FARSCAPE

COLD OPEN

STOCK CGI - EARTH - EXT. DAY

Shuttle launch at Canaveral, the shuttle Collaroy accelerates under booster rocket power from the launch pad at Canaveral, as seen in Premiere. Camera shots alternate between John, piloting the Farscape module, and D.K. and Jack, in the control room at Canaveral.

JOHN: Are you with me there, mama bear?

D.K.: Oh yeah, Farscape. I'm reading you loud and clear.

JOHN: Authorizing Flight Computer to initiate acceleration sequencing... now.

D.K.: Roger, Farscape. You are go for insertion procedure.

STOCK CGI - EARTH ORBIT - EXT. SPACE

Farscape One begins experimental run, launching from the open bay doors of the space shuttle Collaroy, as seen in Premiere.

D.K.: Farscape One, hold a moment.

JOHN: Hold? Canaveral... what?

D.K.: Meteorology reports some kind of electromagnetic wave. Repeat... some kind of wave. John, do you read me?

JOHN: ( reply over communications is garbled )

JACK: Son, you have to abort. Abort now!

STOCK CGI - EXT. SPACE - EARTH ORBIT

The Farscape module intersects the leading edge of the energy wave as seen in Premiere.

INT. - HOSPITAL ROOM

John is stretched out on a table, center foreground. Jack Crichton is standing in the background, his back to the exam table, talking on a cell phone.

JACK: ( aside to caller ) I only know what the doctor told me. ...

JOHN: ( muttering hoarsely ) What the hell?

JACK: ( aside to caller ) I think he's gonna come out of it on his own. ( beat ) All right. I'll call you if there are any changes. ( beat ) Goodbye.

Disoriented, and with fumbling fingers, John tears the EEG contacts from his forehead - the bg sounds of equipment monitoring become irregular.

JACK: John?

JOHN: ( weakly ) That's my name. Don't wear it out.

JACK: ( calling to someone off-camera ) Nurse! Call a doctor. ( to John ) Hey, how you feeling?

JOHN: Hot. Dizzy. Kinda-- feel like I've been hit by a house.

JACK: You're gonna be okay, son. You gave us all quite a scare. I told 'em you were a survivor.

JOHN: Yeah, I am that.

John tries to sit up, Jack moves to help him; gathering his son into an embrace.

JACK: It's good to have you back son.

John grabs hold of his 'father'. Rolling violently off the table, he drives 'Jack' to the floor under him screaming protests all the while; attacking his 'father'.

JACK: ( alarmed ) What are you doing?! Son!

JOHN: ( shouting ) I'm not your son!

JACK: Get him off of me!

Two orderlies charge into the room and tear John off his father. John struggles hysterically with the orderlies.

JOHN: ( screaming ) You're a fake! Get your hands off me! Get 'em off me!

The two orderlies wrestle a struggling John back onto the table- with major difficulties, attempting to restrain him there.

Complete chaos ensues as John thrashes wildly on the table, screaming all the while. Jack, four orderlies, a nurse, and the 'doctor' struggle to restrain him on the table.

JOHN: Get your hands off of me! Don't touch me!

John catches a glimpse of Aeryn, standing beside an orderly at the foot of the table, desperately, his gaze fixes on her, she doesn't seem to notice.

JOHN: Aeryn! Aeryn!

AERYN: ( to second orderly ) Alright, we'll need full restraints, and can you get me a clean I.V. please?

JOHN: ( breathless and desperate ) Jesus, get them off! Get 'em off me, get the bas...t...ards... ( gasping ) ... This is not real! It's not real!

END COLD OPEN

---

ROLL OPENING CREDITS

"My name is John Crichton, an astronaut... ...A radiation wave hit and I got shot through a wormhole... Now I'm lost... in some distant part of the universe on a ship-- a living ship full of strange alien life-forms... Help me... Listen, please. Is there anybody out there who can hear me? ...I'm being hunted by an insane military commander... ...doing everything I can... I'm just looking for a way home."

---

ACT I

INT. - HOSPITAL ROOM

John is strapped to the table, but it's now adjusted to a semi-upright position, an orderly stands in the BG. 'Aeryn' circles the table, conducting a 'cursory' examination throughout scene. John keeps his eyes on her as best he can.

JOHN: Aeryn, Honey, could you get me out of these straps? What happened? Last thing I remember I was on a commerce planet.

'AERYN': Mr. Crichton, my name is Doctor Bettina Fairchild. Not 'Aeryn'.

JOHN: 'Bettina'. Cool name.

DR FAIRCHILD: Still disoriented? You have no brain damage, as far as we can tell. You do have a fever, probably a low-grade infection, but some antibiotics should clear that up. Might clear your head as well.

JOHN: ( whispering ) Hey, are they listening to us? Is that why you can't talk?

DR FAIRCHILD: ( aside to self ) Violent, and now paranoid, perhaps another C.A.T. scan would be indicated.

JOHN: Sorry. I ah... fuzzed out there for a minute. What day is it today?

DR FAIRCHILD: Today is Monday.

JOHN: Monday.

DR FAIRCHILD: It's been a week since you crashed.

JOHN: I crashed? I don't remember crashing. But, I-I did have this... this terrible nightmare. I was on a ship full of aliens.

DR FAIRCHILD: Is that why you went after your father and bruised two of his ribs?

JOHN: Yeah. He-- he looked like he was human... but... he had 'alien goo' on the inside. It was... pretty freaky, huh?

DR FAIRCHILD: But now you know better.

JOHN: Yeah. Yeah, I'm all clear. Look, I'm not gonna hurt anybody. You can-- you can let me out of these straps.

DR FAIRCHILD: You called me Aeryn.

JOHN: Old girlfriend. You-- you look a lot like her. Except you have prettier hair.

DR FAIRCHILD: Mm.

JOHN: Is my dad around?

DR FAIRCHILD: Out in the lounge, I think.

JOHN: I-- I'd like to say I'm sorry.

DR FAIRCHILD: Probably best you do that yourself. ( to orderly ) Thank you. ( to John ) Do you good to move the muscles. Thank you Mr. Crichton.

Doctor Fairchild exits and the orderly moves forward, releasing the restraints holding John to the table.

INT. - HOSPITAL CORRIDOR

LS on John as he enters the corridor and continues to camera.

P.A. VOICE: [V.O.] "Will the owner of the green van parked outside admissions, please move it immediately. You will be towed."

Walking down the corridor, John almost immediately notes a ladies room, whistles to himself and gestures, pointing toward the symbol on the door.

JOHN: ( whistles ) Won't get fooled again.

John pushes the ladies room door open revealing INT. of ladies room... complete with lady.

LADY: ( indignant ) Hey! You mind?

JOHN: Sorry... I ah, thought it was co-ed.

Backing away, John lets the door close and moves on down the corridor.

LADY: Co-ed? ( Fading into background ) What planet are you from?

JOHN: ( muttering to self ) Not this one.

John next passes a man in a navy uniform, and turning back quickly, he hails him.

JOHN: Hey! Yo! Yo, dude? Ah... you done with that paper?

NAVY MAN: Yeah, sure. Here ya go.

JOHN: Thanks.

NAVY MAN: No problem.

Walking down the corridor again, John examines the paper, reading the headline.

JOHN: "Gator Victim Number Six." ... Last week it was five. They're getting the details right.

Close on John as he takes a slight turn, entering a small waiting room with large windows in the background. Jack stands to greet his son.

JOHN: Hey!

JACK: Hey. How you doing?

JOHN: I'm better. I'm much... much better. Listen... I'm, um, Sorry about earlier.

JACK: You don't need to apologize, son. You've been through a lot. I lost it myself when your mother died.

JOHN: ( looking surprised/confused ) Mom...?

D.K.: [O.S.] Papa Bear!

Cut to long on D.K. entering waiting room behind John. John wheels about at the sound of a familiar voice, caught off-guard and quite surprised.

JOHN: Whoa... whoa! D.K.! Hey-hey-hey! You made it this time.

D.K.: Glad you're up and about man. I'm sick of getting reamed on my own.

JOHN: Oh. Getting 'reamed' are we?

D.K.: Well, IASA's got a blown mission. They're tossing around words like... 'Pilot error'.

Close on three shot, John flanked by D.K. and Dad; John looks a bit peeved at D.K.'s comment.

JACK: There was no pilot error. It was meteorology's screw up. They didn't give him enough warning about that electromagnetic wave.

D.K.: He was told to abort a dozen times.

JACK: He did abort.

D.K.: Yeah, not soon enough.... He blacked out.

JACK: And he still managed to land the module.

D.K.: He trashed the sucker! The Farscape Project's circling the drain.

JOHN: ( shrugging ) Okay, what do you want me to do?

D.K.: Pull it together. First thing you need is a clean bill of health.

JACK: Doctor Fairchild says you're okay, physically. But, she's not going to kick you loose without a full psyche report.

JOHN: Doc Betty said that?

D.K.: That's right. You gotta get shrunk.

JACK: She wants to you see a 'Doctor Kaminski'.

John's gaze travels upward, fixing on the ceiling. He's frustrated, but not angry... yet.

JOHN: [V.O.] ( thoughtfully ) Doctor Jean Kaminski....

INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE -

LS across a dark wood paneled office dominated by a small desk and large bookshelves lining the walls. John stands at the far wall, head tipped slightly back, reading a diploma mounted on the wall. Lighting is subdued; a large floor mounted fan is circulating the air in the office. John turns away from the wall.

JOHN: ( muttering ) Man... hot in here.

Stepping to the desk, John sits and picks up the phone receiver; dials a number; making himself at home.

JOHN: ( after short pause ) Hello! Yeah, hey. Ahh... I'd like to order a pizza? ( another short pause ) Well.. um... Medium... Deluxe. ( mutters aside ) Man. These guys are good.

Zhaan enters wearing a very chic blue suit, talking on a cell phone. John looks toward her, the phone hanging slightly away from his face, his jaw hangs slightly as well.

'ZHAAN': ( to caller ) Thank you, Charles.

With a touch of a blue finger the phone emits a tiny electronic beep as Zhaan disconnects the call. John is dumbstruck as she approaches the desk. She looks a bit put out.

'ZHAAN': Sorry to keep you.

JOHN: Zhaan.

'ZHAAN': "Zhaan"... adjective or name?

John returns the phone to the cradle and stands.

JOHN: ( exasperated ) It's a name.

He crosses the room, to camera, to a low table by a couch across the room.

'ZHAAN': Then I'm afraid you're mistaken. I'm Doctor Kaminski.

Lifting a small glass pitcher from the table John pours himself a glass of water and turns back to 'Dr. Kaminski'.

JOHN: Uh huh. And ah, you are a ... Psychiatrist?

DR KAMINSKI: Um hm.

JOHN: I don't think so. On earth... Psychiatrists don't come in blue.

DR KAMINSKI: Do you have a problem with people of color?

JOHN: I have a contextual problem. You're an alien.

DR KAMINSKI: Yes, that's true. But I do have a green card.

JOHN: Interesting. Are you, or are you not, Blue?

DR KAMINSKI: Would it matter to you if I was?

JOHN: Do you always answer a question with a question?

DR KAMINSKI: Does that bother you?

JOHN: Stop it. Facts: You're a Delvian, a plant, Tenth Level Pa'u; we shared unity once.

DR KAMINSKI: "Shared Unity." Interesting euphemism. No, Mr. Crichton, you and I have never had sex. I'm sure I would remember if we had.

Taking a final drink from the glass, John places it on the table and crosses the room to 'Doctor Kaminski', sitting on the edge of her desk.

JOHN: Put your hands on my face.

Looking unwilling to comply, and slightly puzzled, Doc Kaminski gives him a clueless look.

JOHN: Humor me.

Dr. Kaminski stands, raising her hands 'palms forward' toward John's face. Gently taking her hands by the wrists, he positions them on either side of his face.

JOHN: Here.

Her hands loosely cupping his face, John places his own hands on either side of hers, and waits briefly; expectantly. Nothing remotely 'Unity' like happens.

JOHN: ( softly ) ... damn.

DR KAMINSKI: What were you expecting?

Dropping his hands to his sides he backs away slowly, very dejected.

JOHN: Expecting...? Nothing. Hoping... for an ally.

Returning to the couch he flops down, propping his elbow on the arm of the couch.

DR KAMINSKI: You feel you don't have any allies?

JOHN: Not in this joint, no. And my enemies haven't revealed themselves yet.

[ Okay, now, that does sound a little paranoid, doesn't it? ] Doc Kaminiski looks at him sympathetically, as though she suspects he's suffering from rampant paranoia.

DR KAMINSKI: And who are they?

JOHN: The Ancients? Nah, they picked my brain already. Maldis? Uh-uh. Not Gothic enough, not his style. ( with a smirk of realization ) Delvians. Mm... yeah, Occams Razor... Taleen and her wacky bunch. ( sing-song in an 'over the rainbow Munchkin' voice ) Come out, come out, wherever you are, and see the young man who fell from a star.

DR KAMINSKI: ( into intercom ) Kim, cancel my three o'clock appointment. In fact, cancel the rest of my day.

INT - PARKING GARAGE

LS across confusion of your typical parking garage. D.K. greets John as he enters the garage area, presumably exiting the building where Doc Kaminski's office is located.

D.K.: Hey, what did you tell her?

JOHN: Oh; trauma, stress, crash, you know. ( waving hands in the air ) Made me imagine things. Everything she wanted to hear, but hey. I'm all better now.

D.K.: So you got a clean psyche report? Great.

JOHN: Yeah, go...

Tires squeal loudly in BG- L shot on John and D.K. through intervening vehicles and garage structures. John glances toward the noise, then continues walking.

JOHN: ... figure that. She let me loose. I would have locked me up in a padded cell.

Accompanied by a loud squealing of tires and engine gunning, a red convertible approaches John and D.K., and passing them; hooks a broad 180 turn, screeching to a halt.

'D'ARGO': [O.S.] Yeah!

Close on the bottom frame of the vehicle as the door of the convertible opens, and a figure dressed for 'golf' steps out. Camera pans up and we see 'D'Argo', as he steps out of the vehicle and appreciatively greets two ladies in military attire.

'D'ARGO': Oh... ladies.

'D'Argo' continues to speak off camera as John and DK have a discussion on the new arrival. You can't say John isn't surprised at this new development, but he's handling it well.

JOHN: You know that guy?

D.K.: Gary Ragel; newest hotshot to come out of IASA Astronaut training. Watch your back, he's got ambition.

JOHN: Gary Ragel... has tentacles.

D.K.: Yeah.

GARY: ( spotting John and DK ) Oh, my god! -- Oh, my god, it's a straight boy!

JOHN: What? He looks normal to you?

D.K.: It's a lifestyle choice. Anyway, his looks are the least of his problems. He's a jerk.

GARY: Hey, DK! how you doin?! ( Gives DK a fake high five ) Oh da da da dooo! Ohhh, misses there. ( to John ) How you doin?

D.K.: You almost ran us down, Ragel.

GARY: ( to D.K. ) Yeah, not even close my friend. ( to John ) How you doin? My name's Gary Ragel. I know you. You are John Crichton. I've heard you're one hell of a flyer. Let's go get a beer.

John's speechless, but from his expression, you can't say he's 'not' enjoying this turn of events.

D.K.: ( sourly ) We don't have time for a beer.

GARY: Ohhhh... ( mocking D.K. ) "no time for beer."

JOHN: Beer? ( holds up his hand ) Keys.

[ Yep, Gary Ragel is a 'much' cooler friend than D.K. ... ] Gary Ragel tosses John the keys to the convertible. Keys in hand, John circles around Ragel and D.K., exiting shot, presumably to enter the vehicle and join Ragel for a beer. Gary Ragel clasps D.K.'s head in his hands, looking deeply into his eyes.

GARY: One thing you've got to know, my man. There is always... time for beer.

INT. - BAR

LONG on sparsely populated bar. John and Gary sit at a small round table drinking beer. Soft jazz plays in the BG. They are in varying stages of inebriation, continuing a conversation already in progress.

JOHN: I got a theory, though. You wanna hear it?

GARY: ( laughing drunkenly ) Yo... ( points at John, and makes a gunshot noise, continuing to laugh ).

JOHN: ( laughs ) This is an experiment. Somebody's messin' with my mind. Tryin' to see which way I'll move next.

GARY: Sort of like a... 'rat in a maze' kind of thing, huh?

JOHN: That's right. I am some alien's personal science project.

GARY: I so know how you feel. You know; life's a bitch, let's get another drink. ( shouting ) Hey!

JOHN: I got a plan, though... 'cause they're testin' for reactions to the freak show?

GARY: Uh huh.

JOHN: I'm not gonna react - Let 'em deal with that!

GARY: ( laughs ) Yeah!

VOICE: Yeah!

John turns slowly toward the musician's set which 'we' have already seen in the BG. Pilot sits on the stage behind the bongo's of the small jazz combo, but what catches John's eye, is the drummer. Scorpy.

'PILOT': [V.O.] Yow!

Cut back to John watching the Jazz combo with a lax, shocky expression, attempting to process this. Dr. Bettina Fairchild approaches him from behind. She takes his head in her hands, stroking his face gently in warm greeting.

DR FAIRCHILD: ( silkily ) Hey. Buy a girl a drink.

JOHN: Oh, my God! The off duty doctor! ... Join us! ... Uh, Gary Ragel! ... Meet Doctor - Bettina - Fairchild!

GARY: Ohhh.

DR FAIRCHILD: Hi.

GARY: Hi ( laughs ).

Doc Betty crawls onto Gary's lap, a leg peeking boldly out of her long, dark blue sheath skirt, slit judiciously up to the hip. They kiss. John's broad smile evaporates as he watches this without an ounce of amusement.

JOHN: ( deadpan ) Excuse me. You two know each other?

The Doc and Gary take a moment from getting to know each other to casually answer the inquiry before going back to mutual explorations.

DR FAIRCHILD: No.

GARY: Never met ( laughs ) How bout another, Yeah?

JOHN: What?

John's gaze cuts rapidly from Doc Betty to Gary. He's a page or two behind on the action.

GARY: Another drink. More drink! Come on, hey?! Three more drinks! ( laughs )

JOHN: Yeah, I got it.

Walking away from the tangled embrace at his table John spots Scorpy sitting at the bar, tapping his fingers to the music. Stopping abruptly, John looks back at the Scorpy at the drum set, then quickly back at the Scorpy at the bar - sighing with resignation he drains the dregs from his glass and takes the plunge; stepping up to the bar he places his empty on the bar.

JOHN: ( to bartender ) Pitcher of beer.

BARTENDER: Sure, buddy.

The barman takes the glass and disappears. John leans on one hand braced against the bar, turning to Scorpius.

JOHN: Dig your style, Ringo.

SCORPIUS: John, we haven't got much time.

JOHN: ( cutting in, slightly peeved ) Twins - pity your mother.

SCORPIUS: Now listen to me. He - he is not real.

JOHN: Oh, Right. You are... so, what's your name? ( sighs ) Who do you play in this - fun house?

SCORPIUS: You know my name... Scorpius.

JOHN: Scorpy. - You don't fit the pattern. You got not Halloween costume- got no assumed name- you're not playing a role. ( beat ) That suggests something to me. That suggests that you are the man behind the curtain!

Scorpy gets slammed against the bar by an irate John.

SCORPIUS: ( mildly ) In fact, I'm the only one that can help you.

JOHN: ( angrily ) So what are you looking for this time? You looking for wormholes again, huh?

SCORPIUS: In fact, I have to leave now, John.

JOHN: Nuh-uh, you aren't going anywhere!!

Looking more than prepared to beat the crap out of him, John pulls Scorpius away from the bar, flinging him across the room. Before John can do more he's frozen in the grip of some unseen force. John's strangled gasps of pain are punctuated by arched back and out flung arms, tendons stand out in stark relief on his neck, then collapsing; falling slowly forward, face down onto a table. Broken glass scatters across the room.

Bowed across the table, face pressed to the wood, John stares at the drummer who isn't Scorpy as the jazz combo plays on. Close-up on John's left eye, the image of Scorpy is reflected within.

END ACT I

---

ACT II

INT - DR. KAMINSKI'S OFFICE

The good Doc sits behind her desk while John is stretched out as best he can on the short couch across the room. His head propped up by a pillow at one end, legs flung over the arm of the couch at the other. He clutches a pillow to his chest.

JOHN: Okay. Let's talk. You're not Zhaan and you're not a psychiatrist, but you're as close as we'll get to either one.

DR KAMINSKI: I'm flattered somewhat.

JOHN: Look, somebody is gas lighting me! It's probably Scorpius. Gotta-gotta-gotta be Scorpius. Hell, I've been having hot flashes of the bastard ever since he stuck me in the Aurora Chair. ( furrows his brow in intense thought ) Wha-What am I supposed to think?! Uh, what is this? ... uh... I never left Earth?! Ah, ah... the whole 'Moya' thing is-is-is-is an illusion?! It's a- It's a dream?

He shoots a quick glance toward the good Doctor.

JOHN: What does that get him?!

Dr. Kaminski has no answers for him. Sitting up quickly he places the pillow on the table in front of him, fingertips stroking it gently, continuing to think out loud.

JOHN: Even Aeryn. Even Aeryn, I could have bought - Probably not, but I-I-I- could'a bought it.

DR KAMINSKI: Aeryn... you may have caught a glimpse of Doctor Fairchild. She treated you after your crash.

JOHN: Yeah. And my 'feverish imagination' turns her into a Peackeeper Chick. ( considering it ) So... what's the game?

DR KAMINSKI: I wish I could help you, Mr. Crichton.

John holds the pillow close, comforting himself.

JOHN: It's strange... I miss Moya. A ship full of aliens becomes so normal.

DR KAMINSKI: There is of course, another interpretation for your confusion.

JOHN: ( nodding with a wry grin ) Yeah, I'm still on Moya. I'm gibbering... I'm drooling... and everybody's wondering what finally made me snap!

DR KAMINSKI: That is one possibility

JOHN: ( considering ) Maybe.

EXT - IASA OPERATIONS - DAY

A gorgeous, likely post sfx shot, of the main operations area of IASA. The launch pad, replete with shuttle, can be seen to John's left where he stands on the second rail of a guardrail along an exterior walkway. A persistent voice over intercom is accompanied by other muted sounds of a busy operations area. A helicopter passes overhead in the distance. The sky is a brilliant blue, accented by pristinely white puffy clouds - a 'perfect' day. John rocks forward and back, gripping the top rail, peering downward occasionally. 'Dad' and 'D.K.' approach.

JACK: Son. Got some news.

John couldn't 'be' less interested.

JOHN: Oh, yeah? What is it?

JACK: IASA's brought in a new Project Administrator. A 'Douglas Logan'.

D.K.: You can't afford to piss this guy off, John. He's a tough bastard.

John looks enormously pissed, his eyes glitter and we get a hard grin.

JOHN: So what.

JACK: Listen, tough guy or not - right now your future's in his hands.

Suspicious, manic gleam in his eyes, John queries Dad on the new honcho.

JOHN: Thin face... pale skin, bad set of choppers, likes leather?

JACK: ( looking concerned ) I've only talked to him on the phone. I don't know. Nasty piece of work, though.

JOHN: Nasty? Excellent. Let's talk to him.

John charges off - a man on a mission.

JOHN: [O.S.] Come on!

'Dad' and 'D.K.' follow reluctantly.

INT - IASA OFFICE

John enters the office of D. Logan leaving the door slightly ajar. 'Dad' and 'D.K.' enter shortly after.

JOHN: Whoa. Nice digs, man.

John turns about, admiring what is likely a plush office for a bureaucrat. Hearing the whirring sound of an electric engine he turns about again. Rygel drives up on a small electric cart, parking it just behind the desk.

'RYGEL': Hey! Come in, you're late!

JOHN: ( pleased ) Guido! You're here!

John practically dances around the desk, throwing one arm across 'Rygel's' shoulders. He casually takes a lit cigar from the third crewmate to unexpectedly popup, and sets it firmly between his teeth.

JOHN: ( to 'Dad & DK' ) Ho, Hey! Fellas. Meet the new boss. Not the same, as the old boss.

Exhaling slowly, John blows a streamer of smoke toward 'Rygel'.

JACK: Mr. Logan, please excuse my son, he's been through a lot-

D. LOGAN: Shut up! So, you're the reckless son of a bitch who refused to abort - fainted, and wrecked a multi-zillion dollar module!

JOHN: That's me.

John sticks the cigar between his teeth and saunters to the front of the desk.

D. LOGAN: Ah, Astronauts, cockier than God, all of them. Give me one reason why I shouldn't fire your ass and shut down the whole Farscape Project.

John snags a handful of business cards from a tray on the desk and sits, propping one foot on the desktop. Examining the cards, with cigar still clamped between his teeth, he mutters "D. Logan" under his breath.

D.K.: Sir, the project could still bring great benefit to this organization.

JACK: John's experiment will pave the way for deep space exploration, sir.

D. LOGAN: Cork it already!

John continues muttering "D. Logan" under his breath, flinging the cards, one by one, across the desk. In a lucky hit, one smacks Ryge right in the kisser.

D. LOGAN: Quit it with the cards!

John peers briefly at 'Rygel' through a cloud of smoke, his attention quickly returning to the cards.

D. LOGAN: Now listen up. IASA can't afford another failure. We get your sorry project right on the second attempt.

John flings another card, but his expression is speculative. He's listening.

D. LOGAN: Quit it with the cards! People will forget about the first!

JOHN: Second attempt?

D. LOGAN: Yes, the one I just authorized. Now, either you can fly it or Gary Ragel can. I hate to reward failure, but it's better P.R. if you fly it. Public loves come from behind wins!

D.K.: John, the module could be ready within two weeks.

JACK: You can do it again, Son. Prove your theory is correct.

Removing the cigar from his teeth he drops his foot off the desk and leans forward conspiratorially.

JOHN: So, that's the play? The play, the play, the play is the thing.

Snagging a small shuttle model from the desk, John 'soars' it through the air, simulating extraordinary flight maneuvers.

JOHN: ( squinting through a haze of cigar smoke ) I reenact my initial mission. I show you how I create the giant blue twister that sucks me down to Oz!

Simulating an uncontrolled dive, he makes a screeching vehicle out of control noise. D. Logan watches in shocked surprise, his mouth hanging open.

JOHN: Forget about it.

He tosses the tiny model back onto the desk dismissively.

JOHN: ( shrugging ) Don't know how I did it.

D. LOGAN: ( warningly ) Crichton...

Standing, John loudly addresses the open air while 'Dad', 'D.K.' and 'D. Logan' observe in stunned silence.

JOHN: Hey, Scorp! Are you out of your mind?! You think if I knew how I did it, I would help you!? Get lost!!

D. LOGAN: Who the hell are you talking to?!

JOHN: Oh, um... not you...

John passes his hand in front of Logan.

JOHN: You're not real.

D. LOGAN: What?

Finished with this particular 'game' John turns to leave, skating between Dad and D.K. without a backward glance, muttering a disbelieving "D. Logan" one final time under his breath. Dad, bless him, looks a little embarrassed.

D. LOGAN: Wha? - Where are you going?

EXT - PARKING GARAGE

John turns a corner and jogs up an open air stairwell, closely pursued by 'Dad' and 'D.K.'.

JACK: What the hell was that about? Are you trying to sink the Farscape Project?

D.K.: The guy gives us a second chance and you throw it back in his face.

Rounding the mid-floor landing in the open air stairwell, John squeezes past a pair of extras in military attire.

JOHN: Hi girls.

GIRLS: Hi.

Exiting the stairwell at the next floor of the parking garage. John rounds on his pursuers.

JOHN: The guy?! The guy, the guy, t-the guy's a two foot green slug on a-- on a golf cart!

JACK: What does a man's disability have to do with anything?

John sighs heavily and looks skyward as if praying for relief. Further exchange is delayed by the sound of an engine nearing. D. Logan drives up in a little red utility vehicle.

D. LOGAN: Crichton...!

JACK: Son... apologize to him please?

John claps his 'dad' on the arms, giving him a reassuring squeeze, then strides over to the utility vehicle.

D. LOGAN: Crichton... I wasn't finished with you!

JOHN: Ah, honey, I'm sorry, let's kiss an' make up!

John leans into the vehicle and kisses him soundly. D. Logan grunts and struggles, yelping as John drags him out of the cart by the legs and carries him, upside down, up the stairs to the next mid-floor landing.

D. LOGAN: Oh! Are you deranged?!

JOHN: Well, yes of course I am. Let me show you how I crash landed the Farscape Module.

D. LOGAN: How dare you! I could have your hide for this, you understand?!

John swings Logan in a broad circular arc, simulating flight. Logan's arms flail over the long drop below half the circle of his forced circuit. His screamed protests all but drown out John's descriptive recreation of the 'accident'.

JOHN: ( yelling ) "There's an electromagnetic wave!!" ... "Son, you have to abort! Abort now!" ... "John!!" .... "No!!"

John holds Logan over the open air beyond the guardrail surrounding the stairwell, then drops him. 'D. Logan' plummets downward, screaming.

D. LOGAN: Crichton...!!!

D. Logan's screams are cut off by the sound of a loud thud! John sighs, and shrugs - another 'failed experimental flight'. He turns around, greeted by the grim faces of 'Dad' and 'D.K.'. 'D.K.' sighs as though dealing with a recalcitrant child.

JOHN: What? ... It ain't real. They made you up out of my memories. It's just annoying that you're acting exactly the way I thought you would act. You, look at you! ( gesturing to D.K. ) You're crapping yourself because you think you're gonna lose your job. And Dad-- you're just pissed 'cause I ain't playin' the game your way! It. Is. Annoying ! - Go away. Go home-home. Go home! ... Shoo!

John makes 'shooing' motions with his hands before walking away, leaving 'Dad' and 'D.K.' standing on the stairwell.

INT - BAR

Soft Jazz plays in the bar. John stands staring up at the 'Disco Ball'. Taking a drink from a bottle of beer, he begins walking further into the bar. Many people stand around talking... primarily the greeting "Hey" is heard, and John gives it himself as he passes someone. He continues walking, seeming to enjoy the crowd and the music. In a booth in the back, Gary Ragel, Dr. Fairchild, and a friend sit cuddling.

GARY: ( hailing John ) Hi!

JOHN: Como esta, Hombre!

John and Gary complete this ritualistic greeting with a high-five as John slips into the booth opposite the three already there.

DR FAIRCHILD: John, I want you to meet a good friend. This is Jessica.

John glances toward 'Jessica', who we see is represented by 'Chiana'. He grins broadly, seemingly quite pleased.

JOHN: Oh, my God. Everybody's finally here.

JESSICA: You're an astronaut too?

JOHN: Yeah.

JESSICA: Oh. ( giggles ) I like astronauts.

Gary and Bettina 'cuddle' while Jessica stokes John's face with one finger, very pleased. He doesn't seem displeased himself, enjoying this turn of events, an interesting smile on his face.

JOHN: You're an astronaut groupie?

JESSICA: Yeah.

JOHN: That so works for me. You want to go for a drive?

From the next booth a familiar voice intrudes.

SCORPIUS: No, John. We must speak.

After a brief look over his shoulder, John turns to his companions, gesturing over his shoulder, pointing with both hands.

JOHN: Does anybody see the... freak, in the next booth?

The trio crane necks, inspecting the booth over John's shoulder. Doc Betty mouths a silent negative.

GARY: Uh... Nope.

JESSICA: No. ( giggles )

JOHN: Let's go for a drive.

John slides out of the booth, beer in hand.

GARY: Yeah!

EXT - THE OPEN ROAD - DAY

The gang is spread out in a speeding red convertible, top down... chicks in the back, guys up front. John is behind the wheel, expression surly, enjoying this the least.

GARY: We're on fire! ... Come on John, you're drivin' like a chicken.

JOHN: I got a new theory on life. You wanna hear it?

GARY: Oh, yeah, man. Lay it on me. Lay it on me.

JOHN: Life sucks, nothing matters, so screw it all. Let's party!

GARY: I am SO there!

DR FAIRCHILD: Me too!

JESSICA: Enjoy it while it lasts, Johnny boy.

JOHN: You betcha, 'specially when nothing's real.

With a flurry and a 'thud' Scorpius hits the windshield like a big black bug. This, John cannot believe - his surprise converting quickly to a disgruntled expression.

SCORPIUS: This is no time to be having fun, John.

Flicking on the wipers, John glares unhappily at Scorpius through the windshield.

JOHN: Get lost!

SCORPIUS: ( growls ) You've got to focus. Fight this delusion.

JOHN: What? Like I'd believe anything that you'd say?! Get over it!

SCORPIUS: John... John! Listen to me.

Entering the curve in the road ahead, John sees a massive black and silver 'big rig'.

JOHN: It's time to bail, Scorpy!!

John swerves the red T-Bird into the path of the oncoming big rig. Scorpy looks back over his shoulder in time to see the fast approaching grill. Close on John's eye as he squeezes it closed -- much screaming ensues-- including his own, followed by shattering glass and then silence.

INT - HOSPITAL ROOM

Close again on John's eye, still squeezed tightly shut, in the silence he opens his eyes and sits up abruptly, gasping. He's back in the hospital room. Hearing a footstep his head snaps toward the noise. Dr. Fairchild enters, wearing lab coat and the biggest frelling rollers in her hair I've EVER seen.

DR FAIRCHILD: Good morning. The truck won I'm afraid.

Dr. Fairchild begins another cursory examination, peering deeply into John's head via his ear... with one of her Doctorish instruments. It's hard to tell if he's enjoying this, but he seems to.

JOHN: Uh, how are our friends?

DR FAIRCHILD: Gary and Jessica?

JOHN: Mm, yeah.

DR FAIRCHILD: They're fine.

JOHN: Hey.

DR FAIRCHILD: Hm?

JOHN: As a doctor...

DR FAIRCHILD: Mm?

JOHN: Don't you think a crash like that would have killed us?

DR FAIRCHILD: Well, we were very... very lucky.

Finishing with the view through the ear, Dr. Fairchild whips out a tongue depressor intent on checking his head via an alternate route.

JOHN: Oh, yeah.

DR FAIRCHILD: Now.

JOHN: Hm?

DR FAIRCHILD: You have a visitor.

John's a good patient he doesn't need to be told to open his mouth and Dr. Fairchild peers into his head through that opening. John's voice is a bit muffled by the tongue depressor as they continue their discussion.

JOHN: Oooh! Who? Dad...? D.K.?

DR FAIRCHILD: Someone new.

JOHN: Ah... a Sheyang?

Dr. Fairchild withdraws the tongue depressor, walking away without further comment.

JOHN: Captain Bialar Crais? ( beat ) Bring 'em on!

A woman enters the room, typical 50's'ish soccer mom type, strawberry blonde hair tucked in a not too neat bun; escaped tendrils frame her face. Her presence immediately silences him. He's speechless with shock.

WOMAN: Thank god you're okay. I came as soon as I could

She approaches John and raises a hand as if to touch his face. He catches her arm before she can, pulling his head away slightly.

JOHN: ( whispers ) Don't.

The woman looks at John, slightly confused. But he's very confused.

JOHN: This is a pretty good trick... considering you're dead... 'Mom'.

MOM: I had to come. Oh, sweetheart.

She reaches to touch him again. His weak attempt to pull away does not forestall gentle familiar fingers stroking his temple.

JOHN: Uh... you're not real.

MOM: You're sweating. ... Don't worry.

She reaches out and pulls him, only slightly resisting, into her arms. Although it seems that this is the last thing he would want, he cannot resist her. He makes a few, almost inaudible, protests.

JOHN: Uh-uh.

MOM: Don't worry. There. I'll make everything all right.

She urges him to rest his head on her shoulder, whispering sweet mom stuff into his ear. He's completely helpless to resist this 'delusion', and his head lowers inexorably toward the soft sweater that graces her shoulders.

MOM: There, my Johnny. There... there

His head remains hovering slightly above her shoulder. He raises one amazed hand to 'touch' her, then rests his head gently on her shoulder, eyes closed, his breath escaping in a slight shuddering exhale.

MOM: That's it... yes...

END ACT II

---

ACT III

INT - HOSPITAL ROOM - CONT FROM ACT II

John head rests on his 'mother's' shoulder. She strokes his back gently, murmuring quietly comforting things the way Mom's tend to when their children are in pain. After a brief silence she speaks.

MOM: You've changed.

Eyes closed, and completely taken in, or at least, allowing himself to be taken in - he responds in his softest voice.

JOHN: People change to survive.

MOM: But did you have to lose so much?

She lifts his resistant head slightly in her cupped palms, leaning down to peer into his eyes but his eyes remain closed, his head bowed.

MOM: ( whispering ) You were so innocent - so full of wonder - it's all gone!

Stung by her words, he flinches slightly, but otherwise remains motionless, eyes refusing to open.

MOM: You've become callous... you've killed.

A breathless moment frozen in time, then his eyes open with an almost audible snap. Lifting his head abruptly he looks intently into her eyes for a long moment.

JOHN: You can't know that.

MOM: It's true. Isn't it? That's what bothers you. That's why you can't sleep nights.

Amazed and angered, John looks her up and down, this thing that looks so much like his mother.

JOHN: I sleep fine.

Stepping down from the table, he brushes by her quickly, heading for the door.

MOM: Where are you going?

He backs slowly toward the open doorway and the corridor beyond.

JOHN: Away from something that isn't my mother.

MOM: You're just going to leave without saying goodbye?

Backing into the corridor, he takes one last hard look, and leaves.

INT - BAR

LONG across the bar as John enters, it's midday by the looks of the light spilling in from the doorway. The place is deserted, except for a few workers, and Scorpius sitting at the bar, wearing the 'musicians' vest. John doesn't perceive this however, as he claps one hand on Scorpy's shoulder and sits at the bar next to him.

JOHN: All right. Let's do this. Let's talk.

SCORPIUS: What about?

JOHN: About what's going on.

SCORPIUS: Well, I'm on my break my man.

JOHN: (laughs) Why don't you give me a break, my man.

SCORPIUS: Well, that's all I got for you, man. I don't know you, and I don't care for your problems.

JOHN: Yeah, great. You're not the guy. You're not the guy... I need to talk to.

John wearily lowers his head, resting on arms crossed on the cool surface of the bar.

SCORPIUS: ( concerned ) Hey, Cole. Cole, get this man a drink.

COLE: [O.S.] Comin' up.

Someone 'new' enters the bar. Dressed in a hospital gown and rolling an IV carriage beside her... It's mom, come to torment her son some more.

MOM: John...? Help me.

His head whipping up and around, John sees a stunning apparition. Struggling with whatever he's feeling and looking very afraid, he backs away, trying to maneuver around her, escape, as she approaches.

JOHN: You're not real.

MOM: I need you. I'm afraid.

JOHN: You're-You're not real. They pulled you out of my mind.

Still trying to back away and circle around her, he steps onto the small, vacant stage.

JOHN: You died five years ago!

Trying to bolt by, he trips over a barstool near the stage and sprawls face down on the floor, grunting loudly.

MOM: ( weeping ) John. I'm scared.

Without looking up from the floor, John tries to wave this vision away with one hand, weakly begging for release.

JOHN: I just want... out of this.

MOM: Stay with me this time... Be with me when I go.

She kneels on the floor beside him. She is weeping, and he's somewhere between tears, terror and total breakdown. He can't resist touching her... trying to send her away, weakly begging for release.

JOHN: No, please, this... please... please.

MOM: Please.

JOHN: No. No. Oh, God. This is cruel. This is cruel... please don't...

MOM: I need you ... with me.

JOHN: Please, don't. Don't do this to me!

MOM: ( nodding ) Yes...

JOHN: ( screaming ) Don't do this to me!

Tearing away from her touch, he buries his face to the floor. Both are sobbing. Scorpy watches from the bar.

EXT - IASA OPERATIONS

Walking slowly, a pale and sweating John, looking weary and stunned, approaches and passes a cop that looks suspiciously like Crais. The sky is still blue, still midday, it's hot, he has the sweatshirt unzipped [ finally ].

CRAIS: Problem, Pal?

John slows to a halt at the voice, responding without turning.

JOHN: Oh, well, If it isn't the good Captain.

CRAIS: Would I be patrolling a beat if I made Captain? Hell, I'm still buckin' to transfer to plainclothes.

JOHN: And give up the uniform? Bad choice.

CRAIS: Say, you're that John Crichton guy, aren't you? That Astronaut!

JOHN: ( quietly ) I don't know.

CRAIS: A few too many, huh?

JOHN: ( quietly ) I don't know who I am anymore.

CRAIS: You better come back to the station with me and sleep it off.

Bent on protecting and serving, Cop Crais approaches John. John continues to mutter.

JOHN: ( quietly ) Just leave me alone. Please, just... leave me...

CRAIS: I'm gonna get you off the streets, mister-

Crais drops a friendly hand on John's shoulder.

JOHN: Leave me alone!

Crichton explodes, and attacks Crais with unrestrained fury.

JOHN: Don't you touch me!!

Flattening Crais against the hood of the patrol car with one blow, he leaps on top of him and continues pounding out his frustration and anger, each blow punctuated by a shout of anger.

JOHN: Me! ... Me! ... Me! ... Me! ... Me! ...

Pulling Crais's pistol out of its holster, John barely restrains himself from finishing what he started, but turns and runs off as Crais's body slumps against the hood of his patrol car.

INT - OFFICE

John enters the office to see D. Logan, Dr. Kaminski, D.K., Dad, and Dr. Fairchild gathered around the desk.

JOHN: Oh, my.

John closes the door behind him.

JOHN: Look at this.

D. LOGAN: Ah, Mr. Crichton. Delighted to see you again. We were just discussing your future.

Moving away from the crowd surrounding the desk, John heads to the far wall where two small shelves are mounted-- cluttered with objects and photos.

JOHN: Oh, I don't have a future...

John examines a photograph depicting the group across the room, exactly as they were when he entered. He waves his hands in front of the image as if to 'erase' it.

JOHN: At least, not in this reality.

JACK: Son, you're in no shape for this.

DR FAIRCHILD: Clearly feverish.

Indeed. John looks like hell -- a shiny film of perspiration coats skin flushed red. Pacing along the wall he passes a photo of 'Gary Ragel' surfing the back of a shuttle, and then a photo of 'musician' Scorpy proudly displaying a 'Gold' record. Stopping in front of the photo, he kisses his fingertips and presses them to the photo.

DR KAMINSKI: John, be careful-you are risking a full cognitive dislocation.

John turns slowly and walks toward the group at the desk, circling slowly behind them. He's in serious trouble, and he may know it, his mind is running on only 2 cylinders about now.

JOHN: Oh. I'm about as 'cognitively dislocated' as they get.... But I am clear on one thing. Scorpy can ah, let me lose... or watch me go berserk.

D. LOGAN: "More berserk," I'd say.

DR KAMINSKI: You seem obsessed by this 'Scorpius' person. Can you tell us why?

DR FAIRCHILD: Can't be healthy for you.

JOHN: You're not real. ... Or ... you're in on the plot.

DR FAIRCHILD: ( sighs loudly )

JOHN: Either way.... Doesn't really matter what I do.

John turns back toward the 'players', withdrawing the gun from the back of his waistband. Raising the gun quickly, he takes aim and fires at 'Dad', to no effect.

JACK: I'm disappointed in you.

D.K.: You're holding us up John.

John turns the gun on D.K. and fires again.

D. LOGAN: Can we please get on with our meeting now?

John fires point blank at D. Logan's head-- to no effect. He's become increasingly agitated with each shot.

DR KAMINSKI: Is anyone else hungry?

DR FAIRCHILD: I'm starving.

DR KAMINSKI: Shall be send out for some lunch?

D. LOGAN: Oh, anything but Thai food.

Desperately needing to terminate this insane discussion, John fires twice more.

D.K.: Pizza?

DR FAIRCHILD: No, I'm sick of Pizza. How about Deli?

John looks on- shock, anxiety and fear war for control of his features- he is COMPLETELY losing it.

JACK: Corned Beef on Rye for me.

JOHN: ( screaming a long drawn out protest ) STOP!

INT - HOSPITAL ROOM

John is back on the table, a security guard stands on the back wall and 'cop' Crais looks on as John continues his screamed protest, which is cut off only by the last of his breath.

JOHN: ( screaming continues, a long drawn out protest ) STOP!

John opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings- seeming not at all surprised, his expression lax and detached. He glances toward 'Crais', who is standing close at hand with a medium size white dog tucked under one arm.

'OFFICER' CRAIS: Have you any idea how much trouble you're in?

JOHN: ( weakly ) Yeah... ( beat ) Do you?

'OFFICER' CRAIS: I like your style, Hombre. But this is no laughing matter.

Crais begins pacing back and forth in front of John. The little white dog tucked under one arm and brandishing a folded flimsy in the opposite hand. John tracks him with his eyes, but otherwise remains unresponsive.

'OFFICER' CRAIS: Assault on a Police Officer. Theft of police property. Illegal possession of a firearm. Five counts of attempted murder. That comes to... Twenty-Nine Dollars and Forty Cents.

'Officer' Crais extends the flimsy toward John.

'OFFICER' CRAIS: Cash, check, or credit card?

John reaches out to take the offered flimsy, but the limit of the handcuffs securing his left arm to the table prevents him. The handcuff clanks on metal and John's hand comes up short.

Crais lowers the flimsy slightly and John accepts it between two outstretched fingers. Giving John one final glare, Crais exits, flicking off the lights as he goes. John's gaze rotates up to the now extinquished lights, then down to the flimsy, unfolding it and examining it without an ounce of interest.

JOHN: This thing is going completely off the rails... ... or maybe I have.

Scorpius makes his entrance. Seemingly rising out of John's chest - we see him as standing on the far side of the table, looking down on John.

SCORPIUS: Not yet you haven't. Oh, but there's a danger you will.

JOHN: ( weak, rapid-fire laugh; a really tired Elmer Fudd ) You're here.

John raises his hand to the limit permitted by the restraint, metal clanking on metal, displaying the handcuff.

JOHN: Did you bring the keys?

SCORPIUS: It's not me doing this, John.

Scorpius turns away - walking toward a display of X-rays across the room, flipping a long wicked looking 'pointer' in his hand as he goes.

SCORPIUS: It's a Scarran

Scorpius points at the center X-Ray, and the black rectangle illuminates displaying the familiar wicked visage of a Scarran.

SCORPIUS: He captured you on the commerce planet.

JOHN: I don't know any Scarrans. What would a Scarran want with me?

John's eyes wander around the room, looking at anything 'but' Scorpius.

SCORPIUS: Well, now that the Scarrans know I'm after you. They want to know why. This is their, um, standard method of interrogation. Induced delusions to break down all... mental defenses.

Scorpius walks back to John, leaning over him again. John looks away, but is clearly mulling over this information, his fingertips lightly toying with his lips.

SCORPIUS: The Scarrans aren't trying to fool you, John. They're trying to break you. This is a deliberate attempt to drive you into insanity... and it's working.

John smiles softly... less than sanely.

SCORPIUS: Your mind is about to crack. And I cannot allow that. I was here first.

INSERT SHOT - from "The Hidden Memory" - John, strapped in the Aurora Chair.

JOHN: No you weren't.

SCORPIUS: True. The Ancients were here first, implanting the wormhole knowledge I seek.

INSERT SHOT - from "The Hidden Memory" - John, in the Chair. Scorpius standing over him.

SCORPIUS: ( in voiceover ) But when my Aurora Chair failed to unlock that information... ( in present, looming over John ) I had to implement a ...second strategy.

INSERT SHOT - from "Look At The Princess, Part 1 & 3" - Scorpius, looming over John in the Aurora Chair, driving a long pointed instrument into John's neck-- John howls in agony.

Reacting to this memory, John heaves and buckles against the back of the hospital table, features twisted in pain.

INSERT SHOT - from "Look At The Princess, Part 1 & 3" - Scorpius, looming over John in the Aurora Chair, driving a long pointed instrument into John's neck-- John howls in agony.

John continues reacting strongly to this memory. Finally bolting upright on the table, fully 'awake', face-to-face with Scorpy, his anger overriding fear.

JOHN: You put something in my head!

SCORPIUS: A very sophisticated neuro-chip - It contains... well, it contains, me. Or, a mental clone of my... personality.

JOHN: That explains the visions I've been having.

SCORPIUS: Precisely. I was supposed to remain hidden. But now and again your subconscious would become aware of me.

INSERT SHOT - from "Look At The Princess, Part 3" -- The pool of acid scene. John can't bring himself to harm Scorpy. Something stops him... something inside.

JOHN: That's why I couldn't kill you on the ... Royal Planet?

SCORPIUS: Of course. A simple fail-safe. But my main function is to access the wormhole knowledge in your brain. No matter how long that takes.

JOHN: ( another weary Elmer Fudd laugh ) You're Harvey? ( small laugh ) Or is it Clarence? ... Guardian Angel? ... Invisible Rabbit ... ( head bobs back and forth, echoing an internal debate ) ... Harvey ... ? ( inhales sharply; decisively ) Harvey. Does the Scarran know you're here?

SCORPIUS: ( Slightly annoyed ) I only manifest myself when the Scarran's attention is elsewhere, as it is now. I must disappear when he returns. ... Ignore the false Scorpius he has created. And do not confide in anyone else you may encounter.

JOHN: How do I know you're telling the truth?

SCORPIUS: You're sweating John. ( tracing gloved fingertips across John's brow ) You've been unusually hot all this time because your real body ... is reflexively responding to heat. The heat...

Cut to close on X-Ray image of Scarran.

SCORPIUS: ... a Scarran produces...,

Cut to X-Ray image of Scarran glowing slightly red.

SCORPIUS: ... and when the temperature lessens slightly - the Scarran is elsewhere, preparing another onslaught. It must not succeed.

JOHN: How do I stop it?

SCORPIUS: Focus. Concentrate on your true memories of earth, of Moya. Your family, friends, even your enemies. Do not allow yourself to be pushed over the edge. But remember this. The Scarran has not disarmed you. Your weapon is of no consequence to a Scarran. Their skins...

Cut to X-ray image of Scarran.

SCORPIUS: ... are extremely tough

Cut to X-ray image of Scarran - shot zooms to XCU of its scaled hide.

SCORPIUS: Pistol fire will not kill a Scarran...

Cut to X-Ray image of a pulse pistol, a red "X" appears, drawn across the image.

SCORPIUS: ... before it kills you. So, your best chance is not to fire, but to...

JOHN: But to what?

SCORPIUS: The temperatures rising, I must go

Harvey exits.

JOHN: ( shouting ) Harvey!

Cut to close up on X-Ray image of Scarran. The image seems to turn slowly to camera.

JOHN: ( shouting ) 'But to', What?

Cut to close up on X-Ray image of Scarran. The visage growls, the image drawing into life revealing the living Scarran in a dark room, it's black eyes glow slightly red.

The Scarran's growl is punctuated by an electronic wheeze, shot cuts to close on John, his frantic expression erased as he abruptly falls back panting, eyelids fluttering, quickly unconscious.

END ACT III

---

ACT IV

INT - HOSPITAL ROOM

Close on John's hands, frantically working the cuff on his wrist. Cut to close on John's pale, sweaty, frantic expression; still working on the cuff. He has company, cut to MED on 'Zhaan', standing between his legs; spread courtesy of those nice, Aussie style, stirrups. She's decked out in a short black sleeveless dress of polished vinyl with long black vinyl gloves. She grins wickedly, sliding gloved fingers down his thighs.

ZHAAN/DR KAMINSKI: ( sultry whisper ) You look like you're ready to have some fun!

Shot widens revealing Doc Betty standing to his side, decked out in a glossy white vinyl nurses uniform, nurses cap perched on her head, busily cleaning a piece of (sorry) obstetrical equipment.

AERYN/DR FAIRCHILD: ( all business ) We certainly are.

JOHN: ( nervously ) What are you doing?

Interestingly, Doc Fairchild takes the long wicked pointy instrument, previously in Scorpy's possession, and slides it through the, ahem, 'obstetrical' instrument, with a metallic clank. She eyes John coolly.

AERYN/DR FAIRCHILD: Nothing you won't like

Chiana/Jessica slips into CLOSE John's POV, up close and personal. She too is decked out in silky black vinyl... school girl style.

CHIANA/JESSICA: Nothing you haven't already... fantasized about.

ZHAAN/DR KAMINSKI: Admit it. You've had sexual thoughts about all of us, haven't you?

JOHN: Not me.

CHIANA/JESSICA: Oh, come on. You're a male!

ZHAAN/DR KAMINSKI: It's just- the way- you- are- wired.

AERYN/DR FAIRCHILD: Nothing to be ashamed of. Not when females are willing.

JOHN: Huh...

ZHAAN/DR KAMINSKI: Say, what's your pleasure boss?

AERYN/DR FAIRCHILD: I'm a doctor. Just relax.

ZHAAN/DR KAMINSKI: I can wear a Freudian Slip.

AERYN/DR FAIRCHILD: I'll find new places to take your temperature.

CHIANA/JESSICA: I can teach you the left-handed Latvian Rodeo Torture.

RYGEL/D LOGAN: All of you bitches out... now! Crichton is mine! ( making slurping sound ala Hannibal Lecter's fava beans )

Crichton blinks blearily in shocked disbelief at this 'Piece de resistance'. Rygel rises from between John's leg's in full 'Dominator' attire... leather gear, mask and whip.

RYGEL/D LOGAN: This is for calling me "sparky"...

John flinches as 'Rygel' smacks him with the whip.

RYGEL/D LOGAN: ...and this is for "fluffy" ( snaps whip ) ... and this is for "buckwheat" ( snaps whips and laughs ) ... whatever that means.

In the throes of extreme anxiety, John RIPS the restraint bar from the table, freeing himself, and knocks Rygel out with a right to the jaw.

INT - HOSPITAL CORRIDOR

John wanders down a hospital corridor, exiting an area labeled "Momma Ward", sounds of baby's crying surround him. He blinks and ... twitches vaguely. A tinny lullaby plays in his head. His disoriented musings are interrupted by a shrill yet familiar voice.

D.K.: Oh! Leaving so soon?! I wish I could!! Look at what you made me do, John!! I opened my veins!!!

Hearing this hysterical rant, John staggers around, his efforts greeted by the sight of a perfectly hysterical D.K. being rolled toward him in a wheel chair. D.K.'s wrists are bandaged and 'blood' SQUIRTS from his wrists, some, improbably enough, splashing against the lens of the camera. John staggers backward, nearing the brink of mental meltdown. DK's rant continues.

D.K.: You made me lose my job! You dumped me for your new pals! ... Some friend you are! ... Some friend you are, Man! ( screams )

John's staggering backpedal continues. Two orderlies approach and lift him, unprotesting, by arms and legs. Laying him out on his back in a large baby carriage, they roll him out the door as DK's screams carry on in the background.

INT - HOSPITAL SOLARIUM

John is wheeled into another room where 'Mom' and 'Dad' are arguing. John, lying on his back in the carriage, has checked out for now. Lights are on- nobody's home.

'MOM': Oh, come on, Papa Bear! Look at what depths 'your' son has driven us to!

'DAD': Don't look at me! You're the one who wanted a child! I wanted a Terrier!

'MOM': Oh you couldn't give me what I really wanted!

'DAD': Oh! So we get this loser! He can't fetch a ball, he can't get my slippers! He can't even land a damn module!

'Dad' grabs the carriage and tosses John out like the proverbial baby with the bath water.

'MOM': Oh, no! Don't hurt my baby!!!

EXT. IASA OPERATIONS - DAY

John falls out of the sky, presumably from the hospital roof, screaming all the way. His scream abruptly cuts off as he drops through shot and a loud thump indicates his impact. A wailing siren heralds the arrival of a police car. The policeman hops out of the vehicle, all business except - improbably - for a lovely pair of red pumps. He draws down on a prostrate, barely recovering, John

OFFICER CRAIS: Freeze! You're under arrest! You have the right to the remains of a silent attorney!

Crawling slowly to his hands and knees, John shoots Crais brief looks as his 'Miranda' continues.

OFFICER CRAIS: If you cannot afford one... tough noogies! You can make ONE phone call! I recommend Trixie: 976-Triple 5-"love". Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?!

John kneels in front of Crais, his expression indicating that he understands absolutely nothing.

OFFICER CRAIS: Well do you, punk?!

John shakes his head weakly, his baffled response nearly inaudible.

JOHN: No.

OFFICER CRAIS: Then I can't arrest you!

John falls backward under impact with the door as Crais slams it into his head.



EXT - NIGHT

...John's head rocks forcefully back against the headrest of Gary Ragel's convertible, then rebounds, thumping against the steering wheel. Momentum causes him to rebound again, coming to rest sitting in the drivers seat next to Gary Ragel. The convertible is 'parked' at an overlook. The top is down and city lights spread out far below them. Gary sits on the passenger side, speaking almost immediately, his voice and mannerism's effeminate. Interestingly, both his hands are visible until the final moments of the exchange.

GARY: John... I really need to just unburden myself on you.

JOHN: What?

GARY: Well, lately... I've been thinking about you in a very different way.

JOHN: Uh-huh...

GARY: Mm-hmm... and I was wondering, if you would mind participating with me in a little Luxan bonding ritual...

Giving up any attempt to understand the situation, John grins and laughs quietly.

GARY: Here's the thing, okay? What we need are: some chains...

JOHN: ( laughing ) Mm-hm. ( nodding )

GARY: ...Uh, my Qualta Blade... just a little squirt of lutra oil, and... Oh!!

John flinches at Gary's high-pitched squeal.

GARY: Chiana. ( giggles )

JOHN: ( laughs ) Chiana?

GARY: Yeah. She wants to watch.

JOHN: Oh, no...

GARY: ( Aggressively, in D'Argo voice ) Oh, yes...

Gary strokes the side of John's face with one finger, his right hand is somewhere out of shot for the first and only time in the scene. John turns away slightly, his eyes rolling up as he mentally slides away.

INT - DR KAMINSKI'S OFFICE

... on the couch, Doc Kaminiski sits beside him, stroking the back of his neck while 'Mom' approaches from across the room wearing nothing but a slinky negligee under a silk robe and carrying a thick red tome. John pulls his head away from the Doc and eyes his 'Mom' warily.

MOM: Such a fascinating library you have, such wonderful, informative books. "The Oedipus Complex"? I'm not sure I... grasp that concept. Could you, ah... explain it to me Johnny?

'Mom' slides onto the arm of the chair, sitting close beside John, she's careful to almost cover stocking clad legs directly under his nose. John quakes.

JOHN: ( in a weak whisper ) No.

MOM: Oh please. You're such a smart boy. I really... I really want to know.

'Mom' draws close, her pursed lips hovering near his for one horrifying moment... John pulls away quickly, covering his face with both hands.



INT - BAR

...John stands in the middle of the dance floor under the disco ball, as loud dance music plays, both hands covering his face. The dance floor is crowded with dancers. He pulls his hands away from his face just as two familiar figures sidle up to him... Doc Fairchild and Jessica gyrate to the beat as his mind desperately tries to catch up ... yet again.

JOHN: ( laughing wildly )

GARY: ( shouting from across the dance floor ) Hey, John! Get down and boogie!!

DOC FAIRCHILD: Boogie-oogie-woogie!

JOHN: ( laughing )

GARY: ( shouting ) Hey, man! Boogie or die!

JOHN: ( laughing ) Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I don't boogie!!

The beat of the music slows... John stands, looking up at the disco ball, arms outstretched.

AERYN: Crichton! Crichton! Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? Where are you? Clear the dance floor! Clear the dance floor! Clear the dance floor!

Seeing Aeryn standing across the now vacant dance floor with her pulse pistol drawn, aiming his direction, John drops to the floor, covering his head. Aeryn fires and shatters the disco ball. The music stops, silence descends, as the sound of breaking glass slowly diminishes.

AERYN: Searched half this world for you.

JOHN: ( gasping ) Where am I?

AERYN: Still on the commerce planet, but underground, in some sort of holographic chamber. I destroyed the projector.

JOHN: ( disoriented ) Who nabbed me?

AERYN: Scorpius.

JOHN: Sc...

AERYN: I killed him.

JOHN: Scorpius? Was, um... he was behind this?

AERYN: "Was", being the operative word.

JOHN: That's interesting.

AERYN: Why is it interesting, John?

JOHN: It's just that he, ah...

AERYN: Tell me.

John extends an arm for a hand up and stands unsteadily with Aeryn's assistance.

JOHN: Later. Let's ah, let's get out of here.

AERYN: No. Tell me now.

John eyes her with a great deal of suspicion.

JOHN: No. ( beat ) No, you get nothing from me.

AERYN: Frell you then. Stay.

'Aeryn' exits the 'theater of the mind', brushing by John, who wobbles a bit at the impact, his head lolling back against his shoulders, eyes closing slowly. Lights come up and dance music begins again.



INT - BAR

John's eyes open and camera pulls back from closeup to wide on the dance floor. The music gets louder and faster, the dancers dance faster as John wobbles around in a circle, he's just about done.

GARY: Boogie or Die!

Laughing hysterically, John abruptly stops circling, and in a typically rash act, he flings the four-fingered salute at his unseen antagonist.

JOHN: Hey, yo! Kiss my...!

Abruptly caught in the grip of a powerful, yet unseen force, John's body spasms uncontrollably as broken, insanely impossible, images pound through his mind.

D.K. rants as blood spurts from slashed wrists.

D.K.: ... friend you are, man!!

Gary Ragel, up close and personal, in the passenger seat.

GARY: Thinking about you...

Crais declines to take him.

CRAIS: Then I can't arrest you!

His dead mother pleads with him.

MOM: Be with me when I go.

INT - HOLOGRAPHIC CHAMBER

John stands in semi-darkness, his is head rolled back against his shoulders, seemingly oblivious of his surroundings. A large dark orb looms overhead. The silouette of his Scarran inquisitor looms nearby.

GAHV: Brain wave patterns are increasingly irregular.

The Scarran manipulates controls on a darkened console, resultant waves of force emanating from the orb pounds down on John's insensible form. John's body arcs further backward, arms out-flung, as the waves strike him.

GAHV: The captive is finally weakening. Increasing stimuli to Kalvor nine.

John's body is jolted by another wave of force from the Scarran's machine.

GAHV: Kalvor ten...

The intensity slowly increases under the Scarran's long clawed manipulations until it suddenly cuts out. In the deafening silence, John's body drops to the floor, a puppet with cut strings.

GAHV: Dead?

The Scarran stares at John's body for a moment before turning his back, beginning a final 'report'.

GAHV: ( growling ) All neural activity ceased at 635 avneth 1.

Camera pans from the Scarran's back, down to John's unmoving form. Abruptly blue eyes open, pupils dilating slightly. The Scarran's voice continues over close on John's movements.

GAHV: Captive apparently suffered full synaptic overload at stimulus level kalvor 10. Because no place like tartar exists with this species, this reaction could not have been anticipated...

John's hand moves furtively to the pulse pistol still at his hip, Deft fingers release it from it's hold down clip and manipulate a few controls. A shrill whine commences.

GAHV: Remains of the captive will be held...

The Scarran growls at the interruption. Turning he approaches John's 'body' slowly, eyeing the pistol as the shrill whine intensifies. Almost blinking in puzzlement, the Scarran bends down to get a closer look.

Moving at speed, John pulls the pistol from his hip and jams in between the Scarran's jaws.

Cut to long as John leaps away from the Scarran just as the weapon blows, filling the darkened space with white light.

Long on Scarran, the remains of his head hanging from his shoulders, his remaining arm waves feebly in the air as his body topples backward.

END ACT IV

---

TAG

John sits, his back braced against a wall, breathing unsteadily, looking like all kinds of hell. Bits of flame gutter here and there. Scorpius stands in front of him, across the room, giving a small round of applause.

SCORPIUS: Well done, John.

JOHN: What happened? I feel like... I died.

SCORPIUS: I had to stop your brain function for a few microts... to divert the Scarran. No harm done. I'll go back in your subconscious mind now.

JOHN: Don't get too comfortable. I'm gonna get that chip out of my head.

SCORPIUS: There's no chip in your head, John.

JOHN: Yeah, there is. You told me... ah. There's a, um... ( slurring ) Men... men...

SCORPIUS: You were saying?

JOHN: M-Mental chip! Mmm...

SCORPIUS: Ah, you were saying?

JOHN: What am I saying? I'm...

SCORPIUS: As it should be. I won't trouble you again, until I need to. There's an exit to your left which will no doubt take you back to the surface of this commerce planet. I leave you to your ship mates, John. But rest assured, I'll be with you always... keeping you safe.

ROLL END CREDITS