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TRIUMVIRATE (Installment Three)
By The Host
Here's part three of Triumvirate; roughly the next eleven minutes (to the thirty-one minute mark). Look for the next installment Sunday!
EXT. STARBASE ONE ONE FOUR -- LATER
The remnants of the fleet, led by the Glory, arrive at Starbase One One Four. It is a massive station, a veritable city twinkling like a diamond in the vast vacuum of space. The vessels slow down as they reach the station, which is already buzzing with transports and freighters and patrols going hither and thither.
INT. STARBASE ONE ONE FOUR -- QUARTERS -- BRIGHT
The door noiselessly opens and Robert Johnson and Jack Davies stare in from the busy corridor, each holding a small duffel bag; Davies’s forehead is bandaged. The surroundings are spartan: bunk beds and tucked linen, a desk by each bunk with a lamp and computer monitor, and a small sitting area at the far end, near a larger desk and monitor. Only two of the sixteen bunks look lived in.
Johnson takes a halting step forward.
JOHNSONThis is creepy.
DAVIESThey’ve been dead, what, a few hours now? And it’s like they never existed. . .
The two walk into the room and the door closes behind them. They each go to their own bunk and begin unloading their duffel bags. Davies is folding a uniform as he speaks.
DAVIES (CONT'D)So what now?
JOHNSONI dunno. We haven’t got a flight group anymore. I guess we live here until we’re reassigned.
DAVIESAnd how long do you think that’ll take?
JOHNSONI’m sure a couple of days, no more.
DAVIESHmm.
Davies stops folding, continues to stare down at his bunk, considering, as Robert finishes with his duffel bag and takes it over to his locker at the far end of the room. Davies starts to fold again.
DAVIES (CONT'D)So I guess we’ll probably have to say good-bye to our quarters.
JOHNSONI guess so.
Johnson closes his locker and takes a seat nearby. He flicks on the large monitor next to him; a holographic image of a revolving cartoonish sealed envelope appears in front of it. Splayed across it are the words, ‘You’ve got mail!’ An ANNOYING VOICE speaks.
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)You’ve got mail!
JOHNSON(Smiling)
We’ve got mail, Jack.
Davies comes to a quick decision, puts his uniform down, and speaks, still looking at his bunk.
DAVIESRobert, can we talk?
Robert Johnson shuts off the monitor and leans forward masking the concern in his voice.
JOHNSONYeah, sure. We’re talking now.
DAVIESYou know that weapons facility we attacked?
JOHNSONWeapons facility? Oh, yeah, that weapons facility. I remember now.
DAVIESIt wasn’t a weapons facility at all.
(Looking up)
It was a medical research lab.
Johnson looks surprised. He meets an instant’s hesitation before he speaks.
JOHNSONMedical research lab?
Jack takes a seat at the table across from Johnson.
DAVIESYeah. And you know that plague that’s been spreading around, killing all those people on Al T’Har?
JOHNSONThey don’t bathe properly.
DAVIESWell, this facility just discovered a cure.
Another pause. Then Johnson laughs.
JOHNSONThat’s crazy, Jack. The United Star Systems wouldn’t have us attack a medical research lab. That’s against the Human Covenant. Why would they want to, anyway?
DAVIESI don’t know.
JOHNSONAnd, anyway, how do you claim to know all this?
DAVIESI saw it.
JOHNSONYou saw it.
DAVIES (Pointing with his right middle and index fingers to his eyes)
With these two eyes.
JOHNSONWhen?
DAVIESThey captured me after we ejected. Their station commander showed me the people dying. He showed me the labs. He gave me this.
Davies withdraws from his left breast pocket a small vial containing a purple serum.
JOHNSONWhat’s that?
(Beat)
The cure?
DAVIESYeah.
A momentary silence. Johnson shakes his head, leans back.
JOHNSONI don’t believe it. It’s probably a placebo, maybe sugar and water—
DAVIESI’ve seen it work. They showed me. Takes five, maybe six minutes. It’s miraculous, Robert.
JOHNSONBut why would the USS attack a lab? It just doesn’t make sense. They must have been manufacturing some kind of weapon, a biological one maybe.
DAVIESI don’t think so, Robert.
JOHNSONWhy don’t you think so?
DAVIESI don’t know, I just don’t. I saw the place. You should have seen their faces, Robert, the dying. . . Dying or cured, they’re all dead now. I don’t remember how I ever got away.
(Taps vial)
But I’m sure that this is the only cure left.
Davies replaces the vial into his pocket.
JOHNSONWell, what are you going to do with it?
DAVIESI don’t know that, either. I’m going to wait and see what happens at first. This is going to take a lot of thought.
JOHNSONDon’t you think you should tell someone?
DAVIESYeah. I just told you.
JOHNSONI mean somebody in charge. Admiral Copley should know. Under the terms of the Covenant, the USS is required to aid even Al T’Har—
DAVIESAfter what I saw today I don’t put much faith in the Human Covenant of the United Star Systems and its Allies.
JOHNSONThen what will you put your faith into?
Davies scratches his nose and runs his finger across his lips before answering.
DAVIESI don’t know.
INT. STARBASE ONE ONE FOUR -- ADMIRAL COPLEY’S OFFICE -- DIM
ADMIRAL COPLEY sits at his sleek, spotless desk in his expansive and darkly empty office. A series of windows behind him reveal a starfield beyond filled with dozens of starships going about their business. Copley, a portly, balding man of about sixty, is reading something on a monitor at his desk. Next to the monitor is a bottle of vodka and a glass half-filled with the clear liquid. Copley absently picks the glass up and takes a sip, placing it back down next to the ring of moisture it had left behind. There is a soft beep followed by the voice of his secretary, MONA.
MONA (V.O.)Admiral Copley, Admiral Dawson is arriving now with his fleet and is requesting communications uplink with you. Also there is a young man here, Petty Officer Davies. He says he has an appointment with you.
Copley exhales heavily, picks up his glass, and swishes around its contents.
COPLEYI really shouldn’t keep the Admiral waiting, Mona. So send the boy in first.
MONA (V.O.)Yes, sir.
Copley swiftly downs the rest of his drink and places the glass and bottle beneath his desk. He stands as the door to his office opens and Jack Davies steps in. Davies comes to attention and salutes the Admiral as the door sweeps closed behind him.
COPLEYDon’t bother with that, now, Jack. May I call you Jack?
DAVIESYes, sir.
COPLEYWell, Jack, my boy, leave your formality outside. We have no room for insubordination here so I’ve decided that there’ll be no subordination. Come, come, sit down.
Copley indicates a seat across from his desk. Davies crosses the office floor and sits, glancing quickly at Copley’s desk. Copley then sits down and, looking at his desk himself, sees the fresh moisture ring. He tactfully places his arm over that spot and slowly moves it toward him as he speaks, pressing firmly. The moisture disappears.
COPLEY (CONT'D)Now, then, why is it that you are here, Mr. Davies?
DAVIESSir, I received an order to report to you at eighteen-hundred. If you’ll allow me to say, sir, it is really an honor, but I haven’t the slightest idea why I have been called here.
COPLEYYou haven’t, have you . . . ? Well, I must say, Jack, the honor is mine. It is not often that I meet a prisoner of war who so quickly escapes from his captors.
There is a brief awkward pause.
DAVIESSir, I—
COPLEYNow, now, I told you to leave your formality outside. You needn’t call me ‘sir.’ But I do know about your capture and I have no idea why you didn’t report it to anybody.
DAVIESSir, I really didn’t remember much from it. I was banged pretty hard on the head at some point.
Copley considers this. He eyes Davies suspiciously as he speaks.
COPLEYHmmm . . . You know, Jack, there are some intelligence specialists who can retrieve forgotten memories. Hypnosis, that sort of thing. The reason I’m interested, see, is that you might hold some very valuable intelligence information, whether you consciously remember it or not. Depending, of course, upon what you’ve seen.
This last line holds a sort of resonance. During the silence that follows, Copley eyes Davies very closely. Then the older man continues.
COPLEY (CONT'D)We would like it very much if you would agree to undergo a series of tests for information retrieval purposes only. Nothing very dramatic; should only take a few hours out of a few days. But you might hold a very powerful weapon in that brain of yours.
A fleeting pause, just an instant too long – betraying just the slightest hint of hesitation in Davies’ answer.
DAVIESI will do whatever I can, sir.
Copley smiles and stands.
COPLEYGood, then. We’ll be calling for you, Jack. That’s all: you’re released.
Jack stands.
DAVIESThank you, sir. Um, good night.
COPLEYGod bless.
Davies nods, turns, and marches out of the office. When he is gone Copley sighs and resumes his seat. He withdraws his bottle and glass but is interrupted again by his secretary.
MONA (V.O.)Shall I put you through to the Admiral?
Copley sighs again and puts back his bottle and glass.
COPLEYDamn.
The word echoes into non-existence.
FADE OUT. . .
FADE IN:
INT. STARBASE ONE ONE FOUR -- CENTRAL CORRIDOR --- BRIGHT
Starbase One One Four’s central corridor is a wide and lofty space, a veritable beehive of activity. It is bright and pleasant, with several levels of balcony overlooking tall planted trees. Through the glass vaulted ceiling Admiral Dawson’s fleet appears to be drawing near. Even busier than the goings-on outside are those inside: HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE move through the many-storied hall, some running, some strolling, some taking a moment to rest. Jack Davies is slowly walking through their midst, staring upwards and ahead, when he comes upon Robert Johnson, walking rapidly towards him. Robert calls out.
JOHNSONHey, Jack!
DAVIES (Halting but still looking up)
Looks like our reinforcements are here.
JOHNSONHuh?
(Looking up)
Oh, yeah.
(Looking back at Davies)
Listen, Jack, we’ve got our reassignment detail, it’s effective day after tomorrow. All the details are back at—
DAVIESRobert?
JOHNSONYeah?
Davies looks level at Robert now.
DAVIESWho did you tell?
JOHNSONHuh?
DAVIESWho did you tell? Did you go straight to Copley?
Johnson sighs.
DAVIES (CONT'D)I just met with Copley. I think he knows that I’ve got it.
JOHNSONJesus, Jack, I didn’t tell Copley, and I didn’t tell anybody that you had the cure.
Davies gestures emphatically for Johnson to be quieter, more discrete. The two begin to walk together as they converse.
DAVIESBut you told somebody something.
JOHNSONYeah. I had to, Jack. Whatever you saw, if it is what you say, well, that’s something big. But I didn’t tell them about the cure. I didn’t even say what you saw. I just reported that you had been captured and somehow escaped. I figured that if you thought it was safe you’d tell them everything. But I had to tell somebody.
DAVIESWhy?
JOHNSONJack, if that was a medical research center we attacked, then the USS must have had their reasons for it. I don’t pretend to know what those might have been. But it must be pretty damned important if it warranted attacking a medical research center.
DAVIESImportant doesn’t necessarily mean justifiable.
JOHNSONLook, you have your beliefs and I have mine. But justifiable or not, don’t you think that maybe you’re getting in over your head? Because if I’m right, then you might be holding back a good cause by keeping that cure—
(Davies again gestures to be quiet)
That thing. And if you’re right, and this is all some nefarious scheme ... Well, then, I’d say that every minute you keep that thing it gets a little more dangerous.
So, I'll ask again: whaddya think? If you took the time to read this, imagine the time it took to write it. Surely you can leave me a little comment, now, can't you?
-The Host
11/29/2002 12:28:18 PM
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