PLANET OF THE APES
1. EXT. STARFIELD - NIGHT
A sprinkling of STARS against the black backdrop of endless space. We
TILT DOWN - down, through nothingness and more
nothingness, until -
BLAZING COLORS - reds, blues, sizzling whites - explode across the sky.
A SECOND BURST erupts - then a THIRD - and we
continue to TILT DOWN until a familiar sight dominates the screen:
2. THE STATUE OF LIBERTY
We're not in outer space after all - just New York City. Another round
of FIREWORKS lights up the sky, and off in the
distance we hear CHEERING. SUPER TITLE: 4 JULY 1998
3. EXT. TIMES SOUARE - NIGHT
Packed streets; the whole city seems to have turned out for the show.
Drunken revelers, tourists, hookers and
hustlers, cops on horseback - greeting each new pyrotechnic display
with WHOOPS of giddy hilarity.
4. EXT. BROOKLYN HEIGHTS - THE PROMENADE - NIGHT
Manhattan just across the harbor, Lady Liberty to the south. Young
COUPLES in love, FAMILIES with kids - they're all
lined up six deep at the Promenade railing, CLAPPING AND CHEERING.
5. EXT. ROOFTOP - SPANISH HARLEM - NIGHT
A dozen or so TEENAGE KIDS up on the roof, necking, smoking, drinking
beers, playing loud MUSIC - all GRINNING at the
fireworks. One of them LOOKS UPWARD at the sound of a far-off WHISTLING
. . .Suddenly, his face is BATHED in RED
LIGHT. A SCREAMING comes across the sky. A FIREBALL streaks down from
above . . .. . . and it stems to be coming
DIRECTLY TOWARD HIM! With a yelp of fear, he dives to the tar-and-
gravel surface of the roof. The other kids turn, SEE
WHATS COMING, and join him there.
6. EXT. PROMENADE - THAT MOMENT
PANIC in the crowd as they see the fireball approaching. It looks as
though it's going to slam smack into Manhattan.
7. EXT. TIMES SOUARE - THAT MOMENT
CHAOS. PANDEMONIUM. Times Square turns the color of MOLTEN LAVA as the
fireball streaks past overhead, so close it
almost seems you could reach up and touch it. The cheers have given way
to hysteria ...
8. EXT. PROMENADE - THAT MOMENT
ALL SPECTATORS have now abandoned the Promenade. The sky's ablaze with
light. It's high noon - at midnight.
The FIREBALL slices downward from the clouds, clearing the Battery,
nearly shaving the top story off the World Trade Center. It slaps into
harbor with the percussive force of an exploding bomb.
9. EXT. ROOFTOP - NIGHT
THE KIDS ON THE ROOF, slackjawed at the light show. A beat - then they
begin WHOOPING and APPLAUDING WILDLY.
10. EXT. NEW YORK HARBOR - NIGHT
A vast, red-hot cloud of SCALDING STEAM rising from the water . . . and
spreading across the night sky until the
cityscape of Manhattan is completely obscured behind it. FADE THROUGH
11. EXT. NEW YORK HARBOR - DAY
The harbor is congested with ships. COAST GUARD CUTTERS; two
oceanographic RESEARCH VESSELS; a CONTAINER SHIP, half
again the size of the Exxon Valdez; and a FLOATING CRANE. MILITARY
HELICOP- TERS are circling lazily above it all.
The decks of the various vessels are swarming with people - not just
crewmen, but military observers, government
bureaucrats, civilians - and all eyes are on the CRANE as the chain
begins to rise.
A CHARRED, BLACK MASS breaks the surface of the water.
It's no meteorite. It's a MACHINE - of inexplicably baroque design,
with ornate curlicues, filigree, nodules and
modules protruding in all directions. It looks not unlike a pair of
Sherman tanks joined together, Siamese-twin style,
at the cannon turrets. Or a flying Rorschach blot.
12. EXT. FISHING BOAT - THAT MOMENT - DAY
The disgruntled CAPTAIN of a ramshackle fishing boat is watching the
action with binoculars. His crew can't set sail
while the harbor's blocked, and they've already lost half a day's
That's a weather satellite?
One skeptical crewman is reading the Post. The page-one banner head-
line screams: "WEATHER SATELLITE NEARLY FLATTENS MANHATTAN"
They don't close off the whole harbor for no damn weather satellite.
13. EXT. HARBOR - ON FLOATING CRANE
The crane hoists its cargo high into the air and PIVOTS - swinging the
strange alien craft into position over the deck
of the CONTAINER SHIP.
14. INT. HOLD - CONTAINER SKIP - THAT MOMENT
TECHNICIANS in airtight SAFE SUITS are preparing a great plasticene
SHROUD. Once the craft has been lowered into the
ship, the shroud will be sealed around it, forming a sterile tent. No
one knows what they'll find inside the craft -
but they don't want it getting out prematurely.
15. EXT. DECK - CONTAINER SHIP - THAT MOMENT
A twelve-foot wall of SCAFFOLDING has been erected around the hold of
the ship. MORE SCIENTIFIC GEAR is mounted on it:
an X-ray machine, an ultrasound unit, a heat-sensing device, COAST
GUARDSMEN clamber up the scaffolding like monkeys, helping the CRANE
OPERATOR guide the craft into the hold.
TECHNICIANS stare at their various monitors and telemetric readouts.
The ULTRASOUND OPERATOR shouts into the hold . .
IT'S HOLLOW. IT'S HOLLOW. Jesus . . . THERE'S SOMETHING MOVING IN
A thermal printer spits out a hard copy of the ultrasound screen. A
FUZZY, MANLIKE SILHOUETE is plainly visible
within the craft.
Oh man, Herb - this looks like a -
An EXPLOSION interrupts him.
A HATCH has BLOWN OPEN just beneath the left wing - and now, dangling
from its chain, the whole craft begins to
ROTATE. Whatever's inside is about to come out.
Several GUARDSMEN dive from the scaffolding to the deck. Others are too
scared to move.
And a couple reach instinctively for their SIDEARMS . . .
VOICES FROM HOLD [o.s.]
Don't shoot! DON'T SHOOT!!
16. INT. CRAFT - THAT MOMENT
A POV shot from WITHIN the craft - looking THROUGH the open hatch at
the frenzy outside. As the craft turns, a
GUARDSMAN comes into view - clinging to the scaffolding, WIDE-EYED WITH
In the foreground, a WHITE-GLOVED HAND rises suddenly into frame . . .
and an inhuman voice croaks out something that
Plleeeeeeeezzz . . .
WHATEVER HE SEES drives him into a frenzy. He STARTS SHOOTING.
17. EXT. DECK - OUTSIDE THE CRAFT - ON GUARDSMEN
A blur of motion. The PASSENGER of the craft, BLEEDING, pitches forward
through the open hatch and hangs there, half
in, half out. A SECOND GUARDSMAN lunges at the guy with the gun -
YOU IDIOT! WHAT ARE YOU -
They grapple. The CRAFT, dangling in midair, ROTATES AROUND - and the
OPEN HATCH DOOR knocks both GUARDSMAN to the
Screaming and confusion all around. The CRANE OPERATOR swings the pod
hard left, trying to avoid any further injuries.
Like a big wrecking ball, the craft slams into the scaffolding, causing
it to COLLAPSE.
The CRANE OPERATOR tries to HOIST the pod away from the damage. As it
rises, we ZERO IN on the dead PASSENGER dangling
out of the open hatch. A TRICKLE OF BLOOD runs down the side of the
craft . . .
. . . and POOLS on the deck . . . where it SEETHES and CHURNS like a
living, tumorous organism . . .
. . . until a small quantity of BUBBLING PINK ORGANIC SLOP arises from
the puddle of blood, and begins to CRAWL AWAY
across the deck!!
BOOTS sprint past, SPLATTERING the moist pink crawling goo into several
discrete globules. But the globules REGROUP,
as if driven by some primordial homing instinct, into a single
pulsating mass. The undulating blob squirts out a
tendril and DRAGS ITSELF across the deck -- over the railing -- INTO
18. EXT. FISHING BOAT -DAY
The CAPTAIN lowers his binoculars and snorts in disgust.
Your tax dollars at work. - Stow the goddam nets. Let's go home.
He takes a last bite of his sandwich, chucks what's left overboard.
A SEAGULL spots breakfast and swoops toward the captain's leftovers. It
snags a hunk of meat and lets out a startled
SQUAWK. The bird flaps its wings furiously, trying to take flight --
-- but a LONG PINK TENDRIL pulls it downward. The keening gull VANISHES
beneath the waves as we
19. INT. HOSPITAL - BIRTHING CENTER - DAY
An enormously PREGNANT WOMAN is drinking from a water fountain in the
hallway of a modern MATERNITY WARD. SUPER TITLE:
12 APRIL 1999 NINE MONTHS LATER
She lets out a little SQUEAK. A helpful NURSE rushes to her side.
I think I felt another contraction!
SPLATTERING NOISES on the tiles. Her water's broken. She looks down,
lets out a little exclamation of embarrassment .
Don't worry, well take care of that. The birthing room is all ready for
The PREGNANT WOMAN glances down the hallway, where the corridors
intersect. Several DOCTORS appear to be in a big
hurry. A guy in a suit uses a KEY to summon the FREIGHT ELEVATOR.
The elevator opens - and the DOCTORS push what looks like a CHROME
SARCOPHAGUS onboard. It's three feet long. On a
rolling cart. With a refrigeration unit beneath it ...
What in the world is that?
Oh, it's . . . it's for preemies.
(swiftly turning her around)
A SCREAM echoes in the hospital corridors. Not the scream of a woman in
labor - this one's a MAN.
The PREGNANT WOMAN glances back over her shoulder - just in time to see
an hysterical FATHER at the end of the
corridor, with ORDERLIES and DOCTORS swarming around, trying to calm
This way. Please.
She steers the pregnant mom down the hall, away from the commotion.
20. EXT. HOSPITAL- ROOFTOP
A HELICOPTER touches down on the rooftop helipad, and a group of
SPECIALISTS from the Centers from Disease Control in
They carry themselves with the natural authority of young hotshots -
the best and brightest in their field.
Leader of the pack is DR. SUSAN LANDIS, a handsome woman in her early
thirties, with a face full of quick, ironic
intelligence, insatiable curiosity, boundless good humor. When she's on
the job, though, she takes on a crisp,
no-nonsense, almost military demeanor - and just now, she is well and
truly on the job. She hits the tarmac moving . .
Susan! Thanks for coming so quickly -
DR. ENGEL is 64, heavyset, distinguished-looking. He's at the head of a
phalanx of doctors and hospital
administrators. She gives him a warm smile as the two groups head en
masse for the rooftop elevator.
For you? Black plague couldn't keep me away. - What's the latest?
Holding at five?
It was five yesterday, Susan. Today it's -
I'll let you see for yourself.
21. INT. HOSPITAL - OBSERVATION ROOM - DAY
The whole gang's scrubbed down and changed into surgical gear. They're
looking through a glass window into a maternity ward lined with CRIBS.
The room is sealed - and the obstetric NURSES are wearing SAFE SUITS.
Now get ready for this. I don't think any of
you have ever seen anything like it . . .
ENGEL gestures to a NURSE on the other side of the glass. She gingerly
lifts an infant from its crib . . . pulls the swaddling back from its
face . . .
Several of the CDC hotshots jump back in shock. The newborn infant is
leathery, wrinkled, with liver spots and rotting yellow teeth. It
nine pounds. It looks like an EIGHTY-YEAR-OLD MAN.
I've seen it. Hutchinson-Gilford . . .
Neonatal progeria, right? Accelerated aging in
Kids are usually dead by the time they're ten.
No, Susan, no. If it was Hutchinson-Gilford I
wouldn't have called you up from Atlanta.
(gesturing to the NURSE)
We've got three neonates here, all born today.
This one was 3 PM - just over an hour ago.
The NURSE leans over a crib, unwraps a baby. It has a full head of oily
hair - the acne-covered face of an adolescent.
This one was noon.
Same routine. Baby #2 looks like a sallow, balding, middle-aged man.
And this one was 7:45 AM . . .
Before the NURSE can pull back the blankets a TINY, CLAWLIKE HAND
shoots out from the third crib - waving with knobby, arthritic fingers.
SUSAN stares compassionately at the ancient, wizened infant. She
knows it's pointless, but she can't stop herself from waving back.
When they're born they look normal. Within
twelve hours . . . they're dead of old age.
The CDC crew are already BUZZING among themselves.
- You've had five of these??
I told you, Susan. It was five yesterday.
ENGEL raps on another observation window - this one curtained off.
Inside, a nurse draws the curtain back, allowing SUSAN to see . . .
. . . an entire ROOMFUL of afflicted babies, THIRTY OR FORTY OF
THEM, in various stages of disintegration.
ALL HEADS TURN at a new round of SHRIEKS and WAILING from
anguished parents in the hallway. The CDC crew falls deadly silent -
ashen-faced. It's as if they've just seen the end of the human race.
We haven't had a normal birth today.
22. INT HOSPITAL - CONFERENCE ROOM
It's been commandeered by the CDC high command, who have taken
over every available phone jack to plug their laptops into the net.
are several open pizza boxes on the central table.
- and we don't know what to do with the
parents. You heard what the maternity ward
is like. It's bedlam.
Forget about containing it. it'll be in all the
papers by morning.
A CDC WORKER, ALBERT, rushes up to SUSAN with a printout.
Here's what we've got. Eight in Chicago;
eleven in Pittsburgh; four in our beloved home
town of Atlanta . . .
- and Jersey is crawling with 'em.
Let's hope for a contact vector. If it's airborne
we're knee-deep in shit creek.
it's incomprehensible. Hutchinson-Gilford's a
spontaneous mutation. How could it be infectious?
My guess is it's not. If you isolated the
mutagen you could reproduce it - transfect
the population by virus. Catch the virus, and
the mutagen kicks in . . .
But that would mean somebody had to -
Tailor it, yeah. The big question is when. If
this stuff's had nine months to spread . . .
SUSAN looks up at the sound of a choked SOB from across the table. In
the midst of all the frantic activity, one of the CDC team, a young
named DONNA, has totally lost it. She sits frozen over her laptop
face buried in both hands.
SUSAN goes over and lays a consoling hand on her shoulder.
Take a break, Donna. Grab a catnap. We'll
get by without you for an hour.
No, no, I'm fine. I'll-
Just that quickly, her hands are racing over the keyboard again.
Whoa. That's no suggestion, that's an order.
DONNA looks up at her hollow-eyed, TEARS trickling down her cheeks.
Susan, I'm two months pregnant.
There's nothing SUSAN can say. Stunned, she sits down beside her
colleague. The two of them embrace.
23. INT. CDC - FOUR MONTHS LATER - DAY
SUSAN and ALBERT at an electron microscope. The grainy image from
the microscope appears on a large overhead MONITOR.
There's a tiny tendriled PINK ORGANISM floating among the red and
white corpuscles . . .
That's our vector.
Whose blood are we looking at?
Yours. It doesn't like you. You're not going to
get pregnant. It's just loitering around with
nothing to do.
She nicks a switch. The image on the monitor changes. LOTS OF little
pink critters, occasionally SHOOTING OUT pseudopods at passing
sometimes actually INGESTING them.
This is me. It's interested. No action yet, but
definite possibilities. And this . . .
Flick - another new image. Pink blobs everywhere, FEASTING.
Jesus, it's an orgy!
She gives him a tight little cockeyed smile ...
Six months pregnant. Work to do. Cells to
invade. DNA to ruin . . .
What is it? It's not a virus, exactly. It -
Albert, I don't have a bleeding clue what it is.
There's nothing like it on the books. All I
know is, it's awfully good at what it does.
She turns off the monitor. They sit there in glum silence.
That last sample. Was that Donna?
SUSAN nods wearily.
She's still going to carry the baby to term?
I guess she's hoping for a breakthrough. I
guess she's counting on us to . . .
The odds against them are too enormous. She can't even say the words.
24. INT. TELEVISION STUDIO - NIGHT
A remote linkup site for ABC Nightline. A CAMERA CREW bustles
around a bank of MONITORS on which we see live footage of a) a smug
REVEREND; b) a State Dept. TERRORJSM EXPERT; and c) TED KOPPEL,
at his desk in foreground, the other two composited behind him.
REVEREND [an monitor]
The year 2000 is upon us, Ted. We're seeing
the fulfillment of biblical prophecy. There's no
question the last days are at hand.
TERRORISM EXPERT [on monitor]
It's a simple failure of policy. We've known for
years that the international terror network is
heavily invested in biological weapons -
The THIRD GUEST is SUSAN, taping live right here in the linkup studio,
and she's listened to this stuff long enough.
No. No. This is not something you can buy
from your neighborhood arms broker. This is
generations beyond anything we can do -
Yet somebody did it. If it didn't come out of
our labs, then -
All things are possible with God.
SUSAN and the EXPERT roll their eyes, let out snorts of frustration.
The REVEREND sits there smiling, Buddha-like in his serenity.
Reverend, exactly what are you getting at?
As a nation, Ted, we've denied the sanctity of
human life; we've put our trust in scientists,
like the young lady here, instead of in God;
and now with this horrible plague our own
sins are finally coming back to -
Oh, come on, Reverend. Is it biblical prophecy
or is it my fault? Let's make up our minds.
We'd all love to hear your explanation.
SUSAN [on TV]
It's not divine retribution. It's not Islamic
fundamentalists. I know this sounds absurd,
I know it's ludicrous, but it's the only expla-
nation that makes sense.
This plague did not originate on earth. We've
25. INT. SUSAN'S APARTMENT - LATER - NIGHT
She opens the door, slams it shut behind her, and lets out a GASP.
The lights are on. There's a STRANGE MAN in her favorite reading chair,
over by the wall of books. He's fortyish, Jamaican, perpetually
He's smoking a pipe. He's made himself very much at home.
Who are you?
He jumps to his feet, shows her what he's been reading. It's a textbook
on viruses. The author is SUSAN herself.
I was just wondering why they don't put the
author's photo on textbooks. They'd sell a lot
more copies in your case.
(extending a hand)
Raymond Dodge. I watched you on Nightline.
You were terrific.
SUSAN ignores his hand. She marches to the phone, dials 911.
Found the popcorn okay, I hope?
(into the phone)
Hello, I'd like to report a -
She stops in mid-sentence - stares at a pair of SUITCASES standing near
the door. Her suitcases. She lowers the phone, GAPES at DODGE.
Our plane's leaving in forty minutes.
I packed a couple of weeks' worth. If you need
mare things, we can have them sent.
You've been in all my stuff? What is this? I
don't even know who you are!
I'm Raymond Dodge, and I'm here on behalf of
Dr. Troy --
Dr. Troy? Alexander Troy?
From the JPL. You know him?
I get PBS.
He wants you to come to New Mexico tonight.
He has some . . . information that might be of
interest to you.
About the plague?
(off DODGE's nod)
Does he know about telephones?
SUSAN storms to the front door and opens it to usher DODGE out.
You know, Mr. Dodge, I'd like to help you out,
but the work I'm doing here is actually kind of
important. I do appreciate the invitation . . .
Wincing, DODGE looks past her into the hallway. SUSAN turns abruptly
- and finds herself staring at two FEDS in dark suits and shiny shoes,
posted on the landing outside her apartment door.
Well, that's just it, Dr. Landis. It's not exactly
what you'd call an invitation.
DODGE points to the suitcases. The FEDS barge in and grab one apiece.
SUSAN is too bewildered to protest.
26. EXT. DESERT - AIR FORCE BASE - DAY
Okay, call it Roswell - a top-secret underground facility hidden in the
New Mexico desert. The only signs of it on the surface are a series of
PLANE HANGARS carved out of a semicircular CLIFF WALL.
A MILITARY HELICOPTER slices through the cloudless skies and
descends toward a vast MESA at the foot of the cliffs. Great horizontal
PANELS set into the door of the plateau slide back to admit it. 27. ~T.
HELICOPTER~PAV A USAF PILOT up front; in the
rear are SUSAN and DODGE. She's looking about in amazement as the
helicopter descends past SENTRY TOWERS and great
swiveling ANTI-AIRCRAFT GUNS mounted in the sheer cliff walls.
DODGE looks bored. He's smoking his pipe, paging through a sheaf of
computer printouts. For him it's just another commuter flight.
28. RVT. UNDERGROUND COMPLEX - DAY
NORAD would be green with envy. everywhere you turn, there's a
research team working at a bank of fantastically expensive equipment.
It's the sort of place James Bond villains hang out, when they're
to overthrow the world.
A glass ELEVATOR CAPSULE disgorges SUSAN and DODGE.
You think you know where the plague originated?
I'll let Troy tell you about it.
(to a TECHNICIAN)
Dino! Is Troy up yet?
You're just in time for his wake-up call.
(checking her watch)
Dr. Troy believes in getting his beauty sleep.
DODGE chuckles enigmatically. He leads SUSAN to a nearby lab area,
where DINO is rotating a GLASS-AND-CHROME SARCOPHAGUS, seven
feet long and REFRIGERATED, into an upright position.
SUSAN almost GASPS as the LID pops open. A hiss of FROSTY AIR
comes gushing out . . .
DR. ALEXANDER TROY climbs slowly out of the cryo-unit and stretches.
He's stiff and extremely cold. He's also STARK NAKED.
36 hours. How do you feel?
Frosty. Any dermal damage? How do I look?
You look smaller on TV.
TROY looks up, sees SUSAN, realizes he's at a social disadvantage.
DINO offers him a bathrobe. He pulls it on hurriedly . . .
We can usually talk him into wearing pants. -
Susan Landis? Alexander Troy.
Dr. Landis! Your great admirer. I'm glad you
could come on such short notice.
I had lots of help.
I hope the boys weren't too ... abrupt with
you. You see, we're on a very tight schedule -
I can see a lot of tax money at work. But I
still don't know what you're doing or why I'm here.
You're here because we need you.
The human race.
29. INT. LABORATORV~ DAY
SUSAN at a microscope, examining tissue and blood samples.
Yeah. That's it. This tissue's crawling with
At her side are TROY, DODGE, and another scientist in a lab coat -
WELDON STEWART, thirtyish, slightly pudgy, on the nerdy side.
The pink stuff. The vector. It appears to be
some kind of self-replicating organic machine
. . . all it does is reproduce and -
- and attack fetal DNA. Have you figured out
the coding yet? Do you know how it's programmed?
STEWART shrugs helplessly. SUSAN swivels around on the lab stool
and fixes the three men with her steeliest gaze.
Why don't we all just lay our cards on the
table, boys? I don't know where you got that
tissue sample I'm looking at . . . but I know
it's not human.
We should've gone public a year ago . . . we'd
be that much farther ahead . . .
We thought we had it contained. But there
was blood loss - from the wound -
Stop it! Just tell me. In English - !!
Susan, there's someone we'd like you to meet.
30. INT. OBSERVATION ROOM - DAY
GREEN LIGHT floods a sealed VACUUM CHAMBER , visible through a
wall of UNBREAKABLE GLASS. On the other side, suspended from a
tangle of wires, hangs the FROZEN CORPSE . . . of an ORANGUTAN.
In a spacesuit. A bloodstained spacesuit, with a neat round BULLET
HOLE in the abdominal area.
We picked him out of New York Harbor.
About fourteen months ago.
Where'd he come from?
Best guess right now is an earth-like planet
orbiting Alpha Centauri.
Poor guy. Traveled almost five light-years to
earth - and a 19-year-old coast guardsman
shot him on sight.
SUSAN'S gaze is riveted on the Orang. His eyes remain open even in
death. He seems to be looking right at her ... pleading.
So someone put a diseased lab animal in a
spacecraft - and shot it to earth?
The men exchange a look . . . CHUCKLE among themselves.
That's what we thought at first.
Then Dodge here started playing with the
The math was driving me crazy at first. We
count on our ten fingers - base ten. Well, this
baby was all programmed in base twenty.
. . .Fingers and toes.
Grins all around. The boys are warming up to SUSAN. They think alike.
That was no lab animal. That was the pilot.
3l. AERIAL POV SHOT - THE CRAHD CANYON - DAY
A POV SHOT from the cockpit of a supersonic, infinitely maneuverable
AIRCRAFT rocketing THROUGH THE GRAND CANYON. We SWOOP,
DIP, ARC RIGHT and LEFT, DO A BARREL ROLL - all at nauseating,
vertiginous speed, barely avoiding the sheer rock walls on either side!
Okay, I'm killing your left engine! You're
going into a tailspin!
DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!!
Suddenly we're SCREAMING DOWN toward the floor of the canyon!
32. INT. FLIGHT-SIMULATOR LAB - DAY
We're looking at a guy in a GYROSCOPIC SIMULATOR. He wears a
VIRTUAL-REALITY HELMET which gives him the aerial-landscape view
we've just seen. As he works the joystick, the HARNESS he's strapped
into PITCHES and YAWS just as an aircraft would. The simulator is
capable of 360-degree motion in all directions, so he's being swung
wards, forwards, upside down. It's like being in a milkshake machine.
He's a hell-raising hotshot of 26, and his name is CMDR. DAVID ASTOR.
VOICES call out from the floor below the simulator:
ASTOR shaves a sharp turn just a little too close. He lets out a
SCREAM. The gyroscopic harness JERKS, BUCKS, JITTERS . . . and
comes to a DEAD HALT.
ASTOR pulls off his VR helmet, cursing a blue streak.
Goddammit, Troy, you pinheaded needle-
dicked slide-rule sucking son of a mentally defective monkey, you just
made us crash on a alien goddam landscape!
Sorry! There's someone I want you to meet.
ASTOR unstraps himself, climbs down from the gyro unit. He takes one
look at SUSAN and turns on the oily charm.
Susan Landis? Cmdr. David Astor. Our pilot.
The gene queen! My pleasure. I thought you were coming in a couple of
My invitation was lost in the mail.
Let me apologize for anything my colleagues may say or do. They come
from a distant isle where beautiful women are
only a myth.
He bows formally, kisses her hand - like an over-the-top parody of
Astroboy was in the psychopathic ward.
The only way he could get out was to
volunteer for this mission.
. . What mission?
They haven't shown you yet? Follow me.
38. INT. HANGAR - DAY
METAL DOORS roll back. BLINDING SUNLIGHT pours in. Inside the
hangar, a FORTY-MAN GROUND CREW of mechanics is swarming
around an utterly staggering sight.
It's a STARSHIP - the same one we saw dredged out of New York Harbor.
It's no longer a charred, blackened mass; it's been restored to its
pristine, butterfly-winged glory. TECHNICIANS are even now buffing it
to a high sheen. It looks ready to lift off.
The boys can't help themselves. They break into big grins every time
they see it. And SUSAN does likewise.
Oh my God. - Does it fly?
C'mon. I'll let you sit in the captain's chair.
34. INT. SPACECRAFT - DAY
as they enter. The interior is divided into a number of cramped
compartment. The BRIDGE area has a large observation
port - and, beneath it, an instrument console which duplicates the one
in ASTOR's simulator.
SUSAN wanders around wide-eyed. She's actually standing inside
an artifact from another world.
I was hoping to reverse-engineer the drive -
learn to build one from scratch. But the
plague tightened up our schedule.
You mean . . . ?
It was programmed for a round-trip all along.
So as long as we've got our boarding pass . . .
We're gonna fly this sucker right back where it
As she moves from the bridge toward the rear compartments of the ship,
she sees a row of five chrome-and-glass SARCOPHAGI - just like the one
we saw TROY in.
Cryogenic tanks. So that's why you were
relaxing in the deep-freeze . . .
The trip's going to take six years. The ship's
not big enough for food and water, so -
Well need a good rest anyway.
The five SARCOPHAGI are all labelled with the names of their future
occupants. SUSAN traces along with one finger - until she gets to the
chrome coffin, which bears no name.
Troy. Stewart. Astor. Dodge . . .
One berth still open. Who's number five?
The others just stare at her. It takes her a good three seconds to get
picture. And off her shell shocked expression we
INT. INT. MEXICAN RESTAURANT - NIGHT
A six-piece Mexican marimba band supplies the soundtrack; a WAITER
brings a fresh pitcher of margaritas over to a table near the outdoor
patio, where we find TROY, DODGE, STEWART and ASTOR. There's a
fifth place setting - SUSAN's - but she's not in her chair.
STEWART, potted, is drawing Minkowski diagrams on cocktail napkins.
He's explaining relativity to ASTOR, an unreceptive student.
Now we accelerate for a year - travel at max
speed for four - and in the last year, we
decelerate. Of course, due to relativistic time
dilation, six years for us will be thirty-four on
earth. But if we send our findings back by
radio, there should still be a handful of fertile
pre-menopausal women . . .
A gorgeous COCKTAIL WAITRESS slinks past. ASTOR eyes her and
claps STEWAWT briskly on the shoulder . . .
Hold that thought, Stewart. I'm gonna get us a fresh batch of cocktail
He jumps up, dogging the WAITRESS's heels. TROY, meanwhile, is
anxiously scanning the restaurant.
What happened to Susan?
Ladies' room, I think -
That was ten minutes ago.
The two of them exchange a nervous look. TROY heads outdoors.
36. EXT. DESERT~ NIGHT
She's wandered down from the outdoor patio into the desert. She's out
among the cacti, wandering along a dry creek bed, staring at the stars.
TROY wanders up behind her.
. . . Need a little air?
I'm sorry. I was just listening to all of you talk
about the future ... and I got this awful,
clammy sense that the future was all used up.
Children are the future. Take them away, and
you take away hope.
A weird pronouncement, coming from TROY. She looks at him askance.
You have kids?
No. I did, but . . . no.
She waits for a further explanation. After a few seconds she realizes
there's not going to be one. TROY has some sort of emotional wound
that he doesn't want probed; she respects his wishes.
Why'd you pick on me, Troy? There are others
in my field that are at least as qualified. More
experienced . . .
It's not a flattering answer.
I'm past caring about politesse.
We had three candidates. You were the best -
and you had the least to lose.
She looks at him as if he's slapped her in the face.
The others had families. Obligations, ties . . .
reasons to stay behind.
I had a calico cat once. Till it died.
You have a sister in Florida. You've been
engaged twice; you broke it off both times.
You haven't had a date in seven months -
Well, Christ, I've been working, haven't I.
- which puts you in exactly the same category
as the rest of us. We've all had our lives
collapse around us. We get on with it. We do
Her mood softens a little.
I don't want the destiny of the race on my
shoulders, that's all.
(shaking her head)
They still line up outside the CDC. Pregnant
women, every day. They know there's nothing
we can do for them, but they show up anyway
-- just wanting to see us, or touch us, or -
Susan? If we stay here, we die. If we go there
- we find an answer, or we fail. But at least
we took that one tiny chance we had.
Which one's ours?
TROY turns her around - points tb the southwest corner of the sky. As
she searches for the tiny twinkling pinprick of Alpha Centauri, the
TILTS up - up - upward into the heavens . . . and we
37. EXT. OUTER SPACE - NIGHT
A BRILLIANT STARFIELD like the one we just left. And in fact we might
think we're still back in the New Mexico desert . . .
. . except for the BLACK SPACECRAFT~ that appears out of nowhere and
comes zooming right at us. The CAMERA WHlP PANS WITH IT as it
speeds beyond the ringed splendor of Saturn, vanishing into the icy
38. INT. SPACECRAFT - night
TIGHT ON THE INSTRUMENT CONSOLE at the front of the cockpit. Two
side-by-side CHRONOMETERS read:
SIDEREAL DATE: 11/19/01 21:07:17
EARTH DATE: 07/08/02 11:51:03
Needless to say, the SECOND chronometer is ticking off the minutes at a
visibly faster clip than the first.
We move back through the ghostly silence of the ship, past lab gear and
radio telescopes, to the PASSENGER COMPARTMENT - five frosted-over
SARCOPHAGI standing upright in a tow. We see the LABELS on each:
ASTOR. STEWART. DODGE. TROY...
And, last but not least, LANDIS.
39. EXT. OUTER SPACE - SERIES OF DISSOLVES - THE CRAFT
Past the solar system and well on its way to Alpha Centauri. The ship
is now at full velocity, and space-time is WARPING around it. The stars
look distended, almost liquid ... as if the universe had begun to MELT.
40. INT. SPACECRAFT - COCKPIT - NIGHT
Through the observation bay, THREE SUNS burn bright~y. We've
entered another solar system. The CHRONOMETERS read:
SIDEREAL TIME: 03/29/16 01:94:30
EARTH TIME: 06/21/33 12:02:56
Then: a sudden GRINDING NOISE as gears come to life. LIGHTS flick on
in the darkened craft; OXYGEN hisses through ventilation grates . . .
TROY's cryo-unit expels a little CLOUD OF CONDENSATlON as the seal
breaks. The chrome & glass lid retracts and he floats out, WEIGHTLESS.
He grabs an upright, takes a deep breath, and pulls himself down to the
floor so his VELCRO SHOES can take hold of the carpet.
Man, I've woken up with some ugly-ass
critters in my time, but this -
TROY looks up. ASTOR is floating HORIZONTIALLY two feet overhead.
Asshole. I'm even glad to see you.
ASTOR lets out a Texas whoop, REVELING in his own weightlessness.
He KICKS OFF on a bulkhead, launching himself toward the cockpit up
front. DODGE and SUSAN are floating out of their coffins as well . . .
Give me a bagel and a New York Times.
This gets a LAUGH out of the boys. SUSAN joins in. But then -
What the hell's that?
SMALL PURPLE GLOBULES the size of a poker chip art floating in the
air before her eyes. The men look around; they're all-over the cabin.
ate numerous bits of SHATTERED GLASS . . .
All eyes turn to the fifth coffin. The chrome half of the lid is still
But the glass is missing, except for a few ragged shards stuck in the
frame. It seems to have exploded outward ...
DODGE touches one of the purple poker chips.
They exchange nervous looks. SUSAN peers around a corner... and the
bloodless, bone-white corpse of STEWART floats out to greet her.
There's a big open GASH on the back of his left hand.
He must've cut his hand when the glass blew.
Near-vacuum conditions - his bloodstream
would've emptied out in a couple of seconds -
And it never coagulated. No oxygen. Till now.
Stunned silence - till ASTOR sticks his head in from the cockpit area.
Save it for later. Man your stations. Now!
He's our friend, Astor - he's dead -
He's probably been dead for a decade or two.
The rest of us are one hour to touchdown, and
we got us a way funky port stabilizer.
Meaning we're damn sure lucky we got a pilot on board.
41. EXT. OUTER SPACE - NIGHT
A HUGE, BLUE-GREEN PLANET looms before us as the spacecraft
hurtles toward its surface, dwindling down into the tiniest of specks.
42. SERIES OF SHOTS - THE DECENT
We break through the clouds into a bleak, beautiful, icy landscape of
CANYONS and MOUNTAJN RANGES. The ship swoops, dives, pitches as
ASTOR feels out the lay of the land . . .
43. INT. SPACECRAFT - NIGHT
Our four surviving spacefarers huddled around the observation port.
God damn. Come on. Gimme something flat!
(at the radar screen)
I'm showing a f]at basin - about six acres -
nine klicks west. That room enough for you?
Stand back and watch me work.
44. EXT. MOUNTAIN BASIN - ON SHIP - NIGHT
With VTOL rockets blazing the ship descends to the icy, snow-covered
plain below. MOUNTAINS surround it in all directions.
45. INT. CRAFT - NIGHT
A soft THUNK and they're down - the first humans to land on anothcr
planet. The momentousness of thc occasion doesn't escape them. For a
few moments they just sit there, staring at cach other, until . . .
Atmospheric readout says it's safe to breathe.
Better wear the excursion suits anyway. Well
need to keep warm.
46. EXT. MOUNTAIN BASIN - NIGHT
The hatch opens. Hydraulic stcps descend. Our rour spacefarers step
out of the craft and into their new environment.
There's snow and ice everywhere you ]ook. FOUR MOONS of various
sizes shine above. Low on the horizon hangs the tiny red orb of Proxima
Centauri, the smallest sun in this triple-star system. Because of the
planet's orbital angle, Proxima Centauri NEVER SETS. It burns like a
perpetual nightlight, bathing the landscape in a dim, dull neon glow.
The group communicates by means of RADIO MIKES in their helmets.
I guess somebody ought to take off his helmet.
LONG SILENCE. They exchange looks. No eager beavers in this group.
My mama always taught me ladies first.
SUSAN rises to the challenge. She twists TWO KNOBS on eithcr side of
her collar, breaking the airtight seal. Then she lifts her helmet off
TAKES A DEEP BREATH.
Two breaths. She LAUGHS. The others follow suit. Within moments
they're all breathing the rarefied air of a new world, and LAUGHING.
PULL BACK TO:
47. POV SHOT - FROM ROCKS - ON MOUNTAIN BASIN
Their LAUGHTER echoes in the distance. From this rocky perch high
above the basin we can see the whole tableau: the ship, its passengers
- and, as dawn breaks over the mountains, we can see something else as
well. The unmistakable silhouette of a crude stone-tipped SPEAR in the
foreground ... and clutching it, a HUMAN HAND.
48. EXT. MOUNTAIN BASIN - DAY
TROY and DODGE are a short distance uphill from the ship, standing
over a man-sized PILE OF ROCKS. DODGE pulls a tiny AMERICAN
FLAG from his pocket and PLANTS IT at the head of the grave. They
linger there a moment saying their silent farewells to STEWART.
ASTOR and SUSAN are unloading gear from the spaceship. In the glare
of the triple sun, the snow around thc ship's begun to turn slushy.
Whoa, little lady. Let me carry that for you.
Enough with the chivalry, okay? I'm not some delicate nower. Crazy as
it sounds, women can lift crates just iike men.
Landis - I happen to likt women. If it was up to me, we wouldte brought
And one man? - Who's the man?
By now, DODGE and TROY have come trudging down to join them. The two
scientists take seats on newly-unloaded CRATES.
Four women and Astroboy. It's macabre.
Well, like it or not, gentlemen, the four of us just may be humanity's
last chance to perpetuate itself as a species.
SUSAN is REELING from this line of discussion. Waving htr hands,
shaking her head in disbelief, she wanders back to
WHOA-A-A. Check, please!
49. POV SHOT - ON THE FOURSOME
Now we're watching them from the vantage of an UNSEEN OBSERVER moving
gradualy closer past icy boulders, around trees
. . .
Excuse me - boys - I just put the radio box over by this rock. - And
now it's gone.
NERVOUS LOOKS all around. They hear a BIRD CALL. From among the
boulders - awfully close. Then anothcr - as if
answering the first . . .
Let's get back in the ship.
No debate necessary. The four of them back cautiously toward the craft,
scanning the plain, the surrounding boulders.
50. INT. SPACECRAFT - A MOMENT LATER
The moment they're inside with the hatch closed, they hear a series of
metallic CLANGS against the outtr skin of the
Someone's throwing shit at us .. .
ASTOR's way ahead of him on that count. He ignites the VTOL rockets.
51. EXT. PLAIN - ON SPACECRAFT
Several ROCKS and a crude SPEAR bounce off the ship. We pan down to the
ROCKETS blasting fue onto the snowy plain . .
We hear a strange CREAKING noise - and then, without warning, a great
big FISSURE opens up under the spacecraft.
52. INT. CRAFT - THAT MOMENT
Suddenly the craft PITCHES SIDEWAYS. Everyone in it is THROWN TO THE
FLOOR. TROY drags himself up to the console -
stares out the viewport at GREAT SLABS OF ICE breaking up beneath them
Jesus Christ. We're on a lake!!!
53. EXT. PLAIN - ON SPACECRAFT - THAT MOMENT
The ship's at a 45-degree angle and SLIDlNG RAPIDLY into the icy
waters. The hatch blows; ASTOR and DODGE dive out and
tumble across the ice to safety. SUSAN's next -
- but when she hits the ice, it GIVES WAY BENEATH HER! TROY sees her
disappearing into the freezing water -
- and without hesitation, DIVES IN AFTER HER!
54. UNDERWATER SHOT - BENEATH THE ICE
She's sinking like a stone. He grabs her, tries to swim to the surface,
but CAN'T - she's too heavy. Another thirty
seconds and they're goners.
The SHIP continues to slide into the water. TROY drags SUSAN laterally
to the ship ... catches hold of the open hatch,
and manages to PULL THEM BOTH along the exterior of the hull, toward
sunlight . . .
55. EXT. LAKE - A MOMENT LATER
They break the surface, GASPING. TROY lifts SUSAN out and they flop on
the ice, exhausted and hypothennic, TEETH
CHATTERING from the cold. Their suits are full of water. Another minute
or two out here on the floe, and their suits
will be full of ICE instead.
Sh-should've . . . sh-should've let me . . .
You're the most important cargo wete got.
Suits full of water - we'll freeze if we -
A SPEAR whizzes between their faces and MBEDS ITSELF in the ice.
They look around. DODGE and ASTOR have been taken captive by a HUNTlNG
PARTY - two dozen SHAGGY, FUR-CLAD STONE AGE
55. INT. CAVE - DAY
In the deepest pocket of a labyrinthine CAVE DWELLING we find our four
heroes seated around a fire. DODGE and ASTOR
are still wearing their excursion suits, but TROY and SUSAN are bundled
up in borrowed animal furs.
They're being guarded by a tight circle of WOMEN and OLD MEN. The women
chew hides, the geezers chip flint tools. A
CHILD paws at the odd fabric of ASTOR's suit; ASTOR slaps back, makes a
facc at him.
The CHILD breaks into wild, hyena-like laughter. His mother grunts and
whacks him sharply upside the head.
Hey, Troy:, I forgct. Which one oi these guys was the spaceship
Look. They're human. That doesn't make them the dominant species.
They're obviously dominating us.
A bunch of women, Medicare patients - hell. Why wait? We can take 'em
SUSAN's been staring off into the distance through all this.
The men are down at the mouth of the cave, Astor. They're having a
Probably deciding whether to worship us, or eat us.
With a nice chi-ant-i.
Listen. There's a crate of rifles down by the lake If we can get to 'em
- if just one of us can get to 'em . . .
DODGE pulls out his pipe and LIGHTS IT with a Zippo. The TRIBESMEN
GASP, awed and fascinated at the sight of the tiny
He holds it out for an old MAN to TOUCH. The old man lets out a YELP,
and DODGE quickly snaps the lighter SHUT. Almost
at once, THREE OF THEIR GUARDIANS clamber off over the rocks to bring
this shocking news to the tribal leaders. TROY
LAUGHS . . .
That settles it. We're gods.
Hey, I'm the god. You three can be my little elves.
The TRIBAL LEADERS come hunying into the rear cavern. DODGE rises
boldly to his feet, holds up the lighter and
demonstates its use.
The TRIBESMEN gasp in unison. They start to move in toward the flame -
but the merest gesture from DODGE sends them
back, cringing ...
Man. You got this god shit down.
The TRIBESMEN chatter and grunt excitedly among themselves. But then,
abruptly, they FREEZE - going absolutely silent.
Our four captives stare at one another in confusion. A deathly HUSH in
the cave . . .
Then they hear it.
Distant musical notes - the sound of a HUNTER'S HORN signalling the
start of the chase -
- and suddeniy the TRIBESPEOPLE are RUNNING OFF in all directions, some
toward the back of the cave, some toward the
front. Five seconds later TROY and the gang are standing there alone
57. INT. CAVE - NEAR MOUTH - POV TROY
There's a huge CAMPFIRE blazing in the large vault at the mouth of the
cave, and the TRlBE is running around it in a
shrieking panic. Some leap out of the cave; others crawl into cramped
nooks and crannies. The HORN sounds again -
accompanied by a throbbing, warlike DRUMBEAT.
TROY and SUSAN emerge, spot the cave entrance just past the campfire -
and find themselves staring out at an
HOVERlNG just outside the mouth of the cave is a WHIRLYBIRD. And seated
in it, aiming what looks like a BAZOOKA
directly at us . . .
.. . is a GORILLA in full military dress!
He fires. A canister of TEAR GAS rattles across the cave floor. An
instant later, everyone's choking on NOXIOUS GREEN
58. EXT CAVE MOUTH - THAT MOMENT
A BlLLOWING GREEN CLOUD pours out of the cave - and with it, MEN,
WOMEN, and CHILDREN, who dive out GASPlNG onto tht
steep, rocky slopes below. The cave mouth is flanked by gas-masked
GORILLAS with guns and prods. One of them yank's on
a CABLE . . .
... and a HUGE NET springs up to snare the humans as they come tumbling
head-over-heels fiom the mouth of the cave!
59. INT. CAVE - DEEP TUNNEL - THAT MOMENT
In the swirling gas it's aimost impossible to see. DODGE has fallen in
with a batch of tribesmen who are tacing DEEPER
into the cave.
They're clambering up a craggy wall toward an AIRHOLE - just big enough
to crawl through. SCREAMS and WAILlNG as the
tribespeople climb OVER one another in their panic to get out.
DODGE stares up at the airhole. It's as if someone's standing outside,
opening and closing a TRAP DOOR, letting one
human out at a time . . .
60. EXT. AIRHOLE - ON THE SLOPES - THAT MOMENT
Outside, we can see that TWO GORILLAS are holding a wooden PLANK in
place over the AIRHOLE.
On command from their comrade, they lift the plank for a couple of
seconds. A HUMAN climbs out and bolts off at a
sprint - until GORlLLA I, who's posted a short ways off, takes aim with
his rifle and FIRES.
Skeet shooting ... with humans.
61. INT. CAVE - TUNNEL - A MOMENT LATER
DODGE at the airhole. The plank opens. Two grinning GORILLAS stare down
at him. Horrified, he leaps back down over the
mass of bodies. The others continue lemming-like toward their fates as
he races deeper into the cave, looking for
57. INT. CAVE MOUTH - A MOMENT LATER
The rifle-toting, gas-masked APE GUARDS on either side of the cave
entrance. The one on the left leans around to have
a peek inside;and the red-hot end of a BIG FLAMING LOG, freshly plucked
from the campfire, slams squarely into his
gut. Dropping his rifle with a shriek, he LOSES HIS FOOTING and goes
bouncing off among the rocks.
TROY steps out of the cave and heaves his blazing louisville slugger
down the side of the cliffs. The SECOND APE GUARD
calls out through
the thick greenish smoke ...
APE GUARD II
Cletus! What was that??
APE GUARD II climbs down from his perch to investigate. He starts to
cut across the cave mouth, but the instant he
steps onto the ledge - ASTORS HAND closes around his collar - and sends
him slamming to the cave floor! The last thing
this ape ever sees is SUSAN, poised above him with a big nasty BOULDER,
about to PULVERIZE his SKULL.
Grabbing the dead ape's rifle, ASTOR and SUSAN hook up with TROY on the
rocks above the cave. As they scan the
landscape they can see that they're in the midst of a truly massive
FLEETS of TRUCKS and all-terrain vehicles down below ... a veritable
ARMY of gorillas and chimpanzees. And in the
skies, FOUR MORE HELICOPrERS, FUMIGATlNG all the nearby caves with tear
We've got to go up. It's the only way -
ASTOR hands him the rifle, claps him on the shoulder -
Sorry, I'm heading for that crate of rifles. Meet you back here on New
63. EXT. SNOWY SLOPE - THAT MOMENT
HUMANS scrambling down a big open expanse of perfect powder. TWO APES
IN SNOWMOBILES appear over the crest of the
hill; a NET stretches between the two vehicles, effortlessly SCOOPING
UP HUMANS as the Skidoos whiz past.
64. EXT. ROCKY DEFILE - THAT MOMENT
APES ON SKIS converge from several directions, FIRING PISTOLS into the
air. They're HERDING a group of frightened
humans down through a series of PROGRESSNELY SMALLER OPENINGS in the
An APE swings an AXE - severing a SUPPORT ROPE. The snowy ground
beneath the humans' feet suddenly DROPS AWAY, and they plunge headlong
into a PITFALL - conveniently lined with
netting for easy removal of the day's catch.
65. EXT. ROCKS ABOVE FROZEN LAKE - THAT MOMENT
MORE HUMANS making their way downhill - including ASTOR, who sticks out
like a sore thumb in his spacesuit. A
TRIBESMAN collides with him from behind, knocking him off his feet.
He gets up cursing - then hears a metallic SNAP arid a howl of PAIN.
The TRIBESMAN is writhing, leg caught in a STEEL
BEAR TRAP - as ASTOR surely would've been if he'd kept to the same
He reaches the campsite and the CRATE OF RIFLES. RIPS OFF THE LID.
Reaches down - and feels a BEE STlNG on his neck.
It's a TRANQUILIZING DART. He barely has time to yank it out before he
topples to the ground in a heap. An APE in sun
goggles skis up to thd site, stops on a dimc. He gapes in puzzlement at
ASTOR's odd garb, at the crate of rifles. He
reaches into his designer parka and pulls out a CELLULAR PHONE.
66. EXT. HIGH GROUND - THAT MOMENT
TROY and SUSAN keeping low to the ground, working their way from one
hiding place to the next, with GUNSHOTS echoing
all around them.
They take cover amid a cluster of BOULDERS to do some quick recon. If
they can make it across a big flat expanse of
snow, they might be able to hide out in the rocky cliffs beyond.
Unfortunately, APES ON SKIDOOS are crisscrossing the
plain, PICKING OFF stray humans . . .
TROY If we could grab one of those things . . .
An ENGINE guns behind them. SUSAN peers around the boulder:
Look out. Thert's one coming up behind us.
TROY braces himself against the boulder. At the last instant he swings
his RIFLE up into the approaching snowmobile's
path. WHAM! - the Skidoo keeps going, but the GORILLA stays behind.
TROY and SUSAN race toward the abandoned vehicle and climb aboard. As
they take off across the snows, a WHlRLYBIRD
swoops into view . . .
67. INT. WHIRLYBIRD - MOVING - THAT MOMENT
An APE PILOT and an APE GUNNER staring down in SHEER GLEE at the sight
of two humans piloting a SNOWMOBILE.
Get a load of this. They're making a getaway!
Human see, human do!
Chortling, they PEPPER the ground below with MACHINE-GUN FIRE.
The engine of the hijacked Skidoo takes a hit. It begins to trail OILY
SMOKE as TROY frantically ZIGZAGS among the
rocks to evade fire.
68. EXT. SLOPES - ON SKIDOO - MOVING
TROY and SUSAN GLIDING over the crest of a hill. Their eyes widen in
unison. They SLAM ON THE BRAKES - SKID KARD LEFT
- and stop mere feet away from the edge of a PRECIPICE. They're trapped
on the brink of a YASWNING CHASM, a thousand
feet deep . . .
A SECOND WHIRLYBIRD rises up from the canyon, no more than twenty feet
in front of them, and BLANKETS THE SNOWMOBILE
in a thick shroud of KNOCKOUT GAS.
FADE THROUGH TO:
69. EXT. ROAD - ON TRANSPORT - MOVING - DAY
An OVERHEAD VIEW of a TRANSPORT TRUCK driving down a frozen, muddy
mountain trail. The back of it's outfitted as a big
open CAGE, and it's full of HUMAN BODIES. Dead? Unconscious? Hard to
Atop the stack of bodies is ASTOR - still in his excursion suit. He
wakes up - reacts in horrar and disgust to the
animal stench all around him.
70. EXT. OUTDOOR HOLDING PEN - DAY
Bare, muddy ground. SUSAN is sprawled there, a couple of feet away from
TROY - who's moaning softly, right on the
verge of coming around.
ASTORS VOICE [o.s.]
TROY sits up slowly, aching all over. He sees the TRANSPORT TRUCK
rumbling past, with ASTOR in the back.
TROY tries to answer, but breaks out into a fit of violent COUGHlNG the
after-effect of the gas attack.
71. EXT. ROAD - ON TRUCK - THAT MOMENT
The chimp driver, MARCELLUS, looks nervously back over his shoulder and
slams on the brakes. He climbs out of the open
cab and peers into the CAGE - looking for an ape stowed away among the
Who said that? Who's in there?
Hey. Open this thing up. Let me out of here.
MARCELLUS makes no reply - except for a SQUEAK OF SHOCK. He JUMPS BACK
as ASTOR rattles the bars.
Yeah, you, monkey boy. Let me out! Who the hell's in charge around
MARCELLUS fires a TASER WEAPON - what the apes call a "stinger" - at
ASTOR. The human jerks, twitches, and topples
Colonel Ursus!! Colonel Ursus!!
A burly, uniformed GORlLLA marches over to MARCELLUS' truck.
TROY turns - and faces ZAlUS with a gaze of harrowing intensity.
You didn't know?? My Grodd, Troy - you're going to be a father!!
ZAIUS' LAUGHTER BURNS in TROY's ears as we
173. INT. ZIRA'S APPARTMENT - LATER - NIGHT
TROY in his evening clothes, ZIRA in a bathtobe; he's woken her up.
So he's got Cornelius?
Cornelius. And Susan. And my . . .
He can't even bring himself to finish the sentence. The pain on his
face moves ZIRA. She takes his hand.
It's different for you, isn't it. On our world human males don't take
part in child-rearing. They don't even have the
concept of paternity.
Not so different. Not so different at all.
He chuckles to himself, softly, bitterly. She gives him a quizzical
look . . .
My boy was thirteen. His mothter and I had divorced. it was his weekend
with me - only we had a big launch we had to
move up, and
Anyway, he should have been with me. But instead he went on a rafting
trip with the neighbors, and . . . he should've
been with me.
And now . . . after all this time . . . you've got something to lose
I'm going to bring them back, Zira. I'll bring them back - if I have to
rip this world apart to do it.
Impulsively she KISSES him. He blinks in disbelief.
I like you humans. You tough little bastards.
174. INT. HELICOPTER - MOVING - DAY
ZAIUS and an ORANG PILOT flying over the Forbidden Zone. In the
distance, they see a MAMMOTH FLYNG CRAFT, black and
moth-winged, executing acrial maneuvers over the mountains. Tht black
craft screams off at ungodly speed - vanishes to
a speck on the horizon - and returns just as quickly before settling to
the ground a mile or two away.
An excitcd ZAIUS chucks his PILOT pn thc shoulder . . .
There it is. The Mercy Ship!
174. EXT. LANDING PAD - DAY
It's only now, seeing ZAIUS's puny copter landing beside it, that we
can appreciate the massive scale of the Mercy
Ship - it could blot out half a football field. By the time ZAIUS
deplanes, a forty-man crew of ORANGS is already
clambering all over the great ship, checking it out . . .
How's it coming? We're hoping to launch from the Royal Pavilion - on a
holiday, if possible.
First of the month, your Lordship. The original plans were still in the
ZAIUS climbs into the gondola of a MONORAIL - which transports him up
and over the snowy rocks to his top-secret
destination . . .
160. EXT. INSTlTUTE OF SCIENCE - DAY
A big official building. NEWS TEAMS are massed on the steps outside.
NEWS APE I
I'm outside the Institute of Scienct, where Alexander Troy, the
talkirrg human, has been undergoing a battery of
isolation tests. Early word is that Troy has passed with flying colors
- he is for real - and in fact I'm hearing that
in certain areas, such as aeronautics, his knowledge may even surpass
TROY emerges triumphantly from the building, with ZIRA and a
multispecies group of APE SClENTISTS in support. TROY
WAVES to the cheering CROWDS and is immediately besieged by NEWS APES.
NEWS APE I
Dr. Troy! Has your story been verified?
NEWS APE II
Have you signed a book deal yet?
NEWS APE III
Do you plan to give up your circus act?
I'll be holding a press conference tomorrow at ten. I thank you all for
your kindness, but I'm very tired . . . and a
long way from home.
The crowd mobs him as he makes his way to a waiting taxi. He's gone
from zoo attraction to national hero in record
161. MONTAGE SEQUENCE - TROY AS A CELEBRITY
TV NEWS BROADCASTS intercut with personal appearances by TROY:
* An opera house; Rigoletto, with apes. The curtain comes down, then
rises again for the assembled cast to take a bow.
A SPOTLlGHT SHINES on the ROYAL BOX, where a tuxedoed TROY is snoring
Lightly at ZIRA's side. She gives him a sharp
elbow to the ribs; he stands, smiles, and takes a discrtet bow. The
crowd goes wild.
* A TV NEWSCASTER, with the oversized face of TROY smiling from the
bluescreen over his shoulder:
176. INT. OLYMPOUS BASE - ESTABLISHING - DAY
An enormous PLEXlGLASS DOME caps a SHAE~T almost half a mile wide.
A hundred feet below the dome, literally DUG OUT of the surrounding
glacial mountain, lies the ancient CITY OF
This is the last surviving vestige of the human civilization that died
out Millenia ago. STATUARY of Greco-Roman
design - nobly-proportioned HUMANS in athletic poses - dot the
landscape, often half-buried by dirt or ice. The
architectute might have servtd as a model for our carth~y ancients as
well - but where they used stone, these humans
built their forums, artnas, and coliseums out of metal and glass. The
wholc tffect of the place is disturbingly
anachronistic . . .
ZAIUS takes it all in from a transparcnt ELEVATOR POD that lowers him
from the dome to ground level. The usual coterie
of hangers-on waits down below, ready to escort him into the deeper
warrens of the city.
177. INT. LEARNING CENTER - DAY
A futuristic LIBRARY: two levels of individual carrels ringing a
central open atrium, each niche outfitted with
computers and electronic gear.
There's an ORANG at every desk - ranging in age from sixteen to sixty.
As ZAIUS and co. pass through, we see one ORANG
studying a 3-D wireframe AlRPLANE DESlGN on his computer screen;
* . . . anather wearing headphones, conducting an invisible orchestra;
* . . . a THIRD watching a video screen, taking copious notes on
Laurence Oliviet in Henry V;
* . . . a FOURTH watching The Brady Bunch, scribbling notes just as
furiously as his colleagut.
178. INT. DETENTION CELL - DAY
A dank chamber without much sunlight. CORNELIUS - in leg irons, his
thigh wound infected and festering - hears the
FOOD SLOT in the door rattling, and hobbles over. He lifts out his tin
It's covered with fat, chittering, crawly BUGS. He drops the plate,
peers through the slot - and sees ZAIUS chuckling
179. INT. MEDIA CHAMBER - DAY
A towering WALL OF VIDEO - 144 screens, in a 12x12 grid, each of them
picking up a transmission from a different
source. Local news broadcasts, simian soap operas and sitcoms . . .
. . . and fmaily, a string of transmissions from EARTH. It's this
latter group that interests SUSAN, who's sitting
glumly in one of a row of plush chairs. There's a complicated bank of
REMOTE CONTROLS on the console at her left - and
the other three walls of the room are lined, floor to ceillng, with
neatly catalogued VIDEOS, DVDS, AUDIOTAPES, etc.
As her gaze moves from one screen to the next, she brings up the
appropriate AUDIO CHANNEL. We focus in on individual
screens with her - FIRST, aerial footage of a taging FIRE churning
black smoke into the skies over Los Angeles.
The famous walled enclave of Beverly Hills went up in names today when
a thermite bomb detonated in the sewer system.
A rival neighborhood took credit for the attack ...
Two screens over: a WAR CORRESPONDENT, speaking rapidly in a Middle
Eastern dialect, as SHELLS screech past overhead.
Behind him, TROOPS nee from advancing TANKS which threaten to crush
them beneath their treads. Befort our eyes, an
incoming missile hits the WAR CORRESPONDENT's trench - but before the
screen goes blinding white, the CAMERA pans over
just enough to show us the EIFFEL TOWER.
Just past that, we find the President, ducking terrorist bullets at an
Oval Office press conference. AND: armed riot
cops rousting homeless squatters in what used to be an elementary
school, back when there were still kids. AND: Dick
Van Dyke, still bickering with Mary Sler Moore three decades into the
21st Ccntury . . .
Human society is disintegrating, bit by bit, before SUSAN's glassy,
helpless gaze. Just then, a jolly ZAIUS bursts
into the room . . .
Personally I go for the cultural fare. Bravo, A&E, PBS - don't like the
pledge breaks, though - and of course, MTV.
Doing the twist, he grabs a remote and pulls in MTV - a 2lst-century
music video by - "The Militiamen" - so steeped in
violence, nudity, and general decadence it would make the most
dedicated metalhead blush.
We all get the urge to boogie down. And the news is just too
depressing, don't you agree?
SUSAN hits a master switch, kills the entire bank of TV's. The lights
come on automatically. When she stands up, we
can set that het LEGS are manacled together. TWO ORANG GUARDS, who've
been waiting in the darkness behind her, fasten
a leash around her neck.
What you're seeing is five yeats old, of course. it takes that long for
the transmissions to reach us from earth. -
Things are certainly much worse try now.
180. INT. OLYMPUS BASE - CORRlDOR - A MOMENT LATER
MORE HUMAN STATUARY on either side of us - and, on the walls
themselves, CHANGING HOLOGRAPHIC ARTWORK depicting what
could be a rustic Tuscan landscape.
Automated SERVO-ROBOTS, tentacled boxes on wheels, roll about
perfonning routine maintenance, polishing everything to
a high sheen.
Human nature, I suppose. Not happy unless you're destroying yourselves.
Look at the bunch that built this place.
Masters of the universe, every technological marvel you could ask for,
and what happens?
(a grandiose shrug)
Some asshole in a lab cooks up a plague, and PHHFFT! Ta-ta, au revoir,
hasta la vista. - I do hope they fired his
If it wasn't for him, you'd be peeling bananas in a tree.
181. INT. BOILAB - A MOMENT LATER - DAY
SUSAN's new lab is a pristine dream, full of futuristic gadgetry - far
advanced over anything we've seen. On the
downside, her EXPERIMENTAL HUMANS - the ones who survived the attack on
the colony - are being kept in a row of tiny,
cramped CAGES along one wall. They kick
up a fuss at SUSAN's entry; ZAIUS fixes her leash to a long lead.
Is there anything you need for your lab work?
I'd like to know why you're letting me do it.
Call me a nice guy. Call me . . . humanitarian.
Troy attacked me the other night, you know. I told him we had you, and
he backed off. But he was still thinking -
still trying to work out some sort of angle.
She stares at him for a long moment. He chuckles engagingly.
But when I tald him about the baby, I crushed him. I could see it in
his face. He was absolutely broken . . . like a
wild animal when it finally realizes you've tamed it.
You can't crush Troy, Zaius. You'd better kill him, because you'll
never crush him.
He strokes her belly. Gently, but with an unmistakable hint of menace.
Well discuss it again when the time comes. Is there anything you need
in the meantime?
One of my animals is sick. She may be contagious. I'd like her taken
back to Zira . . .
In a nearby cage is lOCASTA - the human child we know as JOSIE.
I'll tell the guards. They'll take her out and destroy her -
Let me explain it. Half of my test cultures are based on that child's
blood. I want her taken care of and I want her
Tough talk for a woman on a leash. But ZAIUS decides to humor her.
Fine. I'll take her with me in the imperial jet. Fresh linen. Free
And I have a letter. I'd like you to ste that Alexander gets it.
She hands it over. He slips it in his pocket and BOWS.
182. INT. CORRIDOR - OUTSIDE LAB - A MOMENT LATER
As he leaves, ZAIUS instructs the two GUARDS posted outside the door:
The female child - she'll show you the one. And I want her thoroughly
searched. All the obvious cavities. Understood?
The GUARDS nod and step inside. As ZAIUS marches off down the hall, he
takes SUSAN's letter from his pocket and opens
it - begins to read then breaks into GALES OF HEARTY LAUGHTER.
183. INT. LAB - ON SUSAN
Behind her, the Orang GUARDS arc loading JOSIE's cage onto a wheeled
cart. As she listens to the echo of ZAIUS'
laughter in the halls, a strange, bitter, vengeful look crosses her
face . . . and OVER this we HEAR:
"My Dearest Troy . . . The days are long here, and I have nothing to do
but work and think of you. Sometimes I can
almost feel your touch - heat your voice - and the memory of our time
together is all that keeps me sane."
184. ARIAL SHOT - DAY - ON ZAIUS' JET
fying over the frozen rocky wastelands of the Forbidden Zone.
"I realize now well never see earth again. My only hope is that I can
save our baby - that you'll be at my side to see
him born, and that the two of us will have the chance to watch him graw
185. INT. JET - CARGO HOLD - DAY
JOSIE cowering in hcr cage, watching luggage sLidt back and forth.
"The girl is one of my experimental subjects. She has a nasty - virus
which I hope Zira can cure. Her name is Josie
and she likes to play horsie. I know you do too . . .
186. INT. ZRI LABS - DAY
JOSIE'S CAGE Open in the b.g. ZIRA has the edgety child strapped to an
examination table and is laoking her over as
TROY frowns at the letter:
I love you, Troy. Yours always . . . Susan.
She's never called me Troy.
Does seem rather formal. The two of you have reproduced.
And what's this about me playing 'horsie'?
I assumed that was something private - you know - between a man and a
Well, there's nothing wrong with the child. Common head cold. It'll be
gone in two days.
ZIRA unstraps JOSIE and lets her run around the infirmary while TROY
shakes his head in puzziement. Then it hits him .
Oh. Jesus. She sent a horse to Tray.
- beg your pardon?
It's an ancient story, Zira. The Trojan horse! The Greek army couldn't
get past the walls of Troy . . .
So they built a giant horse. Left it outside the city as a peace
offering - a gift. And when the Trojans rolled it
inside their gates, the Greek army burst out of its belly and killed
Well. it's a repulsive story, all right, but I don't see what it has to
do with -
She's the horse, Zira! The little girl is a Trojan Horse!
Talk sense, damn it! You can't put an army of killers inside a little
Yes you can.
He grins fiendishly. She finally realizes what he's talking about.
TROY scoops the flailing JOSlE up into his arms as ZIRA runs to fetch a
Hold still, darling, itll onfy hurt a bit -
ZIRA jabs the syringe into JOSIE's backside, and as it fills with blood
we CUT TO:
187. INT. CATHEDRAL - DAY
TIGHT ON a bejewelled silver CHALICE full of RED WINE. A chimpanzee
ALTAR BOY carries it on an ornate TRAY to the
Orang HIGH PRIEST -
- who mutters a few words of blessing over it, then conveys it to the
robed ORANG ELDERS, so that each in turn can
take a sip . . .
In the congregation, just behind the Orang pews at the front of the
chimp section, we frnd TROY and ZIRA - both taking
an unusual interest in the communion ritual. ZIRA's fidgeting like
wild, about to jump out of her seat, trying to look
anywhere but at the altar.
TROY, however, is staring directly at ZAIUS - the ]ast of the' elders
to take his sip. The two of them make eye
contact; ZAIUS raises the chalice almost imperceptibly - a jaunty
private toast. TROY smiles back.
The ethereal choir music dies down, and the PRIEST takes his pulpit.
Many of you have noticed that we welcome today a most unusual guest -
unusual in that he is a human, and in that, if
the stories are true, he comes from a distant world.
All eyes are on TROY - some ape parents are even hoiding up their
toddlers so the kids can get a look at him. He nods
his head humbly.
Some have called him a living rebuke to the holy dogma of simian
divinity. Nothing could be further from the truth.
This talklng man has been sent among us as a test of our devotion, and
a call to action . . .
The old boy goes into a vicious HACKING FIT - so violent he has to turn
away from the: pulpit. One of the ELDERS
rushes to his side and pours him a glass of water. He gestures that
he's okay . . .
Where was I - call to action - a call to spread Grodd's message of love
and mercy to all the many worlds of the
More COUGHING and GAGGING, even worse than before. This time the HIGH
PRIEST makes a real show of it - leaning on his
staff, bringing up sputum, STAGGERING IN CIRCLES before he finauv hits
WORRTED MURMURS among the congregation as the ELDERS cluster around the
PRIEST. Someone signals the ORGANIST to strike
up a tune.
TROY glances at ZIRA, but she won't return his gaze. She's staring
guiltily at her shoes.
188. INT. PRIEST'S CHAMBERS - DAY
The HIGH PRIEST is sprawled on a sofa, covered by a stack of blankets,
coughing so hard he's convusing. The ROYAL
PHYSIClAN can barely keep him still long enough to shoot him full of
What the hell is wrong with him?
The ROYAL PHYSICLAN shakes his head - not a clue. Meanwhile, the other
ELDERS are beginning to hack and quiver as well
. . .
My head's splitting! I must be feverish.
Are you sure it's a good idea for us to be in here - in the room with -
with His Holiness?
ZAIUS has lost his voice. He coughs up phlegm into a handkerchief. An
Orang in MILITARY GARB peeks in -
Lord Zaius, I've just had word from Olympus. There's some kind of
epidemic . . . it's swept through the entire
(a violent cough)
Gtt me the human. Get me Troy!
I'm already here. Care to invite me in?
ALL EYES TURN to TROY - who's standing in the doorway.
(indicating the PRIEST)
What do you know about this??
Heli be dead in forty-eight hours. The rest of you are young and
strong. You might last an extra day or two.
The animal! He poisoned the sacrament!
Free lesson, your Holiness. Never underestimate an animal when he's
(to the group)
You'll take me to Susan. We'll transmit her research to earth. Those
are my demands.
Demands? From a human? The gall!
The water supply is next.
Of course he's bluffing! He'd never threaten the lives of his friends -
all those innocent chimps and gorillas who
admire him so -
But Zaius, it doesn't affect chimps or gorillas. No more than it
affected the little girl you brought me.
ZAIUS realizes he's been played. His CRONIES al] glower at him.
. . . It only affects the profaundly stupid.
Losing it altogether, ZAIUS takes a swing at TROY. TROY grabs his hand
in midair and shoves him backward.
Send word to Olympus. Have the woman shot. Immediately. In the belly
The Conclusion: on Wednesday
Then you don't want the antidote?
The sickly ELDERS perk up in unison. ZAIUS is immediately overruled.
SHOCK CUT TO:
189. AERIAL SHOT - ON PRIVATE JET - ESTABLISHING
The imperial plane penetrating into the heart of the Forbidden Zone.
190. INT. PLANE - COCKPIT - THAT MOMENT
A GORILLA PlLOT and TROY, who's speaking into the radio.
It's Troy, baby. We're coming to get you. Now listen carefully. Do
exactly what I tell you.
In the rear cabin we find ZIRA, JOSIE, and a collection of bundled-up
shuddering ORANGS. The HIGH PRIEST is on a
stretcher, IV in his arm. TROY returns, and takes his seat beside ZIRA
- who whispers:
Is there an antidote?
TROY grins and shrugs - beats me.
191. INT. OLYMPUS BASE - DAY
ZIRA's EXPERIMENTAL HUMANS - adults and childrcn alike - are romping
about in the ruined landscape under the dome,
enjoying their new fretdom, frolicking among the columns and statues.
191. INT. OLYMPUS BASE - CORIDOR - DAY
A couple of SICK ORANG GUARDS are slumped on the floor, half-dead,
Janitorial SERVO-ROBOTS cheerfully tidy up around
CORNELIUS limps into the corridor. He leans the guards' WEAPONS up
carefully against the wal], then begins DRAGGING
the guards themselves by the feet, dawn the spotless hallway to:
193. INT. OLYMPUS BASE - INFIRMARY - DAY
DYING ORANGS EVERYWHERE. The beds are full. The folding cots are full.
Any more patients, and the floor will be full.
As CORNELIUS drags the new arrival inside, SUSAN moves from one sick
orang to another, administering SHOTS from a
That stuff really work?
They should come around. We won't be here long enough to find out.
194. EXT. OLYMPUS BASE - LANDING FIELD - DAY
CORNELIUS is waiting on the airfield when the imperial jet iands. He's
got a big stack of ordnance waiting on the
tarmac - stolen from inside.
TROY emerges from the plane, followed by ZIRA and JOSIE, then ZAIUS and
the delegation of hacking, feverish ORANG
ELDERS. CORNELIUS tosses him a rifle from the pile as ZlRA rushes to
Susan's on her way out. She's rounding up the humans from the colony.
For Grodd's sake, can we get inside? freezing out here.
Go on in if you want. We're staying out here.
TROY gestures toward the massive MERCY SHIP. The orangs noticc that the
BOARDING STAIRWAY is already open and ready
The Mercy Ship? You're taking the Mercy Ship? Why, we built that ship
at a cost of-
You built nothing. Humans designed that ship. Humans engineered it -
like everything else in this place. All you did
was steal it!
TWhy, Cornelius. You sound bitter.
Susan was right, Zira. There was a race of humans here. And they built
a technological paradise . . . which the orangs
have spent the last ten thousand years plundering!
Go warm up the engines . . .
Hold it, Troy. You don't think we're going to let you go without the
ZAlUS nudges the GORILLA PILOT forward. He's got a gun too. But
CORNELIUS turns and points to a nearby snowy peak . .
See that red flag up there? That's where you'll find it. It's a 45-
minute hike in good weather.
45-minute hikd!? How do we know what we'll find up there? It could be
an empty crate!
Did you bring the sample like I asked?
CORNELIUS tosses TROY a small corked VlAL full of yellow fluid.
There's only enough for one. It takes a while to kick in, but if you
don't mind waiting . . .
I suppose we should give it to His Holiness.
Are you joking??
ZAIUS grabs at the vial. Laughing, TROY casually pitches it into a
SNOWBANK ten or fifteen yards away. The ELDERS dive
at the drift,trampling each other in their efforts to get there first.
ELDER I barks at the GORILLA PILOT:
What are you looking at?!? Get up there and find that crate!!
The GORILLA trudges off as the Orangs resume their rugby scrum. MOTORS
begin to grind overhead; the MONORAIL which
runs uphill from the airfield to the dome has started, and the gondolas
are in motion.
That must be Susan. Rev up the ship.
Over at the snowdrift, ZAIUS comes up with the vial. Concealing it in
his paw so the others won't see, he pops off the
cork and downs its contents. Then he pulls a FOUNTAIN PEN from his
pocket - uncaps it to reveal a flashing RED LIGHT
and a tiny MICROPHONE . . .
195. EXT. DOME - MONORAIL PLATFORM - THAT MOMENT
SUSAN slams the door on a gondola full of FRlGHTENED HUMANS, and sends
it off on the long ride down to the airfield.
She herds the last batch aboard car #2, then climbs on herself. . .
196. INT. GONDOLA #1 - MOVING
The humans in gondoia #1 are petrified as they ride down - the adults
more so than the childnn. They take one look at
the ground a hundred feet below and SHRIEK. Most of them cower on the
floor of the gondola. And ONE brave soul, who's
standing up . . .
. . . gets himself KILLED - by a sudden burst of MACHINE-GUN FIRE.
197. INT. GONDOLA #2 - MOVING
The gunfire seems to be all around them, PINGING off the metal sides of
the gondola, making it ROCK laterally. SUSAN
can't tell where it's coming from. She pulls her human companions down,
out of the range of fire, and then ventures a
quick look, poking her head up . . .
She can't believe what she sees.
The skies are: full of FLYING GORlLLAS . . . at least a dozen of them,
wearing JET-PACKS strapped to their backs! The
packs come equipped with stabilizer wings which make the gorillas look
like a nightmare vision from everyone's
childhood . . . the winged monkeys of Oz!
SUSAN DUCKS just in time as a flying ape fires a burst at the gondola.
198. EXT. AIRFIELD - THAT MOMENT
Down below, TROY is equally agog. He picks up a rifle, begins FlRING at
tht flying apes. In three tries he manages to
pick one off; the gorilla goes flying in a wild spiral, trailing SMOKE
as he hits the snow.
Way off in the distance, he sees a couple of TERRIFlED HUMANS in the
first gondola DIVING OUT. They plunge a hundred
feet to their doom . . .
ZlRA reappears on the stairway of the Mercy ship.
TROY! WHAT'S HAPPENING?!?
Take cover. Start shooting!!
He tosses her a gun from the pile - then picks out three of the biggest
he can find for himself. An empty gondola
swings down, makes the turnaround, and starts back uphill toward the
dome. TROY jumps aboard and starts the ascent,
ZIRA takes cover beneath the giant mothwing of the Mercy Ship and
begins SNIPINO at inroming gorillas. Meanwhile, over
at the snowdrift, the ELDERS spot an opportunity.
ZIRA's occupied. Which means there's no one watching the PlLE OF GUNS
on the tarmac - no one but six-year-old JOSIE.
Gesturing silently to one another, they sneak up toward the rifles . .
. . . and stop in their tracks. J0SIE, unattended, has plucked an
automatic rifle from tht pile. She sits cross-legged
on the tarmac to play with the bolt. She glances over at ZIRA to see
how you work these things . . .
The Orangs hesitate. Smile. Wave nicely at the little girl. One bold
ELDER wanders up closer, gestures for J0SIE to
hand over her gun.
J0SIE frowns. Mine! She squints at ZIRA one last time . . .
. . . and OPENS FIRE, MOWING DOWN TWO OF THE ELDERS IN THEIR TRACKS!
The gun jerks and bucks in her grip. JOSIE LAUGHS
IN RIOTOUS GLEE and FIRES AGAIN!
The second burst leaves only ZAIUS standing. He dives behind a rock . .
199. INT. GONDOLA #3 - ON TROY
Jumping up, ducking down, SHOOTING AT GORILLAS who shoot back. He picks
off two more flying gorillas. But it's not
enough - the cavalry is about to arrive. TWO ARMORED COPTERS appear on
A ROCKET whizzes past the gondola - explodes in the snow a half-mile
away. A SECOND ROCKET goes off near one of the
giant PYLONS which support the monorail. The PYLON buckles - but holds
TROY's at the midpoint of the uphill ride. A few yards away, SUSAN's
gondola passes him on the descent. They have just
enough time to make eye contact before they have to duck down again.
COPTER FIRE strikes the pulley assembly from which TROY's gondola
hangs. BOLTS POP. The gondola ROCKS - TILTS -
One end drops. It's obviously about to go. TROY shaves his RIFLE over
the MONORAIL CABLE - grabs the other end with
his free hand - and JUMPS. Hanging on for dear life, he SL~DES DOWN THE
CABLE until he reaches the empty gondola
BEHIND HIM. He drops inside . . .
200. EXT. AIRFIELD - THAT MOMENT
The COPTERS closing in. A ROCKET zips past and detonates near the Mercy
ship, the force of it knocking ZIRA into the
snow. As she's getting up, she hears the roar of TURBINE ENGINES behind
her . . .
ZAIUS's IMPERIAL JET is screaming down the runway - TAKING OFF!!
201. INT. IMPERIAL JET - THAT MOMENT
The jet lifts off. The HIGH PRlEST smams from the passengcr cabin . . .
WHAT IS THIS? WHERE ARE WE GOING?
In the cockpit we find not ZAIUS, but CORNELIUS - teeth clenched, fists
wrapped around the throttle. An ARMORED COPTER
is visible through the canopy - hovering over the dome, DEAD AHEAD.
Straight to hell . . . Your Holiness.
201. ON COPTER - ABOVE THE DOME
The jet rams smack into it. ~ A THUNDEROUS EXPLOSION . . .
201. INT. OLYMPOUS BASE - THAT MOMENT
. . . sends the flaming wreckage of BOTH CRAFTS CRASHING through the
great overhead dome - down the shaft - into the
nrins of the ancient city! More explosions follow; the walls of the
shaft begin to quake and crumble; SNOW and ICE
come toppling in from above . . .
204. EXT. TROY'S GONDOLA - THAT MOMENT
The car ROCKS. The good news is, the plane collision took out a couple
of flying gorillas with it. The bad news is,
there's still one copter to go . . . and the monorail has STOPPED DEAD.
TROY's a SITTING DUCK.
He peers over the edge - sees the other gondolas STALLED OUT down the
slope. They're not far from the airstrip - but
they're still thirty or forty feet above the ground, too high to jump
The COPTER makes another pass. A ROCKET hits a PYLON . . .
This time the pylon doesn't hold. It BUCKLES. The monorail CABLE slips
a pulley and GOES SLACK. The floor of the
gondola drops out from under TROY - then the car STABILIZES, dangling
at a weird angle . . .
205. INT. SUSAN'S GONDOLA #2 - THAT MOMENT
Same deal. HUMANS scream around her as the gondola falls, then stops -
falls, then stops again. The're hanging on for
dear life. But, as the pylon buckles and the cable slips, they're
getting closer to the ground.
Another LURCH leaves them fifteen or twenty feet up. That's good cnough
for SUSAN. She GRABS a rouple of her
companions by the scruff of the neck and PLUNGES over the side of the
gondola . . .
. . . landing in a SNOWDRIFT, shaken but intact. She grabs her METAL
CASE and herds the other HUMANS downslope, toward
206. INT. TROY'S GONDOLA - THAT MOMENT
He's just hanging there, a hundred feet up, waiting to drop. GUNSHOTS
ping off the gondola He jumps up to return fire
- and can't. No ammo.
The rifle's useless. He drops it to the floor af the car - where he
spies a LONGSHOREMANS HOOK, used to guide the
gondola when it stops to let passengers off. He grabs the hook,
flattens himself against a wall.
A BOLD GORILLA comes flying up. He knows TROY's out of bullets, and
he's planning to take him out at point-blank
Until the HOOK swings up and PLANTS itself in his leg.
The GORILLA SHRIEKS as TROY reels him in - simultaneously LEAPING from
the gondola and WRAPPING HIS ARMS around the
ape's waist. The jet-pack's not designed to carry this much weight . .
. . . and the two of them SPIRAL WILDLY thtough the air, looping the
loop, twisting and turning as they grapple . . .
They hit the snow with TROY on top, the GORILLA underneath - like a big
hairy snowboard. Jets still fuing, they
toboggan downhill. Then the APE slams into a rock - head first - and
TROY goes flying . . .
207. EXT. AIRFIELD - THAT MOMENT
Amid machine fire from the COPTER, TROY sprints aboatd the Mercy ship.
The hydraulic stairway retracts behind him.
208. INT. CRAFT - A MOMENT LATER
He bursts onto the bridge - finds SUSAN, ZIRA, J0SIE and the surviving
HUMANS strapped in and ready to go.
We're programmed the takeoff ...
Then let's blow this pop stand. - Hi!
He grins at her. She grins back, The ship begins to LIFT OFF, g-forces
SLAMMING the passengers back in their seats . .
. . . but by the time they gain a couple of hundred feet in altitude,
the remaining ARMORED COPTER sweeps past in
front of thtm, FIRING ANOTHER ROCKET. The rocket explodes just BENEATH
them . . .
209. INT. SHIP - BRIDGE - THAT MOMENT
The ship is ROCKING, losing altitude fast.
VTOL rockets disabled.
NERVOUS LOOKS among all the passengers.
Auto-rtpair sequence commencing.
HOPEFUL LOOKS among all the passengers.
Estimated complction time: sixtecn days.
DESPERATE LOOKS among all the passengers. The ship is sinking toward
the crest of a mountain ridge - only seconds
until impact. TROY scans the horizon despetately.
Troy? What exactly does this mean?
It means I sure wish we had a pilot on board this thing.
Cliffside dead ahead. TROY hits the rearjets full blast -
210. EXT. MOUNTAINS - DAY - ANGLE ON SHIP
Sinkng. It clears the peaks by inches. The VTOL engines continue to
smoke. COPTERS and FLYNG APES are closing in from
211. INT. SHIP - THAT MOMENT
Here on the far side of the peaks they're dropping toward a great huge
BOWL of unobstructed snow - PERFECT POWDER.
TROY gets an idea:
Strap in. It's going to be a bumpy ride.
He kills the sputtering VTOL and fires the aft jets full throttle. The
ship's bridge JITTERS from the impact as . . .
212. EXT. SLOPE - ON SHIP
The craft slams into the snow! FLAMES SPIT from the aft jets - and the
ship picks up speed until it's SCREAMING down
the steep, snowy slope like a gatgantuan TOBOGGAN.
213. INT. SHIP - THAT MOMENT
ZIRA stares out the observation window, petrified with horror.
Aren't we going down - ?
Isn't that a -
The "it" ZIRA means is the END of the slope, which looms a couple of
kilometers ahead. Beyond it, there's NOTHlNG - a
sudden drop into a deep, craggy CANYON. TROY gives it the gas . . .
214. EXT. SLOPE - ON THE CRAFT
FLYING GORILLAS watch as the ship roars toward the abyss. But there's
an UPTURN just at the edge of the slope - and
when they hit it, TROY fires the jets FULL BLAST, using the mountain as
a gigantic SKI JUMP!!
It works. The ship roars upward into the sky - SPLATTERING the flying
apes like bugs on a windshield as it acceleratts
into the stratosphere.
215. EXT. AERIAL SHOT - ON SHIP
From the edge of outer space we watch as the ship HURTLES UPWARD TOWARD
US, leaving the Planet of the Apes behind.
216. INT. BRIDGE - FIVE MINUTES LATER
Space looms ahead. The passengers are finally starting to relax . . .
Now we've got six years to kill.
Could be worse. On earth it's thirty-four.
I knew you'd get us out of there.
You gave me the tools to do it. You and Cornelius . . .
He glances at ZIRA, who smiles wanly and fights back a tear.
Now TROY unstraps himself from his console chair. He floats up toward
the roof of the bridge, WEIGHTLESS . . .
SUSAN unstraps too. Floats up toward him. The two of them go into a
tight, zero-~avity embrace, rolling around in
midair, kissing, laughing.
Then: a SHRIEK. JOSIE's just unstrapped too - and she's BUGGING OUT.
Everyone laughs - except ZIRA, who's watching the
Troy, something's wrong with our oxygen supply. The auxiliary tank is
breached . . .
Make that two auxiliary tanks . . .
217. INT. SHIP - ENGINE ROOMS - A MINUTE LATER
TROY scooting weightlessly thtough the ship, pulling himself along
horizontally by whatever handholds he can find.
When he arrives at the engine room, he gets a downright nasty surprise
. . .
LORD ZAIUS is disabling the oxygen tanks one by one!
Sweetheart. Did you miss me?
TROY BRACES BOTH FEET against a bulkhead and LAUNCHES himself at ZAIUS.
They COLLIDE - tumbling UPWARD toward the
ZAlUS hits first. Braces himself. Below him, TROY rears back to throw
another punch - but when he connects the FORCE
of his own blow sends him hurtling back toward the floor! ZAIUS laughs
. . .
As Newton said - for every action . . .
He PUSHES OFF from the ceiling - lands with BOTH FEET against TROY's
throat - and BOUNCES OFF toward a nearby hatch!
218. INT. HYDROPONICS CHAMBER - THAT MOMENT
ENOUGH VEGETATlON to feed an army is growing here in the artificially
lit hydroponics tanks. TROY bursts in, chasing
- but ZAIUS is BEHIND HIM, hanging upside down OVER THE DOOR. He KICKS
TROY into one of the tanks, which SHATTERS -
spilling water globules and clumps seaweed UPWARD into the air ...
Careful! People are starving in China!
Then don't play with your food!
TROY grabs a shard of jagged glass and launches himself UPWARD at ZAIUS
- who sidesteps him, SOMERSAULTING through the
219. INT. AIRLOCK - A MOMENT LATER
TROY FOLLOWS. The hatch door hisses ominously shut behind him. in a
glass closet he sees a handful of EXCURSlON SUITS
- and realizts that ZAIUS has lured him into an AIRLOCK. There's
another hatch on the far side of the room, and beyond
it lies THE VACUUM OF SPACE.
Vaya con dios, amigo . . .
ZAIUS has wrapped bimself up in MESH WEBBING strung against one wall.
Hanging on tight, he hits a switch - the SPACE
- and in the INSTANT before the air explodes outward from the airlock,
TROY leaps up and GRABS onto the mesh webbing.
He's stitl got the shard of glass in his hand; he SLASHES WILDLY at the
- which POPS FREE from its mounting on the airlock wall -
- and sends TROY and ZAIUS, ENTWINED, tumbling out into the void!
220. EXT. SPACE - OUTSIDE SHIP
As they spiral away, a corner of the webbing SNAGS in the airlock door.
It's their only lifeline to the ship. But now
they're in TOTAL VACUUM - and as studies tell us, a human can sunrive
for no more that two minutes in a vacuum.
GASPING, they shout imprecations at one another. No words Come out.
There's no sound in space.
ZAIUS wrestles with TROY, trying to break his hold on the mesh. But
TROY has a sudden last-ditch inspiration - a
flashback to STEWART, his colleague, who died on the voyage out . . .
In SLO-MO, his FINGERNAILS rake across ZAIUS's face, tearing away
STRIPS of SlMlAN FLESH -
It's like Vesuvius erupting. With a soundless SCREAM, ZAIUS TAKES OFF,
ROCKETING AWAY FROM THE SHlP like a punctured
balloon as every last drop of blood in his body spews out, GUSHER-LIKE,
into the vacuum of space!
The orang lord cartwheels off into the void. By now TROY is beginning
to drift away from the ship, and in a few
seconds the vacuum will claim him as well. In the instant before he
loses consciousness . . .
. . . a WHITE-SUITED ARM wraps itself around his throat. TROY looks up
at the face behind the visor - a chimp's face.
It's ZIRA, beautiful ZIRA, in an excursion suit, umbilically connected
to the ship - dragging him back to the safety
of the airlock.
The last thing TROY sees, before the airlock hisses shut, is the eerily
beautiful sight of ZAIUSS BLOOD hanging in the
blackness before him . . . a thousand tiny globules catching the light
of the triple suns like a vast, endless swarm
of purple fireflies.
FADE THROUGH TO:
221. INT. SPACECRAFT - BRIDGE - NIGHT
TROY, bearded and showing some gray at the temples, sits at the pilot's
console speaking into a mike. The sun - our
sun - is visible through the viewport, the size of a bright yellow
. . . and that's our story . . . the same one I've broadcast twice a
week for seven years now. With the shipboard
computers, my wife devised a mutagen to counteract the plague . . .
I'll send the necessary data immediately following
He inserts a DATA DISK into a slot, hits a button. The rings of Saturn
are coming into view outside as he reaches for
the mike again.
I only hope there's someone left to receive it. This is Dr. Alexander
Tray, aboard the ship Bellerophon . . . signing
CHILDS VOlCE [o.s.]
TROY turns. A SIX-YEAR-OLD BOY bursts into the cabin and FLINGS HIMSELF
into TROY's lap. He's waving a crayoned
Look, Daddy, I drew you a picture. Earth!
It's a comically suburban Earth - identical boxy houses with picket
fences. One discordant note: the TREES all have
It's beautiful. But I should warn you - the trees on earth have green
leaves, not purple.
That's what Mom said. I like purple ones. Are we there yet?
Almost. Almost. Another week or so.
Now SUSAN wanders in. She wraps an arm around TROY's waist while JACK
spins around in the swiveling PlLOTS CONSOLE.
Still no rtsponse?
No ... we're almost at Saturn. The broadcast would take about ninety
minutes to reach us.
(staring at their son)
I wonder what kind of world we're taking him to.
All at once the SPEAKERS begin to CRACKLE. Their eyes turn . . .
VOICE ON SPEAKER
Calling Bellerophon . . . calling Bellerophon. This is Dr. James Adkins
of the SETI Institute in New York . . .
They let out a whoop of joy and collapse into one another's arms.
VOICE ON SPEAKER
Transmission received. The mutagen is a success. Repeat, the mutagen
Now the two of them are WEEPING in relief. Drawn by the voice on the
speakers, another group of passcngers comes
sprinting bnathlessly into the bridge - ZIRA and the gifted HUMAN
CHILDREN, now adolescents.
VOICE ON SPEAKER
Send yout coordinates so we can lock on. A hero's welcome awaits you!
JOSIE and company are frantically signing to ZIRA . . .
It's a message. From the place we told you about, Earth. The planet of
The HUMANS leap and chatter in excitement. TROY and SUSAN, meanwhile,
are standing at center cabin in a TIGHT EMBRACE,
KISSING. They may never come up for air. Their LITTLE BOY dances around
them, tugging on their pants legs, trying to
muscle in on the action . . .
As they stare out the observation port, faces full of new hope and
anticipation, we see the CHRONOMETER on the
EARTH DATE: 09/17/2073
222. EXT. OUTER SPACE - ON SPACECRAFT
HURTLING toward the blue sphere of earth.
223. INT. SPACECRAFT - BRIDGE - NIGHT
TROY, SUSAN, JACK and ZIRA strapped into their console chairs, staring
out through the viewport. At first, they see
nothing but fleecy white CLOUDS. But then, as they descend, the clouds
PART . . .
. . . revealing a spectacular MANHATTAN SKYLINE, all lit up.
There it is, honey! That's New York!
See all the tall things down below;' Those are the buildings, where the
people live and work.
VOICE ON SPEAKER
Bellerophon. . . we have you on visual.
Bellerophon to airstrip. We're on course. We should touch down in about
The ship whizzes over the harbor, past a familiar, iconic figure . . .
There! The Statue of Liberty!
Now we know what they felt like, huh - The immigrants coming into the
harbor . . .
She clasps his hand. The two of them BEAM at each other.
224. EXT. AIRSTRIP - NIGHT
The ship appears on the horizon, SLOWINO ovethead as it shifts into
VTOL mode. We're watching from behind a chain-link
FENCE at the far end of the airstrip, as the GROUND CREW in their full-
body jumpsuits swarm about pteparing for the
spactship's dcscent. LANDING LlGHTS bracket either side of the runway.
225. EXT. AIRSTRIP - ON DECENDING SHIP - A MOMENT LATER
The big ship touches down gently - a perfect landing. After a moment, a
hatch pops, and a big hydraulic STAIRWAY
lowers to the tarmac.
TROY's the fist one out. The LIGHTS from the tower and the runway are
so bright he's practically blinded. But he can
still make out the HUGE CROWDS OF SPECTATORS on the other side of the
chain-link fences that border the airstrip. And
even if he couldn't, he can HEAR the excitement - the laughter, the
Squinting, he raises his arms in a gesture of triumph. The crowd ROARS
- and another ROAR greets each new spacefarer
who descends the stair. SUSAN, with JACK in her arms; JOSIE; ZIRA . . .
FLASHBULBS pop in the distance. A number of spectators seem to be
trying to climb OVER the chain-link fence. And it
strikes TROY that the crowd noise is beginning to take on an odd,
almost savage tone . . .
OFFICIAL VEHlCLES come driving across the tarmac, waved on by the
GROUND CREW with their illuminated batons.
Disturbingly, all the members of the ground crew share an odd, hunched
By the time the VEHICLES arrive, and TROY can make out the faces of the
passengers, he understands why everything has struck him as subtly wrong.
And they have guns. The blood drains from TROY's face as he pulls his
family into a protective embrace. Now FIELD
LIGHTS flash on, and he can see the SPECTATORS on the other side of the
fence . . .
ALL APES. Jumping, chattering, squealing for blood!
As ARMED APES surround the landing party, a GORILLA in a general's
uniform climbs out of a Jeep and strolls over.
Baring his huge white incisors, he extends a hand to TROY . . .
Dr. Troy. Welcome home.
SUSAN lets out a horrible SHRIEK, which echoes over the airfield as we
pull up and away - echoes until it's drowned out by the guttural grunts
of a thousand onlooking APES.
226. EXT. NEW YORK HARBOR - DAY
And the CAMERA continues to rise - up, up, past the skyline of
Manhattan to the HARBOR, where it all began.
And here again we find our old friend the STATUE OF LIBERTY, standing
watch on her island pedestal. Only this time, we're not speeding past
from behind. We're staring her full in the face.
And time has not been kind to Miss Liberty. in the years since we last
saw her, she's undergone radical plastic surgery. For, as we can now
see, her once-proud porcelain features have been crudely chiseled
into the grotesque likeness of a great grinning APE.