SCENES from

1. IN THE PHARMA BAR

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ORION, IRVING sit with pretty, brainy SIERRA, voluptuous MAYA on a futuristic couch and chairs in a section of the bar. All four wear AIM uniforms, watch a giant TV: Talk show host ELWIN HILLARD sits behind his desk. MINISTER OF THE ARTS (male) sits in the guest chair.

ELWIN (ON TV): Thirty years after the great war, the world enjoys true peace thanks to this man. The Minister of the Arts has been called the architect of planetary healing with his culture of love and economic program to ensure all citizens...

IRVING: (to Orion, impatient) Come on! Just tell us!

ORION: Did you guys catch the eclipse over the city? (when Sierra, Maya grin) Well, guess what? We're going up there. Team J Four has been chosen as droid inspectors.

IRVING: I knew it! Awesome.

ELWIN (ON TV): Tell us about your new line of droids for the S.E. One.

ARTS (ON TV): It's a whole new level of human interaction, Elwin.

SIERRA:  Great, but why monitor them? They're flawless.

ARTS (ON TV): They're your friend, they're your competitor, and if you want, your lover.

MAYA: (to Sierra) That's what makes it such a cushy job!

ORION: It's only for the first week or so, for the company's protection. We're expected to interact with the programs, test how the droids interface with guests, but also to blend in.

IRVING: A week on the S.E. One. Yeah!

ELWIN (ON TV): Your critics have called the sexual programming of the droids immoral. (On the screen, Arts LAUGHS heartily.

In the bar, a Waitress brings drinks labeled "Pleasure Principle.")

ELWIN (ON TV): How do you respond to criticism that the money would have been better spent researching hyper-drive so we could colonize space?

(Orion nods TV sound off. The Four drink. MUSIC with a strong beat starts, Foursome dance. Sierra dances up close to Orion, who smiles distractedly.

The TV screen lights up with the image of Belinda Fawn, then cuts to gown shots of her on a red carpet amongst celebrities.)

ORION: Just a second. I want to hear this.

REPORTER (ON TV): (rises to full volume) ...Miss Fawn is in town to attend the premiere of her holo-film "Creation" based on the ride of the same name that features interactive music, art and storytelling... (The screen displays a video of Belinda in a photo shoot, glamorous photos. Orion stops dancing to watch. Sierra dances, grins.)

SIERRA:  Got a crush on a movie star, eh?

ORION: I debugged the droid she's singing with at the opening ceremony.

(Satisfied, Sierra dances closer. Orion joins in, but still watches the screen. Sierra tries to distract him.)

REPORTER (ON TV): Fawn's performance will launch the holographic ride after docking of guests begins in just six days.

COMPUTER (V.O.): I notice your interest. Would you like to watch a movie starring Belinda Fawn? Or a music video? For a nominal fee it can even be holographic.

(The others smile at Orion, who looks found out, await answer.)

ORION: Uh, no. Not right now, thank you. (Irving dances over, speaks into Orion's ear.)

IRVING: Got an awesome porn clip of her if you're interested. Holographic. I mean awesome. I'll make you a copy. (Orion looks at him with disgust, shakes his head, moves away.)

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Inspectors, Droids sit at tables. SIERRA snags eager android ANDREW, dressed as a Beatnik, as he walks by, looks him over with pride and admiration.

SIERRA:  So this ride is basically just a cafe. All you do in here is talk?

ANDREW: Not just talk. Converse on every known topic, participate in political, philosophical or religious debates, reminisce, eulogize, engage in small talk, pillow talk, or if you like, sparring matches. We are also programmed to play cards or computer games, arm wrestle, settle bets on minutia, discuss books and movies, and of course, have sexual relations.

SIERRA: (hands to her own throat) Would you be willing to choke me while we're doing it?

ANDREW: (takes second to process) I'm sorry, but that would not be allowable behavior on my part.

SIERRA: Safeguards functional. Good.

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INT. SLEAZY BAR – DAY - Slimy thugs CALHOUN and ALF sit at the bar with android Barflies, Bartender, in fifties suits, hats.

ALF: What the hell is there to frigging debate? I say disable all three safeguards. Or at least two.

CALHOUN: Even two they'll notice right away.

ALF: So what? The deed'll be done.

CALHOUN: The bosses, they got it all figured out. In case our boy don't take the bait tonight.

ALF: Oh, he'll take it, all right. He's the Minister of the Arts. He likes that Greek mythology shit. Likes the boys just as much, if you catch my meaning. Even if the boy is a droid. 

IN THE BACK ROOM

ARCH 209 comes in, closes door. Calhoun, Alf step toward him. Arch waits. Calhoun smiles, displays a gloved left hand.

CALHOUN: Good. An unassigned droid doesn't talk first. Computer, mute sound. Delete record. F-I-three-seven-two-six-one. (to Arch) Present interface.

(Arch smiles innocently, holds out left hand, grasps Calhoun's gloved hand. Gloves glow with digital transfer. Arch blinks with surprise, then lapses into a devious expression.)

CALHOUN: (before letting go) You know who the Minister of the Arts is, don't you?

ARCH: (callous) I certainly do. My creator.

CALHOUN: Your creator. How about that. Well, it's time for you to get to know your creator. Real well.

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EXT. DESERT – DAY - ORION walks through the empty desert, up a slight hill, sees a FEMALE GUEST below in only a bra, hands covering her crotch. Android ARCH 209, wearing an alien outfit and devious grin, turns toward the approaching Orion, holding a pair of panties.

ARCH: I'm so glad you're here, sir, so you can settle this.

(Orion freezes in surprise and terror. He turns away from Arch and looks at Female Guest. She gapes, then gives him a shy smile. Orion recovers his wits.)

ORION: Let the guest talk first.

FEMALE GUEST: Tell him to give me back my panties!

ARCH: So you wish to end your story.

FEMALE GUEST: I don't! I didn't say that. I just want my panties back.

ARCH: I'm sorry, but the strip search is not completed. You could still be smuggling the death serum onto the planet Zelforp.

ORION: Give her the panties, Arch. (Arch stands firm, wearing a defiant smile.)

INT. BOHEMIAN CAFE – DAY - SOCRATES, SIERRA hold a conversation at the table among Fans.

SOCRATES: Forget the meaning of life. That's just basic drives and the purpose we all define for ourselves. Let's talk about the nature of life. What makes us human? Take my new friend Arch here... (He indicates android Arch, casual wear, on his other side.) You modeled his brain after ours. Is he an individual? Does he have a unique consciousness with its own perspectives and desires? If so, he deserves the same rights as we.

SIERRA: There are two thousand identical models of each droid on the S.E. One. Each one is a separate consciousness, but put in a particular situation they'll all behave in exactly the same way.

SOCRATES: Maybe at first. But exposed to different experiences over time, they're bound to become individuals with their own unique responses.

(Sierra raises a finger to her ear, listens. Socrates smiles.)

SIERRA: You're joking, right?... Which one?... Arch. You can't be serious... Just give me a minute. (Socrates grins, touches his finger to her ear.)

INTERCUT - INT. DESERT - DAY/EXT. BOHEMIAN CAFE - DAY - Orion holds Arch by the arm, holds the finger of his other hand to his own ear. Arch grins at impatient Female Guest, now in bra and panties.

ORION: Thank you for your interest, Mr. Salvatore. We've got it all under control... Yes. Arch Two-O-Nine.

(Socrates grins at abashed Sierra, each with finger to ear.)

SOCRATES: He wouldn't give them back? That's fantastic! (to Arch at table) Arch. Say you're conducting a strip search on a Guest. The woman wants her panties back. What do you do?

ARCH: Give them back, sir. She's a guest.

SOCRATES: (to Orion, Sierra) A piece of advice, you two. Better start honoring your droids' civil rights. They just might qualify for them.

In the desert, Orion releases Arch. Female Guest's eyes flash in excitement.

FEMALE GUEST: You know, if the droid's broken, maybe you could fill in for him.

ANNOUNCER (FILTERED): One minute to Belinda Fawn's performance.

ORION: Look. He's not broken. He's all yours. Or hold on a second. (gloved left hand to Arch) Present interface. (Arch hesitates. Orion insists. They grip hands. Gloves glow with info transfer. A bra lands on Arch's head. Arch grins, pursues Female Guest. Orion shakes his head and sprints over the hill.)

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INT. CREATION THEATER – DAY - MUSIC starts. Curtain rises on Belinda in a sexy gown, Arch in a tux. Belinda looks out into the dark audience, can't see anything. She smiles at Arch and--

BELINDA:  (SINGING) I can't think of a worse match, you and me. I'm made of blood and bones, you're full of circuitry.

ARCH:  (SINGING) Don't hold it against me, or if you do you'll see, that my skin's just as soft, my words as sweet, as your guy who'll die before I even need my first servicing.

(The audience LAUGHS. ORION enters through a side door, sits. Recognizes Arch on stage, trains his eyes on him.)

BELINDA:  (SINGING) Oh no! Whatever could we have in common? I like sunsets, you tap into neural nets. I like to eat hot fudge, you're built to clean toxic sludge. You love to calculate, configurate, estimate, enumerate. Me, I love to dance...

(She dances across the stage.)

ARCH:  (TALKING) Oh, but I can dance, if you only give me a chance...

(He dances after her, they launch into a ballroom dance number. Still dancing--)

BELINDA:  (SINGING) Okay, so you can dance. But I also like romance.

ARCH:  (SINGING) My lady, if you're ready to fall, I'm eager to give you my all. For I beg you to recall, I'm fully functional. (He dips Belinda into a kiss, holds it. She tries not to struggle. The audience LAUGHS, HOOTS. Orion grimaces. (APPLAUSE, CHEERS. Lights come up. Arch offers Belinda his hand, but she only bows, scans theater. Truly sorry--)

ARCH: I'm sorry, Miss Fawn. I was required to do that. (Belinda nods. Arch exits.)

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INT. TEAM QUARTERS - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

ORION, still in uniform, sits on the couch, wearing a troubled expression as he reviews the TV screen:

ON TV: Orion confronts Arch 209, woman's underwear in hand, in the desert. Orion reacts as Arch speaks--

ARCH (O.S.): I'm so glad you're here, sir, so you can settle this.

ON TV: Orion freezes in surprise and terror. He turns away from Arch and looks at Female Guest. She gapes, then gives him a shy smile. Orion recovers his wits. The recording starts again up to when Orion freezes.

ON THE COUCH: Orion blinks at the TV which replays

ON TV: Orion's face closeup, freezing in fear, replayed a few times.

ON THE COUCH: Orion winces, swears to himself, sees Sierra, in uniform, enter. He quickly nods the TV off.

SIERRA: Was that the...you know...with the malfunctioning droid?

ORION: Yeah. I was, uh, replaying it. To figure out what, uh, happened.

SIERRA: Yeah? (She stands expectantly. Orion freezes. Sierra finally shrugs and leaves.)

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INT. BOHEMIAN CAFE – NIGHT - SIERRA, SOCRATES at table. Behind them, a screen flashes with historical, cultural images. Sierra holds the thumb drive.

SIERRA: The main computer will tell us if there's any neural malfunction. I can't access it here.

SOCRATES: Malfunction! We malfunction all the time. Think of what you're doing. It's not like you're checking his delinquent parking fines. He's an individual now, with the same civil rights as you or I. Running this is like peeking in the bedroom window of his psyche. It's an invasion of privacy of the most egregious kind.

SIERRA: (challenging smile) Come on, admit it. You're curious. (Socrates responds to her grin with a look of renewed lust.)

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EXT. CITY PARK – DAY - ORION walks into a deserted wooded area with picnic benches. He turns to sit on a bench, sees BELINDA, skimpy dress, sitting up in the tree above him.

ORION: Belinda! (She smiles at him teasingly, then hops down, sits beside him.) Cute joke. You know, this Psyche ride has actually been kind of interesting. I'm just glad you know when to quit.

BELINDA: Oh no. Sorry about that. I'm not Miss Fawn. I'm your Miss Fawn.

ORION: My Miss Fawn?

BELINDA: Your ideal version of her...me. I embody everything you know is true about me, that I am the perfect woman for you in every way. And it's been murder to keep my hands off you this long. Come here. (She moves toward Orion, who, tempted, backs off, moves away.)

ORION: I don't want the ideal Belinda. I want the real Belinda.

(He sits on the sunny grass. After a moment, Belinda steps over, sits beside him. She is beautiful, irresistible. She turns to him, gazes into his face. He lets her kiss him, eyes closed. He opens them, sees it's now SIERRA, jumps back.)

ORION: That was a dirty trick. How did you do that?

SIERRA: Oh, I'm not the real Sierra. I'm the reality you've been ignoring.

ORION:  (grins) Boy, this is quite a ride. Look. Even if you're just a droid, the real Belinda might get the wrong idea when she shows up. So vamoose, okay? (off her silence) Okay, I will. (He runs off into the woods. She smiles, chases after him.)

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INT. COLLEGE LIBRARY – NIGHT - SIERRA and SOCRATES sit at a table. Sierra holds a finger to her ear.

SIERRA: His signal must be scrambled by one of the rides. Otherwise, believe me, he'd answer. No matter what he was doing.

SOCRATES:  Really. Tell me more about this Orion fellow.

EXT. GRASS BESIDE POND – DAY - Orion runs up, breathless, looks back to see if the coast is clear, tucks up on grass, sits. He turns, sees android Sierra lying beside him in the torn, bleached clothes of a castaway.

ORION: Okay, make it quick. I mean, whatever you want. Besides that.

SIERRA: (grins) You know you want me, Orion. Just as importantly, you know I want you too. Remember, I'm not the real Sierra. I'm the one in your head. That means I play by your rules. No strings attached. Total secrecy. And it goes without saying, anything you want in--

ORION: Stop it! Look. It's not that I don't find you, well, ravishing--

SIERRA: I know, I know. Miss Fawn. Okay, down to business. I have a message for you.

ORION: You do. From Sierra? What is it?

SIERRA: Sorry. I'm not allowed to tell you.

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INT. COLLEGE LIBRARY – NIGHT - SIERRA, SOCRATES sit at a terminal.

SOCRATES: Tell me what you came up with.

SIERRA: Not a trace of tampering or malfunction, but the three safeguards are all somewhat compromised. This is curious. Conscience has the lowest readings.

SOCRATES: (grins) It's the morals that go first.

SIERRA: In this case, yes, though they're coming back. And judgment and nurturing instinct are going down.

SOCRATES: How so?

SIERRA: Just the way the safeguards are designed. If one goes, the other two adjust down to level it out. The result? The world's first android evil genius.

(She suddenly raises finger to ear. Socrates waits, curious. She taps ear. To Socrates:)

SIERRA: But apparently not the last. Ten new cases of Two-O-Nine Syndrome.

SOCRATES: Is that what they're calling it? Two-O-Nine Syndrome. The artificial intelligence formula for life.

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INT. TALK SHOW SET – NIGHT - Talk show host Elwin Hillard sits behind his desk with ANDREA, suffragette dress, in the first guest's seat.

ELWIN: Good for you, Andrea, using your Two-O-Nine status as a platform for your political message. But doesn't it make more sense to start with civil rights for all androids?

ANDREA: Oh no. I'm not about to wait a hundred forty-three years to win gender equality. That is, unless absolutely necessary. (She gets a LAUGH from audience.)

ELWIN:  Pretty scary if you think about it.

ANDREA: What's that, Elwin?

ELWIN: Just that you droids are going to outlive us all. I mean, assuming no one deactivates you! (another laugh from audience) Oh well... Speaking of immortal, let me introduce our next guest, that glorious priestess of the written word, Phoebe Myrtle.

(The audience CLAPS as PHOEBE, revealing dress, strolls on and up to Elwin, who reaches over to share an air kiss. Phoebe prepares to sit, waits for Andrea to move. Andrea scans Phoebe's outfit disapprovingly, moves slowly over. Phoebe sits.)

ELWIN: Phoebe. So glad you could pay us a visit. You've been a rising star of late, and now this latest triumph in ancient Greece. What do you have in store for us tomorrow?

PHOEBE: I'm shifting forward about a thousand years, Elwin, to the Roman empire.

ELWIN: Do I hear orgies and gladiator fights to the death?

PHOEBE: Sorry, Elwin. You'll just have to wait and find out like everybody else.

ELWIN: Phoebe, you naughty girl! Speaking of naughty, you can at least share your other little triumph with us.

PHOEBE: Oh, that? Well, if you insist... (She looks offstage. ARCH 209 strides on, grins and bows to the CHEERING audience. Andrea, Phoebe move down. Arch hesitates, stunned eyes fixated on Andrea, finally sits.

ELWIN: Glad to meet you, Arch Two-O-Nine.

ARCH: (glancing at Andrea) Call me Arch. Thanks for having me on, sir. Truth is, my programming has been overwhelmed by the, well, attention thrust upon me.

ELWIN: Overwhelmed? How so?

ARCH: Well, for example, I know I am exceptional but we're not permitted to become egotistical. The internal conflict is quite interesting.

ANDREA: (grins at Arch) I know exactly what you mean about conflict! I'm fighting for the rights of women, but I actually hate women, like I dream of killing them. Of course I can't. (Stage and audience go silent. Andrea waits, grinning.)

I'm joking! (off uncertain laughter) I actually love women. In fact, I prefer them to men though of course my programming makes me quite versatile in that respect. I'm sorry. I'm afraid I have a long way to go with my comic timing.

(Arch gives her a look of disgust. She returns it, half smile.)

PHOEBE: You are kooky, I'll give you that. Too bad you can't join us in Rome.

ANDREA: (to Arch) Oh yeah, because you're the only Two-O-Nine allowed to participate.

ARCH: I’m not just A Two-O-Nine. I AM Two-O-Nine. And a gifted thespian.

(Band leader ROWAN, with band side-stage, puts in:

ROWAN: Get a room, you two! (Audience LAUGHS. Drummer punctuates it with a roll. Arch, Andrea grin. Phoebe smiles ironically.)

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INT. STORY BOARD – DAY - PHOEBE stares at the silent monitor of Arch and Calhoun in frustration. Behind her, ORION, back in uniform, enters the booth with BELINDA, in a sexy dress, and ALF in uniform. Phoebe clicks off Arch before anyone can see the scene.

DAUGHTER (ON TV): Brutus used to be so kind and gentle. Now I fear he is going to join with my father's enemies.

ORION: Sorry to barge in like this, Miss Myrtle, but you've got to let me enter your story.

PHOEBE: As who?

ORION: Uh, Marc Antony?

DAUGHTER (ON TV): You must stop him, Marc Antony!

ORION: A Centurian, then. I'll do my best not to interfere with the story.

ALF: Orion already has the rest of his team in the story, ma'am. The belly dancer,

the eunuch, even Cleopatra.

PHOEBE: (furious, to Orion) You're telling me you sent your clubfooted droid inspectors in to play major parts in my story!

BELINDA: Have to admit they're doing pretty well.

PHOEBE: That's not the point. No more droid inspectors. That's final. Out. Out!

(Orion glares at her, gives Alf a dirty look, goes. Belinda follows, then Alf. Phoebe clicks Arch back on. Still silent.)

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INT. BATHROOM – DAY - ARCH 209 steps in the room, doesn't see CALHOUN behind the door. He closes the door, sees Calhoun.

ARCH: What the hell are you doing here?

CALHOUN: Is that any way to talk to your biggest fan? I made you, you know. I'm the guy that first talked that author lady into sticking you in a story. Not to mention...

ARCH: What?

CALHOUN: Never mind. You bring the little present my buddy Alf left you?

ARCH: What do you expect me to do with a wooden knife?

CALHOUN: Oh, I think you know. Caesar is too powerful. He must be stopped before he destroys Rome. And you with it.

ARCH: (laughs) You think I'm stupid enough to do that? They would deactivate me.

(Calhoun moves toward Arch, who takes a step back.)

CALHOUN: I thought you might not be ready. Present interface.

(Arch LAUGHS nervously, raises his hand toward Calhoun. Calhoun grips it with his gloved hand. Arch receives programming. His face hardens into a look of pure evil.)

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