PASSENGERS by Jon Spaihts May 1, 2013 FADE IN:

EXT. INTERSTELLAR SPACE
    A million suns shine in the dark. A STARSHIP cuts through the night: a gleaming white cruiser. Galleries of windows. Flying decks and observation domes. On the hull: EXCELSIOR - A Homestead Company Starship. The ship flashes through a nebula. Space-dust sparkles as it whips over the hull, betraying the ship's dizzying speed. The nebula boils in the ship's wake. The Excelsior rockets on, spotless and beautiful as a daydream.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - GRAND CONCOURSE
    A wide plaza. A lofty atrium cuts through seven decks, creating tiers of promenades framing a vast skylight. Outside the skylight, only stars. Deep space. The promenades are empty. Chairs unoccupied. Beetle-like robots vacuum the carpets and wax the floors. CAFETERIA Super-modern and gleaming. Hundreds of tables, all empty. FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK Lounge furniture and star-filled windows. Completely deserted. A robot on spindly legs washes the glass.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - HIBERNATION BAY
    Endless rows of vertical glass tubes. Inside each tube stands a PASSENGER. Eyes closed in sleep. If they're breathing you can't tell by looking. They sleep on their feet, leaning against padded supports. Straps secure them in place; sensors adhere to their skin. They wear shorts and tank tops with Homestead Company logos. We drift down a row, surveying faces. No children, no elders. Men and women of all races in the prime of their lives. We settle on JIM PRESTON, 38. A display on his pod reads:
    JAMES PRESTON
    Rate 2 Mechanical Engineer Denver, Colorado
    A deep BOOM. Echoes roll down the corridors. The starship SHUDDERS. The wires trailing from Jim's sensors tremble and lie still. Lights wink on in Jim's hibernation pod. Machinery hums to life. Instruments beep and chitter. Medical data fills the pod's screen. Jim's temperature rises. His heart begins to beat. He takes a breath. Jim opens his eyes. Groggy, blinking, seeing nothing. The backrest behind him converts into a recliner, lowering him into a seated position. The sensors on his skin drop off and snake back into the pod's machinery. A HOLOGRAPHIC DISPLAY appears before Jim's eyes, filling the space in front of him. The Homestead Company's logo shines at him. The Homestead Company's theme music plays. IN HOLOGRAM - A gorgeous stewardess appears, smiling sensually. She is inhumanly perfect: computer-generated.
    VIDEO STEWARDESS
    Good Morning, James!
    JIM
    (disoriented)
    Jim. What the...
    VIDEO STEWARDESS
    It's normal to feel confused, Jim. You've just spent a hundred and twenty years in suspended animation.
    She makes it sound sexy. Jim scowls and rubs his eyes. ONSCREEN - An animation. Happy people go to sleep in glass tubes in a hospital. The tubes are loaded onto a spaceship.
    VIDEO STEWARDESS
    You're a passenger on the Starship Excelsior - a Homestead Company Starship. We've nearly completed the 120-year flight from Earth to your new home - the colony world of Homestead II. Congratulations!
    ONSCREEN - The Excelsior leaves a skyscraper-covered Earth and soars through space to a lush green Homestead II.
    JIM
    Oh. Yeah.
    VIDEO STEWARDESS
    The Excelsior is on final approach.
    (sensually)
    For the next two months you'll enjoy luxury space travel. Food. Fun. New friends.
    ONSCREEN - The ship's lavish amenities: fine dining, sports facilities, shops, all swarming with happy passengers.
    VIDEO STEWARDESS
    Then you'll start your new life on Homestead II. Back to basics. A fresh start. Room to grow.
    ONSCREEN - Publicity shots of Homestead II. Mountains, forests, beaches. Settlements ringed by farmland.
    VIDEO STEWARDESS
    Your wake-up capsules and nutrient juice will help you recover from hibernation!
    Pills rattle into a dish; a glass of pink juice appears. He takes his pills and gulps his juice with a grimace. A slot disgorges a Homestead Company bathrobe and slippers.
    VIDEO STEWARDESS
    Make yourself comfortable in your complimentary robe and slippers.
    He puts them on.
    VIDEO STEWARDESS
    Your shipcard is your key to the starship.
    (flirtatiously)
    Don't lose it!
    The pod produces Jim's shipcard: a plastic ID card on a lanyard. He hangs it around his neck.
    VIDEO STEWARDESS
    Now you're ready to go to your cabin. Make yourself at home! Enjoy the rest of your voyage, Jim!
    JIM
    Right.
    Jim steps out of his pod. All the other pods are closed, the people inside asleep.
    VIDEO STEWARDESS
    Your cabin is this way.
    The holographic stewardess points down the corridor.
    VIDEO STEWARDESS
    Take Elevator D to deck seven. Your cabin number is on your shipcard.
    JIM
    Thanks.
    He shuffles down the corridor in his slippers, rubbing his face. Having trouble keeping his eyes open. Behind him, his pod closes up. Its screen reads PASSENGER DISCHARGED. CORRIDOR A corridor lined with doors. A CLEANING ROBOT vacuums. Jim emerges from an elevator. Instantly the corridor lights brighten. The cleaning robot rolls past Jim.
    CLEANING ROBOT
    Hello, Passenger.
    JIM
    (startled)
    Hello, robot.
    Jim follows wall markings to his cabin. Lets himself in. JIM'S CABIN Cozy but small. A bed, a desk, an armchair. No window. A SCREEN lights up. The Homestead Company theme music plays. An ANNOUNCER speaks.
    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    Welcome to your cabin, Jim! Your home until we make landfall.
    Jim doesn't pay attention. Pokes around, opening drawers.
    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    Over the next two months, you'll prepare for your new life on Homestead II.
    Jim peers into the tiny bathroom. There's a little video screen, and the presentation's running there too.
    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    Passengers are organized into Learning Groups for orientation. You've been assigned to Learning group...thirty-eight! Don't forget!
    The DOORBELL rings. Jim opens the door eagerly - and deflates. No one there. He looks down. A waist-high CARGO ROBOT peers up at him with goggle eyes. It carries two suitcases and a duffel bag.
    CARGO ROBOT
    Passenger James Preston?
    JIM
    Jim. Yeah.
    CARGO ROBOT
    Your luggage, Passenger Jim. Swipe your shipcard to confirm.
    Jim swipes his shipcard through a slot on top of the robot. The robot scoots inside and deposits Jim's bags on the floor.
    CARGO ROBOT
    Enjoy your luggage!
    JIM
    Thanks.
    CARGO ROBOT
    Thank you, Passenger Jim!
    The robot zips out the door. Jim looks up and down the corridor. The receding robot is the only sign of life. CONCOURSE A mall with tiled floors and ornate storefronts. Jim walks along in jeans and a T-shirt. Storefront signs flicker to life as he passes. A dry fountain gushes water. CONFERENCE ROOM Forty chairs around a large table. Jim walks in. The door slides closed behind him. A HOLOGRAPHIC INSTRUCTOR appears on a large screen at the head of the table: a handsome woman of middle age.
    INSTRUCTOR
    Hello, Passengers. Will you all please take a seat.
    Jim looks around. He's the only one there. He sits.
    INSTRUCTOR
    Earth is a prosperous planet. The cradle of civilization. But for many, it's also overpopulated. Over-priced. Overrated. Overrun.
    A holographic cityscape rises out of the conference table: the endless metropolis of Earth, glittering with traffic.
    JIM
    Can I just...
    INSTRUCTOR
    Hold your questions until the end, please.
    JIM
    Wait. Where are all the...
    The holographic image transforms into a stunning green landscape of mountains, beaches, forests.
    INSTRUCTOR
    The Colonies offer an alternative. A better way of life. And there's no colony more beautiful than Homestead II: the Jewel of the Occupied Worlds.
    JIM
    (shouting)
    Where is everybody?
    The Instructor pauses, jolted from her oratory. The question seems to confuse her. She recovers with a warm smile.
    INSTRUCTOR
    We're all on the Starship Excelsior. Five thousand passengers and fifty- eight crew members.
    JIM
    But I'm the only one awake.
    INSTRUCTOR
    No, all the passengers wake up at the same time.
    JIM
    So why am I alone?
    INSTRUCTOR
    You're not alone. We're all in this together.
    Jim stares at the holographic Instructor suspiciously.
    JIM
    How many people are in this room?
    A crackle of static runs over the Instructor.
    INSTRUCTOR
    (dazzling smile)
    Sorry. I don't understand your question.
    But Jim is gone. His empty swivel chair spins in his wake. GRAND CONCOURSE A vast space: tiled walkways, polished floors, cunning arrangements of cafe tables and cozy conversation pits. Jim walks across the Concourse, eyes searching. Stops. He sees a smooth chrome kiosk. Holographic text hangs in the air above it: INFOMAT - Ask me a question!
    JIM
    Hey.
    The holographic text bursts into a flock of colorful question marks. An insanely cheerful voice speaks.
    INFOMAT
    Hello! What's your question?
    JIM
    I need to talk to a person. A real live person.
    INFOMAT
    What sort of person? Personal trainer? Travel planner? Therapist?
    A stylized cartoon accompanies each option.
    JIM
    Someone in charge.
    INFOMAT
    The Ship Steward handles passenger affairs. You can find him in his office on the Service Deck.
    A holographic map of the starship appears. A dotted line shows the way to the Ship Steward's Office.
    JIM
    Thank you.
    INFOMAT
    Happy to help!
    CORRIDOR A businesslike hallway lined with doors. Jim finds a door marked SHIP STEWARD. SHIP STEWARD'S OFFICE The lights flash on as Jim enters, revealing...an office in mothballs. Empty chairs, barren desks.
    JIM
    Not good.
    GRAND CONCOURSE Another Infomat. Jim arrives at a jog. Slaps the kiosk.
    INFOMAT
    Hello! What's your quest...
    JIM
    Who's flying the ship?
    INFOMAT
    The bridge crew includes the Captain, the Pilot, the Chief Navigator...
    IN HOLOGRAM: An image of each officer appears in turn.
    JIM
    The Captain. I want to talk to the Captain.
    INFOMAT
    The Captain rarely handles passenger queries directly.
    JIM
    Emergency, okay? Where is he?
    INFOMAT
    The Captain is usually found on the Bridge, on the Command Deck.
    A helpful map shows the way. COMMAND DECK Jim finds the door to the Bridge. He opens it eagerly - only to find a second door behind it - an armored hatch labeled FIREWALL and SECURE ACCESS AREA. A porthole of thick glass gives a narrow view of the Bridge. It's deserted. Instrument lights gleam in the dark.
    JIM
    (pounding on the hatch)
    Come on! What the hell?!
    GRAND CONCOURSE Jim runs past restaurants, lounges, shops. All deserted.
    JIM
    Hello? Hello!
    GRAND CONCOURSE - CELESTIAL PROMENADE The highest promenade on the ship: windows on all sides. The huge skylight just overhead. It's almost like being outside. The atrium plunges seven stories to the Concourse below.
    JIM
    (an echoing shout)
    Hello!
    A SOUND behind him makes him spin. But it's just a window- washer: a robot with long spindly limbs, polishing windows. GRAND CONCOURSE - OBSERVATORY ENTRANCE Jim disappears into a doorway marked "OBSERVATORY - Your Place In the Universe." OBSERVATORY A seamless hologram offers an idealized representation of deep space. Jim walks in, his footfalls muted. He seems to hang in the void. Overcome with wonder.
    JIM
    Hello?
    OBSERVATORY
    (a voice as deep as God's)
    What can I show you?
    JIM
    We're supposed to land soon, but I'm the only one awake. Is that normal?
    OBSERVATORY
    I don't understand. What can I show you?
    JIM
    Show me Homestead II.
    The stars wheel and zoom around Jim, until a blue-green Earthlike planet hovers in front of him.
    OBSERVATORY
    Homestead II is the fourth planet in the Bhakti system.
    JIM
    Right. And where are we?
    A golden thread stretches away from Homestead II, across the universe...to another blue green world: Earth. Jim walks along the golden thread until he finds the Starship Excelsior: much closer to Earth than to Homestead II.
    OBSERVATORY
    We are in transit from Earth to Homestead II. We will arrive in approximately ninety years.
    JIM
    What?
    OBSERVATORY
    We land on Homestead II in ninety years, three weeks, and one day.
    JIM
    No. How long ago did we leave Earth?
    OBSERVATORY
    Approximately thirty years ago.
    Jim stares at the hologram in horrified realization.
    JIM
    I woke up too soon.
    OBSERVATORY
    I don't understand.
    JIM
    Neither do I.
    HIBERNATION BAY Jim sprints down a row of hibernation pods. Heart pounding. Slides to a stop in front of his empty pod. Jim fusses with the controls, pressing buttons. But the screen just reads "PASSENGER DISCHARGED." Crouching, he pulls at the pod's canopy. It doesn't budge.
    JIM
    I'm supposed to be in there!
    GRAND CONCOURSE - INFOMAT Jim stands at another Infomat.
    JIM
    How do I make a phone call?
    INFOMAT
    Your cabin telephone...
    JIM
    No. How do I send a message to Earth?
    INFOMAT
    Interstellar messages are sent by laser array. Speak to the Duty Officer in the Comm Center.
    IN HOLOGRAM: The Infomat displays a helpful map.
    INFOMAT
    Please note that interstellar messaging is an expensive service.
    JIM
    Bite me.
    INFOMAT
    Happy to help!
    GRAND CONCOURSE - COMMUNICATIONS CENTER Two communications booths for passenger use. Jim sits at one of these. Swipes his shipcard.
    COMMUNICATIONS BOOTH
    Planet and connection?
    JIM
    Earth. The Homestead Company.
    COMMUNICATIONS BOOTH
    There are thirty thousand, eight hundred twenty-six phone numbers listed under "Homestead Company." What number?
    JIM
    I don't know. I'm emigrating to Homestead II. I have an emergency.
    COMMUNICATIONS BOOTH
    Division of Colonial Affairs, Homestead II Program. I have a Customer Help Line.
    JIM
    Sounds about right.
    The booth's camera zooms in on Jim's face. A microphone extends toward his mouth. The red RECORDING light comes on.
    COMMUNICATIONS BOOTH
    Begin message.
    Jim's a deer in the headlights. He collects himself.
    JIM
    Hi. I'm Jim Preston. I'm a passenger. On the Excelsior...I, uh, I think... something went wrong with my hibernation pod. I woke up too soon. I mean WAY too soon. And I can't get back to sleep. And there's nobody else here, nobody's awake.
    (with growing panic)
    The thing is, there's ninety years to go. And at this rate I'll...
    (takes a deep breath)
    I'm sorry. I...I'm trying to fix this. Maybe I missed something. I don't know. I just...I could use a hand. Thanks.
    Jim pushes the "SEND" button. Sits back in his chair.
    COMMUNICATIONS BOOTH
    Message sent.
    JIM
    Outstanding.
    COMMUNICATIONS BOOTH
    Message will arrive in nineteen years.
    JIM
    Say what?
    COMMUNICATIONS BOOTH
    Earliest reply in fifty-five years.
    JIM
    No.
    COMMUNICATIONS BOOTH
    We are nineteen light years from Earth. By the time your message arrives, we will be thirty-six light- years from Earth. We apologize for the delay.
    JIM
    Fifty-five years!
    COMMUNICATIONS BOOTH
    That will be six thousand twelve dollars.
    GRAND CONCOURSE Jim crosses the Concourse like a sleepwalker. Shell-shocked. He comes to the Concourse Bar: the fanciest watering hole on the ship. Black leather stools along a marble bartop. Behind the bar stands a handsome fellow in a bartender's uniform - his hair and skin eerily perfect. This is ARTHUR. Arthur sets a glass on the bar. At the sound, Jim spins. Gasps at the sight of a human face. He approaches the bar.
    JIM
    I thought I was the only one awake!
    ARTHUR
    It's the middle of the afternoon. What can I get you?
    JIM
    Whiskey, neat.
    ARTHUR
    Coming up.
    Arthur pours. Jim knocks the drink back. Points into the empty glass while his eyes water. Arthur pours another. Jim sighs in profound relief.
    JIM
    Man. I thought I was in trouble. So how come there's nobody else around?
    He sets his glass down carelessly, spilling whiskey.
    ARTHUR
    Can't say.
    In an astonishing movement, Arthur glides the length of the bar as if on roller skates. Scoops up a bar towel and glides back, mopping up Jim's spill. Jim watches this wide-eyed. He steps up on the footrail and peers behind the bar. Arthur's body stops at the waist. He's mounted on rails: built into the bar.
    JIM
    (deflated)
    You're a robot.
    ARTHUR
    Android, technically. Arthur's the name.
    He shakes Jim's hand formally.
    JIM
    I'm Jim.
    ARTHUR
    Pleased to meet you, Jim.
    JIM
    Arthur, how much do you know about the ship?
    ARTHUR
    I don't know. I know some things.
    JIM
    What do I do if my hibernation pod malfunctions?
    ARTHUR
    Impossible. Hibernation pods are fail- safe.
    JIM
    Yeah, well, I woke up early.
    ARTHUR
    Can't happen.
    JIM
    (a challenge)
    How long until we get to Homestead II?
    ARTHUR
    Ninety years or so.
    JIM
    And when are all of us passengers supposed to wake up?
    ARTHUR
    Not until the last two months.
    JIM
    So how can I be sitting here with ninety years to go?
    Arthur's eyes take on a faraway look. His head twitches.
    ARTHUR
    It's not possible for you to be here.
    He smiles as if he's solved the problem.
    JIM
    But I am.
    ARTHUR
    Sorry, Jim. My specialty is cocktails and conversation. Take your trick questions to one of those Infomats. They think they know everything.
    JIM
    Arthur, I'm screwed. I am completely, ridiculously screwed.
    ARTHUR
    Come on, now. Every cloud has a silver lining.
    JIM
    Silver lining? I'm going to die of old age on this ship!
    ARTHUR
    We all die. Even androids end up on the scrap heap. It's not dying that matters, it's living. This is your life. Are you going to live it or lie down and die?
    Jim shakes his head in surrender.
    JIM
    What do I owe you?
    ARTHUR
    Jim, the booze is on the house.
    FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT Jim stands in a moody lounge with panoramic windows onto the cold, magnificent vista of outer space. The stars shine in multitudes unseen on Earth. The Milky Way pours through it all like a river of light. Dead ahead of the Excelsior, the stars are blue-shifted by the ship's incredible speed. It's beautiful and fearfully vast.

INT. JIM'S CABIN - MORNING
    Jim wakes up and rolls out of bed. Shuffles into the shower. CAFETERIA Machines offer food and drink in dizzying variety. Each machine has a card slot and a screen displaying its menu. Jim enters, dressed in his own clothes - jeans, a T-shirt. He swipes his shipcard at a coffee machine. It offers sixteen kinds of coffee, from a simple cup of joe to the "Mocha Cappuccino Extreme." Jim picks the best of the lot.
    COFFEE MACHINE
    Sorry. The Mocha Cappuccino Extreme is reserved for gold-class passengers.
    Jim frowns and punches the button again.
    COFFEE MACHINE
    Sorry. The Mocha Cappuccino Extreme is reserved for gold...
    JIM
    I want the Extreme. Bill my room.
    COFFEE MACHINE
    Food can be purchased in the ship's specialty restaurants. But food in the Cafeteria is free.
    Jim presses the next button over.
    COFFEE MACHINE
    Sorry. The French Roast Deluxe is reserved for gold-class...
    Jim presses one button after another.
    COFFEE MACHINE
    Sorry...sorr...so...Large coffee.
    The machine dispenses a large coffee.
    JIM
    Are you serious?
    COFFEE MACHINE
    Please enjoy.
    SHIP STEWARD'S OFFICE Jim enters with his coffee. Prowls the office, opening drawers and cabinets. He finds a locker marked EMERGENCY GEAR and opens it eagerly. It holds oxygen tanks; fire extinguishers, an axe, an epoxy foamer for atmosphere leaks. He opens another door marked EMERGENCY MANUALS - and smiles: shelf after shelf of waterproof, fireproof technical manuals. Jim pulls a manual labeled HIBERNATION SYSTEMS. PASSENGER CARGO STOWAGE - DAY A cavernous cargo hold. Jim drives a forklift down the aisle, scanning container numbers. He finds a container labeled "PASSENGER #1498, JAMES PRESTON." The forklift pulls it from the rack. THE CARGO CONTAINER Opens to reveal Jim's belongings. Cartons with labels like "winter clothes" and "kitchen stuff." Amidst the cartons, a heavy-duty toolbox. Jim hauls it out. HIBERNATION BAY Jim sits in front of his empty hibernation pod. His toolbox beside him. The Hibernation Systems manual lies open. Jim tinkers with the electronics inside his pod. The pod hums to life. Its data screen flickers with information. Mysterious WHIRS and THUNKS. The canopy opens. Elated, Jim bounces to his feet. Strips off his shirt and scrambles in. The canopy closes over him. He assumes the position, his back against the backrest, waiting for the pod to put him to sleep. Nothing happens. He pokes at the ports where the sensors and intravenous lines used to protrude. Shakes the machine. He gives up. It's not working. But now he's trapped inside the pod. He pushes at the canopy, but it's locked shut. He pounds on the glass with no effect. Finally he loses it, shouting and stamping, hammering and raging. His voice is totally inaudible - the impacts of his fist reduced to quiet thuds. Despairing, he sinks to the floor of the pod, staring out at his tools. He's going to die in this glass prison. Then he notices the emergency release handle down by the floor. He pulls it, and the canopy pops open. The pod's display screen blinks back to its original message. PASSENGER DISCHARGED. CREW HIBERNATION FACILITY DOOR Jim looks through the porthole at the sleeping crew. Swipes his shipcard through the door switch. ACCESS DENIED. He pokes at the keypad. ACCESS DENIED. Jim opens his toolbox, selects a tool. Starts to remove the keypad's cover plate. FADE TO BLACK.: SUPER: THREE WEEKS LATER

INT. CREW HIBERNATION FACILITY DOOR - MORNING
    Jim works on the door with an industrial LASER CUTTER, wearing dark welding goggles. Sparks fly. He's drenched in sweat. Mussed and unshaven. He lifts the goggles and inspects the door. The laser cutter has barely marked the surface. The door's a mess. Its switch hangs on wires. There are pry marks around the latch. Gouges around the window. Failed drill holes. Dents left by an axe. But the door stands firm. Jim lets the laser cutter fall. It joins a scrapyard of tools on the floor: sledgehammer, jackhammer, drill, crowbar, axe. CONCOURSE BAR - DAY Arthur polishes glasses behind the bar. Jim sits, sweaty and grimy, a whiskey in front of him. His speech is soft around the edges. He's had a few.
    JIM
    I thought I'd figure something out. I thought it would just come to me.
    ARTHUR
    Good things come to those who wait, they say.
    JIM
    But I've tried everything.
    ARTHUR
    Sometimes you can't catch a break.
    Jim gives Arthur a thoughtful look.
    JIM
    I'm your only customer, but you're always polishing a glass.
    ARTHUR
    Trick of the trade. Makes people nervous when a bartender just stands there.
    JIM
    Okay. Lay some bartender wisdom on me. I'm lost in space here.
    Arthur polishes the bar while he thinks that one over.
    ARTHUR
    You're not where you want to be. You feel like you're supposed to be somewhere else. Right?
    JIM
    You said it.
    ARTHUR
    Well, here's the thing. Say you could snap your fingers and be wherever you wanted to be. Back on Earth, or on Homestead II.
    JIM
    Okay.
    ARTHUR
    I'll bet even if you got your wish, you'd still feel this way. Not in the right place. Supposed to be somewhere else. That's not a crisis, it's the human condition.
    Jim takes a moment to consider that.
    JIM
    That's not me.
    ARTHUR
    Well, maybe not. The point is, you can't get so wrapped up in where you'd rather be that you forget to make the most of where you are.
    JIM
    What are you telling me?
    ARTHUR
    It's a big ship. You're always running around banging on things and yelling at the robots. Take a break. Live a little.
    Jim spins on his barstool, surveying the Grand Concourse.
    JIM
    Live a little.
    When he comes back around he gives a shove. He spins faster.
    ARTHUR
    That's the spirit.
    Jim goes for one more shove. Misses. Falls off his stool. GRAND CONCOURSE - INFOMAT Jim scans a map of the ship. Second-class cabins. First-class cabins. And the good stuff: palatial suites named for European cities. His finger stops on one of the biggest. The Berlin Suite. BERLIN SUITE High ceilings, posh furniture, panoramic windows. The door jumps in its frame with a THUNK. Slides open. Jim enters, a crowbar in hand. A cargo robot follows him in, carrying his toolbox and suitcases. It deposits them on the floor.
    CARGO ROBOT
    The Berlin Suite! Enjoy your luggage!
    BERLIN SUITE - BEDROOM Jim unpacks. Stowing clothes, laying out his things. On the bedside table, an electronic book: "Out of This World: A Colonists's Guide to Starting Over." He pulls a pair of sneakers out of his luggage. DECK TWO - GYMNASIUM - BASKETBALL COURT Jim shoots baskets in sneakers and gym clothes. He makes a shot from the foul line. The ball bounces right back to him. He shoots again and misses. Again the ball returns: sits bouncing at his feet. Smart ball. He picks it up, backs up to the three-point line and hits his shot. He's not bad. BERLIN SUITE - BATH Jim cleans up in the opulent bathtub. A robot arm with a water jet washes his back. MARCELLO'S - DAY The Italian restaurant. Red checked tablecloths, vintage posters, candles in wicker-wrapped wine bottles. Jim sits at a table in a button-down shirt and tie. Peruses a menu. A robotic waiter rolls up in a beret and apron.
    WAITER
    (Italian accent)
    What do you desire, sir?
    JIM
    I'll have the rigatoni alla diabla, with the sauteed spinach and a glass of the...Montepulciano.
    WAITER
    Va bene!
    The waiter rolls off. Jim looks around at the empty tables. GRAND CONCOURSE - ARCADE - EVENING A state-of-the-art game room. Jim inspects the flagship game: "Z Factor!" A huge holographic display, a futuristic cockpit. Jim swipes his shipcard. The game speaks like an angry giant.
    Z FACTOR
    Jim Preston! Welcome to the greatest challenge you will ever know!
    JIM
    All right then.
    He clambers into the cockpit.
    Z FACTOR
    Are you ready to play Z Factor?
    JIM
    Sure.
    Z FACTOR
    (snarling)
    Are you ready to play Z Factor?!
    JIM
    (heartily)
    Yes!
    Z FACTOR
    (a roar)
    Begin!
    Colored lights play over Jim's face as the display lights up with images we do not see. Jim works the complex controls: pressing foot pedals, slashing in the air with handsets. Explosions roar. Red light bathes the room.
    Z FACTOR
    You lose! Z Factor reigns supreme!
    The game howls with demonic laughter. MOVIE THEATER - EVENING Art deco. Seats for a thousand. Jim enters. Looks around. MOVIE THEATER - CONTROL BOOTH Jim scrolls through a dizzying list of available films on a terminal. Makes a selection. MOVIE THEATER The screen shines as the movie starts. Jim arrives at a jog. Settles into a seat. Smiles as the light plays over his face. FADE TO BLACK.: SUPER: THREE MONTHS LATER GRAND CONCOURSE - ARCADE - DAY Flashes of light blaze across Jim's face. He's playing "Z Factor!" He's on fire. A fusillade of sound shakes the room. Jim moves like a martial artist, dripping sweat. The controls like part of his body, the gameplay second nature. A final thundering cannonade! A symphonic flourish! Golden light shines from the game machine.
    Z-FACTOR
    You are victorious!
    JIM
    Yes!
    Z-FACTOR
    You are the Grand Master of Z Factor!
    JIM
    (elated)
    I am the Grand Master of Z Factor!
    GYMNASIUM - BASKETBALL COURT Jim shoots a basket from half court. Perfect. Obedient as a dog, the ball bounces back to him, sits bouncing at his feet. Jim stares at the tapping ball. Gives it a kick. It arcs away. Comes bouncing back. He scoops up the ball and hurls it. It bounces off two walls. Comes bouncing back. But Jim's gone. The court is empty. The ball bounces to a halt and sits still. BELLA CANTINA - AFTERNOON The ship's Mexican restaurant. Identical to the Italian restaurant but with gaudy tablecloths, cactus centerpieces. The robot waiters wear sombreros. Jim sits over the wreckage of his lunch. He downs a margarita and puts the empty glass down beside several others.
    JIM
    Another margarita!
    MEXICAN ROBOT WAITER
    You have had many, senor.
    JIM
    (drunkenly)
    Margarita otra vez!
    MEXICAN ROBOT WAITER
    Sí, senor.
    LIBRARY - MORNING A room full of workstations, each with a reading machine. Jim sits at one in a headset, taking a Russian Language course.
    RUSSIAN TEACHER (FILTERED)
    This is the Gudonov Russian Language Course. Level One. Let's begin. Repeat after me.
    (in Russian)
    \[I am beginning to learn.\]
    JIM
    (in Russian)
    \[I am beginning to learn.\]
    RUSSIAN TEACHER (FILTERED)
    I am beginning to learn.
    JIM
    I am beginning to learn.
    CONCOURSE BAR - EVENING Jim sits drinking. Three glasses in front of him. Drunk.
    JIM
    (in bad Russian, subtitled)
    \[I be study the Russian.\]
    ARTHUR
    (in perfect Russian, subtitled)
    \[Good for you, my friend! It's a beautiful language.\]
    JIM
    You speak Russian!
    ARTHUR
    We have Russian passengers.
    JIM
    Well, I'm trying new things. From now on, every time I sit down, I want a drink I haven't had before.
    ARTHUR
    Fair enough.
    Arthur mixes a bright green drink, sets it in front of Jim. Jim takes a sip and makes a horrible face.
    JIM
    What's that?
    ARTHUR
    Something new.
    FADE TO BLACK.: SUPER: THREE MONTHS LATER

INT. BERLIN SUITE - BEDROOM - MORNING
    Jim sleeps in his luxurious bed. The covers knotted around him. He hasn't shaved in weeks. His eyes open. He lies staring at the ceiling. After a long moment he gets up. Shuffles toward the bathroom in his underwear. CAFETERIA - MORNING Jim walks past empty tables. Dials up a coffee and a danish. Sits eating, alone, among hundreds of empty tables. GRAND CONCOURSE - ARCADE ENTRANCE - DAY Flashes and blasts of noise. The sounds of Z Factor!
    Z FACTOR (O.S.)
    You are victorious!
    AT THE Z-FACTOR MACHINE Jim sits blank-faced in the cockpit.
    Z-FACTOR
    New high score!
    Bored, Jim punches his name into the High Scores board. JIM. All the other high scores say JIM. CONCOURSE BAR - MORNING Jim walks up to the bar and slides onto a stool.
    JIM
    (in fluent Russian, subtitled)
    \[I'm ready for today's new drink\]
    ARTHUR
    (in Russian, subtitled)
    \[I'm afraid I can't help you.\]
    Jim thumps his fist on the bar.
    JIM
    (in Russian, subtitled)
    \[Don't argue with me, robot. Give me a new drink.\]
    ARTHUR
    There are no new drinks.
    JIM
    What do you mean?
    ARTHUR
    I can make one thousand, four hundred and thirty-six cocktails. You've had them all.
    The news hits Jim like a death in the family.
    JIM
    There are no new drinks.
    GRAND CONCOURSE - NIGHT Jim walks past the upscale shops, blind to their displays. Barefoot and unkempt. He comes to a PHOTO BOOTH. The promotional pictures on the side catch his attention: people clowning, smiling, kissing. He pulls back the curtain, sits in the booth. A screen shows him his own face. Cheery text prompts him: CHOOSE A BACKDROP! Jim tabs through options. Paris, Angkor Wat, the Alps. A beach, an office, a New Year's Eve party. He picks the party. ONSCREEN: a party scene fills the space behind him. People laughing, dancing, drinking and kissing. A strobe flashes four times. A photostrip drops into the tray outside the machine: four identical shots of Jim staring into the lens without emotion, as digital revelers carouse behind him. GRAND CONCOURSE - ELITE PROMENADE - DAY Jim walks numbly along, ignoring the stellar view. He munches messily on potato chips. A SWEEPER ROBOT follows like a dog, cleaning up the crumbs. There's a bottle of vodka in an ice bucket atop the robot. Jim drops the empty potato-chip bag. As the robot darts in to clean it up, he plucks the vodka bottle from its back. SERVICE CORRIDOR Drinking from the bottle, Jim walks into frame and stops, staring: he's found a SERVICE AIRLOCK. He goes to the airlock and opens the inner door. A BUZZER sounds a warning. AIRLOCK Jim steps in. The inner door closes behind him. He peers through a porthole at the stars outside. He touches the outer door and yanks his hand back. Cold out there. Jim grabs the lever for the outer door: it's surrounded by caution stripes and warning labels. He tightens his grip.

EXT. EXCELSIOR - HULL
    The airlock's outer door opens with a blast of air. Jim emerges - wearing a SPACE SUIT. He plants his feet on the hull and walks up the side of the ship on gravity boots. ATOP THE SHIP Jim walks forward across the giant skylight. AT THE BOW Jim stands staring at the glittering cosmos: its frigid beauty mocking his misery. He raises his arms to the heavens, seeking some answer among the stars.

INT. HIBERNATION BAY - NIGHT
    Jim trudges wearily down a long aisle of sleepers: men and women of a thousand ethnicities, tucked in their rightful places.He looks at them with naked yearning. One face after another. Serene in slumber. Suddenly he stops. Inside a pod, a woman stands sleeping.
    JIM
    Who are you?
    He puts the bottle down. Steps close to peer at her pod's data screen:
    AURORA DUNN
    Writer New York, New York
    He studies her face in fascination for a long time.
    JIM
    Aurora.
    FADE TO BLACK.: SUPER: THREE MONTHS LATER

INT. BERLIN SUITE - MORNING
    Jim lies asleep, wearing boxer shorts and a full beard. The suite's a wreck. Laundry and dishes litter the floor. His eyes open. He looks at the stars outside. Gropes under the pillow and pulls out a remote control. Punches a button. The window shades come down, hiding the view. CORRIDOR Jim emerges from his room in boxer shorts and slippers. He's dragging a blanket. A housekeeping robot, its dustpan quivering in anticipation, hovers outside his door. Jim taps the "Do Not Disturb" button on his door panel and walks away. The housekeeping robot squeals in frustration as the door closes over the mess inside. CAFETERIA Jim fills a bowl with cereal. Pours a glass of milk. Tucks a spoon in his waistband. ELEVATOR Jim descends, the blanket draped over his shoulders like a serape. He holds his bowl of cereal and glass of milk. HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA'S POD Jim arrives in front of Aurora's hibernation pod.
    JIM
    Good morning.
    He sits down carefully. Pours milk over his cereal, sets the glass aside and begins to eat. His eyes never stray from her. LIBRARY A study space lined with glass-walled booths containing multimedia terminals. Jim sits in a booth, watching a television interview. From outside the booth, we see Aurora onscreen, speaking to a talk-show host. We cannot hear her: but Jim leans forward, watching intently. CONCOURSE BAR - EVENING Jim sits perusing an electronic slate. Arthur keeps busy behind the bar. Jim sets the slate aside with a sigh.
    JIM
    You know when you hear someone say something you've always believed, but never put into words? It's like a light turning on.
    ARTHUR
    I don't do a lot of reading.
    JIM
    She's good. She sees things, you know? She's not afraid to say it.
    ARTHUR
    Who's that?
    JIM
    Aurora.
    ARTHUR
    The sleeping girl.
    JIM
    Yeah. The sleeping girl.
    Jim drains his cocktail. Rises from his stool and turns to leave. He stops. Turns back.
    JIM
    You know, I'm not saying the universe is evil. But it's sure got a nasty sense of humor.
    ARTHUR
    How's that?
    JIM
    You get to fly to another planet, but you die on the way. You find the perfect woman right in front you... but she's completely out of reach.
    ARTHUR
    Aurora.
    JIM
    Arthur, I've read her books, everything. I can't stop thinking about her. Can't stay away.
    ARTHUR
    Jim, Aurora's asleep.
    JIM
    I know.
    (he shakes his head)
    I know.
    OBSERVATORY - DAY IN HOLOGRAM: Excelsior's progress diagram. The Excelsior hangs between Earth and Homestead II. A legend reads: "TIME TRAVELED: 30 YEARS. TIME REMAINING: 90 YEARS." Jim stands watching. The numbers change with a digital click. TIME TRAVELED: 31 YEARS. TIME REMAINING: 89 YEARS. HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA'S POD Jim stands in front of Aurora's pod, staring inside. He backs up against the opposite pod. Leans against the glass, hands in his pockets. He stands watching Aurora sleep. CONCOURSE BAR - MORNING Jim walks up to Arthur with the HIBERNATION SYSTEMS MANUAL. Drops the book on the bar with a thud and takes a seat.
    JIM
    Say you were trapped on a desert island, and you had the power to wish somebody there with you. You wouldn't be alone anymore, but you'd be stranding another person on the island. Do you make the wish?
    ARTHUR
    I don't know. I've never been on an island.
    JIM
    Okay. Say you figured out how to do something that would make your life a thousand times better. But it's wrong, and there's no taking it back. How wrong would it have to be to stop you?
    JIM
    What if it made your life a million times better? How do you do the math?
    ARTHUR
    Jim. These are not robot questions.
    Jim stares at Arthur in frustration.
    JIM
    I know how to wake Aurora up.
    ARTHUR
    Sounds like a fine idea. You could use some company.
    JIM
    I'd be stranding her on this ship for the rest of her life!
    ARTHUR
    Oh. Well, you can't do that.
    Jim buries his face in his hands.
    JIM
    What am I going to do?
    There's real despair in his voice. Arthur looks concerned.
    ARTHUR
    Jim. I'm here for you.
    JIM
    Arthur, you're a machine.
    HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA'S POD Jim stands in front of Aurora, the hibernation manual hugged to his chest. He rocks on his toes. Stares through the glass.

INT. GYMNASIUM
    Jim runs on a treadmill, drenched with sweat. LATER Jim works a heavy bag, his fists pounding away. The bag jumps and sways. His teeth are clenched, his expression intense.
    JIM
    Don't. Even. Think about it.
    BERLIN SUITE Jim emerges from the shower in a towel. Paces around his messy room. Without thought he scoops up the Hibernation Systems Manual and leafs through it.
    JIM
    (catching himself)
    Come on!
    He hurls the book across the room. HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA'S POD Jim stands inches from Aurora's pod. Looking in.

INT. BERLIN SUITE - BATH - DAY
    Jim stands at the sink with a futuristic shaver in his hand. He talks to himself as he takes off his castaway's beard.
    JIM
    I'm shaving off my beard.
    The whiskers pile up in the sink, wash down the drain. His face emerges from its mask.
    JIM
    Seriously. You can't do it.
    He stares at his reflection. Lifts his razor.
    JIM
    (astonished at himself)
    I'm shaving off my beard.
    CORRIDOR Jim exits his cabin. Finds a squadron of housekeeping robots waiting outside. He taps the "PLEASE SERVICE" button beside his door. The robots zoom inside with squeals of joy. HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA'S POD Jim stands in front of Aurora: toolbox in one hand, the technical manual in the other. He's breathing hard. He sets the toolbox down. Opens the manual. It's densely annotated in Jim's handwriting. He opens the pod's cover panel and goes to work. His hands shake. He starts to close a final contact. Stops. Gets to his feet. Stands looking at Aurora. Quickly he kneels and completes the circuit. Pulls his hands away as if the metal had burned him.
    JIM
    Okay.
    Aurora's pod hums. Medical data flows across its screen. Her vital signs re-start. Her skin flushes with color. Jim stands inches from the glass, staring inside. Aurora's perfect lips part. She takes a breath. Her chest rises and falls. Her thighs shift as she bends her knees. The sensors on her body drop off and withdraw into the pod. The rustle of wires rouses Jim from his trance. In mad haste he snatches up his tools and manual and flees the scene. A moment later Aurora opens her eyes. They're beautiful.
    VIDEO STEWARDESS
    Good morning, Aurora!
    BERLIN SUITE The luxury cabin now tidy and immaculate. Jim bursts in, wild- eyed. Drops his toolbox. Hides the manual in the closet. He splashes water on his face. Stares into the mirror. DECK SEVEN - CORRIDOR Jim sticks his head out of his cabin. Looks up and down the hall. Steps out warily. GRAND CONCOURSE On the Concourse's highest promenade, Jim paces nervously, glancing around. She could be anywhere.
    AURORA (O.S.)
    Hello?
    Jim rushes to the railing. Below, on the Grand Concourse, Aurora is turning in circles, looking up at the balconies.
    AURORA
    Hello!
    JIM
    (a husky whisper)
    Hi.
    (mustering a shout)
    Hello!
    Aurora spins. Spots him.
    AURORA
    Hey! Can I talk to you?
    JIM
    I'll come down.
    Jim runs down six flights of stairs, his heart in his throat. He reaches the Grand Concourse out of breath. Stops a few paces away, just looking at Aurora, getting his wind back.
    AURORA
    Passenger or crew?
    JIM
    Passenger. Jim Preston.
    He sticks out a hand. She shakes it firmly. Electric for Jim.
    AURORA
    (all business)
    Aurora Dunn. Do you know what's going on? Nobody else in my row woke up.
    JIM
    Yeah, I, uh...same for me.
    AURORA
    The crew's supposed to wake up a month before we do, but I haven't seen anybody.
    Jim swallows hard.
    JIM
    The crew's still sleeping.
    Aurora stares at him.
    AURORA
    What are you saying? Nobody's awake?
    JIM
    Just me.
    AURORA
    Just you.
    JIM
    Just us.
    AURORA
    But somebody's got to land the ship in a few weeks.
    Jim's finding it hard to deliver the bad news.
    JIM
    I have to show you something.
    ELEVATOR A Jim and Aurora ride upward. Jim can't keep his eyes off her.
    AURORA
    Typical. So much incompetence in these companies. No accountability! They lost my luggage on the flight to the spaceport. I'm leaving the planet and my bags almost didn't make it! Nobody apologizes. Nobody even feels bad. Where are we going?
    Jim yanks his eyes away from her.
    JIM
    The Observatory.
    OBSERVATORY Aurora's eyes, wide and staring. Her face a mask of horror. In front of them in the starry void hangs the ship's progress indicator - the Excelsior hanging between Earth and Homestead II. Thirty-one years elapsed; eighty-nine years to go.
    AURORA
    (a shocked whisper)
    Eighty-nine years to go.
    JIM
    The other passengers aren't late waking up. We're early.
    Aurora stares at Jim.
    AURORA
    We've got to get back to sleep.
    HIBERNATION BAY Jim and Aurora walk down a row of hibernation pods.
    AURORA
    We just need to get back in our pods.
    JIM
    It's not that simple. Putting somebody into hibernation takes special equipment. Remember the facility where they put us under?
    Jim points at a pod beside them. A middle-aged woman inside.
    JIM
    This pod'll keep her in hibernation as long as you want. Or wake her up. But it can't put her back to sleep.
    AURORA
    (getting it)
    You don't think there's a way back into hibernation.
    JIM
    Not that I can see.
    AURORA
    There has to be. There's always a way. Where's the crew?
    CREW HIBERNATION FACILITY DOOR Jim and Aurora stand staring at the door: scarred by Jim's many assaults. Aurora looks through the porthole at the crew inside. She runs her hands thoughtfully over the door's dents and gouges.
    AURORA
    (dreading the answer)
    How long have you been awake, Jim?
    JIM
    A year and three weeks.
    Aurora covers her mouth. Her eyes full of horror.
    AURORA
    Oh, no. No.
    She turns and walks briskly away. Suddenly breaks into a run. Jim watches her go, astonished. He runs after her. HIBERNATION BAY Aurora runs down a row of hibernation pods, her eyes searching wildly among the glass tubes. She turns a corner. Hesitates. Runs down another row. She's fighting tears. She puts on speed. Her sash unknots itself and her robe billows behind her. IN ANOTHER ROW Jim jogs along, worried. He's lost her. He pauses, listening. In the distance, slippered feet. He runs that way. He stops: the sash of Aurora's robe lies on the deck. He picks it up. Runs on.
    JIM
    Aurora!
    He rounds a corner and sees her. She's turning in place in the middle of the row. Laughing at her own panic.
    AURORA
    I can't even find the one I'm supposed to be in.
    Jim gives her the sash. She ties her robe around her.
    AURORA
    Thanks.
    Jim looks back at her, miserable with guilt.
    JIM
    I should have found a better way to tell you.
    AURORA
    I'm sorry. I lost it for a second. It just hit me, how serious this is. How did you wake up?
    JIM
    I just did. My pod dumped me out, and there I was.
    AURORA
    Me too. We have to get help.
    CONCOURSE - COMMUNICATIONS CENTER Jim and Aurora stand at a Passenger Communication Station. Jim swipes his card through the Comm Station's slot. It brings up his account information.
    JIM
    I've sent sixteen messages to Earth. A bunch to the Homestead Company, one to the Space Administration, one to the United Nations.
    JIM
    A couple to Homestead II just for the hell of it. My phone bill's about eighty grand.
    AURORA
    How soon could we hear something?
    JIM
    With speed-of-light lag...fifty-six years.
    Aurora's mouth goes dry. She swallows hard.
    AURORA
    What about the other occupied worlds?
    JIM
    They're even farther away. We'd die of old age before they could answer.
    AURORA
    What about other ships?
    (off Jim's stare)
    Jim?
    JIM
    (feeling very stupid)
    I never thought of other ships.
    AURORA
    Jim, you've had more than a year! There has to be a flight plan or something...
    They search the Comm Center and find a map table showing the Excelsior's position relative to the Occupied Worlds. Aurora fiddles with the controls. Interstellar flight plans appear: a holographic spiderweb of starship tracks.
    AURORA
    There!
    They inspect the threads of light - an icon on each thread representing a starship. Even Jim is excited now.
    AURORA
    How can we tell how close they are?
    JIM
    The computer knows. Give me a ship.
    AURORA
    (peering at the star map)
    The Zephyr.
    JIM
    Round-trip message time...ninety-nine years.
    AURORA
    The Andromeda.
    JIM
    One hundred thirty-two years.
    AURORA
    The Maximilian.
    JIM
    Eighty-one years.
    Jim and Aurora deflate visibly.
    AURORA
    That's the closest one.
    GRAND CONCOURSE - EVENING The ship's lights turn the cool blue of evening as Jim and Aurora walk across the plaza. Aurora looks up.
    AURORA
    What's happening?
    JIM
    Nine o'clock. Night time.
    AURORA
    Oh.
    (she stops walking)
    I know I should be working the problem right now, but I can barely keep my eyes open.
    JIM
    You just came out of hibernation. It'll be a couple days before you're a hundred percent. You should rest.
    AURORA
    (yawning)
    I think I have to.
    JIM
    I'll walk you to your cabin.
    AURORA
    No, I'm all right.
    JIM
    Okay.
    AURORA
    Jim. Don't look so down. It's going to be okay. You've got me on the team now. Chin up, all right?
    Jim nods, speechless.
    AURORA
    I'm in room 973 if you need me.
    Jim watches her walk away.
    JIM
    I'm in the Berlin Suite if you need me.
    She stops. Turns to look back at him.
    AURORA
    A year and a half? I can't imagine. It must have been hard for you.
    The sudden kindness is almost more than Jim can bear. His voice grows suddenly hoarse.
    JIM
    It was.
    AURORA
    Good night, Jim.
    GRAND CONCOURSE - CONCOURSE BAR Jim slides onto a barstool.
    JIM
    Whiskey, neat.
    ARTHUR
    Sure thing. How's your day been?
    Jim lifts the whiskey and tips it back.
    JIM
    Aurora's awake.
    ARTHUR
    Congratulations.
    (off Jim's face)
    You don't look happy.
    JIM
    Arthur. Can you keep a secret?
    ARTHUR
    I'm a bartender.
    JIM
    Don't tell Aurora I woke her up. She thinks it was an accident. Let me tell her.
    AURORA'S CABIN - NIGHT Aurora lies sleeping. BERLIN SUITE - BEDROOM - NIGHT Jim sits on the edge of his bed. Stares out the window. GRAND CONCOURSE - INFOMAT - MORNING Aurora talks with a relentlessly cheerful Infomat. She's wearing her own clothes, and it's a transformation: she looks hip and urban, beautiful.
    AURORA
    (indignant)
    How can there be no way to put someone back into hibernation? What if a pod breaks down?
    INFOMAT
    No hibernation pod has malfunctioned in thousands of interstellar flights.
    AURORA
    Well, I'm awake.
    INFOMAT
    Hibernation pods are fail-safe.
    Jim appears behind Aurora.
    JIM
    Morning. Have you eaten?
    AURORA
    I'm starving. This is the dumbest machine.
    INFOMAT
    Happy to help!
    CAFETERIA Jim watches in astonishment as Aurora blithely orders the snacks that the machines deny him. The Mocha Cappuccino Extreme. The French Breakfast Puff. The Gourmet Fruit Salad. They sit. Aurora eyes Jim's tray.
    AURORA
    You're a man of simple tastes.
    JIM
    I'm a silver class passenger. The French Breakfast Puff is above my pay grade.
    AURORA
    Oh, no! All this time? What can I get you?
    JIM
    No, I'm fine, really...
    AURORA
    Stop it. I'll be right back.
    She gets up. In a minute she's back, setting a tray down in front of Jim: A western omelette...toast...a side of bacon...a cafe latte. Jim shoves his old breakfast aside. They dig in.
    JIM
    Thank you.
    AURORA
    You think the crew members would know what to do? Could we wake them up if we got in there?
    A flash of guilt across Jim's face.
    JIM
    I'm no expert. But I think so.
    AURORA
    But we can't get in there.
    JIM
    No.
    AURORA
    Maybe there's another way to go to sleep. What about the infirmary?
    JIM
    I looked around. It's the usual hospital stuff. Scanners, autodocs.
    AURORA
    Did you look for ways of going to sleep?
    JIM
    Not really.
    AURORA
    Well, Jim!
    JIM
    You think they've got suspended animation pills sitting around?
    AURORA
    You don't know until you look. What about cargo? Maybe there's a hibernation machine in the hold.
    JIM
    I read the manifests. It's mostly farming stuff, machines and trade goods. We're not going to find a hibernation facility in a box.
    AURORA
    You don't know that! We have to think big here. Maybe we can build our own hibernation machine.
    JIM
    No, we can't.
    AURORA
    Jim, you're not even trying!
    JIM
    I've been awake for over a year. I've tried everything I can think of.
    AURORA
    (she gets up angrily)
    Well, it looks to me like you missed some possibilities. And I'm not ready to give up.
    She strides out. Jim watches her go. Reaches over and takes the Gourmet Fruit Salad off her tray. INFIRMARY - DAY Aurora inspects the gleaming medical equipment. Rummages through cabinets full of medicines and instruments. She opens a steel vault. A deep freeze: icy vapor rolls out. Inside: racks of chrome capsules at subzero temperatures. She leans close: each frosted capsule is labeled with a passenger's name and the word SPERM or OVA. This is the GENE BANK, a repository of genetic material from every crew member and passenger aboard the ship. LIBRARY - DAY Aurora sits at a library workstation.
    WORKSTATION
    No plans are available.
    AURORA
    What about research articles? Any kind of technical documents.
    WORKSTATION
    Hibernation technology is proprietary. The following articles deal with the subject on a theoretical level.
    GRAND CONCOURSE Jim comes upon a cleaning robot that appears to have lost its mind. It bumps repeatedly into a wall, blindly. Jim turns the robot around. It drives in a circle and resumes bumping into the wall. Jim watches the robot curiously. CREW HIBERNATION FACILITY DOOR - EVENING Aurora frowns through the window at the sleeping crew. A litter of tools still surrounds the battered door. Aurora snatches up a crowbar and bashes the porthole. The bar spins from her stinging hands, but the window's not even marked. CONCOURSE - COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - DAY Aurora sits at a communications booth.
    COMMUNICATIONS BOOTH
    Planet and connection, please.
    AURORA
    Earth. New York City. Random House, office of the Publisher in Chief.
    COMMUNICATIONS BOOTH
    Begin message.
    AURORA
    (into camera)
    This is Aurora Dunn. Passenger on the Starship Excelsior. I'm an author of yours, with a contract for a book on the colony worlds.
    (wryly)
    You gave me a big advance. I know you won't get this message for a long time...I don't know what you're supposed to do about it...
    She gropes for words, not sure where she's going with this.
    AURORA
    But I'm in trouble...and I had to tell someone.
    GRAND CONCOURSE - EVENING Jim sits on a sofa with his toolbox beside him. The broken robot lies on its back in front of him. He tinkers inside it. Aurora drops into a chair across from him. He looks up. Takes in her condition: weary and frustrated.
    AURORA
    There's no way we're going to build a hibernation machine.
    JIM
    No.
    AURORA
    And there's no magic sleeping pills in the infirmary.
    JIM
    No.
    AURORA
    I did find the gene bank. Five thousand sperm and egg samples on ice. I should be glad they do that. By the time we get to Homestead II, that little capsule in the freezer is going to be all that's left of me. We really are screwed, aren't we?
    JIM
    Pretty much.
    BELLA CANTINA - EVENING Jim and Aurora sit across a Mexican dinner they've already put a dent in. An electric candle burns between them. A robot in a sombrero drops off two mojitos and scoots away. Aurora finishes her plate and leans back.
    AURORA
    So who are you, Jim?
    JIM
    Me?
    AURORA
    Yeah. I'm going to be seeing you around. I should know who I'm talking to.
    Jim is flustered by the attention.
    JIM
    I'm from Denver.
    AURORA
    What kind of work do you do?
    JIM
    I fix things. Transport, robotics, industrial systems. Little of everything. On the emigration forms I'm a "rate two" mechanical engineer.
    AURORA
    I'm not nearly that useful. I'm a writer.
    JIM
    What kind of writer?
    AURORA
    Long-form observational pieces. Social commentary, investigative work, some humor...
    (she grins)
    A little of everything.
    (off Jim's stare)
    Do I have something on my face?
    Jim tears his eyes away from her, embarrassed.
    JIM
    Sorry.
    AURORA
    Oh, right! I'm sorry. I'm forgetting. You just spent a year with no one to talk to but robots. I don't know how you did it. They're all such idiots!
    JIM
    Not all of them.
    CONCOURSE BAR - NIGHT Jim leads Aurora up to the bar. It appears deserted. Aurora is all curiosity. Suddenly Arthur appears, swinging up from behind the bar as if mounted on a hinge. Aurora gives a squeal of surprise.
    ARTHUR
    Evening, Jim. Who's the lovely lady?
    JIM
    Arthur, this is Aurora. Aurora, Arthur.
    ARTHUR
    Aurora. A pleasure.
    He takes her hand formally.
    AURORA
    Arthur! Lovely to meet you.
    She peeks over the bar at Arthur's mechanical mounting, the rails he rolls on.
    ARTHUR
    What'll it be?
    AURORA
    Dirty martini!
    (to Jim)
    Now this is a robot I can talk to.
    JIM
    Android, technically.
    (to Arthur)
    Whiskey and soda.
    LATER Empty glasses show that Jim and Aurora have been doing yeoman's work at the bar. Both are tipsy and laughing.
    AURORA
    (collecting herself)
    Oh...I almost forgot my life is in ruins.
    That wipes the smile off Jim's face.
    JIM
    Sorry.
    AURORA
    What for?
    (she gets up)
    I'm going to bed. In the morning we'll think of something brilliant.
    JIM
    All right.
    AURORA
    Good night, Jim. Good night, Arthur.
    She exits.
    ARTHUR
    Good night.
    (to Jim, sotto voce)
    She's wonderful. Excellent choice.
    Jim drops his head into his hands. AURORA'S CABIN - NIGHT Aurora unpacks. She stows clothing in drawers and closets: everything at right angles and perfectly creased. She looks up suddenly, astonishment on her face.
    AURORA
    Of course!

EXT. BERLIN SUITE
    Aurora pounds on the door.
    AURORA
    Jim! Wake up!
    The door opens. Jim stands blinking in his bathrobe.
    AURORA
    We'll go home.
    ELEVATOR Aurora drags Jim in. He's still in his robe.
    AURORA
    It takes too long to get to Homestead II. But we're closer to Earth. We'll turn the ship around.
    JIM
    We can't.
    AURORA
    It's our only chance of getting off this ship in our lifetimes!
    COMMAND DECK Aurora drags Jim out of the elevator. Looks around.
    AURORA
    Where's the...navigating place?
    JIM
    The Bridge. That way. But listen...
    She marches off down the corridor. He follows.
    AURORA
    We can learn how to pilot the ship. We have all the time in the world.
    JIM
    Just one problem.
    COMMAND DECK - BRIDGE DOOR Aurora opens the Bridge door - revealing the armored hatch. Gouges and burns betray Jim's past efforts to get inside.
    JIM
    Everything important - the controls, the reactor, the engines - it's all behind firewalls. No way through.
    AURORA
    Oh.
    JIM
    Sorry.
    AURORA
    (crushed)
    That was my last good idea.
    FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK - DAY Aurora sits curled up in an armchair. Around her, a dizzying view of the cosmos. There's a cup of coffee on a table beside her. In her lap, an electronic slate with a microphone.
    AURORA
    New file. My Voyage.
    A clean page opens on the slate. The title in the corner: "My Voyage." As Aurora speaks, the page fills with words.
    AURORA
    I boarded the Excelsior with a destination. A goal. To walk on new worlds. But things have taken an unexpected turn.
    GRAND CONCOURSE - DAY Aurora jogs in sneakers and sweats. Cabin doors flash past.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    I've been awake on this ship for seven days, awake far too soon...
    Dead end. She's reached the aft end of the ship. She crosses a lobby and runs back the other way.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    ...and I may well spend the rest of my life here...
    Running along a promenade, Aurora reaches the forward end of the ship. Dead end again.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    ...in a little steel world a thousand meters long.
    GRAND CONCOURSE Jim sits at a table reading a technical manual. He looks up. Watches Aurora jog around the atrium and vanish.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    Another passenger shares my fate. A mechanic named Jim Preston.
    SWIMMING POOL - DAY The swimming pool is a marvel: one entire wall is a window extending from the ceiling to the bottom of the pool. Aurora enters in her Homestead Company bathrobe. Drops the robe to reveal a bathing suit. She dives into the pool.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    The other passengers will sleep for another ninety years.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - SWIMMING POOL WINDOW
    Aurora swims, a slender shape moving on the water's surface. We pull out, the ship dwindling, the blue window receding.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    By the time they wake, Jim and I will have lived, grown old, and died.

INT. FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK
    Back on Aurora in her armchair, writing.
    AURORA
    Vanished, like a dream, in the blink of an eye.
    She falters, frightened by her own words. CAFETERIA - DAY Jim sits tinkering with the goggle head of the broken robot. The table is strewn with tools and parts. Aurora sits down across from him.
    AURORA
    Why did you do it?
    Jim is thunderstruck. The game is up. He swallows hard.
    JIM
    Do what?
    AURORA
    Emigrate. Leave Earth. I'm interviewing you.
    JIM
    You're what?
    AURORA
    You're the first hibernation failure in the history of space travel. That makes you a story.
    JIM
    Who are you going to tell?
    AURORA
    Posterity. So why'd you give up your life on Earth?
    Jim hesitates. He hadn't thought about it quite that way.
    AURORA
    A hundred and twenty years' hibernation means you never see your family and friends again. You sleep your way to another planet and another century. It's the ultimate geographical suicide.
    JIM
    I, uh...I never really...
    AURORA
    Were you running away from something?
    JIM
    No. Things were okay.
    AURORA
    So?
    JIM
    I just wanted...you know. A fresh start. Back to basics.
    AURORA
    That's Homestead Company propaganda.
    JIM
    I guess.
    AURORA
    Jim!
    JIM
    When something breaks on Earth these days, you don't fix it. You replace it. But in the colonies they still have problems to solve. My kind of problems. A handyman is somebody.
    Nothing there for Aurora to scoff at. She looks impressed.
    JIM
    And there's room! Open country. Woods and fields. Room to grow.
    AURORA
    Now you're back to slogans.
    JIM
    Can't slogans be true?
    HIBERNATION BAY Jim and Aurora walk down an aisle of hibernation pods.
    AURORA
    You know how much the Homestead Company made off its first planet, Homestead I? Over eight quadrillion dollars. That's eight million billions. Colony planets are the biggest business going. Did you pay full price for your ticket?
    JIM
    No. I'm in a desirable trade.
    AURORA
    So they fill your head with dreams, discount your ticket, and you fly off to populate their planet and pay Homestead ten percent of everything you do for the rest of your life. You think you're free? You're just part of the business plan.
    Jim waves at the rows of sleepers.
    JIM
    All you see here is five thousand suckers?
    AURORA
    I see zeroes on the Homestead Company's bottom line.
    JIM
    I see five thousand men and women changing their lives. For five thousand different reasons. You don't know these people.
    AURORA
    I'm a journalist. I know people.
    Jim walks up to a hibernation pod. Glances at the data screen. He covers the screen with his hand.
    JIM
    This guy. Banker, teacher, or gardener?
    Aurora studies the sleeper: a barrel-chested man of 50 with gray temples and a jutting jaw.
    AURORA
    Banker.
    JIM
    Gardener.
    Jim moves down the row, peeks at another screen, covers it.
    JIM
    Is this Madison, Donna, or Lola?
    Aurora peers: a birdlike young woman with long red hair.
    AURORA
    She's too silly to be a Donna. I think she's a Lola.
    JIM
    Madison. Chef, accountant, or midwife?
    AURORA
    She has to be a midwife. There's no way you made that one up.
    JIM
    (chuckling, caught)
    She's a midwife. I didn't know they still had midwives.
    They move among the sleepers, quizzing each other.
    AURORA
    (pointing at a man and woman side by side)
    Married, or strangers?
    JIM
    Married.
    AURORA
    (impressed)
    Yes.
    (about an older woman)
    Politician, historian, or artist?
    JIM
    I don't know. Artist?
    AURORA
    It doesn't say. But I'll tell you this: I like her. We'd be friends.
    Jim looks at Aurora seriously.
    JIM
    You think you can see that?
    AURORA
    Don't you?
    Jim looks at the woman in the pod. Smiles.
    JIM
    Yeah.
    FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK - DAY Jim and Aurora sit together on a sofa - the universe spread out before them. Aurora nestled in a lap blanket. Jim's feet up on a coffee table.
    JIM
    A round-trip ticket?
    AURORA
    That's right. I was going to fly to Homestead II. Live for a year. Then right back to Earth.
    JIM
    (perplexed)
    I left Earth for a new life. But you end up back where you started.
    AURORA
    I end up in the future. Two hundred and fifty years in the future. On Earth, which is still the center of civilization, overcrowded or not. And I arrive with a story to tell, and a perspective no other writer has.
    Jim looks at Aurora, trying to square her chipper tone with the pure desolation of her plan. He doesn't get it.
    JIM
    And what's the story?
    AURORA
    The selling of the colonial dream.
    Jim's eyes widen at that pronouncement. He thinks it over.
    AURORA
    How did you say good-bye?
    JIM
    I guess I didn't. I just left.
    AURORA
    I had this huge farewell party. Everybody came. Family, friends... Enemies. Everyone I knew.
    (she laughs bleakly)
    Jim, I can't think of anything else to try. To save us, I mean. I don't even want to think about it anymore. I can't bear it.
    (she stands)
    What is there to do around here?
    MOVIE THEATER - DAY Jim leads Aurora into the movie theater. The lights come up. The curtain opens. Aurora looks around in wonder. A bundle of cables snakes down the aisle.
    JIM
    Watch your step. I've made a few changes.
    They sit. Next to Jim's seat there's a cluster of machines. He taps a button that produces a bucket of hot popcorn.
    JIM
    Popcorn?
    Aurora grins and takes some.
    AURORA
    I never do this.
    A mobile screen beside Jim lists movies.
    JIM
    What are you in the mood for?
    AURORA
    Horror. Something bloody.
    (off his laughter)
    I don't know. You choose.
    Jim taps a button. The curtains slide open. They settle back. GYMNASIUM - BASKETBALL COURT - DAY Jim and Aurora play one-on-one. She's not especially good, but fiercely competitive. They jostle and scramble, laughing. Aurora snags the ball. For a minute she stands there beaming.
    JIM
    What are you so happy about?
    AURORA
    I'm up two points!
    She cuts around him toward the basket. DECK TWO - VIRTUAL MUSEUM - EVENING White rooms. As Jim and Aurora enter, the blank wall panels display a collection of bright abstract paintings. Aurora goes to the control podium. Scrolls through the menu, covers her eyes and chooses blind. The wall panels fill with medieval visions of Hell. She winces. Chooses again. Chaotic collages. She frowns. Jim steps to her side and makes a selection, surprising her. The walls fill with landscapes - stark plains and oceans, with lonely figures isolated in the vastness. The images pull Jim and Aurora in: they stand before a dark seascape. Without thinking she reaches out and tucks her hand in the crook of his elbow. FADE TO BLACK.: SUPER: ONE MONTH LATER SWIMMING POOL - MORNING Aurora swims laps, cutting through the water. In the balcony above the pool, Jim stands watching her. Aurora, making a turn at the end of a lap, catches a glimpse of him but doesn't let on. Underwater she smiles. GRAND CONCOURSE - DAY A little duster robot patrols the concourse. Jim's hands reach into frame and lift the robot off its wheels. Passing along an upper promenade, Aurora sees Jim walk away with the duster robot under his arm. JIM'S WORKSHOP - DAY A functional room that Jim has turned into a workshop. Broken robots of different types lie around in partial states of disassembly. Jim stands at a workbench, the duster robot in front of him. He tinkers with its complex works. He sets the robot on the floor. Types a command on his industrial laptop, hits EXECUTE. His kidnapped robot does a figure-eight on the floor. Jim smiles in satisfaction. FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK - DAY Aurora sits on a sofa, writing slate in her lap. She's editing: dragging words around with a fingertip. A mechanical whir distracts her. She looks down. Jim's pet robot looks up at her with binocular eyes. It carries a paper in a clip on its back. Aurora pulls it free. A handwritten note from Jim. It reads: Come to dinner with me tonight? - Jim Aurora reads the note with a grin.
    AURORA
    (to the robot)
    Is he asking me on a date?
    JIM'S WORKSHOP Jim sits at his laptop, watching the screen: a robot's-eye- view of Aurora. He wiggles a joystick on his laptop, and... FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK

..the robot nods its goggle head. Aurora laughs.
    Beside the note-clip, the robot carries a pen in a makeshift holder. Aurora takes the pen, scribbles on the paper. Tucks it back into the robot's note clip. GRAND CONCOURSE - CONCOURSE BAR Arthur polishes glasses behind the bar. The robot crosses the Concourse, note clipped to its back. Arthur watches it pass. JIM'S WORKSHOP Jim plucks the note from the robot's back. Aurora's reply is written in bold letters: Love to. -A AURORA'S CABIN - EVENING Aurora gets ready for dinner. A slim dress, a few pieces of jewelry, her hair up. She looks like a goddess. The doorbell rings. Jim stands on her doorstep in a dapper jacket. His eyes widen as he takes Aurora in.
    JIM
    Wow.
    AURORA
    You clean up all right yourself. You went shopping.
    JIM
    I went shoplifting.
    In the corridor waits a cargo robot to which Jim has attached a loveseat. He helps Aurora aboard. Takes a seat beside her. She's charmed.
    JIM
    Rutherford! To the bar!
    CARGO ROBOT
    Yes, Passenger Jim!
    The robot zooms off to the sound of Aurora's laughter. GRAND CONCOURSE - CONCOURSE BAR Jim and Aurora take seats. Arthur puts on his best manners.
    ARTHUR
    Evening. What can I get for you?
    AURORA
    Manhattan, please.
    JIM
    Single malt, rocks.
    Arthur pours.
    ARTHUR
    You two look fine this evening.
    AURORA
    (confidentially)
    We're on a date!
    ARTHUR
    Very nice.
    AURORA
    (to Jim, teasing)
    Took you long enough to ask.
    JIM
    I was giving you space!
    AURORA
    Space is one thing I don't need more of. Oh! I found a drug that would put us in a coma.
    JIM
    Really?!
    AURORA
    But the catch is, we'd still be aging.
    JIM
    Oh.
    AURORA
    Yeah. If I have to grow old on this ship, I'd at least like to be awake for it. So that was a failure.
    JIM
    A highly ambitious failure.
    AURORA
    There's the title of my memoir. "A Highly Ambitious Failure," by Aurora Dunn.
    Jim laughs. He thinks for a minute.
    JIM
    "Voyage to Nowhere," by Jim Preston.
    AURORA
    (laughing)
    "My Life in a Tin Can."
    JIM
    "A Spaceship Built For Two."
    GRAND CONCOURSE - NIGHT Jim and Aurora ride along on the cargo robot, giddy and loose. Suddenly she points. They're passing the photo booth.
    AURORA
    Rutherford, stop!
    The robot stops. She pulls Jim off.
    AURORA
    Come on, we have to do this!
    She pulls Jim to the photo booth. They tumble inside. As the strobe flashes, she kisses him hard. Jim looks at her in happy astonishment. Outside, the photo strip drops into the tray. In the first frame, they pose. In the second, they laugh. In the third, they kiss. In the last, Aurora smiles at the camera. Jim looks at Aurora. XANADU The Excelsior's grandest restaurant. Lavishly styled. Jim and Aurora sit at the best table. Robot waiters set covered plates in front of them. Lift the silver covers to reveal exquisite dishes. Aurora takes her first bite and smiles, her eyes wide.
    AURORA
    So good.
    JIM
    It wasn't easy getting a reservation.
    They grin at each other across the table.

INT. AIRLOCK - NIGHT
    Rutherford the robot whisks Jim and Aurora up to a service airlock and stops. Aurora looks mystified - as if their date has culminated in a visit to a broom closet.
    AURORA
    What's this?
    JIM
    The best show in town.
    MINUTES LATER Jim stands wearing a spacesuit - helmet off. Helping Aurora into a suit of her own. She's thrilled and terrified, like a skydiver taking her first jump.
    AURORA
    You've done this before?
    JIM
    Yeah.
    AURORA
    And it's safe.
    JIM
    Reasonably safe.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - HULL
    Jim and Aurora, in spacesuits, walk forward along the hull, hand in hand. Around them, a riot of stars. The Milky Way. Blue-shifted stars ahead of the ship, red-shifted stars aft. At the bow they stop, taking in the awe-inspiring view.
    AURORA
    Jim. It's incredible.
    He turns to face her. The blue stars frame his head; the pink, Aurora's. He takes a knee in front of her.
    AURORA
    What are you doing?
    Jim unreels tethers from both of their belts. Sticks the anchors to the hull - and turns off Aurora's gravity boots. She floats off the hull, clinging to his hands. Electrified.
    AURORA
    Jim!
    But there's wonder and raw delight in her eyes. She pulls her face toward his - and their helmet visors clunk together.

INT. AIRLOCK - NIGHT
    Aurora and Jim kiss almost violently as they squirm out of their spacesuits.

INT. BERLIN SUITE - NIGHT
    Jim and Aurora make love in the wide bed, satin sheets tangled around them, a starry tapestry outside the window. FADE TO BLACK.: CAFETERIA - MORNING Jim and Aurora sit eating breakfast. Aurora eats happily: Jim watches her across the table.
    AURORA
    I'm starving. You have no idea.
    (she grins)
    Last night was just what I needed.
    JIM
    You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You kill me.
    Aurora stops eating, her spoon halfway to her lips. They look at each other. Jim grabs her across the table. She comes out of her chair. They kiss fiercely - Aurora climbs onto the table, sweeping dishes aside. A moan. A crash of crockery. Cleaning robots zoom in as Jim and Aurora make love on the tabletop, sweeping up as glassware continues to fall. BERLIN SUITE Jim and Aurora lie in Jim's imperial bed, glistening with sweat and breathing hard. She nestles in his arms, her back against his chest. They look out at the stars.
    JIM
    You okay?
    AURORA
    Yes, I'm fine. It's just...
    She waves her hand in the air as if to signify, all of this.
    JIM
    I know.
    She snuggles in tighter, and he holds her close.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - BERLIN SUITE WINDOW
    Through the window, Jim and Aurora lie together in the luxurious bed. We pull out, the window dwindling, as the Excelsior soars away from us through a burning nebula of red and gold. FADE TO BLACK.: SUPER: THREE MONTHS LATER CORRIDOR - MORNING A luxury cabin door: the doorplate reads "Vienna Suite." VIENNA SUITE - BEDROOM The ship's most romantic cabin. On one side of the bedroom, Aurora's mementos and possessions. On the other side, Jim's. They wake together. She kisses him on the cheek with the ease of long habit and heads for the shower. He watches her go. SWIMMING POOL - MORNING Swimming, Aurora reaches the end of a lap. A hand reaches down and catches her before she can turn. Jim kneels at the edge of the pool, in coveralls and work boots, a tool belt slung over his shoulder.
    JIM
    I'm going down to the cargo hold.
    Aurora pulls herself up and kisses him.
    AURORA
    Careful.
    JIM
    Back by happy hour.
    FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK - DAY Aurora writes on her sofa, surrounded by electronic slates.
    AURORA
    The Polynesians set out into the Pacific Ocean with no destination. Searching for islands. They sailed into the endless sea on faith.
    SUBDECK A - NUMBER EIGHT CARGO HOLD - DAY Jim walks among the cargo racks. Machines stacked from floor to ceiling: tractors, combines, gravity boats and hovercraft.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    Some never returned. Others found land and prospered. What drove them out onto the sea? Curiosity? Tradition? The wish for something better?
    Jim opens cargo containers. He sorts through ingots of rare metals, solar panels, spools of gold and silver wire. Raw materials for a young world.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    The urge to move is as primal as hunger or thirst. We run, we drive, we sail, we fly.
    Jim finds a stash of golf carts and his eyes light up. GRAND CONCOURSE - CONCOURSE BAR - DAY Aurora sits at the bar with her slate, sipping a drink.
    AURORA
    Is it movement that we need? Or the possibility of something new?
    ARTHUR
    What's that?
    AURORA
    I'm writing, Arthur. Hush.
    Aurora's slate has recorded this exchange: she erases the extra words with her fingertip. SUBDECK A - NUMBER SEVEN CARGO BAY Jim drives his cart into a new bay - and stares in wonder. In oversized hibernation pods: cattle, horses, sheep, oxen. All asleep. Chickens, ducks and geese in individual cells.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    Like seeds, we carry what we need. The wind drives us - whether the trade winds, the solar winds, or the winds of chance.
    The next aisle holds plants in stasis: saplings in tubes, seedlings in individual vials. Jim stops in front of a glass case. Rosy light bathes his face. He smiles. We don't see why.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    We take root where we fall. And helplessly we grow.
    VIENNA SUITE - BEDROOM - EVENING Aurora sits with her slate. Eyeing Jim's side of the room. Giving in, she begins to explore Jim's possessions: poking into the drawers of his nightstand and dresser. She opens his closet. Shifting things, she finds a dog-eared manual on hibernation pods. A bookmark in the pages. She goes to open the book - and the bookmark slides into her hand. It's the photo strip Jim took during his isolation: Four identical shots of his face, bearded and hollow-eyed. The melancholy images hit her hard. She touches the pictures to make them move: but Jim sits immobile as the digital partygoers in the background cheer and laugh. In the fourth image, Jim sighs heavily. Voices in the hall.
    CLEANING ROBOT (O.S.)
    Hello, Passenger.
    JIM (O.S.)
    Hello, robot.
    Hastily Aurora replaces the manual. Closes the closet. Jim appears in the doorway: tool belt over his shoulder, duffel bag in hand.
    AURORA
    Hi.
    JIM
    Hey. How was your day?
    AURORA
    I wrote a few pages. I'm not sure what I'm doing anymore. I think I'm writing about us.
    JIM
    Makes sense.
    AURORA
    I'm not sure I want to write about us. I don't even know how to think about it. I live in a palace. But it's also a prison.
    AURORA
    I'm moving at half the speed of light and I can't go anywhere!
    Jim takes that in.
    JIM
    The cargo hold is full of pioneer gear. Floatships and heavy lifters and grav barges. That's what I wanted: a world still being made. Where you can build your own house and live in it.
    AURORA
    I'll never live the life I was going to write about. So much for literary immortality.
    They sit for a moment in glum contemplation.
    AURORA
    Did you find anything down there that could help us?
    JIM
    Yes. I found these.
    Jim unzips his duffel bag and takes out a bouquet of red roses. Aurora gasps. Reaches out to touch them.
    AURORA
    Are they real?
    JIM
    I cut them myself.
    She takes them.
    AURORA
    Thank you.
    She looks into his eyes.
    AURORA
    For two unlucky people, we got pretty lucky.
    FADE TO BLACK.: SUPER: THREE MONTHS LATER

INT. ELITE DECK - CORRIDOR - DAY
    A deep RUMBLE. Jim and Aurora sprint down the hall, cabin doors flashing by. Jim leading the way.
    JIM
    It's coming! Run!
    CELESTIAL PROMENADE Jim and Aurora run up the stairs onto the highest promenade on the ship: glass all around, skylight above. The RUMBLE is louder. A bloody light fills the sky. A STAR looms ahead of the ship: a RED GIANT. The Excelsior rockets toward the star. The passage takes less than a minute. The Red Giant swells in the windows. The ship shudders. The engines howl. Aurora falls into Jim's arms. The ship bathed in red light. The star fills the skylight, fills the sky itself. A fiery surface turbulent with sunspots and mysterious currents. The engines scream. And then they're past. The star recedes, dwindling as quickly as it grew. The engines quiet. The ship's calm restored.
    AURORA
    That was incredible.
    JIM
    Happy birthday.
    She throws her arms around him. STARDOME - XANADU - EVENING Jim and Aurora dine. They laugh and flirt with easy intimacy. Their plates emptied, they sit back, sipping wine. Jim lifts the table's candle and waves it in the air. A robot rolls up with a birthday cake, candles alight.
    JIM
    (singing)
    Happy birthday to you...
    The robot waiters unexpectedly join in, a tinny chorus. Jim tries not to laugh as he keeps singing. Aurora just beams.
    JIM & ROBOTS
    Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday, dear Aurora... Happy Birthday to you.
    Aurora sits bathed in candlelight, and for this moment she is truly and fundamentally happy. She blows the candles out. GRAND CONCOURSE - CONCOURSE BAR - NIGHT Jim and Aurora sit at the bar, tipsy. Arthur pours.
    ARTHUR
    Birthday drink for the birthday girl.
    AURORA
    Aren't you going to check my I.D.? I might not be old enough to drink.
    ARTHUR
    I'd never ask your age in front of a gentleman.
    AURORA
    Jim's not a gentleman. Anyway there's no secrets between me and Jim.
    Arthur looks surprised. Turns to Jim inquisitively.
    ARTHUR
    Is that so?
    JIM
    (breezily)
    You heard the lady. Be right back.
    He walks away.
    AURORA
    You know what I like about you, Arthur? You have a sense of occasion. I bet ladies fall for you on every trip.
    ARTHUR
    I'd say you were pulling my leg, but I haven't got any.
    AURORA
    (laughing)
    Exactly! There you go.
    ARTHUR
    I remember your last birthday, a year ago. Jim was really looking forward to meeting you.
    Aurora frowns, processing this sentence - her smile fading.
    AURORA
    What?
    MEN'S WASHROOM Jim stands at the mirror, touching up his hair. He pulls a swatch of velvet from his pocket and unwraps a handmade ring, cunningly woven of gold and silver wire. He looks it over. Adjusts a curve of wire with his fingernail. He carefully returns the ring to his pocket. CONCOURSE BAR Aurora scowls at Arthur, trying to get her bearings.
    AURORA
    What do you mean, he was looking forward to it? How could he...
    ARTHUR
    He couldn't stop talking about you! He spent months deciding whether to wake you up.
    Aurora eyes widen in shock.
    AURORA
    Jim woke me up.
    ARTHUR
    Oh, yes. Said it was the hardest decision of his life, but I see it worked out just fine.
    Aurora stops breathing. She stares at the bartop. Jim strolls up to the bar. His hand slides into the jacket pocket where the ring lies hidden. But Aurora's body language is all wrong. He stops, perplexed.
    JIM
    What?
    She sits rigid. Jim's hand slides out of his jacket pocket.
    AURORA
    Did you wake me up, Jim?
    Jim's hand slides out of his jacket pocket. He shoots a stricken look at Arthur, who smiles back, oblivious. Aurora's eyes bore into him. Finally Jim finds his voice.
    JIM
    Yes. I woke you up.
    AURORA
    (in agony)
    How could you do it?
    JIM
    I tried not to.
    AURORA
    I'm going to be sick. No. I...I can't see.
    She gets up to leave. He goes after her.
    JIM
    Aurora.
    AURORA
    Get away from me!
    CELESTIAL PROMENADE Aurora paces in front of the windows, breathing hard. Muttering to herself.
    AURORA
    (under her breath)
    I can't get off the ship. There's no way off the ship.
    Jim appears behind her. A reflection in the glass.
    JIM
    Aurora.
    She stops. Turns on him.
    AURORA
    You bastard. How did you decide? Thousands of women in their underwear and you get to pick your favorite.
    JIM
    It wasn't like that.
    AURORA
    No? What was it like, Jim? What?
    JIM
    I didn't go looking. It just... happened. This was real.
    (desperately)
    Aurora. I love you.
    She laughs scornfully.
    AURORA
    No you don't. Show me how you did it.
    HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA'S POD Aurora walks up to her old hibernation pod. Jim trails her.
    AURORA
    So?
    Jim stares at her, unbelieving. But she means it. He opens the cover panel, points out the key components.
    JIM
    Short circuit these two contacts, then these two. And cut these wires.
    AURORA
    Just like that.
    JIM
    Just like that.
    AURORA
    I thought you saved me. But you didn't save me, Jim. You did this to me. And now I'm stuck with you. The second- rate mechanic who ruined my life.
    JIM
    (lamely)
    Rate two mechanic.
    AURORA
    You sick bastard.
    VIENNA SUITE Aurora walks in, barely under control. Pacing, furious. Grabs a lamp and hurls it across the room in a paroxysm of rage. Instantly a housekeeping robot scoots in from the other room, sweeps up the broken lamp and zips out again, leaving the room pristine. Aurora stares in disbelief at the spotless floor. She breaks down. Sinks to her knees, wracked by sobs. HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA'S POD - DAY Jim sits at the foot of Aurora's hibernation pod, staring into the empty tube. VIENNA SUITE Jim walks in. All Aurora's things are gone. She's moved out. CAFETERIA - MORNING Aurora sits finishing her breakfast. Jim enters and approaches her table. Her eyes are hard as stone.
    JIM
    Can I talk to you?
    AURORA
    I don't want to talk anymore. I don't want to look at you anymore. If you see me coming, get out of my way. If you see me sitting, find somewhere else to be. There's plenty of choices. It's a big boat.

INT. VIENNA SUITE - NIGHT
    Jim sleeps alone in the wide bed. Aurora enters. Stands over Jim in the starlight. Shaking. Suddenly she explodes into violence. Pummels his sleeping body with her fists. Animal sounds burst out of her: grunts, sobs, shouts. Jim curls into a ball under the sheets. Aurora leaps onto the bed. Delivers a few resounding kicks. And then she's gone. The door closes behind her. Jim sits up painfully, looking after Aurora in amazement. JIM'S WORKSHOP Jim sits in front of his laptop. He sports an impressive black eye. Aurora's accusing eyes stare out of the screen. He closes the laptop.

INT. COMMUNICATIONS CENTER - DAY
    Jim sits at the security console. Unshaven, his black eye fading. Twenty screens give different views of the ship. One screen shows an upper promenade of the Grand Concourse. As he watches, Aurora jogs by in sneakers and shorts. She runs out of frame on one screen - and into frame on the next. Jim is mapping her route. He looks thoughtfully at the public address microphone. GRAND CONCOURSE Aurora circles the atrium on her high promenade. OVER THE P.A. SYSTEM: Jim clears his throat.
    JIM (VIA INTERCOM)
    Aurora.
    Aurora stops in surprise, looking up.
    JIM (VIA INTERCOM)
    Please...hear me.
    Aurora rolls her eyes and resumes running. COMMUNICATIONS CENTER Jim watches Aurora move from screen to screen. He grips the microphone tightly: his voice reverberates through the ship.
    JIM
    I'm sorry. I was so alone for so long. It felt like I was disappearing. When I saw you, the first time I saw you... everything changed. You saved my life. You were so beautiful. I kept coming back. Every day. Just staring at you in there.
    That's not sounding right. He regroups and starts again.
    JIM
    I was trying...trying to know you through the glass. I read all your stuff, trying to hear your voice. When you woke up...
    GRAND CONCOURSE Aurora doesn't break stride. But she's listening.
    JIM (VIA INTERCOM)
    I had no idea what would happen. I had no reason to believe you'd see anything in me. When you did, it was like...I wasn't trapped anymore.
    CONCOURSE BAR Arthur looks up, listening, as Jim's voice echoes through the ship.
    JIM (VIA INTERCOM)
    My pointless life suddenly had meaning.
    GRAND CONCOURSE - UPPER PROMENADE Aurora runs faster now.
    JIM (VIA INTERCOM)
    Aurora. I don't want to lose you.
    Aurora skids to a stop beside a deck steward's station. Leans over the counter and grabs a P.A. microphone. She pivots in place: spots a security camera. Stares into the lens.
    AURORA
    Great. I'm glad destroying my life somehow improved yours. But I don't care why you woke me up. I don't care how you feel. You're a murderer. You don't want to lose me?! You lost me.
    COMMUNICATIONS CENTER Onscreen: Aurora drops the mic and strides out of frame. FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK - DAY Aurora sits reading. A whir distracts her. She looks down. Jim's pet robot sits beside her. A note on its back. She picks up the note. It's the photo strip from her first date with Jim: their first kiss captured on film. Clipped to the photo strip is a handwritten note: "This was real." Aurora leans down toward the robot's binocular eyes. ROBOT'S POV Aurora looms close.
    AURORA
    Watching me through a robot is creepy, Jim. Cut it out.
    She holds the photo strip up to the robot's eyes and tears it in two. FADE TO BLACK.: SUPER: THREE MONTHS LATER AURORA'S CABIN - MORNING An alarm clock rings. Aurora rolls out of bed and immediately begins making the bed. Hospital corners. VIENNA SUITE - DAY Jim lies asleep in his clothes and shoes. Five-day stubble. Dirty dishes in bed with him. The suite is squalid. A bottle of vodka on the nightstand. CAFE MAXINE The French restaurant. Aurora eats breakfast, reading a digital novel. A croissant, fruit, a cappuccino. VIENNA SUITE Jim still lies asleep. He wakes. Blinks the sleep from his eyes. Rolls out of bed and straps on his tool belt. Takes a swig from his vodka bottle. Shuffles out of the room. SWIMMING POOL - DAY Aurora stands at the end of the pool in her bathing suit, toes hanging over the edge. The water is perfectly calm. The moment grows long. She sighs, heavily, and dives in. JIM'S WORKSHOP Jim slouches in a chair beside his workbench, surrounded by half-assembled robots and machinery. He toys idly with a chunky microchip, visibly burned out. Tosses it into a pile of identical chips. Jim sighs. Looks around. The cart sits by the door. He looks at the cart. Picks up a blowtorch off his workbench and snaps it on. CORRIDOR Jim stands beside his cart. It's transformed. Jacked up on truck tires, a bank of extra batteries. An off-road dragster. Jim climbs aboard. Lowers a pair of welding goggles over his eyes. Hits the throttle. The cart shoots down the straightaway with a wail of rubber. GRAND CONCOURSE - SHOPPING DISTRICT Aurora jogs. But her heart's not in it. She comes to a halt. Not breathing hard: just sick of running. A rumble behind her. She looks around. GRAND CONCOURSE - SHOPPING DISTRICT Jim approaches the end of the concourse at high speed. A daredevil look on his face. He prepares to take the turn. He squeals around a corner - and finds Aurora right in his path. He dodges wildly and disappears down a stairwell. A long series of horrible crashing sounds. Stunned, Aurora takes a step toward the stairs. Hesitates. Turns away and resumes jogging. INFIRMARY Jim lies in the autodoc - his head protruding, his body visible behind glass. Lasers and sensors pass over him.
    AUTODOC
    Two separated ribs. Sprain of the right elbow. One dislocated thumb.
    JIM
    Am I gonna be okay?
    Blindingly fast, robotic hands straighten Jim's arm. Wrap his ribs and arm with white bandages. Jim shouts in shock.
    AUTODOC
    Leave the bandages on for one week.
    The autodoc opens and Jim climbs out, testing his arm.
    JIM
    Thanks, doc.
    He heads out.
    AUTODOC
    And take better care of yourself.
    CONCOURSE BAR - EVENING Aurora sits at the bar in front of a martini.
    AURORA
    I envy you.
    ARTHUR
    How so?
    AURORA
    You have a purpose. You're always happy. You don't want anything you can't have.
    ARTHUR
    Sure. But you've got legs.
    Aurora laughs bleakly.
    ARTHUR
    How's the book coming along?
    AURORA
    Fine. I'm working on it.
    (she sighs)
    Is this it, Arthur? Am I going to be sitting here in thirty years, drinking martinis and telling you how chapter three hundred twelve is going? I'll never make it. I'm not sure I can handle next week. I'm so tired. Tired of fighting myself.
    ARTHUR
    What are you fighting yourself about?
    Aurora shoots Arthur a naked look, as if the question cuts deep. But she doesn't answer.
    JIM (O.S.)
    Arturo!
    Jim walks in, his arm bandaged. Looks at Aurora in surprise.
    JIM
    Tuesday's my day with Arthur.
    AURORA
    Today's Wednesday.
    JIM
    I slept through Tuesday?
    A spasm of emotion in Aurora's face. She hardens.
    AURORA
    You're pathetic. The bar's all yours.
    She spins off her stool and stalks away. Jim watches her go. Sits down and drains her martini at a gulp.
    JIM
    I'm in hell.
    ARTHUR
    How so?
    JIM
    I woke her up, and I can't take it back. Can't send her home. Can't put her back to sleep. That's my whole life. Everything's broken and I can't fix it.
    ARTHUR
    You said you could fix anything.
    JIM
    I did?
    ARTHUR
    Well. You were drunk.
    JIM
    What do I do, Arthur? What am I supposed to do?
    ARTHUR
    What humans always do.
    JIM
    What's that?
    ARTHUR
    Improvise.
    PARIS SUITE Aurora looks through a collection of snapshots. Aurora's farewell party. She touches them one by one. They begin to move and speak. Good wishes. Laughter and cheers. Finally only one snapshot still plays. Aurora's mother.
    AURORA'S MOTHER
    I promise we'll think of you every day. When you wake up, I know we'll be gone. But you just know that we lived our lives remembering you, and holding you in our hearts.
    (She starts to cry.)
    You were never happy here. Nothing was ever enough for you. I know.
    (She tries to soldier.)
    I hope you find what you're looking for. I hope it makes you happy.
    Aurora watches, devastated. GRAND CONCOURSE - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT Jim is in the middle of some inscrutable work. A manual lies open nearby. He's diagrammed a wide square on the deck in chalk, with markers for electrical conduits and beams. Aurora walks down a promenade above him like a sleepwalker in her nightgown. Her hair half-unravelled, her face drawn. She stops at the railing. Looks down at Jim. He sees her. Her eyes meet his. Flicker over his diagram. Then she walks away. Jim watches her go. Turns back to his diagram. Pulls the laser cutter from his belt, switches it on. Kneels and starts cutting through the steel deck plates. HIBERNATION BAY - NIGHT Aurora walks down a row of sleepers in her nightgown, looking at their faces. She stops in front of an empty pod. Her own. On impulse she stoops and pulls at the canopy. It opens. Aurora steps into the empty pod. She curls up on the floor. Leans back. Closes her eyes. Tears run down her cheeks in the dim light. CONCOURSE BAR - DAY Jim, in work clothes and tool belt, drops by the bar. He's as dirty as a coal miner but he looks happy.
    JIM
    Morning, Arthur. Coffee.
    ARTHUR
    Coming up. Are you getting my barstool dirty?
    JIM
    Yeah. Got to get dirty to get things done.
    ARTHUR
    And what have you been doing?
    Jim takes a sip of his coffee.
    JIM
    Improvising.
    GRAND CONCOURSE - ELITE PROMENADE - DAY Aurora strolls listlessly. Glances over the railing at the Grand Concourse below - and gasps. GRAND CONCOURSE A fifteen-foot OAK TREE has been planted in the middle of the Concourse, surrounded by a bed of new grass. Aurora walks up, wide-eyed with wonder. Reaches out like a dreamer to touch the smooth bark of the tree. FADE TO BLACK.: SUPER: THREE WEEKS LATER

INT. ELEVATOR - DAY
    Jim descends in an elevator. He wears dirty work clothes and carries half a robot under his arm. Soothing music plays. The elevator jerks to a halt. The music stops. Jim looks up in confusion. The lights go out. Auxiliary lights come on. Jim punches buttons. Nothing. He pulls out his multitool. Pries at the doors.

EXT. ELEVATOR
    Jim squirms out head-first between the elevator doors, several feet above the floor. Climbs to his feet. As soon as he's out, the elevator chimes. The doors open: the car at floor level, music back on. Jim stares at the elevator indignantly. CAFETERIA Aurora walks in wearing slippers and pajamas. Her hair in a ponytail. She shuffles up to the food machines. Hits buttons. The cereal machine releases an avalanche of breakfast cereal. Aurora backs away in alarm. The flood of cereal continues. A sudden burst of static from the P.A. system.
    VOICE (VIA P.A.)
    This is Deck Chief Gus Mancuso.
    Aurora spins around in shock.

EXT. ELEVATOR
    Jim stares up at the P.A. speaker in amazement.
    VOICE (VIA P.A.)
    Who the hell planted a tree on my ship?
    The Grand Concourse! Jim sprints away down the corridor. GRAND CONCOURSE GUS MANCUSO stands at a deck steward's station, intercom mic in hand. A stocky man of 55, with a bristling mustache, wearing a crewman's coverall. Haggard and weary. He stares in consternation at the garden in the middle of the Concourse. Jim and Aurora race into the Concourse from opposite directions - Jim in his work clothes, Aurora in her pajamas. They see Gus and stop, dumbstruck. Jim and Aurora race into the Concourse from opposite directions - Jim in his work clothes, Aurora in her pajamas. They see Gus and stop, dumbstruck.
    GUS
    (pointing at the tree)
    Who did that?
    Jim raises a hand sheepishly. Gus shakes his head.
    GUS
    I can't even talk about that now. Who are you?
    JIM
    Jim Preston.
    AURORA
    Aurora. Aurora Dunn.
    GUS
    Gus Mancuso. Nice to meet you. Anybody else awake?
    AURORA
    No. Just me and him.
    GUS
    How long you been up?
    AURORA
    A year.
    JIM
    Two years.
    GUS
    Ouch.
    (looks them in the eye)
    You know what it means, right? There's no way back into hibernation.
    AURORA
    We know.
    GUS
    How far along are we?
    JIM
    Thirty-two years. Eighty-eight years to go.
    Gus blows air.
    GUS
    That's tough.
    (he shakes his head)
    Hibernation failure! They said it couldn't happen. Now three on one trip.
    Aurora shoots Jim a look. Gus doesn't notice.
    GUS
    Well, let's see how bad things are.
    COMMAND DECK Gus leads Jim and Aurora to the Bridge's armored hatch.
    JIM
    You have no idea how long I've been trying to get in there.
    Gus swipes his crew card through the lock and the door opens.
    GUS
    Now you're in. Don't touch anything.
    BRIDGE The computer consoles of the Bridge brighten as they enter. Gus walks from station to station, studying the screens.
    AURORA
    Is this where you work?
    GUS
    No, this is flight crew. I'm just a deck chief. But I can read the instruments. We're on course.
    GUS
    Whatever's wrong with the ship, NavComp's still minding the store.
    JIM
    Something's wrong with the ship?
    GUS
    Three pod failures? Something's wrong. Question is what.
    He turns to leave.
    AURORA
    Wait. What about turning the ship around? Can't we go back to Earth?
    Gus almost laughs.
    GUS
    We're doing forty percent of lightspeed! Turning back would take as long as keeping on.
    AURORA
    There has to be a way.
    GUS
    Sorry. We're going where we're going.
    Jim looks at Aurora: she's visibly crestfallen. Gus breaks into a racking cough.
    JIM
    You okay?
    GUS
    I always get a hibernation hangover, but this one's bad.
    GRAND CONCOURSE Gus walks with Jim at his elbow, Aurora following.
    GUS
    Two years! Any other trees I should know about?
    AURORA
    Look out!
    She leaps forward and pulls Gus back. Crash! A window-washing robot plummets from a high promenade and shatters on the deck - narrowly missing Jim. Gus lays a hand on Aurora's shoulder.
    GUS
    Thanks, darlin'.
    The robot lies buzzing and twitching. Gus looks at Jim.
    GUS
    You almost bought the farm!
    (looks down at the robot)
    Never seen a thing like that. You?
    JIM
    Not like that. But robots have been breaking down. This guy makes fifteen.
    GUS
    Fifteen?!
    AURORA
    The breakfast bar went crazy today.
    JIM
    And an elevator.
    GUS
    What?
    AURORA
    My door broke last week. I was trapped in my cabin for two days.
    JIM
    (astonished)
    You were?
    She just looks at him.
    GUS
    This is all bad news.
    GRAND CONCOURSE - TECH STATION Gus leads Jim and Aurora up to a steel pillar set in the Concourse wall. Presses a latch. The pillar swings open, revealing a diagnostic console. A tech station.
    GUS
    All right. There's sixteen of these tech stations on every deck.
    (pointing)
    Atmosphere panel. Electrics panel. Robot control node. Data net. Got it?
    Jim and Aurora nod, not sure where he's going.
    GUS
    Status lights on each unit. Green light good. Red light bad. No light really bad.
    (to Aurora)
    You walk decks one and two.
    (to Jim)
    You walk three and four. Check the lights and record what you find.
    He hands them each an electronic slate.
    GUS
    You get the idea?
    JIM
    Yeah.
    AURORA
    Okay. Got it.
    GUS
    I'm going down to the Hibernation Bay. Take a look at our pods.
    Jim and Aurora exchange glances.
    AURORA
    That should be interesting.
    HIBERNATION BAY - AURORA'S POD - DAY Gus kneels in front of the pod, examining the mechanism. He doesn't look well: sweating and panting as he works. Something he sees inside the machine makes him forget his discomfort. He stares, astonished.
    GUS
    I'll be damned.
    A sound behind him. Gus turns to find Jim, an electronic slate in his hands.
    GUS
    You're supposed to be making your rounds.
    JIM
    I finished.
    Gus looks from Jim to the pod mechanism and back again.
    GUS
    I looked at your pod. Very simple. The clock chip's burned out. Not supposed to happen, but it's simple.
    Jim fidgets. Starts to speak. Gus cuts him off.
    GUS
    My pod was complicated. A bunch of failures all at once. Whole thing went haywire. I think that's why I feel so bad.
    (points at Aurora's pod)
    But this pod...
    JIM
    Gus...
    GUS
    You did this.
    JIM
    Yeah.
    GUS
    I was thinking what a lucky son of a bitch you were, stuck with a beauty like Aurora. But it wasn't luck.
    JIM
    No.
    Gus sits down heavily, looking at Jim.
    GUS
    She knows?
    JIM
    She knows.
    GUS
    I could see there was some trouble between you. Damn.
    (he shakes his head)
    How long were you alone?
    JIM
    A year.
    Gus takes that in.
    GUS
    Still...
    JIM
    I know.
    Jim quietly lays his electronic slate down beside Gus. Gus starts putting his tools away. GUS'S WORKSTATION A deck chief's workroom, dominated by a display table for viewing maps and data. Gus stands looking at a holographic map of the starship. Breakdowns appear as red markers: dozens, on multiple decks. Gus works with a stylus: plucking information from the slate Jim gave him and posting it on the map: a new red marker forms everywhere he touches. Suddenly he coughs painfully. Leans heavily on the display.
    GUS
    You and me, old girl, we're not doing so hot.
    Aurora enters with a digital slate. Gus straightens quickly. She hands over her slate. Gus scans the page.
    GUS
    Same as Jim's. Breakdowns in every system. No connection between them.
    AURORA
    You saw the hibernation pods?
    GUS
    Yeah.
    AURORA
    So you know. What Jim did.
    Gus looks at Aurora. He doesn't want to get into this.
    GUS
    Yeah.
    AURORA
    And?
    She waits, trembling with righteous indignation. Gus looks away uncomfortably.
    GUS
    It's not my business.
    AURORA
    He woke me up! He took away my life. He let me believe...he made me...
    GUS
    I know. I can't defend it. But...
    (he shrugs helplessly)
    Look. A drowning man drags somebody down with him, you don't call it right. But he's drowning. A starving man steals a loaf of bread, what can you say? You should have starved?
    AURORA
    I would have starved.
    Gus looks at her solemnly.
    GUS
    Maybe you would have.
    She stands hunched in front of him, misery plain on her face. Gus looks at her. Steps forward hesitantly and takes her by the shoulders. She huddles in his arms, fists under her chin. Jim enters carrying a broken robot - it twitches in his arms.
    JIM
    This one makes sixteen.
    He stops, seeing Gus and Aurora. Aurora steps away from Gus. Suddenly no one knows where to look. The crippled robot twitches again in Jim's arms.
    GUS
    How about we get a drink.
    CONCOURSE BAR - EVENING Gus leads Jim and Aurora up to the bar.
    ARTHUR
    Chief Mancuso. Good to see you again.
    GUS
    Nice to see you too, Arthur. The usual.
    AURORA
    Me too.
    JIM
    Me too.
    They sit at the bar - Gus in the middle. Arthur sets a different drink in front of each of them. A beat of awkward silence, which Aurora deliberately breaks.
    AURORA
    Where you from, Gus?
    GUS
    Chicago. But I've lived aboard ship a long time. The Excelsior's made five inter-planetary runs, and I've been on every one.
    JIM
    How old does that make you?
    GUS
    Fifty-six.
    JIM
    But how long ago were you born?
    GUS
    Oh. Hang on...
    (he does mental math)
    About six hundred years ago. Most of that I lost to hibernation or relativity. Doesn't count. When I was sixteen I lied about my age and got on a lunar shuttle crew. A few years later I moved on to planetary ships. Made the Venus run a hundred times. Jupiter. Saturn. Then the gravity drive came along. Real spaceflight. I did everything I could to get onto an interstellar ship. I was thirty-six years old the first time I saw an alien sun. No going back after that. I've walked on seventeen planets in five solar systems.
    JIM
    That's incredible.
    AURORA
    Don't you feel homeless?
    GUS
    I'm a spacer. My home is where I am. You can't take much with you, so you don't get hung up on things. You have yourself. The things you do. The company you keep.
    His hands begin to tremble. He fumbles his glass, spilling liquor. Arthur swoops in and wipes up the spill with a smile.
    AURORA
    Are you okay?
    Gus clasps his shaking hands together to still them - a startled look in his eye.
    GUS
    I woke up hard.
    AURORA
    You should rest.
    GUS
    I think I will. Tomorrow morning, eight bells. At that tree of yours.
    Gus gives them a wave and walks off - leaving Jim and Aurora awkwardly together, an empty stool between them. They stare into their drinks. Look at each other.
    JIM
    (hesitantly)
    How are you?
    AURORA
    Stranded on a starship.
    She rises and walks away. GUS'S CABIN Gus leans on his desk, coughing into a handkerchief - leaving the cloth spotted with blood.

INT. AURORA'S CABIN - MORNING
    Aurora wakes. Rolls over and looks at the clock. It's seven. CORRIDOR Aurora emerges from her cabin in a robe. Pads down the hall. GRAND CONCOURSE Jim strolls in his work clothes, restless. Tool belt around his waist. A robot rolls past with a strange hitch in its drive. Malfunctioning. He frowns thoughtfully. SWIMMING POOL In a bathing suit, Aurora dives into the pool, cleaving the water cleanly and striking out in a crawl stroke. She reaches the end of the lane. Kick-turns and swims back... ...and the gravity cuts out. The pool heaves itself into weird humps and tentacles. Aurora flounders in the weightless water, trying not to drown. GRAND CONCOURSE (ZERO GRAVITY) In mid-stride Jim floats off the floor with a gasp of astonishment. He flails for a handhold and misses. Rises weightless into the atrium. GUS'S CABIN (ZERO GRAVITY) Gus snores, flat on his back. His blankets are tucked in tight: he stays in bed. Only his arms float off the mattress. SWIMMING POOL (ZERO GRAVITY) Aurora struggles inside a huge glob of water, desperate for air. In zero-gravity the water becomes a clinging syrup impossible to escape. GRAND CONCOURSE (ZERO GRAVITY) Jim rises past the third-floor promenade. Terrifyingly high. He unbuckles his tool belt. Hurls it away with all his power. The recoil sends him drifting slowly toward the promenade railings. He reaches for the fourth-floor railing - and the GRAVITY COMES BACK ON. Jim goes into free-fall. Catches the third-floor railing and slams into the wall, dangling above the Grand Concourse. SWIMMING POOL Aurora falls. Tons of water crash down into the pool in a thundering torrent. She splashes to the surface, gasping for air. Eyes wide with shock. CORRIDOR Jim strides down the hall. He has a nosebleed: he holds a cloth to his nose. An elevator opens ahead of him. Aurora bursts out, looking shaken. Her hair is wet, her clothing damp. She sees Jim.
    AURORA
    The gravity went away. I was in the pool.
    JIM
    You okay?
    Aurora shoots Jim a furious look. They arrive at Gus's door. She knocks forcefully.
    AURORA
    Gus!
    GUS'S CABIN The pounding wakes Gus from a deep sleep. He rises, groggy and weak. Opens his door. Sees Jim and Aurora outside: Aurora damp, Jim blotting a bloody nose.
    GUS
    What have the two of you been doing?
    INDUSTRIAL CORRIDOR A service corridor below the passenger decks. Gus, Jim, and Aurora emerge from an elevator. Gus is weak but determined.
    GUS
    Sounds like we lost the number three gravity generator.
    INDUSTRIAL CORRIDOR - #3 GRAVITY GENERATOR A massive humming machine. Jim and Aurora look at it in awe.
    AURORA
    How can that happen?
    GUS
    That's a good question.
    Gus opens up a control panel: red warning lights glow among the green ones. He points at a dark module.
    GUS
    Son of a gun. Control computer's burned out.
    Jim frowns thoughtfully at the gravity generator.
    JIM
    If this thing's burned out, why's the gravity back on?
    GUS
    Everything's networked. Number three went down, so number two and number four picked up the slack.
    GUS
    But now they're working too hard, so maybe they go down too. We've got to get number three back up.
    AURORA
    Let's do that.
    CARGO BAY - SHIP'S STORES Jim brings the cart to a stop at a massive door labeled SHIP'S STORES. Gus rides shotgun; Aurora in back.
    GUS
    Replacements down here for just about everything.
    Gus climbs stiffly out of the cart. Cards the door. It opens on a vast warehouse of pristine white cartons with Homestead Company logos. All labeled in bold print. SHIP'S STORES Jim pilots the cart down a long aisle.
    GUS
    Pull over there.
    The cart squeals to a halt. Gus hauls himself up, breathing hard. Approaches a stack of shelves and hits a button. A lift slides along the rack and stops beside him. Gus steps aboard.
    GUS
    Be right back.
    He touches a control and vanishes upward. INDUSTRIAL CORRIDOR - #3 GRAVITY GENERATOR A big white carton sits on the cart's cargo deck. Jim slides a computer module out of the carton. Gus leans on the cart, mopping his brow. Jim punches a release button. The burned-out module slides out of the generator. He unbolts it. Shoves it aside. Gus watches with keen interest.
    GUS
    Polaris multitool. You a pro?
    Jim slides the new module into place. Bolts it down.
    JIM
    Rate-two mechanic.
    He punches the release. The generator draws the new module in. It lights up immediately with a reassuring hum.
    AURORA
    Won't it just burn out again?
    JIM
    It's a brand new unit.
    AURORA
    But why'd it burn out in the first place? We haven't done anything about the real problem.
    Gus coughs hard. Wipes his mouth on his sleeve.
    GUS
    Girl's got a point.
    GUS'S WORKSTATION Gus, Jim and Aurora stand at the display table. A holographic map of the ship between them, with its swarm of red markers. Gus peers intently at the map - shaky and damp with sweat.
    GUS
    Been too busy looking at what broke to think about how it broke. But look. Every failure is a burned-out processor. Everything on board is thinking too hard. Why?
    He touches one marker after another, reading the text that pops up: diagnostic data.
    GUS
    All over the ship, all different systems. There's no pattern.
    AURORA
    What about when they happened? Can you look at this over time?
    Gus touches the table's controls. A graph appears, showing the failures over time: a sudden spike. Then a rising curve. A trickle that swells into a flood. Jim and Aurora look at each other through the display.
    GUS
    (horrified)
    It's a cascade failure.
    AURORA
    A what?
    GUS
    Cascade. Look.
    (he touches the graph)
    It started two years ago. Power surge. Fourteen failures in one day. Including hibernation pod 1498.
    JIM
    That's me.
    GUS
    That's you. Something big failed. Failed hard. So everything else on the ship picked up the load.
    Gus traces the shallow part of the curve with his finger.
    GUS
    But the load's too heavy. After a while, little things start burning out. Robots. Infomats.
    His finger rides up the rising curve of the graph.
    GUS
    Now it's the big players. Hibernation. Gravity. Life support. If we don't stop it...
    He traces the climbing curve to the top.
    AURORA
    I'm stranded on a sinking ship?
    GUS
    Whatever happened two years ago, that's the key. Gotta find the source.
    JIM
    Where do we look?
    GUS
    There's only a few things big enough to put this kind of load on the ship.
    ENGINEERING SECTION FIREWALL A massive bulkhead, striped with warning signs. An armored door labeled ENGINEERING SECTION leads inside. Jim drives up in the cart - Gus riding shotgun, Aurora in back. Gus leans out with difficulty, drawn and weak. Swipes his crew card through the lock. The door opens. ENGINEERING SECTION - ELECTRICAL PLANT A platform overlooks a vast industrial space filled with transformers and rectifiers, buzzing with power. The cart rolls in and stops on the platform. Jim and Aurora look in awe at the massive machinery. Gus rises from the cart with a sudden access of vigor. Stands at the railing.
    GUS
    (hoarsely)
    Now this is a starship.
    He sags against the railing and falls. Hits the deck hard.
    JIM & AURORA
    Gus!
    INFIRMARY Gus lies in a medical scanner. Jim and Aurora watch as the machine bathes Gus in light, sensors floating over his body.
    GUS
    What does it say is wrong with me?
    The scanner's display screen lists not one diagnosis, but hundreds: disorders, diseases, dysfunctions.
    JIM
    (hiding his horror)
    It's a few things.
    MEDICAL SCANNER
    Diagnosis complete.
    Gus hauls himself out of the scanner. Pulls a bathrobe on and comes around to look at the screen. He sees it and blanches.
    MEDICAL SCANNER
    Six hundred twelve disorders found.
    GUS
    What's the summary?
    MEDICAL SCANNER
    Pan-systemic necrosis. Progressive organ failure. Cause unknown.
    GUS
    (losing his temper)
    I'll tell you the cause. My goofy hibernation pod is the cause.
    AURORA
    What's the treatment?
    MEDICAL SCANNER
    No treatment known.
    They exchange troubled looks. Gus pivots the monitor so that only he can see the screen.
    GUS
    Prognosis.
    A series of images flickers over the screen, casting shadows on his face. Gus swallows hard and looks away.
    GUS
    How long have I got?
    Pill bottles clatter into a metal bin. Gus looks at them.
    MEDICAL SCANNER
    These sedatives will alleviate suffering in these final hours.
    Gus walks out. Jim and Aurora hurry after him. CORRIDOR Jim and Aurora find Gus already walking away. They fall into step on each side of him.
    AURORA
    Maybe it's not true. It's just a machine.
    GUS
    State-of-the-art machine. Anyway, I can feel it happening.
    JIM
    Gus...
    AURORA
    Where are you going?
    GUS
    (through clenched teeth)
    My cabin. I need a minute.
    He waves them away and walks off. They watch him go. GUS'S CABIN He studies himself grimly in the mirror: gaunt and sickly. Suddenly he pounds both his fists on the dresser top in a burst of rage.
    GUS
    Damn it!
    He leans on the dresser, breathing hard. He pulls his closet open. Inside hangs his dress uniform - a sharp-creased suit of navy blue, the chest brimming with medals and ribbons. Stars and planets.

EXT. GUS'S CABIN - DAY
    Aurora presses the doorbell and raps on the door. No answer.
    AURORA
    Gus! Gus!
    Beside her, Jim uses his multitool to remove the cover plate of Gus's door switch. Twists wires. The door opens.

INT. GUS'S CABIN
    Jim and Aurora rush inside - and find the room empty. They look around in surprise.
    JIM
    Where would he be?
    FORWARD OBSERVATION DECK Jim and Aurora find Gus sitting in an armchair in his dress blues. A lonely figure staring out at the vast sweep of space. They rush to him.
    AURORA
    Gus! Are you all right?
    Gus looks up at them. Speaks in a whisper.
    GUS
    Hurts. Should have taken the damn pills.
    JIM
    I'll get them.
    GUS
    No. Just sit with me.
    Aurora sits beside Gus. Takes his hand. Jim pulls up a chair. Gus gazes out at the cosmos. His voice is reedy and thin.
    GUS
    Space is a funny thing to love. When you're young, the stars are always out of reach. Then you get on a spaceship and get up there. But you're still looking out through a wall of glass. So you put on a spacesuit and go outside. But you're still wearing gloves, still looking through glass at something you can't ever touch. Hard way to fall in love.
    A long breath rattles out of him. He takes his shipcard from his pocket. Hands it to Jim.
    GUS
    My shipcard. It'll get you where you need to go. Jim. Fix the ship.
    JIM
    I will.
    GUS
    You two. Take care of each other.
    He turns to Aurora, slow and frail.
    GUS
    How do I look?
    Tears stream down Aurora's cheeks. She smiles at him.
    AURORA
    You look magnificent.
    Gus's head falls back on the headrest.
    GUS
    (whispering)
    Ladies love the dress blues.
    A breath sighs out of him, and he's gone. Jim looks at Aurora. Her face shines with tears. She still holds Gus's hand.

INT. AIRLOCK
    Gus lies on the deck in his dress uniform, hands folded on his chest. His eyes closed peacefully. Jim stands beside him, wearing a spacesuit. Jim hits a button. The airlock opens. The gravity cuts out. Gus floats off the floor. Jim drops to one knee beside him.

EXT. AIRLOCK
    Aurora stands watching through the porthole. She sees Jim guide Gus out through the door into the dark night of space.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR
    Gus drifts away among the stars. An endless silence.

EXT. AIRLOCK
    Aurora watches as the outer airlock door closes. Jim turns to look at her. Their eyes meet. She turns and walks away. CONCOURSE BAR Aurora arrives. Slouches onto a barstool. Utterly forlorn.
    AURORA
    Arthur, Gus is gone.
    ARTHUR
    Who?
    AURORA
    Gus! He's dead.
    ARTHUR
    Well, no point crying over bridges before they're hatched.
    AURORA
    What?
    ARTHUR
    So what'll it be, passenger?
    AURORA
    "Passenger?" It's me!
    Arthur's smile widens into a rictus grin. His head twitches.
    AURORA
    Arthur?
    Arthur slams forward across the bar with horrible violence - rictus grin frozen on his face - and lies inert, staring. Aurora backs away in horror into the... GRAND CONCOURSE Blue light floods the scene. Aurora looks up. The Concourse lights begin to race through their daily cycle - dawn to dusk to dawn in seconds. And then - Darkness as the Concourse lights fail completely. Aurora gasps in fear. She backs up to take in the scene, hyperventilating - and something grabs her. She screams. Auxiliary lights come on - dim spotlights all over the Concourse. Aurora stands in Jim's arms. He releases her gently. Tool belt over his shoulder and rigged for work.
    JIM
    Aurora.
    Aurora's relief is obvious - but she steps back from him. Collects herself.
    AURORA
    It's still spreading. It got Arthur.
    JIM
    I'm going down to Engineering. See if I can fix it.
    AURORA
    Just like that.
    JIM
    I know you don't want to talk to me, or even be around me. But...
    AURORA
    You want me to come.
    JIM
    Yeah.
    They look at each other across ten feet of air. Both scared.
    AURORA
    Okay.
    ENGINEERING SECTION FIREWALL Jim and Aurora arrive at the Engineering Section's armored door. Aurora carries an electronic slate.
    AURORA
    What are we even looking for?
    Jim swipes Gus's card through the switch. The door opens on a thundering darkness lit by flashing red emergency lights. A flickering labyrinth.
    JIM
    Something broken. Something big.
    ENGINEERING SECTION - ELECTRICAL PLANT A harrowing gauntlet of electrical equipment. Jim and Aurora move through the plant, dwarfed by the scale. ENGINEERING SECTION - PROPULSION Jim and Aurora stand under a titanic metal cone surrounded by complex machinery. A stencilled label reads STARBOARD ENGINE. Jim inspects a panel of indicator lights.
    AURORA
    Is it broken?
    JIM
    Seems okay. What's next?
    Aurora looks at the map on her electronic slate.
    AURORA
    Power plant. This way.
    INDUSTRIAL PASSAGEWAY - FIRST DOOR They arrive at a closed hatch. Jim swipes Gus's shipcard through the lock. It flashes red and refuses to open. Jim frowns. Tries again. No luck.
    AURORA
    What's the matter?
    JIM
    Can't get in.
    (perplexed)
    Gus's card should open any door.
    AURORA
    Try again.
    He tries it again. No effect. Aurora studies her map.
    AURORA
    We'll go around.
    INDUSTRIAL PASSAGEWAY - SECOND DOOR Another door. Jim swipes Gus's card: again the lock flashes red and refuses to open.
    JIM
    The whole section's closed off. Something's up.
    AURORA
    Isn't that what we're looking for? Open it.
    Jim raises his multitool and removes the cover plate of the door switch. Connects two contacts inside. The door opens. A howling gale drags Jim and Aurora inside.

INT. BREACHED COMPARTMENT
    Aurora and Jim tumble inside. The wind slams them together. Batters them against the deck. Jim falls on top of Aurora. They gasp for breath. Wind rages around them. They look up in horror at a puncture in the hull. It's a head- sized hole punched through from outside, jagged edges pointing inward. Air screams out into space. The door starts to slide shut behind them. Jim scrambles toward it, fighting the wind. Dives into the doorway. It clamps down painfully on his arm and shoulder - preventing it from closing. Air blasts in through the crack. Aurora lies gasping on the deck under the hole.
    JIM
    Aurora!
    He kicks her fallen slate across the deck to her. Aurora lunges for the slate. Rises to her knees and slams it over the hole. Air pressure pins it there. Wind whistles through the cracks. The pressure comes up. The door slides open, releasing Jim. He rips an emergency foamer from the wall and sprays epoxy foam over the puncture. The foam hardens instantly, sealing the hull breach and cementing the slate in place. They look at each other, catching their breath.
    JIM
    You okay?
    AURORA
    There's a hole in the ship.
    JIM
    More than one.
    He points. On the opposite wall, another puncture leads deeper into the starship.

INT. MACHINE ROOM
    Jim and Aurora enter cautiously. They see yet another hole, leading deeper into the ship.
    JIM
    (deadpan)
    This is bad.

INT. CORRIDOR
    Steel girders march down the corridor wall. A blackened hole pierces every girder. Jim and Aurora walk the passageway, staring at the damage. An ominous rumble grows louder as they go.
    AURORA
    What the hell is that?
    They arrive at the end of the corridor. There's a hole punched through a door marked FUSION REACTOR. Fiery light shines out. The deep rumble is louder here. They exchange a look. Jim cards the door. Ruddy light bathes their faces as the door opens. REACTOR CONTROL ROOM Jim and Aurora enter. Sweat rises instantly on their faces. The room is blistering. Metal creaks in the heat. To one side, the reactor's massive console. It's in chaos. Displays full of static, red lights flashing. TEMPERATURE CRITICAL. CONTAINMENT UNSTABLE. To the other side, a long narrow window looks into the reactor itself. Inside, a caged sun rages at its bonds. On the verge of meltdown. In front of them, a hole is blasted in the console. A meteor - a pitted orb of iron - lodged deep in a computer module. They stand terrified in the middle of the chaos.
    AURORA
    I guess we found it.
    JIM
    Yeah. Guess we did.
    Aurora edges up to the blasted console.
    AURORA
    Can you fix this? I thought you were more of a robots-and-refrigerators guy.
    (she looks at the reactor)
    We're going to die.
    Jim joins her, surveying the damage.
    JIM
    (hopefully)
    There's replacements for everything.
    (looks at the reactor)
    Or...we're going to die.
    CARGO HOLD Jim and Aurora roll through the stacks in the cart, reading the labeled shelves. SHIP'S STORES Aurora stands beside the cart, looking up. Jim descends into frame on a lift. A crate beside him. Jim grins.
    JIM
    Got it.
    REACTOR CONTROL ROOM Jim stands sweating in front of the console, multitool in hand. Sizing up the job. The replacement module sits waiting, ready to install. The ruined module is still in place: a few lights flicker on its displays. Aurora looks anxiously at it.
    AURORA
    Is that thing still running?
    JIM
    I don't know. Barely.
    AURORA
    (nervously)
    Maybe we shouldn't do this. Maybe it'll be okay.
    (off Jim's look)
    Okay, okay. Do it.
    Jim goes to work. His multitool whines - unfastening the lockbolts that hold the module in place. He pulls on the module. It won't come out. He looks into the crater: the meteor pins the module in place. He pries at the meteor with his multitool. It shifts. Jim grips the meteor and strains. It tears free. He stumbles back, the meteor in his hands. Electricity arcs inside the damaged module. The reactor roars. The caged sun swells and reddens, scorching the walls of its chamber.
    JIM
    No!
    Jim drops the rock. Drags the old module from its socket. He grabs the replacement module. Aurora joins him. Together they wrestle the new module into place. Jim bolts it down. Slams it home. It lights up. For the first time in two years the reactor is whole. Static vanishes from the displays. Flickering lights go steady. An electronic buzz resolves into a soothing voice:
    ANNOUNCER
    Warning. Temperature critical. Reaction mass limit exceeded. Venting reactor.
    They turn to the reactor window. A deafening boom makes both of them duck and cringe.
    ANNOUNCER
    Vent fail. Manual override required.
    An emergency control station rises out of the console: a cluster of instruments beside a chunky red lever.
    AURORA
    But we fixed it!
    ANNOUNCER
    Vent reactor. Manual override required.
    Jim goes to the vent station. Grips the red lever. Looks at Aurora and hauls the lever down. A deafening BOOM.
    ANNOUNCER
    Reactor vent fail. Vent tube door...
    JIM
    Come on!
    Jim pulls the lever again. BOOM.
    ANNOUNCER
    Reactor vent fail. Vent tube door non- responsive.
    A holographic image appears above the console, showing a schematic of the fusion reactor: the vent tube leading out into space. The tube is sealed by a massive door. The door flashes red. Jim touches the hologram. It zooms in on the vent tube door. Jim studies the mechanism - the light painting his face.
    JIM
    It's a door. I can open a door.
    Aurora looks at the hologram. Looks at Jim.
    AURORA
    How?

INT. ENGINEERING SECTION - MAINTENANCE AIRLOCK
    An industrial airlock surrounded by cabinets and storage lockers. A window looks out on the stars. Jim pulls on a spacesuit as Aurora watches in disbelief. Jim is scared but putting on a brave face.
    AURORA
    Do you know what you're doing?
    Jim takes a deep breath. Steadies himself.
    JIM
    I open the door. I get clear. You vent the reactor.
    He's struggling with the suit. Aurora helps him seal it up. He slings his tool belt over his shoulder.
    AURORA
    You "get clear?" What happens to you when that door opens?
    Jim ponders that. He grabs his laser cutter and cuts the door off the spacesuit locker. He hefts the heavy steel door on his arm.
    AURORA
    What are you doing?
    JIM
    Heat shield.
    (off her appalled look)
    It might help.
    He lugs the door to the airlock. Leans it against the wall. Aurora watches him in dawning realization.
    AURORA
    You're going to die out there, aren't you.
    JIM
    I'm hoping not.
    Aurora picks up his helmet and stands in front of him. For a moment they stare at each other.
    AURORA
    I can't live on this ship by myself.
    JIM
    It's going to be okay.
    Jim gives Aurora a handset communicator.
    JIM
    You can talk to me through this.
    Aurora puts on Jim's helmet. Speaks into the handset.
    AURORA
    Can you hear me?
    JIM
    (nodding)
    Can you hear me?
    His voice issues from the handset, tinny and small. She nods. A deep rumble. The floor shakes under their feet.
    AURORA
    You'd better go.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - MAINTENANCE AIRLOCK
    Jim eases out of the airlock - and out of the ship's artificial gravity. He hears only his own breathing, the purr of his ventilator, his own footfalls. He steps onto the hull, his grav boots sticking firmly - and his perspective wheels... ...until the hull becomes the ground beneath his feet. He walks across the window. Inside, Aurora stands in the ship's internal gravity. At right angles to him.

INT. WINDOW
    Aurora looks at the soles of Jim's boots, stuck to the glass. His space-suited body cantilevered impossibly away from her. She raises her hand to him. He nods and strides away.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - ATOP THE SHIP
    Jim rises into view over the horizon of the curving hull. A spacefaring knight with his shield and tools. We see the Homestead Company logo on his improvised shield, surrounded by a slogan: The Homestead Company: Your Future is Our Business.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - REACTOR CONTROL ROOM
    Aurora dashes into the control room. It's worse. The caged sun roars. Expanding metal creaks and groans. Sweat dampens Aurora's clothes in the blast-furnace heat. She touches the vent lever - and snatches her hand back with a cry. Too hot to touch.
    ANNOUNCER
    Containment failure imminent.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - VENT TUBE DOOR
    Jim arrives at the opening of the vent tube: a circular port twenty-five feet across. He anchors his tether. Steps inside.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    Jim. Where are you?

INT. REACTOR VENT TUBE
    Jim walks into the tube: a metal cavern lit by his suit's worklights.
    JIM
    I'm at the door.
    It looms in front of him: a huge metal IRIS DOOR. Jim twists a recessed handle in the tube wall. A panel recedes, creating a shallow alcove. He steps inside. Turns to find the manual release for the iris door. He twists the release to the OPEN postion. Nothing happens. He tries again, and again. The switch is dead. Jim snarls and drops to one knee. Cuts the switch panel away. The circuitry inside is charred and fused. REACTOR CONTROL ROOM Aurora takes off her shirt, leaving herself in a tank top. Wraps the shirt around her hand to insulate against the heat. Grasps the vent lever. Looks fearfully at the reactor.
    AURORA
    I'm ready. Just say when.
    REACTOR VENT TUBE Jim tears the fused circuitry away. Reaches deep into the mechanism of the door. Strains to see inside.
    JIM
    Hang on...
    AURORA (V.O.)
    It's getting bad in here.
    Deep in the mechanism, Jim sees something. He pulls his multitool. Snaps the flashlight on. Selects a tool setting and reaches into the machinery. Twists an actuator. The massive iris door opens. Bloody light shines out. Jim stares up the tube into the reactor itself. Only the failing containment field between him and the fire. Jim turns to go - but the iris door slides shut as soon as he removes his hand.
    JIM
    No!
    He reaches into the hole again. He twists. The door opens. Withdraws his hand. Instantly the door begins to close. He opens it again. Panic rising in his eyes. He tries to wedge his multitool against the actuator to keep the door open. No luck.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    What's going on?
    Jim swallows hard as the facts sink in.
    JIM
    Door won't stay open. I have to stay here.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    What? What do you mean?
    JIM
    I have to hold the door open.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    No. Get out of there.
    Jim looks into the reactor. Red light blazing on his visor.
    JIM
    I can't.
    REACTOR CONTROL ROOM Aurora stands panting in the heat, drenched in sweat.
    JIM (V.O.)
    Aurora. Vent the reactor. The door's open.
    AURORA
    I'm not going to do this. It'll kill you.
    JIM (V.O.)
    You have to.
    REACTOR VENT TUBE Jim crouches in the partial shelter of the alcove.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    No. This isn't what you said was going to happen.
    Jim drags his heavy shield over himself.
    JIM
    I know.
    His breathing echoes in his helmet. The thunder of the reactor is muffled and distant. He turns his head. Looks out of the tube. The stars shine cool and white outside.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    Get out of there.
    JIM
    I know what I'm doing.
    AURORA
    (horrified)
    Jim.
    JIM
    It's okay.
    AURORA
    (a protest)
    Jim!
    JIM
    (a plea)
    Aurora!
    REACTOR CONTROL ROOM A scream of tortured metal. The reactor window cracks, a faultline crazing the thick glass. It makes a sound like a gunshot. Aurora jumps violently.
    ANNOUNCER
    Containment failed.
    JIM (V.O.)
    Now!
    With a cry of anguish, Aurora drops the communicator and hauls the lever down with both hands.

INT. REACTOR VENT TUBE
    Fusing plasma blasts down the vent tube. It almost rips the heavy shield from Jim's arm. The metal melts and ablates. He clings desperately, huddled behind the metal slab. His grip slipping. He roars with the effort of hanging on.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - REACTOR CONTROL ROOM
    In front of Aurora, the captive sun is discharged from the ship in a cyclone of fire. She listens in horror as Jim's scream echoes from her handset on the floor.

INT. REACTOR VENT TUBE
    The final gust of burning plasma rips Jim from his nook and blasts him out into space.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - VENT TUBE DOOR
    Jim shoots out of the vent tube in a cloud of superheated plasma. His suit blackened in places by the heat. The shield on his arm glows cherry red. He reaches the end of his tether with a bone-jarring jerk, and the melted tether snaps. Jim hurls his shield away with all his strength. The force of his throw stops him dead in space. He hangs motionless, twenty feet from the hull. The ship no longer receding from him - but utterly out of reach. The luminous plasma ejected by the ship disperses, a vast web of burning filaments shining against the stars.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - REACTOR ROOM
    Aurora stands by the darkened reactor, drenched in sweat. The chaos is ended. Quiet restored.
    ANNOUNCER
    Vent complete. Commencing re- ignition.
    Aurora snatches up the communicator.
    AURORA
    Jim. Jim!
    In the reactor chamber, a new sun is born, growing from a seed of light into a bright golden orb. It hums soothingly.
    ANNOUNCER
    Reactor re-stabilized.
    But Aurora can't tear her eyes away from the communicator.
    AURORA
    Jim.
    A crackle of static.
    AURORA
    Jim?
    JIM (V.O.)
    I'm here.
    Joy floods Aurora's face.
    AURORA
    You okay? Where are you?
    JIM (V.O.)
    Off the port side.
    Aurora runs from the room.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - PORT SIDE
    Jim floats in space. His breathing echoes in his helmet. He assesses the damage: his spacesuit scorched and blackened. A faint hiss. There's a tiny jet of vapor venting from his left forearm. A leak. He covers the leak with his right hand - and notices a second leak on his right shoulder. He tries to reach the shoulder leak with his joined hands. It's impossible. The air gauge on his wrist shows his air supply dropping steadily. He looks at the ship. Warmth and safety twenty feet away. It might as well be a million miles. He's drifting slightly - moving aft past the windows. The realization triggers a sudden panic. Jim struggles foolishly to reach the ship, milling his arms to no avail.
    AURORA (V.O.)
    Jim!
    She arrives at a window. One hand on the glass, the other holding the communicator.

INT. WINDOW
    Aurora looks out. Jim hangs there, his white suit stark against the black sky. Still clutching his arm.
    JIM
    (tensely)
    Hey.
    He waves awkwardly. Aurora waves back, grinning.
    AURORA
    You did it! Come in!
    JIM
    I can't.
    AURORA
    (her smile vanishes)
    Are you hurt?
    JIM
    No. My tether broke. I can't get back to the ship.
    AURORA
    Well, don't you...I mean, can't you...

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - PORT SIDE
    Jim is falling astern more noticeably now. Aurora walks along the windows, pacing him without realizing it.
    JIM
    I don't have jets. I don't have anything left to throw. I can't get back to the ship.
    He's breathing hard. Realizing how thoroughly screwed he is.
    AURORA
    I'll pull you in somehow.
    JIM
    The ship's accelerating. In a minute or two I'm gone.

INT. WINDOW
    Keeping pace along the window, Aurora stares at Jim in dawning horror.
    AURORA
    Jim.
    JIM
    This is a stupid way to die.
    AURORA
    No. No.
    She comes to the end of the wide window. Runs to the next.
    AURORA
    Where's the last airlock?
    JIM
    Deck Six. All the way back. But listen...
    Aurora turns and sprints toward the rear of the ship.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - DECK ONE
    Aurora runs aft. Flying. Faster than we've ever seen her.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - PORT SIDE
    The true immensity of the starship becomes plain as Jim glides past. Hundreds of windows. Air hisses out of his suit at the shoulder. Jim wiggles his jaw against the pressure in his ears. His teeth chatter. A rime of frost on his visor. The end is in sight: the stern of the ship approaching fast.

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - DECK SIX - AFT AIRLOCK
    Aurora rips open a locker. Drags a spacesuit out. Wriggles into it, frantic with haste and fumbling. The communicator buzzes on the floor beside her.
    JIM (V.O.)
    I'm running out of ship.
    AURORA
    I'm going as fast as I can!
    JIM
    Aurora.
    AURORA
    Yes?
    JIM
    I'm sorry. Sorry for everything.
    He's saying goodbye. Aurora gets the suit sealed. Jams a helmet on.
    AURORA
    Shut up. I'm coming.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR
    Jim looks out at the void with fading eyes. The last of his breath escapes in a puff of white vapor. He passes out. Goes limp. Tumbles along the hull.

INT. AFT AIRLOCK
    Aurora slams into the airlock.
    AURORA
    Jim. Jim! Talk to me.
    She fastens her tether to an anchor in the airlock. Pulls a lever. The external door shoots open with a blast of air. She sees Jim tumbling through space - already past her.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - AFT AIRLOCK
    Aurora dives out of the airlock, arms outstretched. She rockets toward Jim - but her tether jerks her to a stop just before she reaches him. Horrified, she watches him drift away from her toward deep space...
    AURORA
    No!
    Then the trailing end of his tether whips across her field of view. She catches it one-handed. The tether goes taut, jerking her after Jim. She swings hard against the hull. Grunts with the impact but keeps her grip. Jim trails behind the starship, dead weight. She reels him in hand-over-hand until she can get her arms around him. Jim's face is blue. His eyes wide and staring. Ice crystals on his eyeballs. Aurora screams.
    AURORA
    Jim!

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - AFT AIRLOCK
    Aurora topples out of the airlock back into the ship, dragging Jim inside. She lays him on the deck. Wrenches off her helmet and then his. He looks dead and frozen.
    AURORA
    Jim!
    INFIRMARY Aurora drags Jim across the room, at the limit of her strength. Wrestles his body into the autodoc. The frost on his skin has melted, but he's deathly pale. Not breathing. She stabs at the control panel. A soothing voice responds.
    AUTODOC
    I'm sorry. The patient is dead.
    AURORA
    (incredulous)
    Well, resuscitate him!
    AUTODOC
    Post-mortem operations require authorized medical super...
    AURORA
    Override!
    A menu of options fills the screen: DEFIBRILLATION, OXYGENATION, ALPHA WAVE STIMULATION, INSANGUINATION, and so on. Aurora punches every option.
    AUTODOC
    Multiple procedures are not recommended...
    AURORA
    Override, you stupid machine! Do it! Now! Now! Now!
    She batters the autodoc with her hands.
    AUTODOC
    Executing!
    Inside the autodoc, a storm of medical instruments descends. In a split second Jim is intubated, laced with intravenous lines, blanketed with sensors. His body is jolted by electricity. Bombarded with ultrasound. Massaged by magnetic fields. He convulses and shudders. It's violent. Ghastly. Aurora watches with her hands over her mouth, afraid of what she's done. Afraid it won't work. The instruments withdraw. Jim lies pale and lifeless. After an endless moment he draws a deep, ragged breath. Aurora wrenches the autodoc open, luminous with joy. He opens his eyes. Groggy, blinking, seeing nothing. Aurora looks at him from inches away.
    AURORA
    Jim.
    Jim swims back into focus. Draws a deep breath. He takes in his surroundings. Aurora leaning over him.
    JIM
    You brought me back.
    AURORA
    Yeah.
    She kisses him, delicately, her hands on his face. The strength returns to Jim's arms: he pulls her close. FADE TO BLACK.: FUSION REACTOR CONTROL ROOM The fusion reactor rumbles, its artificial sun restored to balance. All the dials and gauges in the green. Power flows like a river into the ship. HIBERNATION BAY We float across rows of passengers sleeping in their pods. Peaceful faces. A soft hum of nurturing machines. GRAND CONCOURSE - CONCOURSE BAR - DAY Arthur polishes the bartop, humming to himself. Cleaning robots patrol the concourse: sweeping, dusting, polishing. Their dance restored to its former perfection.

EXT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR
    The ship soars across the starscape, all its windows shining. Perfect once more. The blue jewel of the swimming-pool window slides by.

INT. SWIMMING POOL
    The lights are dimmed. Aurora swims the length of the pool, stars shining through the water. At the end of the pool, Jim waits in the water. She glides into his arms. They kiss. Turning, they cling to the edge of the pool, and stare out at the sea of stars. For a long moment they give themselves over to the beauty of it. She looks at him.
    AURORA
    Hell of a life.
    Jim looks back at her with a slow grin.
    JIM
    Hell of a life.
    They pull each other close. Look together out the wide window at the glittering infinity of space. FADE TO BLACK.: SUPER: EIGHTY-EIGHT YEARS LATER

INT. STARSHIP EXCELSIOR - CREW HIBERNATION FACILITY
    A double row of hibernation pods. One by one, they open. A chorus of electronic voices rattle off ship's status reports as the crew members awaken. One by one the crew members step from their pods - including THE CAPTAIN, a bearded bull of a man in a crew coverall. CAPTAIN'S QUARTERS A large, austere cabin. The Captain finishes buttoning his imposing uniform. The door opens behind him. A young ENSIGN ducks into the room, looking like he's seen a ghost.
    ENSIGN
    Captain. You need to see this.
    GRAND CONCOURSE - DECK FOUR PROMENADE The Captain walks up to the railing and looks out into the Grand Concourse - an expression of wonder on his face. A handful of young officers trails behind him, equally amazed. The OAK TREE towers a hundred feet tall in the Concourse. Its branches brush the skylight far above. A blue-green planet looms outside, bathed in golden sunlight: Homestead II. Beneath the oak tree, a cottage stands, hand-built and homey. Windowed and shingled as if it were built in a meadow, not a starship. Roses grow against the walls. The door stands ajar. In front of the cottage are two flowerbeds. GRAND CONCOURSE - GARDEN The Captain walks up, speechless with astonishment. The flowerbeds are clearly graves. A window-washer robot waters them; a modified sweeper robot trims errant leaves. On a bench beside the flower patches lies a beautiful hand- bound book. In the Blink of an Eye: Our Lives Between the Stars, by Aurora Dunn. The Captain picks up the book. Opens the cover. Sees a handwritten dedication: For Jim. He turns the printed pages in wonder. Comes to a bookmark and stops: it's the photo strip of Jim and Aurora from their first date. Carefully mended where it was torn. Four pictures of Jim and Aurora together. They laugh. They clown. She kisses him. Aurora looks into the camera's eye. Jim looks at Aurora. FADE OUT.: THE END.:

Summary: The Avalon, a sleeper ship transporting 5,000 colonists and 258 crew members in hibernation pods, is traveling from Earth to the planet Homestead II, a 120-year journey as part of a mass exodus of Earth's population due to ecocide and the collapse of the biosphere. After only 30 years, an asteroid collision damages the ship despite its defense systems, causing a malfunction that awakens passenger Jim Preston, a mechanical engineer, 90 years too early. After a year of isolation, with only an android barman named Arthur for company, Jim grows despondent and contemplates suicide until he notices Aurora Lane, a beautiful young woman inside a pod. He views her video profile and is smitten. He considers reviving her for companionship, but struggles doing so, knowing it is morally wrong and will circumvent her intended life on their destination planet. He eventually awakens her, letting her believe it was also a malfunction. He tells Arthur to conceal what he has done. Devastated at having to live out her life on the ship, Aurora unsuccessfully tries to re-enter hibernation. Resigned to the situation, Aurora, a writer and journalist, begins writing about her experience. Over the next year, the two fall in love. Just before Jim intends to propose to Aurora, Arthur inadvertently reveals the truth about her awakening, after Aurora tells him that she and Jim do not keep secrets from one another. A distraught and enraged Aurora berates, shuns, and even physically attacks Jim. She furiously rejects his apologies and avoids contact with him. Sometime later, another pod failure awakens Gus Mancuso, a deck chief officer. Using Gus' personnel code, the group accesses the ship's bridge (which Jim unsuccessfully tried to breach). They discover multiple cascading failures throughout the ship's systems, but the computer does not reveal the cause. If left unrepaired, the ship will inevitably fail, causing the passengers and crew to perish. Gus realizes that Jim awakened Aurora; Gus does not condone Jim's actions but understands, and tells Aurora that a "drowning man" (meaning the suicidal Jim) will grab onto any lifeline. When Gus falls critically ill, the ship's automated medical suite, the Autodoc, diagnoses pansystemic necrosis and gives him hours to live. Gus attributes it to his hibernation pod's multiple failures. Before dying, Gus gives Jim and Aurora his ID badge and employee code to access crew-only areas, so he and Aurora can try to repair the ship. Jim and Aurora find hull breaches from the asteroid collision two years earlier. The computer module administering the ship's fusion reactor power plant has been critically damaged, causing the cascading malfunctions as the other systems' computing power was diverted in an attempt to maintain it. They replace the damaged module, but when the computer attempts to vent the reactor to extinguish a runaway plasma reaction, the exterior vent fails. Jim is forced to spacewalk and vent the plasma from outside, using the manual controls in the vent tube. Jim discovers that he must remain in the tube to keep the vent open while Aurora initiates venting from inside the ship. Revealing her enduring feelings for him, she admits she is terrified of losing him and being left alone. Jim improvises a heat shield and survives the venting but is blasted out into space as his tether snaps, and his damaged spacesuit begins losing oxygen. Aurora retrieves a clinically dead Jim from space and resuscitates him in the Autodoc. The Avalon, its reactor repaired, returns to normal operations. After burying Gus in space, Jim learns the Autodoc can function as a hibernation pod for one person, and Jim insists that Aurora use it for the remainder of the voyage. Realizing she would never see Jim again, she chooses to remain awake with him. He presents her with the makeshift engagement ring he made earlier, which she accepts. Eighty-eight years later, the ship's crew awakens on schedule, shortly before arrival at Homestead II. In the ship's grand concourse, they discover a huge tree with trailing vines, lush vegetation, flying birds, and a small cabin. A recording of Aurora's story describes the wonderful life she and Jim shared on the Avalon.