Jonah
J O N A H
A WHALE
glides across the deep. It’s skin is ravaged by the forces of space and time. Beyond imagination the things it’s seen. Comets crashing. The birth of distant stars. Asteroids surrounded by a halo of moons.
The whale swims beyond the eclipse of an enormous gas cloud and moves into the light of two distant revolving suns. The whale’s barnacled skin - the glass and metal of countless solar cells - reflect red and gold like a dragon’s scales.
This whale is a ship. This ocean is the universe.
THE ARTERIES OF THE WHALE -
are corridors that go on and on. Moving sidewalks are still. Deserted.
GLEAMING HALLS
The clear ceiling looking up to the stars. Deserted.
ENORMOUS METAL WALLED PLAZAS
Deserted.
VAST CARGO HOLDS
are filled with metal crated machinery. Space suits line the walls. Landing vehicles and shuttle craft are in formation, ready. No sound. Deserted.
A REACTOR PLANT
is the heart of the whale. In a vast metallic canyon are three domed reactors. The air glows red. No people. No workers. Deserted.
AN OBSERVATION DECK
looks out upon the deep like the skybox of God. Deserted.
ENGINES
glow red on the flukes of the whale. Antennae trail like lamprey eels. The whale swims on through the deep.
ON THE BRIDGE OF THE SHIP
A man, 20’s, lies on a padded reclining chair. Hairless head. Eyes closed. Holding something in his hand that connects by a wire to the console in front of him. The console board throbs with light, hums a soft electronic song. And then a voice. A woman’s voice.
COMPUTER
Jonah. It’s time.
Lights flicker on the console. A subliminal electronic message is been passed. The man, Jonah, opens his eyes. One eye is pale blue, the other is green. The wire drops from his hand. At the end of the wire is a metal egg. The egg slowly retracts into the control board.
JONAH
How long have I been out?
COMPUTER
Fourteen hours, twenty three minutes and fourteen point six-two-one seconds.
JONAH
I must have needed it.
(rising)
How is everything?
COMPUTER
A solar cell on hull 4-7, sector Harry is off line. Longitude 67, latitude, 41.1. I suspect meteor damage. And a motherboard in one of the stasis computers has a cold. I attempted a remedy but she asked for you.
JONAH
I’ll take care of it.
COMPUTER
And don’t forget to eat. Your bio-mass is down point 0-5-1-6 percent.
JONAH
Maybe later.
Jonah exits.
EXT. THE WHALE -
A speck in a vein on the back of the whale is moving
INT. SURFACE CORRIDOR -
Jonah stands on a moving sidewalk. The universe above his head. Off to the side several kinds of the ever-present maintenance droids are working. One is large - a floor polisher. Two are small - dust weevils. A voice comes from a display panel as Jonah passes.
COMPUTER
If you’d like I could prepare you something - a nice protein shake?
Or perhaps something from the krill-freeze.
JONAH
Sara.
For that is the computer’s name.
SARA
Yes, Jonah?
JONAH
You’re a terrible cook.
Is it possible? The maintenance droids seem to twitter and hum with electronic laughter.
SARA
I’m merely trying to be helpful. There’s no cause to be insulting.
INT. STASIS BAY -
A wall parts. Jonah enters. It is as if he is underwater. The bay is filled with soothing blue light.
JONAH
So who’s not feeling well?
A display panel blinks by the door.
SARA
Daphne K433.
Whistling to himself, Jonah moves forward. Into a bay. To his right, the three story high wall is a mosaic of screens and lights.
To his left the wall is made up of what appears to be a series of three foot by seven foot glass lockers. The glass is opaque with condensation - whatever is in the locker is tremendously cold. There is perhaps twenty feet between the walls.
As Jonah passes the screens, lights dance and a cacophony of friendly voices - all women - greet him.
WOMAN’S VOICES
Hello, Jonah. Jonah! Long time no see. Hi, Baby. Ain’t it just like man? Etc.
SARA
Decorum, ladies. This is serious.
The voices grow silent. And then, a screen blinks:
A WOMAN’S VOICE
Party pooper.
FROM ABOVE -
Looking down through a maze of massive ducts and pipes, we see that the walls turn at right angles, forming library-like stacks that goes on and on, disappearing into the distance. Far below, Jonah walks. Footsteps echoing.
JONAH
comes to section D. He turns. He walks down the corridor. He steps onto a plate.
JONAH
K level. 433.
The plate rises - up and up. Woman’s voices murmur, greeting him. The plate stops. The plate moves sideways. And stops in front of a screen.
JONAH (cont’d)
Hey, Daphne.
Lights on the screen oscillate.
DAPHNE
(an older woman’s voice)
Hello, Jonah.
JONAH
So what’s the problem?
DAPHNE
Just a slight temperature. These old bones are feeling their age.
JONAH
Sara couldn’t handle it?
DAPHNE
She’s terribly brusque.
A panel flickers.
SARA
I am not.
ANOTHER SCREEN/WOMAN’S VOICE
You are, Sara, you have the manners of a plumber.
SARA
Quiet, you!
JONAH
Okay, stick out your tongue.
And a control panel slides from beneath the 433 screen. Jonah’s fingers fly over the keys.
JONAH (cont’d)
Your nitrogen’s up half a degree. And your REM waves are oscillating. There - that should help.
(and then:)
How’s the baby?
DAPHNE
Sleeping like a lamb.
JONAH
I’ll take a fast look.
Jonah turns.
JONAH (cont’d)
Cross.
The plate glides across the corridor to the opposite wall. Lights flicker beneath the frozen glass. The plate stops. Jonah reaches out and wipes condensation from a metal plate. Daphne - 433. There’s a thumb print below the number. Jonah presses his thumb to it. A hum. A vein glows red in Jonah’s hand. Numbers flicker, reflected in Jonah’s eyes. He takes his thumb away.
JONAH (cont’d)
He’s fine.
And reaching out, Jonah now wipes away condensation from the glass in front of him. He stares at the BOY within; asleep, frozen in a tank of cold blue. Dreaming.
INT. STASIS BAY -
Jonah retraces his steps through the bay.
SARA
Daphne’s such a complainer. My manners are perfectly fine.
JONAH
Make sure she has a dula on back up, Sara. And run a check on all stasis tanks.
SARA
Why, do you think there’s something going around?
JONAH
I didn’t like the look of the REM waves.
SARA
I’ll get right to it.
At an intersection of corridors, Jonah stops.
JONAH
And Sara?
SARA
Yes?
JONAH
How about cooking me dinner?
SARA
(if a com’s voice can beam:)
A coq au vin, I think. With a mixed green salad from the compost tanks. Oh, and do you like snails?
JONAH
No.
SARA
You’ll like these. I do them with a jalepeno-mayonnaise dip. Twenty minutes, in the Manhattan room.
JONAH
I’ll be there.
(to himself:)
Jalapeno what?
Jonah start to move on but stops. He ponders a moment. He turns now and walks down a side corridor.
JONAH (cont’d)
Hey, Agnes.
A cacophony of females voices - section Agnes - greet Jonah in return. He steps onto a plate.
JONAH (cont’d)
Lift.
The plate lifts. In front of Jonah, the lockers pass, each glass locker opaque with frost.
JONAH (cont’d)
Stop.
(it stops)
Closer.
The plate closes towards the locker. And stops. Jonah hesitates. And reaches out. Wipes away frost and condensation. And stares. At the face of the woman within. Beautiful. Serene. Frozen. Jonah stares. THE NAME PLATE - Agnes 221.
INT. THE MANHATTAN ROOM -
The room is a restaurant seeming, on top of the World Trade Center. The night time Manhattan skyline is ablaze out the window. Jonah sits alone at a perfectly set table, eating.
SARA
Do you like the snails?
JONAH
... interesting.
SARA
I’m sick about the salad dressing. The kitchen com seems incapable of synthesizing a decent olive oil.
JONAH
The wine’s good.
SARA
Enjoy it while you can. We’re down to the last four thousand cases.
Jonah is silent.
SARA (cont’d)
Would you like me to change the view?
JONAH
Please.
And now beyond the windows is THE GRAND CANYON. Jonah squints at the sudden bright light.
SARA
Sorry.
The view changes to an ocean sunset.
JONAH
What’s that, Sara?
SARA
The ocean.
(a moment)
For dessert, I made creme brule.
THE WHALE
glides through the deep. To the sounds of a grand piano. Beethoven.
THE WHALE
echoes with the music. Corridors and rooms empty except for the droids. Not cleaning now. Listening. Sensor lights flickering note for note with the music.
ON ONE OF THE OBSERVATION DECKS -
With the universe behind him, Jonah sits at a grand piano playing. On a far wall, a display panel’s lights also flicker and dance. Sara. And now Jonah segues from Beethoven into Chuck Berry. The droids like Chuck Berry.