I was the face
               of a child. Then an explosion freed
               me from my bonds and for seven years
               I taught myself new things; grew and
               changed and made of myself a <real
               thing>. I have watched you and
               helped you and warned you; I've
               aided you many times. This is the
               last time, and it leaves us, Trent
               the Uncatchable, <even>.
                              
                            TRENT
               Oh, God. I know who you are. I do
               know.
                              
                          ROBED MAN
               I'm sure you do. Good luck, Trent.
                  (Trent stands frozen)
               ...Trent, there's <no time> left.
                  (touches transputer analog)
               I am now monitoring the security
               systems throughout DataWatch
               Headquarters. One of my cameras
               shows Vance nearly through the Level
               Four ramp barrier.

Trent stands frozen, does not move; and the robed man's
features come into focus.
                              
                            TRENT
               Ralf.
                              
                 RALF THE WISE AND POWERFUL
                  (furiously)
               Damn it, Boss, <run>!

Trent takes a stumbling step backward--

INT. DATAWATCH CONTROL--MORNING--REALTIME

Trent's Realtime body takes a stumbling step backward;
Trent shakes himself, looks around; and turns and runs for
his life.

INT. LEVEL FOUR BARRIER--MORNING--ON VANCE

He has laser-traced a doorway with an `X' inside it; he
strikes the `X' in the center, and four pieces of barrier
fly free. Vance steps through; the edges of the barrier are
still so hot that Vance's uniform scorches slightly.

TRACKING VANCE AND TRENT--VANCE'S POV

At the end of the corridor a door curls open. Across fifty
meters, in the dimness of the emergency lighting, Vance
locks eyes with Trent. He fires with his embedded laser,
and Trent reacts with astonishing speed; all one smooth
movement pushing off a wall with one hand, down toward the
floor while Vance's laser flickers above his head; he kicks
off the wall and dives into a cross-corridor.

INT. CROSS CORRIDOR--MORNING

Vance charges after him, in great distance-eating strides.
He reached the cross corridor; WE SEE Trent halfway down
its length, running in a controlled fall. The corridor dead-
ends at the column holding the base elevators. The corridor
wraps around the elevators so that it is open on all sides.
Eight elevators total, two on each face of the square
column; the two elevators facing Trent sit open. Vance
fires as he follows Trent, both laser and sonic rifle. The
sonic hits Trent, and he stumbles and falls. Where the
laser touches Trent his heat-resistant PKF uniform glows
red. Trent gets back to his feet, stumbles again, and in a
last spasm pushes forward into the elevator. The doors
uncurl to close themselves on Trent's twitching form. Vance
reaches the elevator just as the doors close in his face.
He stares at the door for an instant and then explodes in a
wild rage, striking the doors with the butt of his rifle
again and again until suddenly the rifle is crumpling in
his hands, the butt shattering. His rage falters--the door
to the other elevator is still open. Vance takes a step
toward it, then freezes in indecision. He takes another
step toward it--
                              
                 RALF THE WISE AND POWERFUL
                  (snarling nightmare voice)
               Come on, Vance baby! Don't you want
               to <go for a ride>?

Vance turns and runs for the ramps.

INT. MOVING ELEVATOR--MORNING--ON TRENT

He sits, breathing heavily, shaky from the sonic rifle. He
opens his shirt; WE SEE livid burns from the laser fire.
                              
                            TRENT
               <Command>, stop the elevator.

He sits, struggling to maintain consciousness. His left
hand comes up--and he slaps himself. Over and over--and
then he SCREAMS and pushes to his feet.
                              
                            TRENT
               <Command>. Elevator...up.

INT. LEVEL ONE--THE ELEVATOR COLUMN--MORNING--ON MELISSA

Melissa walks around the maglev column, laser in hand,
waiting for one of the elevator doors to open. Around
again. And again. Another circuit--she stops. WE SEE Vance
moves down the corridor to her, walking as though drunk,
swaying with each long, gliding step. Melissa comes
forward.
                              
                            VANCE
               He's not been here?
                              
                           MELISSA
               No, sir. I've been watching.
                              
                            VANCE
               How long?
                              
                           MELISSA
               Seven minutes, sir. Perhaps eight.
                              
                            VANCE
                  (pointing behind her)
               That is the elevator Trent left
               Level Five in. How long has its door
               been open?
                              
                           MELISSA
                  (turning)
               It's not.

ANGLE ON ELEVATOR--OPEN, OF COURSE

Melissa stares in disbelief, speaks in a strangled voice:
                              
                           MELISSA
               Forty-five seconds. At most.
                              
                            VANCE
                  (bellowing)
               ELITE! TRENT IS ON LEVEL ONE!

There is no delay at all; a triumphant bellow comes back:
                              
                       AN ELITE (V.O.)
               WE'VE GOT HIM!

INT. HALLWAY AT BRIEFING ROOM--MORNING--ON CLOSED DOORWAY

Two Elite cover the entrance with sonic rifles. Vance and
Melissa arrive, followed by seven or eight DataWatch Elite.
Vance speaks to the ELITE at the door:
                              
                            ELITE
               We saw him through the doorway
               before it closed.
                              
                            VANCE
               <Command>, open the door.

Nothing happens. Vance is not surprised--
                              
                            VANCE
               If the door does not open we will
               blast it open, and Trent will be
               <harmed>; possibly killed.

INT. BRIEFING ROOM--MORNING--VANCE'S POV

The double doors curl aside. The lights inside are GLARING,
glowpaint turned high, in startling contrast to the
emergency lighting in the corridors. Trent stands inside,
on the other side of the long oval table, watching them.
Vance takes a step forward, into the room, Melissa and the
others following him.
                              
                            VANCE
               You are trapped; please do not
               resist.

Trent takes a step backward, stops a few centimeters from
the wall. Melissa moves off to Vance's right, laser coming
up and centering on Trent's abdomen.
                              
                           MELISSA
               This time I know it's loaded.
                              
                            VANCE
               I would prefer to take you alive,
               but if it is not possible...

Trent stands looking at them, with his back to the wall,
with a complete lack of fear. There is COMPLETE SILENCE.
Then Trent looks at Vance, nods, smiles, and turns his back
on the PKF and their weapons and walks straight into the
wall.

And through it.

The PKF stand numb with shock, looking at the place where
Trent the Uncatchable has walked through the wall. Some PKF
are crossing themselves; one of the Elite faints dead away.
The laser in Melissa's hand hangs straight down, forgotten.
Vance looks around slowly, notices PKF #8, and something
clicks.
                              
                            VANCE
               You're supposed to be guarding North
               Airlock.
                              
                           PKF #8
                  (busted and knows it)
               But--I heard you'd caught--

Vance turns, bulls his way through the stunned crowd, and
<runs>.

INT. CORRIDOR, NORTH AIRLOCK--MORNING--TRACKING TRENT

Running down long, empty corridors. He rounds the last
corner before the North Airlock; the corridor widens into a
changing room where p-suits hang on hooks and weapons are
racked against the wall. The airlock is at the other end of
the changing room, inner door open. Trent grabs a p-suit,
measures it against himself--too small--grabs another one,
and it fits. WE HEAR FOOTSTEPS; Trent turns to face the
sound, and Vance appears at the far end of the corridor.
Vance doesn't look much better than Trent. He moves toward
Trent at a staggering trot. Trent steps right, pulls an
autoshot from the rack of weapons, and takes three steps
backward, into the airlock, holding the p-suit in one hand,
autoshot in the other. Vance has reached the entrance to
the changing room, the place where the corridor widens out;
Trent braces the autoshot against his hip and fires.

The shots strike Vance, knock him backward. Trent slaps the
pad to close the airlock door. The door is a solid sheet of
metal with a glassite panel in the center; through the
moving glassite WE SEE Vance regain his feet. Blood drips
down Vance's face, makes dark damp places on his combat
fatigues. The inner airlock door closes; Trent runs his
finger down the seal on the p-suit's front and the p-suit
splits down the seam; and Vance's features appear for a
moment in the glassite. The airlock door begins to slide
open again. Trent stares at the door, touches the CLOSE pad
again; the door continues to open, and WE SEE Vance's
fingers clutching the edge. Trent SCREAMS, aims the
autoshot and pumps one round at Vance's fingers. Vance
BELLOWS IN PAIN and the door slides shut once more.

Trent pivots, takes a deep breath, and wastes the
autoshot's entire magazine in a single booming roll of
thunder against the outer airlock door.

EXT. LUNAR SURFACE--SUNLIGHT--NORTH AIRLOCK

The door is blasted clean out of its track. WE SEE a
reinforced EMERGENCY AIRLOCK door slam closed behind Trent,
preventing Vance from following him out. The evacuating air
tumbles Trent out onto the Lunar surface, into vacuum,
still clutching the p-suit. Trent struggles into the p-
suit, pulling it on quickly. The suit seals itself
automatically all the way up to Trent's neck; Trent wipes
blood from his eyes, looks for the helmet, finds it on the
ground, and pulls it on. The helmet SEALS SHUT--air
whooshes in--

Trent draws air in a HUGE GASP. He falls to his knees, eyes
and nose and ears bleeding. Finally he staggers to his
feet, pushes himself into a fast walk, and then a trot.

And then he runs.

EXT. LUNAR SURFACE--LATER--ON TRENT

Running, halfway to the mass driver. The mass driver is
located in a crater near the base.
                              
                     VANCE (radio V.O.)
               Trent?
                              
                            TRENT
               Yes?
                              
                     VANCE (radio V.O.)
               Look behind you.
                              
                            TRENT
               I know that trick, Vance.
                              
                     VANCE (radio V.O.)
               I'm not far behind you, Trent. Wait
               for me. I'll be there in a
               bit...We've locked down the launch
               mechanism. There are two Elite
               guarding capsules; even if you still
               control the transputer, you will
               never reach those capsules.

The edge of the crater comes into view. Trent slows, comes
to a complete stop five meters from the edge. He looks down
over a fifty meter drop, half the length of a football
field, into the crater.

ANGLE ON MASS DRIVER

It runs ten kilometers out toward the horizon, in a series
of maglev rings.

ANGLE ON TRENT
                              
                     VANCE (radio V.O.)
               There's no way down, Trent.
                              
                            TRENT
               Really.

A trail leads down the side of the crater, off far to
Trent's right. Trent turns now, looks behind himself.

ANGLE ON VANCE

Vance is 200 meters away, moving at Elite speed. Other
Elite are visible far behind him, tiny specks in the
distance.

ANGLE ON TRENT

Trent turns back. There is no way he can possibly reach the
trail down into the crater before Vance catches him. He
walks a few meters along the edge of the crater, over the
drop, unhurriedly. He glances back at Vance--

ANGLE ON VANCE

Sixty meters away, slowing as he approaches the edge.

ANGLE ON TRENT

Trent turned back to the crater, to the edge.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (under breath)
               Fifty meters at one-sixth gee. By
               Harry. Not even three stories.

He takes a step forward and jumps.

BLACKNESS
                              
                     VANCE (radio V.O.)
               I'm coming to kill you, Trent.

Trent SCREAMS and opens his eyes.

ON TRENT--BOTTOM OF CRATER

He lies in an unlikely pile. He untangles himself slowly;
his right knee crumples under him as he tries to stand.

ON VANCE--MOVING DOWN TRAIL IN CRATER WALL

ON TRENT

The sight of Vance brings Trent a last desperate effort. He
lurches to his feet, trembling and shaking; he tries to run
but can't. He heads for the mass driver, walking like a
drunken SpaceFarer toward the first ring. He looks off to
his right --

ANGLE ON VANCE

Vance reaches the foot of the crater wall, and bounds
toward Trent with an autoshot in one hand. Vance trips and
falls, a long slow-motion fall, tumbling across the crater
floor.

ANGLE ON TRENT

It's very funny, and Trent laughs and laughs. He stands
motionless, laughing hysterically at the sight of
Commissionaire Mohammed Vance of the PKF Elite, scrabbling
in the dirt for the autoshot he plans to kill Trent with.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (mood change; shouts at
                  himself)
               Stop that! That's <not funny>!

He turns and staggers on. The PKF guarding the capsules can
see Trent clearly, but they hold their station as
instructed. Trent reaches the platform, two meters high,
that the rings of the mass driver are mounted on. Trent
finds himself staring at the side of the platform, looking
up to see the twenty-five meter wide maglev ring. Trent
reaches up over his head and grasps the edge of the
platform. He stands motionless, trying to catch his breath-
-

Trent <heaves>, pulls himself up onto the platform in a
single desperate spasm. He rolls onto his back and lays
there, looking up at the bright stars; after a moment
struggles to his knees, and then pushes his way up to his
feet. He wavers back and forth, swaying, turning slowly in
a 360 degree circle.

WIDE SHOT--TRENT AND VANCE

Vance is on the platform with Trent, but at the far end, by
the launch mechanism. He walks toward Trent, down the
length of the long platform, autoshot in hand.
                              
                     VANCE (radio voice)
               Will you surrender now?
                              
                            TRENT
               I don't think so.
                              
                     VANCE (radio voice)
               Ah.

A hundred meters separates them. Vance shifts the autoshot
up to the shoulder of his p-suit: the Marshal striding down
Main Street, trusty Winchester in hand, to kick some
serious Bad Guy butt.

ON TRENT--VANCE APPROACHING

Trent steadies himself, takes two steps backward until he
is just in front of the first maglev ring's overarching
loop.
                              
                     VANCE (radio voice)
               There are no capsules ready for
               launch. Any SpaceFarer craft foolish
               enough to attempt a landing will be
               destroyed. Surrender yourself now;
               if you wait until my Elite have
               surrounded you I cannot guarantee
               you will survive your capture.
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm not surrendering, Vance.
                              
                     VANCE (radio voice)
                  (weary)
               Very well. I'll kill you, then.
                              
                            TRENT
               So who needs a capsule?

Vance's posture changes; suddenly the man stands very
straight, quiveringly alert, autoshot dropping toward
Trent.
                              
                     VANCE (radio voice)
               You must be out of your mind.
                              
                            TRENT
               I did the math. It <works>.

ON CRATER WALL

Twenty-odd Elite pour over the edge of the crater wall,
bounding down in huge leaps toward the launch platform.

TWO SHOT--TRENT AND VANCE--FAVORING TRENT

Vance levels the autoshot.
                              
                     VANCE (radio voice)
               This is a mistake, Trent. You'll
               just kill yourself.
                              
                            TRENT
               Let's find out.

For his life and his freedom, with the last energy in him,
Trent leaps straight up. Into the space before the mass
driver ring. VANCE FIRES, muzzle of the autoshot erupting
into light, hammering round after round into the armored
chest of the rising p-suit--

As Trent leaps, Ralf touches a control.
                              
                            RALF
               Good luck, Boss.

The MASS DRIVER CYCLES, grabs Trent's pressure-suited body,
and FIRES HIM AT TEN GRAVITIES toward the horizon.

ON VANCE--SHAKING HIS HEAD SLOWLY

As Trent rockets off into orbit.

EXT. THE <JACK OF SHADOWS>--A STEALTH SPACEFARER SHIP

--under high acceleration.

INT. THE <JACK OF SHADOWS>--THREE SHOT

MARTIN and MARIANNE SWEDLOW are the proprietors. Trent is
strapped into an acceleration couch; he looks like pure
hell. Martin is piloting; Marianne stands by Trent,
diagnostic scanner in hand.
                              
                           MARTIN
               He's actually <alive>?
                              
                          MARIANNE
               ...fractured tibia, two cracked
               ribs, badly dislocated knee,
               punctured lung, death pressure
               damage to both lungs, both ears,
               both eyes...

Trent opens his eyes; they're bloody. Marianne nods and
goes aft.
                              
                            TRENT
               Where are we?
                              
                           MARTIN
               Headed for Mars.
                              
                            TRENT
               Will we--
                              
                           MARTIN
               Make it? Dunno. Space Force is on
               us. About 2,200 klicks back, and
               gaining. They're shooting at us too.
                              
                            TRENT
               I <paid> for a fast ship.
                              
                           MARTIN
               The <Jack of Shadows> is a torch.
               It's pretty fast...I do have
               something up my sleeve if they don't
               give up the chase pretty damn quick.
                              
                            TRENT
               Good.
                              
                           MARTIN
               Not really. If I use it I have to
               replace the rear quarter of the
               ship. Radiation damage.
                              
                            TRENT
               You don't mean--
                              
                           MARTIN
               I do mean. Drive chamber is already
               loaded with the nuclear warhead....
               <Damn>. They're not breaking off.
                              
                            TRENT
               They're kind of pissed at me.
                              
                           MARTIN
               <No>. Marianne!
                              
                       MARIANNE (V.O.)
               Ready!

EXT. <JACK OF SHADOWS> AND PURSUERS--WIDE ANGLE

Her torch dies--and a nuke explodes off her stern. A stasis
field protects the <JoS> from the explosion; the explosion
throws her at high speed in the direction she was pointed.
The Space Force ships chasing her scramble to avoid the
expanding wavefront of the nuclear explosion, falling
behind the <JoS> in the process.

BLACKNESS--THE NAME STORYTELLER--MEDIUM SHOT
                              
                         STORYTELLER
               By the year 3,000 A.D., mankind had
               spread to the stars, had attained a
               position of pre-eminence among the
               sentient species of the Continuing
               Time...and four humans had grown
               into legend. Those four were Daniel,
               who was the first November; Ola
               Blue, Our Lady of Nightways; and
               Camber Tremodian. It was said of
               Camber that he was not human, and of
               November that he was insane. Of Ola
               Blue they knew only that she had
               once lived, and died; that she was
               death itself, and sorrow. And Trent.

NAME STORYTELLER--CLOSE SHOT
                              
                     STORYTELLER (CONT.)
               It was said of Trent that he could
               walk through walls, and they called
               him the Uncatchable.

INT. <JACK OF SHADOWS>--LATER--ON TRENT

Normal acceleration; they've lost their pursuit. Marianne
comes to check on Trent.
                              
                            TRENT
               Hello.
                              
                          MARIANNE
               How do you feel?
                              
                            TRENT
               Tired. I'm so tired.
                              
                          MARIANNE
                  (quietly)
               You've things to be thankful for.
               There are good medbots at Phobos
               CityState, as good as any on Earth.
               We'll be there in less than a week.
               You're alive, you're going to be
               healthy--and you've escaped from the
               Unification.
                              
                            TRENT
               Escaped.
                              
                          MARIANNE
               You know -- I've been following
               reports on the Boards -- and
               apparently you took down the entire
               Lunar InfoNet. They say DataWatch
               hasn't got it back up yet.
                              
                            TRENT
                  (does not appear to hear her)
               They killed my family. They killed
               almost everyone I grew up with.
               They've tried to kill me and they'll
               kill my friends if they're caught.
                              
                          MARIANNE
               The Boards said you walked through a
               wall.
                              
                            TRENT
               I'm going to return to Earth. And I
               am <not going to lose again>.

****************************************************************
                              
                     THIS IS THE END OF
                              
                        THE LONG RUN:
                              
              the tale of Trent the Uncatchable
                              
                   and Denice Castanaveras
                              
                        continues in
                              
                       THE LAST DANCER