seaQuest 2047 "Crossover" Story by Ray Stilwell & Victoria Morgan Hyde Script by Ray Stilwell Thursday, November 14, 1996 Second Draft Based on "seaQuest DSV" and "seaQuest 2032". _The Four Disclaimers_ (1) This is a work of fiction. (Uh-DUH!) Any resemblance to actual persons or events, living or dead (and if there's one thing we hate it's a dead event) is entirely coincidental, except in the instances where everybody will be able to tell it was intentional. And _they_ are all public figures so there's nothing they can do about it. Nyah nyah nyah. (2) This is also a work of spoof. Everything was fair game and consequently shot at in the spirit of flattering by imitation and of good clean fun. Nobody is expected to "get" every reference in this episode, but our intention was for everybody to "get" a good deal of it. (3) The very serious scientists at CPSI, those wild and crazy guys who took away your movie popcorn, Chinese food and date nights at Fridays, have now identified spit-takes as the next major public health concern involving the having of fun. Accordingly, to avoid a major boycott of our site, we must warn against the consumption of food and beverages during the reading of this episode. The authors assume no responsibility for tracheotomies or any damage to keyboards, monitors or carpets caused by any failure to heed this warning. (Red soda is flat out.) We would also avoid the operation of heavy machinery or nuclear submarines for several hours after finishing. (4) All opinions expressed in "Crossover" are well-reasoned and insightful. Needless to say, they are not those of the 2047 producers or staff at large, the UEO, NBC, MCA, mgl.ca, Geocities, the International House of Radio, or any of their members, affiliates or lackeys. Anyone who says otherwise is itching for a fight. The authors wish to offer their heartfelt thanks (and apologies where appropriate) to the many creative talents whose original or derivative works are drawn upon in this script, but particularly to: Rachel Brody and Melissa Beattie, whose own venture into parallelism was a major inspiration; and Tim Johnson, whose usenet posting of "Star Trek: the series that never was" made Act Three a better place to be. TEASER OPEN ON REC ROOM Ensign Rebecca Trueman and Chief Petty Officer Sara Percell are seated next to each other. Before settling on the two of them, a slow pan across the room reveals some non-coms playing chess, reading the _Sports Illustrated_ wetsuit issue ("Rubber on the Reef!") and the UEO Gazette ("NAVY CAPTAIN CLAIMS: ALIENS ABDUCTED ME!!!"), and having a quiet but animated discussion of issues of the day. Trueman is focused on a computer screen, while Percell is wearing a virtual reality visor connected to another terminal, tilting her head to and fro and humming a recognizable (and public-domain) song identified with a '70s or '80s movie or TV show. TRUEMAN (to Percell, mock-annoyed but with a smile) Do you _mind_?! PERCELL (mildly embarrassed) Ummm... sorry. You get so into these things, you forget you're really someplace else. TRUEMAN (curious) Why are you down here, anyway? I thought you had thousands of movies in your quarters. PERCELL Four thousand and six, but who's counting? (beat) No, those disks don't work with the new VR programming. TRUEMAN You're almost as bad as Justin, with all those high-end audio toys he's always talking about. (beat, thinking about it) Wait a minute. How does the VR work with movies? PERCELL It's brand new technology. Holomation is nice, but these are completely interactive. She hands Trueman a couple of the disks. PERCELL (continues) The programmers have written hundreds of variations for each script-- you pick the disk you want, select one of their starting points _if_ you want, put on the helmet, and (in a television announcer voice) _you are there_. Trueman looks the disks over carefully. TRUEMAN (skeptically) But these are _old_. Why are they mixing this state-of-the-art stuff with movies and TV shows from the '80s? PERCELL (trying to be patient) It's the damn lawyers. EWS owns the copyright on just about everything, and the licensing fees for adapting anything from the past fifty years are staggering. So UEO went with just the material that's out of copyright. (beat) You want to try it when I'm done? TRUEMAN (shrugging) Maybe later. I've been going back in time myself over here, looking over some old logs from the _4600II_. (pauses, looks at screen) Ver-ry inn-teresting, some of this. (beat) It makes you wonder if we're just doomed to repeat history because we didn't learn enough of it the first time. PERCELL (wryly) I know what you mean. If I get caught singing once more on the bridge, _I_'m gonna be doomed to-- TRUEMAN (cutting her off, intent on her monitor) _What_ the hell is _this_? Percell disconnects the headset and starts reading over Trueman's shoulder. CUT TO MESS HALL Captain Lucas Wolenczak is seated alone at a table for four. Trueman walks in, happily, but cautiously. TRUEMAN (hesitantly) Captain, permission to speak freely? Wolenczak pushes his tray aside and indicates a chair. WOLENCZAK Of course, Ensign. TRUEMAN (unsure about where to start) Well, sir,...it's about... Wolenczak encourages her. WOLENCZAK (reassuringly) Whatever it is, Ensign, you were right to come to me. No questions asked-- TRUEMAN (seizing the opportunity) Okay. I've been doing some historical research on the last _seaQuest_, and I came across some very interesting references about some...black hole formations...and I think you might know more about them than the records are saying. WOLENCZAK (caught off-guard; he wasn't expecting _this_) There's a reason for that, Ensign. (beat) I know I gave you permission to speak freely, but I think we'd better finish this discussion in private. As they make their way to the door, we... CUT TO REC ROOM Percell has the visor back on, not singing this time, but laughing a couple of times and making some distinct "arr arr arr" noises. Lieutenant Commander Greg Callan enters holding a PAL in his hand, looking partly confused, partly distressed. He taps Percell on the shoulder, who jolts, then removes the visor. CALLAN Good stuff? PERCELL (enthusiastically) Nineties tv show. Get this--they've got this guy, who's so clumsy he couldn't fix a sandwich, and he does a fix-it show on television! And he's got this neighbor who's always hiding behind a fence, and... Callan isn't really interested. He's got his own problems. CALLAN ...Um, I guess you had to be there. Have you seen Ensign Trueman? She only went off duty half an hour ago, and they said she came straight down here. PERCELL (reserved, but short of evasive) Uh, yeah, she... I think she had to go find the captain. (beat) Some personal matter. CALLAN Oh. (gazes at terminal Trueman had been using) It looks like she's planning on coming back down here, so can you have her-- (pauses, not sure how to say this) --I guess come see me down in engineering--unless I've got these stupid things fixed before she gets back. He whacks at PAL in his palm, producing an unpleasant sequence of beeps and squeals not unlike the sound of a somewhat older "handlink" device. CALLAN (continuing) Geez, with the amount of memory allocated to these things, you'd think they could run forever, rub their heads and pat their stomachs all at the same time. (beat) Just tell her I'm trying to get the PALs back up as soon as I can. (Starts to exit, then...) Oh, and can you ask her if she's heard anything from my wife? It's been days. PERCELL (rolling eyes) Aye aye, Husband! CUT TO COMMERCIAL END TEASER ACT ONE OPEN ON WOLENCZAK'S OFFICE Wolenczak is at his desk; Trueman is seated across from him. The discussion is clearly in progress and Trueman is losing the battle. TRUEMAN But, Sir.... WOLENCZAK (firmly) I'm sorry, Ensign, but there are rules and procedures and chains of command, and at the moment you are flat-out on the bottom. (beat) I can't tell you any more than I already have, and I can't allow you to pursue this any further. TRUEMAN (objecting) But the potential...it's limitless! WOLENCZAK So is the potential for trouble and abuse. Trust me. I was _there_ the last time. He pauses, clearly recalling something dangerous. WOLENCZAK (continues) I have to ask you to drop this inquiry. And I also need to know how you even found out about the project. TRUEMAN I just stumbled onto the logs when I was... WOLENCZAK (suspiciously) Stumbled? Or do you mean searched for? TRUEMAN (hurt) Please, Captain. You _were_ there, so you know how impossible everything was during those years. I can hardly find my way through some of those logs without having to reconstruct data. (beat, becoming a little agitated) This isn't the first thing I've seen that I would have classified, and I've seen menus from the ship's galley that were labeled "top secret"! WOLENCZAK (grinning) Right. The tuna surprise file. There was a reason for that. (back to business, turning to a computer console) Well, this is one file that _should_ be classified-- He types a few commands. WOLENCZAK (continuing) --And now is. Your orders are to stay out of that file, Ensign. Is that clear? TRUEMAN (defensive) I understand your orders, Captain, and I'll follow them...to the letter. WOLENCZAK Very well. Dismissed. Trueman exits, keeping a "game face" on until she's out of the room, then looks down knowingly at one of Percell's disks in her hand-- "VR2047, Program 8" is printed on the disk label, with "2032-Log ?" written in handwriting across it. CUT TO REC ROOM Percell is back "online" with the visor on. Trueman comes in and taps her on the shoulder gently. After a bit of a start, she pushes some keys to pause the program, but leaves the visor on. PERCELL Well? TRUEMAN (excited, but keeping a lid on it) Well, he's not saying much, but we're clearly onto something here. PERCELL Can we go ahead and look into it? Trueman straddles her chair, leaning on the back as she talks with Percell. TRUEMAN (hesitating, then "finding the words") There's...nothing else in the logs that will help us, but... (beat, handing the disk back to Percell) I think everything we need to know is on here, anyway. Percell hits some keys, switches the disk with the one Trueman now hands her, and gazes intently for a few seconds. PERCELL (excitedly) Of course...of course! A child could do it. A child! TRUEMAN What do we need? PERCELL (enthusiastically) We need to get down to the engine room. I'm going to need some help with Greg, and from Morgan, if you think she'll help us. TRUEMAN (thoughtfully) Anne? Yeah--she's all right. But we have to do this fast. PERCELL (puzzled) Why do you want to rush? This is serious business we're getting into here. TRUEMAN Because I don't want the captain to have any time to worry about this. Percell removes the headset and they exit, as we zoom on the terminal, still connected to the headset, and see a split screen. One side contains data clearly related to the experiment the ensign and CPO are investigating--several lines of calculus and physics abbreviations. The other side is written in "source code" style and should include, among other references, the following lines: Goto seaQuest dsv; call NBC; cancel. CUT TO ENGINE ROOM Callan is on duty. Trueman approaches him. TRUEMAN (all business) Vidlink coming in from your wife, Sir. CALLAN (dropping everything) Thanks...I'll...take it in my quarters. He exits hastily. Percell and Ensign Anne Morgan enter with a string of equipment and set up around main engines. Assorted noncoms look puzzled but do not challenge them. PERCELL (to Morgan) Is this everything we need to make this work? MORGAN It'll create an ionizing stream, all right, but I have no way of knowing what will happen then. PERCELL (singing) "That's not my department," says Verner von Braun. TRUEMAN and MORGAN (unison) Huh? PERCELL Never mind. Old joke. Now look. If this works, I've got a program running on the system that'll reverse the ionization in about an hour and bring us back. Just check in an hour and make sure we haven't beamed into a sheet of solid rock, okay? MORGAN (letting that last allusion pass) I still don't understand what this is supposed to accomplish. (beat) _Assuming_ it works. TRUEMAN (patiently) Look, Anne. The logs talked about being able to pass through a dimensional shift. Now we can't control where we go, but what have we got to lose? (beat, thoughtful) We could go fifty years in the past and prevent this miserable conflict with the Carolinans, or fifty years in the future and bring back the technology to win it. Besides, it's going to be a helluva lot of fun--even if all we do is observe! MORGAN (agitated) But what about non-interference? Disruption of time lines? Haven't you ever heard of the Prime Directive? TRUEMAN (looking at her like she believes in the tooth fairy) Aw, c'mon, Anne...this is reality! Percell has been setting up and checking equipment during this discussion. She now turns to Trueman. TRUEMAN Ready? PERCELL As ready as I'm gonna be today. TRUEMAN (to Morgan) One hour. Wish us luck. MORGAN Luck. Morgan exits. Percell pushes a button on a computer console. A black hole forms, fluctuates and finally engulfs the two crewmembers. Static is heard, blue light traces are seen, but Percell and Trueman are not. CUT TO EXTERIOR _SEAQUEST_, CGI The ship is seen jolting. CUT TO REC ROOM The screen on Percell's terminal shows the split-screen effect of earlier, then a vertical-hold "jump" is followed by the two sides combined into one screen of alternating lines of scientific formulas and computer source code. After several seconds of these lines going by, enter Lieutenant Wilson. Wilson is only seen from the rear from off-shoulder; he looks at the console, enters the command RESET on the screen, settles back comfortably, and puts the visor on. CUT TO BRIDGE All are at stations, except Trueman and Percell, whose places are filled by extras. Morgan's station is empty. WOLENCZAK (concerned) Tactical. Report. RILLER Nothing in the area, Sir. That disruption came from inside the ship. WOLENCZAK (mildly upset) Inside?! Is there an engine failure? REEDE Negative, Sir. We are under power and all shows normal. WOLENCZAK (to extra at communications station) Get me Callan in Engineering. I want to know what's going on down there. CUT TO CALLAN'S QUARTERS Callan is focused the image of Kelly on his vidlink screen. They both look puzzled. CALLAN (insistently) No, sweetie. I'm telling you, I've been trying to be a real good boy and not interrupt you every five minutes. Our communications officer told me personally that there was a message coming in from _you_. KELLY (sweetly, but not without annoyance) And I'm telling _you_ Doctor Hessemann called me out of a panel discussion ten minutes ago to tell me _I_ had an important message coming in from _seaQuest_. CALLAN (shaking his head) This makes no sense. (beat) Our communications have been fried for two days now. I've been spending every free minute trying to get the PALs working again... He tries another slam at the PAL in his hand, resulting in more beeps and squeaks. CALLAN (continues) I love you dearly, but _I_ would not be calling _you_ at this time of the day. VOICE (over main ship's communications) Lieutenant Commander Callan, please report to Engineering. CALLAN I'm sorry, honey, but it felt a moment ago like we just hit something. I've checked the status monitors and everything seems fine, but I have to find out what's going on here. You done by 1900? KELLY I'll try. I'll call you. They quickly make their usual gesture of parting before Callan snaps off the monitor. CUT TO BRIDGE, _SEAQUEST DSV4600II_ In a brief flash of blue light, Trueman and Percell appear near the back of the previous _seaQuest_'s bridge. They look around quickly, amazed, and quickly duck down behind Darwin's tank. Their sudden entrance goes unnoticed by the crew, whose attention is all on the business at hand. HUDSON (concerned) What do you _mean_ we're being followed? There's no ship in either fleet that can keep up with us! O'NEILL I don't know how to explain it, Sir. Hudson rushes over, yanking O'Neill from his chair and leaving him sitting on the floor. HUDSON (irate) When are you going to learn I won't accept that answer, Lieutenant?! O'Neill shakily rises with a "not again" look on his face, straightens his glasses, and checks his displays. Before he can speak, Henderson butts in. HENDERSON We are being matched move for move and speed for speed by an ancient vehicle propelled by an internal combustion engine. HUDSON Can you identify it? HENDERSON Its exterior markings indicate its name is... is... (staring at monitor) The _MustSeeQuest dtv_ HUDSON (puzzled) Any known references to that in the ship's computers? O'NEILL (casting a dirty look in Henderson's direction) On it, Sir... He types, then reads from his console. O'NEILL (continues) A craft by that name was registered to an entity that seems to have been in the business of making... (beat, unsure) ...lightbulbs and toasters? HUDSON Gee! FORD Right, Sir! (beat, clarifying) Actually, the record owner is a subsidiary of theirs, an N...B...C company, that seems to have also been in the cookie business. PICCOLO (indicating main viewscreen) Whatever it is, it's gaining on us, Captain. The next few lines follow each other quickly. HUDSON Aim aft torpedoes at enemy craft...FIRE! PICCOLO Torpedoes away, Sir.... FORD Damn! They're still picking up speed, closing the gap between us and just _killing_ us in the ratings. HUDSON I was afraid of that. My old nemesis Captain Seinfeld must be on that boat--along with some of his Friends. (beat, resigned) Never _could_ fire anything at them that'd make them sink even half a point. FORD (urgently) Intruder alert! We are being boarded. Two adult males. HUDSON (quickly) Armed? FORD Sensors detect two Filofaxes and a Personal Data Assistant on one of them. A section of the bridge is moved away from behind, revealing _seaQuest dsv_ legends spray-painted on the rear of what is now clearly a mocked-up set. Morris and Gould approach Bridger's station, Gould picking up and eyeballing various pieces of equipment at the officers' work stations. Through all of this, Trueman and Percell are occasionally seen peeking up, wide-eyed, from their hiding place. MORRIS (all business) Okay, listen up, everybody. I'm sorry to break this to everyone in the middle of a shoot, but the November sweeps are over and you guys are just not cutting it against the competition. (beat) I'm afraid we're going to be turning over your time slot to a couple of comedies about a bunch of slackers in the city just sittin' around and talkin'. GOULD (brusquely) Now I know you all think you're the second coming of _Star Trek_ or something and we're making this b-i-i-g mistake, but trust me, we've worked with focus group after focus group and they just can't seem to keep up with your adventures even with all the valuable time slots we've given you. MORRIS (pointedly) But just in case, we're going to have to ask you to turn in all your props and uniforms when you pick up your paychecks. (beat, shaking his head) The last thing we need is a black market in vidlinks that we don't have a piece of. (beat) And can somebody tell me where that dolphin is? We're trying to get back some of our investment by auditioning him for that remake of _Flipper_. Nathan Bridger rushes on to the bridge and elbows Hudson aside. BRIDGER (frantically) Computer! Engage self-destruct sequence! GOULD Oh, come on, Roy! You already did that when you quit the show. You were the only cast member we had with a positive Q rating. HUDSON (to O'Neill) Oh, hell, Ted. Wanna go to the commissary and grab a couple of belts? O'NEILL The only belt _you're_ gonna get is from me, Sir! He punches Hudson in the jaw. O'NEILL (continues) _I'm_ working for Steven Spielberg! Hudson rises, somewhat shakily and more than a little shocked. He confronts Bridger. HUDSON You know, Roy, this is all your fault. (beat, with increasing ire) And here's what I think of all your damned scientific, dolphin on the bridge mumbo-jumbo! (beat, truly angry now) You're a tough--no, impossible--act to follow! Hudson gives Bridger an even better punch than he got from O'Neill. A general melee breaks out among the _2032_ cast members and the interlopers. Cut back to Trueman and Percell, who have been watching the foregoing scene with gaping jaws. TRUEMAN (completely baffled) Do _you_ have any idea what they're talking about, Sara? PERCELL Actually, they're doing a cheap imitation of a spoof of the cancellation of _another_ show that was done on live television in... I think...the mid 1970s. (beat) Now _those_ were the days of classic television! As the donnybrook continues, we... CUT TO REC ROOM Wilson still has the visor on. After a few seconds he speaks. WILSON Ohhhh yeah--those _were_ the good old days, weren't they? (beat, musing) Seventies, hmmmm, somebody on that boat was on.... Hey clicks the mouse several times. WILSON (continues) Brandis, Raimi,...Scheider. Yeah, that's the ticket. So why not click it? He clicks the mouse. FADE TO COMMERCIAL END ACT ONE All disclaimers apply. So you don't forget, apply before midnight tonight. ACT TWO OPEN ON _SEAQUEST DSV4600III_ BRIDGE A tight shot of Wolenczak in the "Big Chair," pulling back to reveal all at their stations as before. The captain looks momentarily disconnected from the current reality. His expression suggests a bit of nostalgia and a sense of loss. Reede speaks, more forcefully than one might expect. It is as if he's had to ask this already. Which he has, right before we came in. REEDE _Sir_! WOLENCZAK (snapping out of it) I'm sorry, Ensign. What did you say? REEDE (too patiently) Awaiting your order. Do you want us to proceed on course while we're investigating these readings, or should we hold position? WOLENCZAK (still a little fuzzy) All stop. (beat) Check Engineering for that report. Lieutenant Commander Jessie Matthews leaves her station and approaches the Wolenczak. Her approach is completely correct, but with a hint of concern and surprise. The following lines between them are exchanged openly but in a tight shot to suggest it's nobody else's business. MATTHEWS (concerned) Are you all right, Sir? (beat) You seem a little out of it. WOLENCZAK (almost relieved that somebody noticed) I'm okay. But that was pretty strange there. It was almost like being back on the old boat--with Secretary General Ford, Henderson... (beat, this one's painful) ...Tony... (beat, recovering) ...and _both_ captains. I sensed conflict, I sensed confusion, I sensed.... (beat, to Matthews, puzzled) Commander, what are Nielsens? MATTHEWS (a bit alarmed) I don't know, but _I_ sense that if you keep talking like a Betazoid, we're going to lose whatever audience _we_ still have. Riller approaches Wolenczak and Matthews with disk in hand and waits for his opening to report to them. WOLENCZAK (to Matthews, increasingly concerned) All these tricks of Hunter's, they've been plenty annoying, but harmless. (beat) But this--you knew him longer and better than I did. Do you think he'd dare put the whole ship in jeopardy? Matthews hesitates. WOLENCZAK Well? MATTHEWS (apologetically) Sorry, Sir. I was trying to phrase my answer in the form of a question. (beat) No. I don't think he had that big an axe to grind with us, or even you. (beat) And if he did, I'm sure he would have and could have done a lot worse than this a lot sooner than now. WOLENCZAK I hope you're right. RILLER (sensing, no, _noticing_ his opening) I have the report from Engineering, Sir. They've identified the source of the readings, and there's been a sudden change in the size and intensity. They'd like you to take a look at what's happening down there. WOLENCZAK (a bit annoyed at being "summoned") I have to _see_ this? Didn't I ask for a report so I wouldn't have to go down there? (beat) What's the point of having a chain of command? MATTHEWS (pushing her luck) Very good, Sir! Now all you have to do is find the Daily Double and we can _beat_ that celebrity team from "The Love Boat"! WOLENCZAK (resigned) I may as well go down to Engineering and get away from this-- (beat, rolling his eyes) --witty repartee. Wolenczak, about to hand the conn over, notes Morgan's absence from her station. WOLENCZAK (continues, to Matthews) Has Morgan been keeping up with her Bridge duties? MATTHEWS (back on safe ground) She's getting better about it, Sir. I think if she had her way she'd still prefer just losing herself in her work, but ever since we installed that M&M dispenser next to her station up here, she.... WOLENCZAK (finishing it for her) .... melts in your hands? MATTHEWS (wryly) Not exactly. WOLENCZAK (quitting while he's more or less ahead, to Matthews) You have the conn. The usual Chinese fire drill ensues. MATTHEWS (irritably) Is somebody gonna explain someday on one of these military shows what the hell that means? CUT TO FISHING BOAT Percell, Trueman and Bridger on the aft deck of a large fishing vessel. The seas are choppy, the wind is blowing spray all around them. Bridger will be referred to as such throughout these scenes, but his character otherwise resembles the captain of the original _seaQuest_ only in the slightest. He is constantly affecting an accent and attitude embodying the angry sailor--one part drunk, one part punch-drunk. BRIDGER (shouting over the side of the boat) Aye, I know you're down there, ya killer! Well, ya gotta eat and ya gotta make little sharks. (beat) I jus' sent down some food for ya, and if that doesn't getcha "in the mood," I got some little snackies for ya right back-- He notices Percell and Trueman for the first time and shoves them toward two fifty-gallon barrels gracing the ship's stern. BRIDGER (continues) Don't just stand there, ya landlubbers! Start scooping the chum! He gestures wildly at the barrels. TRUEMAN (to Percell, confused) He can see us! He seems to know who we are! BRIDGER (interrupting) Of course I can see you, you dimension shifting dunderheads! This isn't some floating underwater hotel with nooks and crannies ye can hide behind! Now get busy with those scoops! Percell and Trueman begin, hesitantly, emptying the barrels' contents into the wake of the boat. The following lines among the three of them come more or less between scoops. PERCELL But what are _you_ doing here, Captain Bridger? BRIDGER (roaring) Brridges? Does this look like the middle of Madison County out here? Now are ye gonna start feeding Bruce his chum or am I gonna have to throw ye overboard? TRUEMAN (still absolutely befuddled) Bruce? What are you talking about? BRIDGER (out of what little patience he had) It's our _mission_, you fool! We're going after the big one--the Great White! PERCELL (brightly) You mean we're gonna make a musical out of this movie and take it to Broadway? (beat) Cool! She breaks into her best belt-out of a show tune, stopping her shoveling and shocking Trueman into stopping too. PERCELL (singing) "Tooooo-morrow, to-morrow, I'll get you, tomorrow...." TRUEMAN (cutting her off) A great white _shark_, he means! Don't you remember? We were talking about the mid-'70s. PERCELL ("getting it") Oh, yeah! So this must be, the... BRIDGER (mock polite) The _Orca II_, ma'am. Captain _Quint_ commanding. We tried to get Captain Stubing for you but he was too busy doing commercials with Kathie Lee. TRUEMAN (getting more lost by the second) Who?! PERCELL (explaining) Evil creature. She was in a lot of '80s and '90s television shows. (beat) Died in a sabotaged mud-wrestling match with Martha Stewart. TRUEMAN Now _her_ I've heard of. Isn't she the one who gave Larry Deon the idea about cornering the potpourri market? BRIDGER (continuing to put on the air, but beginning to lose it) Well, isn't _this_ just a charming chat we're having out here on the aft deck? Perhaps Bruce would like to come and have a nice dish of tea... (beat, the top finally comes back off) AND STRUMPETS! Now get busy with that chum! PERCELL (to Bridger, suspiciously) But you don't look anything like the Quint I remember. _You_ look more like... BRIDGER (cutting her off) ..that namby-pamby Brody? Aye, some say there's a resemblance. Or was, I should say. The Sheriff and Hooper had themselves a lunch appointment with ol' Bruce down there. (gestures at barrels, regaining his anger) Now are ya goin' to follow orders or am I going to have to throw ya over the side?! PERCELL (to Trueman, more nervous now, eyeing the barrels) They wouldn't--they _couldn't_! You can't show decapitation on network television. TRUEMAN But this is the Internet. No censors. TRUEMAN, PERCELL (unison) Uh-oh.... They start scooping from the barrels with renewed enthusiasm. CUT TO _SEAQUEST DSV4600III_ ENGINE ROOM Callan and Wolenczak are inspecting the phenomenon still visible around the main engines. WOLENCZAK (to no one in particular) Why that scheming, two-timing four-flusher. I gave her a second chance and she took me to the cleaners with it. This time I'm going to hang her from the highest yardarm! CALLAN Um...Sir? This is a submarine. No yardarms. And I think we had enough of that over-the-top Ahab stuff in the last scene. WOLENCZAK You're right, Commander. Let's try to figure out what we've got here. You ever seen anything like this before? CALLAN Well, there's that Bad Hemingway contest they do out at Harry's American Bar-- WOLENCZAK (cutting him off) Not the dialogue, the black hole! CALLAN (contritely) Sorry, Sir. I know there were some almost accidental discoveries of time anomalies, but the problem was, they were _so_ accidental, nobody really got much of a chance to record anything or even take down the most basic data. I think most of the research that came out of them had to do with the long-term medical effects. WOLENCZAK Right. (beat) I suppose that's as good a starting point as any. Get the doctor down here, will you? Maybe she can help figure this out. CALLAN Aye, Sir. He starts to exit. WOLENCZAK I meant _call_ her, _summon_ her, send her a damn e-mail or something. CALLAN (explaining) That's the problem, Sir. PALs are still out, and now we're starting to get crashes and misdirects all over the main communications system. (beat, exasperated) Believe me, if you want me to get Doctor Burke down here, I'm going to have to _go_, or at least get someone to chase her down. (beat, hopefully) Unless you have a quarter for a phone call? Wolenczak glares at him. Callan leaves, in haste. WOLENCZAK (calling after Callan) Boy, this crew's going to be in some damn good shape with all this running around if you don't get communications fixed. CUT TO _ORCA_ AFT DECK A battered and semi-shattered shark-proof cage is hoisted aboard. Only Hooper, ace oceanographer, is within it, and the first look seen on his face is one of panic. HOOPER He's incredible! We were down there just scanning the perimeter, Brody picked up something on the sonar about a candygram, and next thing you know it was Goodbye, Girl! BRIDGER Which way did he go? HOOPER Down. (beat) And he took his lunch with him. BRIDGER I _knew_ Brody didn't have the gumption to put up a fight. (beat, aggressively) Well that damned white pile of blubber's not going to defeat _me_! HOOPER (aghast) You can't sacrifice this boat--or me--over this blasted obsession of yours! Whose Life Is It, Anyway? PERCELL (trying to be helpful) And What About Bob? HOOPER (stunned) Where did _you_ come from? And what are you doing here? TRUEMAN ("winging it") We, er, were rescued from a passing submarine that got hit by the shark. HOOPER If you bring up "Hello Down There" I'll punch you out _and_ sue you. TRUEMAN Huh? PERCELL (explaining) Very bad film. If he hadn't been cast in _American Graffiti_ you'd never have heard of him. BRIDGER (roaring--again) Would you damn movie critics get your thumbs out of your noses and start loading the torpedoes? I swear I just heard some cellos playing, and you _know_ what _that_ means. HOOPER (still angry) Well, this is just Nuts. I'm not going to let you just Stand idly By Me while that shark Stakes this boat Out.... PERCELL (dryly, cutting him off) Excuse me, Sir, but if you're going to do that, can you leave out the Close Encounters joke? We need all of those we can get for our next scene. VOICE (offscreen) Um, Ensign Glmxxxn? TRUEMAN (turns toward voice, suspiciously) What was that? Who are you? VOICE Land shark, ma'am. PERCELL It's got to be Brody pulling some practical joke on us. There's no such thing as.... Several stagehands are seen dumping buckets of water onto the deck. They are followed by an extra wearing "landshark" headgear running in from stage left and lunging headfirst at Trueman. Hand-to-hand combat ensues between the two of them. Hooper decks Bridger. Percell lifts a bucket of chum, Gatorade-shower style, over the two of them as we... CUT TO REC ROOM Riller enters, sees Wilson at the one occupied terminal. He taps Wilson on shoulder; Wilson turns no more than one-eighth toward Riller. RILLER Excuse me, but have you seen Ensign Trueman? She was supposed to be down here and nobody seems to know where she is. Wilson shrugs, trying to stay intent on program. RILLER (continues) No? Okay...sorry to bother you, Sir. Riller exits. WILSON (to himself) Boy, there's a checkered film career if there ever was one. But she was right--he left... (moving his cursor across the screen) ...one...film...out. He clicks as we... FADE TO COMMERCIAL END ACT TWO WIN VALUABLE PRIZES ACT THREE:16 OPEN ON ENGINE ROOM Burke has finally made it and appears slightly winded. The phenomenon is still present. Occasional flickers of light occur to suggest random disruptions of main power. WOLENCZAK What do you make of it, Doctor? BURKE That's quite a black cloud there. (beat, then to Callan) If you really need help with the mice down here, you are just going to have to clean that catbox in between ports. CALLAN (completely lost) Huh? BURKE (looking at his console) Oh, that's very different... (beat, to Callan again, sweetly) Never mind. Wolenczak heads for a console. WOLENCZAK (in the manner of a college professor) I think you'll find there's a constant stream of negatively charged ions creating a dimensional displacement effect using residual energy from the ship engines to pull and redshift any matter that comes in contact with it.... BURKE (sarcastically) That's pretty good, Jean Luc-as. Got any holes in your uniform you want to make me sew? Wolenczak starts entering commands on console. WOLENCZAK (to Burke somewhat off-handedly) We had a phenomenon like this on the second _seaQuest_, and if I can just get to... (beat) Damn! Now the main data banks seem to be overloading from something. What the hell does "404-not found" mean? CALLAN (helpfully) Four-oh-four? Wasn't that some old style form of cleaning solvent? WOLENCZAK (giving him a dirty look) You shut up. CALLAN (enthusiastically) I've got it, Sir! (beat) If this phenomenon is feeding off the ship's power, can't we just...turn it off? (beat, to noncom at console) Do it. WOLENCZAK (shock, anger, concern) Belay that order! CALLAN (gratefully) Thank you, Sir! I always wanted to get "belayed" on national television. WOLENCZAK (wisely ignoring _that_ remark) We can't just "turn it off," Callan. (beat, explaining) If she's in there, her matter has become completely commingled with the energy stream. Premature termination could kill her or strand her someplace or sometime and we'd never find her. (beat, trying to puzzle it out) Now she _must_ have some sort of safety to bring her back out of this somehow. (to Callan) I wonder if she had some help...who on board would have the background to pull something like this off? CALLAN (mulling it as he goes) Well you seem to know all about this...me, the doctor here, ...Matthews, ummmmm, _maybe_ Riller, Sharkey, McHale, Percell, Barbour, Willard...that's about it. (beat) Oh, and Morgan, maybe. I really don't know enough about her abilities. WOLENCZAK Right. Let's start rounding them up....I doubt if any of them is involved in this madness, but maybe they can give us some ideas about what she might have done. He returns to the console, punching keys. WOLENCZAK (continues) I have just _got_ to get into those old logs Trueman was looking at to see what she's... (beat--75 watt GE lightbulb appears above his head) ...She _downloaded_ it! There's got to be a disk someplace. He straightens, tossing off orders. WOLENCZAK (continues) Callan, get somebody up there to search Trueman's quarters. (lifts PAL) Riller...report to Engineering. The PAL merely squeaks and squeals. Wolenczak slams at it, then turns to Callan, who shrugs and looks helpless. WOLENCZAK (continues) Get _Riller_ to search Trueman's quarters. Only one crewman to chase down that way. (beat) Plus, he'd probably know what he's looking for in there. Callan exits; the door fails to close behind him. WOLENCZAK (continues) And I need two more things. Find Ensign Morgan--see what she _does_ know about this business. (beat) And...close that door. CUT TO LIVING ROOM We see a small, overcrowded and overrun-with-toys middle-class living room somewhere in Indiana. Hooper is feverishly molding a large pile of green slime into a volcano-shaped object. Cans of Slime (reg. tm. of Mattel Corporation) are strewn about the floor. The '70s-era 19-inch tv screen is running stream-of-consciousness segments of various cartoons and commercials from the era. Hooper's wife, Ronnie, enters the room, trailed by one of her typically obnoxious kids. HOOPER (thoughtfully) I _know_ what this is. I just can't put my finger on it. RONNIE (nagging) It looks like you've put your fingers _all_ over it. I don't get it--it just looks like an overgrown Jabba the Hut. TYPICALLY OBNOXIOUS KID Just add some pepperoni and it'll look like _Pizza_ the Hut, if you ask me. RONNIE (sharply) Stop that. That's from _Spaceballs_, which won't be along for _another_ ten years. We're having enough trouble keeping time straight in this episode as it is. HOOPER (mysteriously) And I keep getting these images of, of... (beat, trying to "reel it in") ...A spaceship. Yeah! Big mother, too. Huge spheroid shape on the top and then a smaller--but _still_ real, real big--lit-up section on the bottom. (beat, thinking some more) Yeah--with these flashing light thingerbobbers all around the bottom! Hooper wipes the Slime off his hands with an anachronistically placed child's E.T. t-shirt, runs to the table and feverishly starts to draw. HOOPER (continuing up the wall he's gone off) It's awesome! It'll come to earth to seek out visitors. And then another one--looking just like it, welllll, sorta--will come and pluck a real souped-up submarine out from the middle of the ocean. RONNIE (rolling with the punches) And take it into outer space and dump it in the middle of _another_ ocean! HOOPER (by George, I think they've _got_ it) And then they'll have this big fight scene with some real nasty looking aliens, and then,...come on, Ronnie, help me out here! RONNIE (trying, mulling, straining,...ba-BING!) I know! We'll just end it with a cliffhanger and bring most of them back the next season and pretend none of it really happened. HOOPER (icing on the cake time) Right! We'll have the aliens dump the crew all over the globe, and, and.... (beat, blurting this next one out just to get the idea over with) _Drop_ the submarine in the middle of a, a...a CORNFIELD!! RONNIE and HOOPER (adding it up in their heads, exchanging puzzled glances, then in unison) Na-a-a-a-ah... Pan to shot of sofa, where heads of first Percell and then Trueman pop up, then back down again in unison. They speak in stage whispers. PERCELL _Now_ what have you gotten us into? TRUEMAN I don't know, Toto, but I don't think we're off the coast of Amity anymore. PERCELL Well, _duh_, but... (finally noticing Hooper and his obsession) What's _he_ doing here?... (beat) Wait a minute! This is from one of his other films! That's the connection, Rebecca! Whatever is controlling these shifts of ours _must_ have something to do with my VR program. TRUEMAN But if that's the case, can't somebody just... PERCELL (cutting her off) Turn it off? No, somebody thought of that in the last scene, so let's not hash it out again for everybody. (beat, thoughtfully) If we're going to be faithful to late twentieth century science fiction, we just have to play out our roles here until either the program terminates or... (beat) The recall program! What time is it? TRUEMAN (glancing at wrist) Time to have remembered to put the thing on. Callan's been working with all the electronics, remember? PERCELL Well, it's too late to do anything about it now--it seems like we've been in this hole a long time. TRUEMAN The audience is going to think so, too, if we don't get this scene over with and back to the _Close Encounters_ jokes. They are startled by sounds from a toy phaser circa _Classic Trek_. TYPICALLY OBNOXIOUS KID (hollering excitedly) Intruder alert! Intruder alert! Security to behind the sofa! At this moment, every mechanical toy in the room snaps to attention, begins to move toward the sofa with a suitable din of whirs, beeps, whines and squeaks. T.O.K. Wow! Cool! RONNIE (thoroughly spooked) Roy, if you pull one more of these practical jokes of yours, I'm outta here and I'm taking the kids with me. HOOPER (not bothering to hide his disgust) You mean the kids who whacked me in the ass with a ping pong paddle while I was shaving? Don't tempt me, Ronnie. (beat) And besides, I'm busy making the world's largest ...largest... (beat, 75-watt bulb from previous scene goes off over his head) Volcano! Devil's Tower! Area 51! RONNIE No, NO, NO!!! That's from _ID4_, you idiot! This one's just _another_ supersecret government installation in the middle of nowhere. HOOPER (disappointed) Aw, bummer. I was looking forward to seeing Data doing his wigged-out mad scientist routine. RONNIE (patting his shoulder) Don't worry, hon. There'll be plenty of _Star Trek_ jokes before the end of the next act. CUT TO SEAQUEST ENGINE ROOM Throughout the scene, lights flicker as before, only more frequently. At random intervals, five-note motif from _Close Encounters_ is heard through the din of background noise. Morgan and Riller have joined the party inspecting and monitoring the phenomenon. WOLENCZAK (to Riller) And? RILLER (shrugging) Nothing, sir. I even looked under the bed. (beat, sneezing violently) I _hate_ dust bunnies. WOLENCZAK (frustrated) People, there has _got_ to be a disk someplace. I locked her out of that log file myself half an hour before there was any anomaly, so she must have retrieved the data before she came to me. Now there's nothing at her station and nothing in her quarters, so...Think! RILLER (coming up with something) Wait a second, Sir! She was down in the rec room after her shift. I was looking for her earlier, and, well, _she_ wasn't there, but she left one of the terminals running. WOLENCZAK (decisively) Let's go. They exit. CUT TO REC ROOM Wilson is humming the "motif" as Wolenczak, Riller, Morgan, et. al., arrive. This time he removes the helmet, but remains fixed on the screen details, occasionally pointing and clicking. Riller scans the adjacent terminal previously used by Trueman. RILLER (frustrated) Damn! There was something on here before that looked like a link to the old ship's logs. But this...I've never seen anything like this before on our computers, Sir. WOLENCZAK (puzzled) Same here. If I didn't know better, I'd say those looked like... (beat) flying toasters? RILLER (checking machine for disks) Nothing here. CALLAN (rushing in) Sir, you had better get back to engineering. The size of the phenomenon has just shrunk. WOLENCZAK By how much? CALLAN Well, by our best measurements it now fills the screen on a nineteen-inch diagonal monitor and sensors are detecting stereo sound coming from inside it. (beat) Where available. WOLENCZAK (to Morgan) Ensign, you stay here and see if you can make anything other than toast out of these things here. The rest of you are with me. They exit. MORGAN (to herself, inspecting the screen display) This looks familiar, but I can't quite.... WILSON Do you mind? We've already had one deja vu scene here already. (beat, now stoically and more or less to self as Morgan begins pressing keys) Funny, though, how the black hole shrunk down once I shifted into the TV directory on this disk. Fas-cinating. In-teresting. Fas-cinating. (beat, now excited about making the connection) Right! _That's_ what she was in. Captain's Log--stardate...oh hell, it didn't have one... He clicks on "ASSIGNMENT: EARTH" under directory for "GARR, T.", puts the visor back on as we... CUT TO APARTMENT This is a "mod" apartment in mid-'60s New York City. Percell and Trueman are seated on a sofa in an outer office area; Ronnie, now morphed from '70s-frazzled to '60s-kooky, is in mid-sentence addressing them both. RONNIE ...Here to see the Big Cheese, huh? She picks up old-fashioned PBX switchboard handset and presses intercom button that can be heard from behind door. RONNIE (into handset) More company, Sir. Just like last time, only...these two aren't even trying to conceal who they are. (beat, then handing Trueman a pad on a clipboard and a very futuristic looking pen) He'll be right with you. Would you mind signing in, please? Trueman fumbles with the "pen" trying to get it to write. Door opens to right of reception desk. Bridger walks out, also morphed into turtleneck-Nehru jacket ensemble. He looks over the sign-in sheet, then sees Percell and Trueman and does a double take. BRIDGER (firmly) Miss Lincoln, I told you not to... (beat) You're from the future. Just like those other ones. He suddenly lunges for the pen in Trueman's hand. BRIDGER (continues) And put that thing down! Trueman instinctively decks Bridger as he reaches for her "weapon." He affects his best "oh no, not again" look and hits the floor as we... FADE TO COMMERCIAL END ACT THREE PAWN TO KING FOUR ACT FOUR ALL And all disclaimers for one apply OPEN ON INNER OFFICE All looks conventional late-20th century Businessman's Special, with the exception of the superfuturisticexpialadocious Beta 5 computer on the credenza behind him. The round screen with the abstract colors is the highlight of this device, but surprisingly, connected to it is a Macintosh Quadra 605 monitor with wires running both to the Beta 5 and below the credenza. Bridger looks a bit dazed and occasionally rubs his chin. Trueman looks as remorseful as she can pull off. TRUEMAN I'm very sorry, Sir. Self-defense training. You came at me without warning. BRIDGER (ironically, perhaps ruefully) Don't worry about it,... (beat, best guess at her rank) ...Lieutenant? It isn't every day I beam around this planet and get slugged... (beat, one of those chin-rubbing moments) ...several times. PERCELL (jumping in helpfully) She's an ensign. I'm a petty officer. BRIDGER Oh, I wouldn't say that. I bet most of your complaints are justified. PERCELL (shaking her head) Like the one I'm going to lodge about that last joke? (beat, inspecting the Beta 5) Hey, quite a combination you've got here. This thing looks like one of those original Pong machines. BRIDGER (a bit annoyed) That, Miss Trueman-- PERCELL (butting in) _She's_ Trueman, I'm Percell. BRIDGER (as if the interruption never took place) --Is a Beta 5. It has capabilities beyond anything in this century or yours. With your technology, you'd need memory storage twice the size of your boat to even begin to approximate its powers. And I'd be careful about letting it hear you compare it to anything short of a Beta 6. PERCELL (on closer inspection) So...if it's such great shakes, what's this thing you got attached to it? BRIDGER That, Miss Percell, is a Mac. (beat, clarifying) Better graphics. COMPUTER VOICE (Majel Barrett with a clothespin on her nose) But we can still kick that Gates guy's butt. Would you like to play a game? BRIDGER Stop that. You Beta 5s are well known for your ability to detour the exposition. Bridger buzzes the intercom on his desk. BRIDGER (continues) Miss Lincoln, we need three lattes and some help advancing the scene, please. (beat) You've been calling me Bridger in the script headings, but in this reality I'm known as Nathan Fourteen. I've taken over the Earth office that Agents 201 and 347 used to work for with Gary-- PERCELL (jumping in again) Indiana? Glitter? BRIDGER (puzzled) No, Seven. TRUEMAN (looking around for a clock) Is it that late already? Hey--we have to be on the _air_ in an hour! BRIDGER No, no, no. (beat, explaining) Gary Seven was the original agent in charge of this office. He passed it on to Al Reddy-Eight, who got laid off in favor of Kay Nine, who then.... The witty repartee is blissfully interrupted by Ronnie a/k/a Miss Lincoln, who passes each a Starbucks cup, moves an obviously stuffed toy cat off her boss's guest sofa and begins assisting in the explanation. RONNIE I don't think Nathan here is that good at public relations. Much better designing ships and making last-second adjustments on shipboard bombs. Let me tell you girls what's going on. (beat) See, Gary and I set up this little business after we had these visitors from the future. Company's still called Lincoln-Seven, in fact. BRIDGER (firmly) _Seven_-Lincoln. RONNIE (exasperated) Let's _not_ start that again. Look, you want to beam down to Delaware and look it up? PERCELL (mystified) Delaware? BRIDGER Tax purposes. RONNIE ("...before I was so rudely interrupted...") Anyway, our leaders back on the home world were so worried about interference from the future that they rededicated the station here to watching out for time travelers and making sure they didn't muck up the timeline. (beat, sternly) We've been waiting for you to get back here ever since the shark scene. TRUEMAN (thoughtfully) I can see how that would make some sense. A little misdirection at just the wrong time could get somebody run over by a streetcar. PERCELL (continuing the idea) Or _not_ run over by a streetcar. You never know which it's supposed to be. RONNIE (nodding) Exactly. (beat) And we don't just have our own species to worry about. I mean, the Borg occasionally try to come back here and alter the timeline on purpose. BRIDGER (shaking his head) Such a mess! RONNIE (showing no sign of stopping) Or some damn marooned ship captain with her hair in a bun may beam people down who start firing phasers in Los Angeles a hundred years too early. (beat) That's what we're here for--Beta 5 rewrites the newspaper articles, Nathan changes all the vid records, and we patch the rest together with duct tape and a Swiss army knife. PERCELL All of this is fascinating, but does it explain what we're doing here or how we get home? COMPUTER VOICE Hits on Truemanrebecca--negative. (beat) Hits on Percellsara--negative. (beat) Hits on Wolenczaklucas--only by educated professional female fans who think he's cute. RONNIE It looks like you've managed not to do any damage. So I think it's best we help you get out of here before you _do_. BRIDGER (thinking out loud) Well, look, if we have to we can program something. We're not beyond traveling in time ourselves when we have to, you know. (beat, reminiscing) We had this one old security guard who got in trouble with the Soup Nazi for insisting he'd had an even better bowl of chicken soup on some fancy orbiting flying saucer. Plus the reports of a guy with huge ears speaking some unintelligible language and going on and on about economics... TRUEMAN Oh, that's just Ross Perot. He had himself frozen in 2006 but we still get the infomercials. RONNIE (cutting in again) In fact, when Nathan asked me for the lattes, I beamed myself forward thirty years to get these for you. See, this is 1960s New York. No Starbucks on every corner. No Ben and Jerrys. (beat) No Gaps. PERCELL (shocked) _No Gaps_?! TRUEMAN (equally shocked) This we gotta see! Together they bolt for the door. Bridger tries to block them but of course is upended butt-over-teakettle as Percell and Trueman tackle him and head out of the inner office door. BRIDGER (picking himself up gingerly) At least they got it over with before end of the act this time... RONNIE (sympathetically) Oh, why don't you come home for dinner with us, Nathan? You've had a long day. (beat, picks up phone on Bridger's desk and dials) Let me just call home and tell my son we're having company...Hello, Zefram? It's Mom! CUT TO 2047 BRIDGE All except Trueman, Percell and Morgan are at usual stations. Wolenczak looks besieged. WOLENCZAK (thinking out loud) Right. We know there's a disk but there _is_ no disk. Our communications are fried, the power's cutting in and out and we have a black hole the size of a television set in our engine room. (beat, looking around) Anyone else got some bad news to report? RILLER (right on cue) Sir, there's a Carolinan warship coming into range. COMMUNICATIONS OFFICER (slightly panicked) They're hailing us, Sir; I can pick up the incoming signal. (beat) But we do not, repeat do _not_, have outside communications capability. WOLENCZAK Put it up, Ensign. (beat--reaching below seat of the Big Chair) And try patching this in. He hits "on" button on cellular phone of the Mulder/Scully variety. COMMUNICATIONS OFFICER (totally mystified) What _is_ that, Sir? WOLENCZAK I believe it was called a "flip phone." Captain Bridger's grandkid used to play with it, and he gave it to me as something of a souvenir. (beat, presses a few keys on pad, then stops) Wait a second--we in our waters or theirs? RILLER We're in ours, they're in theirs. No hostile activity observed yet, Sir. WOLENCZAK (nodding) Good. (beat) I just hate having to pay those damn roaming rates. Carolinan Captain appears on the main vidscreen. CAPTAIN (all business) Good afternoon, Captain Wolenczak. I'm Captain Polian of the _CSS Panther_. Our sensors have been monitoring some anomalous energy readings on your side of the border, and they have been pinpointed as coming from within your boat. If you do not disengage this new weapon and leave this sector, we have orders to capture and remove you. WOLENCZAK (poker faced) Captain Polian, we _are_ experiencing some engine trouble--we suspect it's another of your Mister Hunter's little going-away presents for us. The trouble is under repair and we will be on our way as soon as our repairs are completed, in.... (beat, checks chrono) Well, we're about halfway through the fourth act, so it shouldn't be much longer. POLIAN Unacceptable, Captain. This energy source poses a potential threat to our ship and waters, and we have our orders. (over his shoulder) Polians--engage! CUT TO EXTERIOR _SEAQUEST_--CGI Two small ships are seen approaching the center of seaQuest CUT TO BRIDGE All is as before. WOLENCZAK Fire intercepts! Fire torpedoes! RILLER (glumly) Guess what, Sir! Weapons systems are off-line. WOLENCZAK (desperately) Then would somebody please get me a stiff drink? CUT TO EXTERIOR _SEAQUEST_--CGI The two ships join at the center, then separate in opposite directions and begin the crisscrossing pattern that, of course threatens to engulf the ship before the end of this episode. CUT TO SCIENCE LAB Morgan is monitoring these developments from her console. Burke enters, having been watching the same phenomenon on hers. BURKE (concerned) What do you make of that? MORGAN It's nasty. Infinite energy and zero mass. Whatever the physics of it are, they'll have this boat entangled in no time. And the potential is limitless. Why, they could have all UEO and even the unaligned colonies entangled in a... BURKE A... BOTH (in unison, wondering whether this line was worth all the setup) A WORLD WIDE POLIAN WEB?! Burke now reexamines the readings on Morgan's console and notices something she'd missed before. BURKE (curiously) Umm...Anne? That thing in the corner--the clock counting down 4:28, 4:27, 4:26--you don't suppose that's another of Hunter's viruses getting ready to unleash itself, do you? MORGAN (shock and embarrassment about having forgotten all about the recall program) No--that's a...a timer I put up to remind me to do something. (beat) I gotta get back down to the rec room and...check something I saw on Trueman's terminal! Morgan hightails it out of there. BURKE (to herself, suspicious) And I think you know something you don't want to tell me.... (beat) Or the Captain. She hightails it out herself in the opposite direction. CUT TO BRIDGE Callan walks on and approaches Wolenczak. Both are extremely concerned. CALLAN I've completed the analysis, Sir. We'll be completely engulfed and cut off from outside communications in about ten minutes. WOLENCZAK That's assuming we don't do anything to stop it. CALLAN But Captain, what _can_ we do? _You've_ seen the Star Trek episode--only a time shift at the last minute saved the _Enterprise_ from one, er, two of these things. WOLENCZAK (buying his light bulbs by the six pack this week) Time shift? Greg, we've _got_ time shift! We just have to find a way to redirect that effect out of the engine room so we can bring the web within the shifting effect. Burke enters as Callan speaks. CALLAN It just might work, Sir! The funny thing is, though, the smaller that thing gets, the more powerful the readings are. WOLENCZAK So if we can compress it down to the size of maybe.... BURKE ("getting it," speaking a la Roseanne Rosannadanna) A teeny tiny leetle television set? CALLAN Exactly! I think I can modify the ionizing stream so it'll compress it and yet make it even more powerful. BURKE Well, _I_ think you ought to ask Ensign Morgan to help you. She ran down to that Rec Room terminal in a big hurry and was expecting something to happen down there in about... (beat, checks chrono) Two minutes. WOLENCZAK We don't have _your_ two minutes plus-- (indicates Callan) --_his_ ten. Doctor, head down there and see what you can find out. Greg, you're with me. (beat) Let's shrink that bad boy down to a Watchman. CUT TO REC ROOM Wilson, hatless, appears agitated, and furiously attacks the mouse and keyboard as Morgan runs in. Wilson hears her enter but, again, doesn't turn. WILSON (frustrated) Blazes! None of these are working now! I can't get a lock on anything on this disk except.... MORGAN Excuse me, Sir, I hate to keep bothering you, but a friend of mine had a program running down here and I can't find any sign of it. It's really important. WILSON (brushing her off, "troubles of my own") Well, gee, neighbor, did you think of doing a search by your friend's _ID_ code on another terminal? (beat) Maybe of programs that were last launched like, today? MORGAN (buying in to the lightbulb franchise) You're right...thanks. She reboots the terminal Trueman had been using and hits keys when it has reset. Wilson finally figures out his own troubles and replaces the visor. WILSON (sotto voce) Well, it's Desilu, but it'll have to do.... CUT TO BLACK Then f/x of old vacuum-tube era television set powering up- lots of static and vertical hold jumps. When "picture" finally settles down, it is black and white and letterboxed within screen, reduced perhaps twenty-five percent. Only Percell appears in the scene, wearing a white baker's hat and an Italian-restaurant-tablecloth apron. She stands before a conveyor belt; to her left and our right are the closest doubles of Lucille Ball and Vivian Vance that can be obtained from Central Casting. A pedantic, singsong off screen male voice concludes the detailed instructions everybody knows by heart anyway: VOICE ...And if at any time the conveyor moves too fast for you ladies, just pull down on the leeeeee-ver and the belt will stop auuuuuutomatically. Okay, Misssusss Ricardo? "LUCY" Yes, Mister Witherbottom. VOICE Okay, Missus Mertz? "ETHEL" Yes, Mister Witherbottom. VOICE Okay, Missus.... Missus.... PERCELL It's Miz. "LUCY" (enthused) Les Miz? (beat, realizing this ain't exactly Whitney Houston here) Don't tell me _you're_ going to try singing again. Pies begin passing on the conveyor before "the girls". Lucy and Ethel each spray whipped cream on one of the first two. The pies pass Percell and crash to the ground during the next several lines. PERCELL (finally noticing she's here by herself) Trueman? What have you done with Trueman? "ETHEL" What's our former president have to do with anything? He's probably back in Missouri failing as a haberdasher again. A _seaQuest_ torpedo now passes along the belt. Ethel sprays cream; Lucy adds cherries. PERCELL (utter panic) What's that doing here?! Sheesh, it's armed! Delicately, she catches it and places it on the floor. Several more torpedoes proceed past them in increasingly rapid succession. PERCELL (frantic) I want to stop this crazy thing and find my friend! She runs to pull "off" lever. Guess what happens to it? Darwin now appears on conveyor belt. It miraculously slows down to enable us to finish this silly scene. "Ethel" sprays cream, but "Lucy", to Percell's surprise, pulls a vocorder from under the belt. DARWIN Whipped cream! MMMMM! Kinky! "LUCY" And where were you, you slimy little fish? DARWIN Officer's Club. "LUCY" (wailing) Awwww, Darwin, you never take me to the club with you! VOICE Girrrrrls, girrrrrrls, girrrrls, I'm afraid we're going to have to let you alllllll go if you can't maintain the slapstick comedy! PERCELL (pleading with the ceiling) Get me out of here! ALL THREE (unison) WAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!! CUT TO HOTEL ROOM Back to full size and in living color, we see Trueman is waking up, dazed and confused, much like Henderson in "Brave New World." The sound of a running shower is heard from the next room. Her suspicion quickly rouses her from the effect and from the bed, and she begins inspecting her surroundings. TRUEMAN (opening door to bathroom) Sara? Where are we? How did we get here? But the shadowy showery figure she is addressing turns out not to be Percell but a 19-year-old not-yet-Ensign Lucas Wolenczak (who hereafter will be referred to as "Lucas" to distinguish him from his older and more distinguished self), who peeks out of the partially opened shower door and affects his best Bobby Ewing smile. LUCAS Hi there! CUT TO COMMERCIAL END ACT FOUR WHILE THERE'S STILL TIME! ACT FIVE ACT YOUR AGE OPEN ON REC ROOM At the computer stations, Wilson is repeatedly pointing a remote control device at his monitor. Morgan rises from her terminal, forcefully removes the visor from his head, and swivels his chair toward her about a quarter-turn. WILSON (affronted) Hey! What'd you do _that_ for? I was channel-surfing. MORGAN (borderline angry) I checked the main logs, all right, and Trueman's program got logged off, but Percell's is still running. (beat, tapping his screen) On _this_ terminal. Now what the heck is going on here? WILSON (innocently) I don't know what you're talking about. (beat, explaining) I've just been watching some of the programs on these virtual reality disks that got left down here. The memory core keeps shrinking down on me, but right now I've got two of them still going--one must be your friend's, the other must be your other friend's. MORGAN (testy) Have you been comatose or something? My two friends have been _missing_ for almost an hour, and if I don't get into that program, they may be stuck in a time continuum forever! WILSON (contritely) I'm sorry, Ensign. I've been down here for that whole hour and a little... (beat, indicates visor) ...indisposed? Please. Take the station. Do what you have to do. He exits mysteriously as we... CUT TO HOTEL ROOM. Lucas has donned a towel and seats himself on one of the beds. Trueman is still maintaining a high-alert attitude but does not perceive Lucas as the threat. TRUEMAN (calling out) Sara? Where _are_ you? She seats herself opposite Lucas on the other bed. TRUEMAN (continues) Have you seen anybody else in here since I came in? I've been traveling with... (beat, she has to be careful about saying too much) ...a friend. LUCAS I was alone before _you_ came in, and frankly, ma'am, I'm not sure about anything right now. (beat) I feel like I've been asleep for a _long_ time. (beat, slightly agitated) And these dreams! About being transported on some futuristic spaceship to an ocean in another solar system...fighting with these real ugly stormtroopers...some worm named Ed....Neptune, Poseidon... Charlie the Tuna! TRUEMAN I hate to tell you, but I think that last one was just one of the commercials. LUCAS (with amazement) I must've been here the whole time! Captain Bridger let me have a couple of beers, and next thing I know, I'm in a hotel room in... in... He walks over to window and looks out. LUCAS (continues) ...not in. On. _On_ an island with a very nice zoo and Pat Buchanan _still_ wandering around trying to get into the convention. TRUEMAN (ruefully) Tell me about it. (beat) I've been having some pretty intense dreams myself for the past... (beat, realizing she's carrying on a conversation with one of them) Damn! It _must_ be over an hour! _Why_ isn't that recall program kicking in?! What happened to Morgan? (beat) Where the hell is Sara? (beat) Where's Bridger so I can beat him up again? LUCAS (excited) The captain?! You've seen him?! TRUEMAN (rubbing right fist into open left palm) We've...um...met. (beat) Look. You think I'm a dream. I think you're a dream. Why don't we each just do our own thing and see who's right, okay? (beat, extending hand.) And I'm Rebecca. Rebecca Trueman. LUCAS (meeting it with his own) Lucas Wolenczak. TRUEMAN (nearly fainting) Oh, boy... CUT TO REC ROOM Wolenczak, Callan, Burke and two burly "redshirts" approach Morgan at the terminal. She has the headset on and is furiously tapping keys. WOLENCZAK (sternly) Ensign, get away from that computer! "Reds" remove headset from her and her from swivel chair. Morgan looks shocked but also concerned. WOLENCZAK (explaining) Sorry to rough you up like that, Ensign, but we've got us some pretty weird stuff going on here. The doctor thinks you know something you're not telling. MORGAN (defensive) I know something, all right, but this is the first time anybody _asked_ me! WOLENCZAK (blowing the filament on the last lightbulb in the pack) You're absolutely right, Ensign. We have _got_ to stop underestimating you. (beat) Now what _do_ you know? MORGAN Well, I've transferred the data on Trueman's disk back to the main computer. Percell wrote something that was supposed to bring them back in an hour... WOLENCZAK (incredulous) _Them_? You mean there were _two_ of them in on this? MORGAN (tonguetied) Well, Sir, actually, Sir, there were sort of three. (beat, explaining) They asked me whether this thing of theirs would create an ionizing stream, but, frankly, the whole thing seemed so off-the-wall that I didn't think they'd actually _do_ anything. And with all the viruses and other bugs we've had, I didn't make the connection between that and the flying toasters and all until... (beat) Until now. I think I can set this right, but I've got to do it from Engineering. WOLENCZAK (to Redshirts) Take her. Quickly. We've only got about eight minutes before that web encircles us. CALLAN (hesitantly) Um, Sir? I gave you a ten-minute estimate back on the bridge, and that was two whole scenes ago. (beat) We're probably webbed, tractored and halfway to Myrtle Beach by now. Wolenczak turns on him angrily. WOLENCZAK Shut up. Don't you know General Order Sixty? (beat, calmer) In highly suspenseful scenes in science fiction shows, chronos automatically slow down to permit a buzzerbeater in the last scene before the tag. CALLAN (humbly) Sorry about that, Chief. CUT TO EXTERIOR _SEAQUEST_--CGI The webbing effect looks to be about ninety-five percent complete. The two small ships are looping above the small remaining space and turning toward each other in preparation for closing the loop. A stunt double in a Spiderman costume is seen from the rear climbing on a closed portion of the web. CUT TO ENGINE ROOM Morgan is already seated at a terminal, with redshirts still in evidence over her. The black hole also remains in evidence. Wolenczak and Callan rush in. MORGAN (turning to them) I finally remembered where I'd seen those toasters before. One of my history courses at the Academy talked about the computer revolutions of the late twentieth century. CALLAN I know. I lost my uncle in the Battle of Puget Sound. MORGAN (impatiently) No, not the wars--the _technical_ revolution! And one of the big steps was something called... (beat, trying to pull it off the computer) Yeah--this is it! Ever hear of Windows '95? WOLENCZAK, CALLAN (unison) Nope. MORGAN (shaking her head) Scary little beast. It fizzled fast and ended up as a footnote in programming history, but it took over computing faster than you could say "Alexander Bourne." And it ate memory about as efficiently as any virus. (beat, tapping a few keys again) I figured those disks of Sara's have such old programming on them, they might have been '95 boot disks. CALLAN (looking down at his feet) Huh? Morgan and Wolenczak exchange long-suffering glances. MORGAN ("why am I surrounded by idiots?") No. (beat) Disks preloaded with the windows operating system that the computer would then "boot" from. If '95 got into something as advanced as our main computer system, who knows _what_ mischief it could do? WOLENCZAK And you think you can stop it in the-- (glancing gleefully at Callan) --thirty seconds we have remaining? MORGAN Sir, I'm no computer expert, but I _do_ remember that whenever any of the greats--Jobs, Gates, Boyd--got hopelessly stuck in a program, all they'd do was hit these-- (zoom on Morgan's hand touching ALT) --three-- (she hits CTRL) --weird-- (she hits DEL) --keys. As we pan back up, we hear swooshing sound to suggest the dissipation of the black hole. We no longer see Wolenczak or Callan, but Trueman and Percell are standing before Morgan exactly as they were before she exited back at the end of Act One. And she picks up exactly where she left off and says... MORGAN Luck. Again she starts to exit, oblivious to everything that has happened. Trueman calls out to stop her. TRUEMAN Anne! Wait! Come back here! Morgan is a bit miffed about how much of her time they're wasting considering they haven't actually _done_ anything. MORGAN Now what? Are you going to turn it on or not? PERCELL What you talking about, girl? We've _been_ there. TRUEMAN Done that. TRUEMAN and PERCELL (unison) Got the t-shirt. PERCELL (resuming the thread) Where were you when the hour was up? Why didn't you recall us?! MORGAN (still miffed but now a bit confused) What are you talking about? I only turned my back on you two a second ago. TRUEMAN (it's now an hour earlier, so the lightbulbs are all restocked) It never happened. (beat, excited) It brought us back, all right, but to the very point of our departure! PERCELL (following the line of reasoning) So you haven't been looking for us? MORGAN No. (beat, thoughtfully) But now that you mention it, I'm having these funny recollections of a guy I don't remember being on board before. TRUEMAN What did he look like? MORGAN I have no idea. CUT TO CORRIDOR Trueman and Percell are recalling their experiences, _pretty_ sure it all happened, at least to them, and relieved that nobody had anything to get into trouble over. Wolenczak approaches; they quickly put the brakes on both walk and discussion, tensing a bit. They aren't _entirely_ sure they aren't in trouble for _something_. To their surprise, Wolenczak's manner is conciliatory. WOLENCZAK (to Trueman) Ensign, I've been doing some thinking and some checking about our little, um, discussion earlier. There have already been some things written about the previous... He trails off, still not wanting to reveal "too much"--heh heh heh--to Percell. WOLENCZAK (continues) ...Incidents you were looking into, so I don't think there's any security risk in your pursuing this interest of yours. TRUEMAN (surprised, but with a "too little too late" disappointment behind her reply) Sir, I...don't know what to say. WOLENCZAK Say you'll do this in the proper way through proper channels. Say you'll make a formal institute proposal and work within the restrictions you're given. Say you'll do this on your own time. (beat, firmly) And conduct any actual experiments off this boat. (looking worried, "worst case scenario") The last thing I need is a black hole in my engine room. TRUEMAN Thank you, Sir. To be honest, the idea's not as exciting as it seemed at first. (beat) You were right--too many things could go wrong. WOLENCZAK That's up to you. If you stay within the lines, you'll have my support. Wolenczak's PAL beeps. He's never looked so happy over a noisy interruption. WOLENCZAK (answering it) Wolenczak. VOICE (over PAL) Sir, the Secretary General is on the line. WOLENCZAK On my way. (to the others) Duty calls. It's nice to have all these things working again. He turns and heads back the way he was heading when the three met up. Trueman and Percell continue heading where _they_ left off. TRUEMAN I can understand how the code got garbled. (beat) Good thing, too--whatever they did to "retrieve" us seems to have fixed the bugs in the communications. (beat, shaking her head) But what do you think was directing us while we were in there? PERCELL (breezily) Oh, who knows? God, fate, time, whatever... Wilson comes down the corridor toward them, finally meeting them head-on, but the camera shot is off-face. WILSON (casually) Well, heidy-ho, time travelers. Getting a little philosophical today, I see. TRUEMAN (baffled) Waitasec. Who _are_ you? (beat) And what do _you_ know about this? WILSON It's like this. He holds up very long strand of linguini. WILSON (continues) This linguini represents your life. This end represents your birth, this end-- (taking a bite) --Hmmmm, a little too al dente--your death. Pour some marinara sauce over it, serve it with parmesan cheese, you're bound to get something on the front of your shirt. (beat, musing) The native inhabitants of Sicily figured that out years ago--that's why they invented bibs with maps of Italy on them for us to wear during dinner. PERCELL (dumbfounded) I have _no_ idea what you're talking about. WILSON (nodding) That's the point.Now you're supposed to go inside and try to explain what I just said to Jill-- (another lightbulb goes off as he looks around) Waittttt a minute--where's their backyard? WHERE'S MY FENCE? Ta- taaaaaaaaa.... He exits hastily. PERCELL and TRUEMAN (to each other) Arrrr...Arrrr...Arrrr FADE--QUICKLY--TO BLACK THE END Copyright 1997, 2047 staff. Prosecutors will be trespassed.