FARSCAPE

"My Three Crichtons"

Teleplay by,
Grant McAloon

Story by,
Gabrielle Stanton & Harry Werksman, Jr.



This transcript provided by: Farscape Ally!
Suggestions for corrections/revisions gratefully accepted.


Starring:
Ben Browder
Claudia Black
Anthony Simcoe
Virginia Hey
Gigi Edgley
Commander John Crichton
Officer Aeryn Sun
Ka D'Argo
Pa'u Zotoh Zhaan
Chiana
Guest Starring:
Ben Browder
Ben Browder
'Future Crichton'
'Caveman' Crichton


Teleplay by: Grant McAloon

Who also wrote:

(1:15) "Durka Returns", (2:03) "Vitas Mortis", (2:18) "Liars, Guns & Money, Part 1: A Not So Simple Plan".



Story by: Gabrielle Stanton & Harry Werksman, Jr.

Who also wrote:

(2:08*) "Home On The Remains", (2:16*) "The Ugly Truth".



Director: Catherine Millar

Who also directed:

(2:19) "Liars, Guns & Money, Part 2: With Friends Like These".



Created by: Rockne S. O'Bannon

CO-EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS: Richard Manning
Naren Shankar
PRODUCED BY: Sue Milliken
TELEPLAY BY: Grant McAloon
STORY BY: Gabrielle Stanton & Harry Werksman, Jr.
DIRECTED BY: Catherine Millar
EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS: David Kemper
Brian Henson
Rod Perth
Robert Halmi, Jr.
EXECUTIVE CONSULTANT: Rockne S. O'Bannon
CREATIVE CONSULTANT: Justin Monjo
EXECUTIVE STORY EDITORS: Gabrielle Stanton & Harry Werksman, Jr.
DIRECTOR OF PHOTOGRAPHY: Russell Bacon
PRODUCTION DESIGNER: Tim Ferrier
ASSOCIATE PRODUCER: Andrew Prowse
MUSIC BY: Guy Gross
COSTUME DESIGNER: Terry Ryan
EDITOR: Suresh Ayyar
SECOND UNIT DOP: Danny Batterham
STORY EDITOR: Lily Taylor
SCRIPT EDITOR: Grant McAloon
PRODUCTION EXECUTIVE: Robert I. Wozniak
CREATURE SHOP CREATIVE SUPERVISOR: Dave Elsey
VISUAL EFFECTS: ANIMAL LOGIC



NOTES FROM THE TRANSCRIBER (MY THREE CRICHTONS VERSION):

Okay, I know it may be a bit confusing but, technically it's not my fault. It wasn't my idea to have three Crichtons running around on the same ship, so please bear with me here.

Within the transcript, the lines are credited thus:

CRICHTON: John Crichton, Future Version aka 'Future Crichton'

JOHN: John Crichton, Neanderthal Version

CRICHTON: Our John. The Present John. Warts and all.

And this is just mostly because it's all in how I personally... view the characterization. It's a long psychological process involving how my brain works and we just don't want to go there!

Plus, it doesn't hurt that I 'hate' that 'Future Crichton' ... 'Caveman Crichton' crap, okay? Hey! I'm using the word: "hate" here... okay?

Anyway, it should be 'painfully clear' who's speaking/acting anyway, thanks to frelling awesome writing.

So... sit back... enjoy...

It's My Three Crichtons!

All Crichton, All The Time!

Plus! ... Shirtless Crichton!

What more could you ask for?!

Let's go!






COLD OPEN





MOYA, Maintenance Bay

Aeryn leans into the cockpit of the Farscape module. She uses a welding torch to cut through the connections on a part inside and yanks it out. She carries the part over to the prowler and begins the process of connecting the part inside the cockpit of the prowler.

Unsurprisingly, this is the moment Crichton chooses to arrive, quickening his pace as he gets the sense that something is awry.


CRICHTON: What are you doin'?

Aeryn continues working.

AERYN: Prowler needs one of those Moya propulsor control units...

CRICHTON: From my module? I don't think so.

AERYN: It's a matter of priorities, Crichton. You know which ship is more important.

CRICHTON: ( scoffs lightly ) Yes, I know which ship is more important to you, but...

AERYN: Yes, the one that can actually get us out of trouble if we come under attack.

Crichton smirks and steps up on the step ladder behind her, the better to intimidate and persuade I guess...

CRICHTON: I know someone who will soon be under attack if they don't...

PILOT: Crichton? Aeryn?

Aeryn, looks back over her shoulder at Crichton, and on hearing Pilot's voice, gives us the most 'amazing' look ... like Crichton's been caught by the teacher, and is about to get reemed! ( LOL!)

CRICHTON: ... Yes, Mr. Bad News?

PILOT: Moya's senses have just picked something up. It appears to be actively tracking us.

Crichton's 'playful' mood evaporates, he nods and points over Aeryn's shoulder into the Prowler.

CRICHTON: You were right. Put it in.

AERYN: Can you tell what it is?

PILOT: No. It doesn't even seem to be a physical object. Just... energy.

INTERCUT

MOYA, Command

Zhaan moves to a control console, examining the readings.

PILOT: Zhaan, can you see it?

ZHAAN: Pilot. I can't get a visual... but I estimate it will be upon us within... 15 microts.

PILOT: Starting evasive maneuvers... now.

INTERCUT

EXT. SPACE

A small orb of light tracks Moya as she tries to evade it, sweeping ahead of her with ease. Moya's outer skin ripples like a pool of water as the orb 'dives' through it and into the vessel.

INTERCUT

MOYA, Main Passage

D'Argo staggers as Moya shudders under the force of the orbs entry.

D'ARGO: What do you mean it's 'inside' Moya?!

INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



ZHAAN: It's moving too fast to track, Pilot!

Zhaan's attention is drawn away from the console by a low humming noise. Looking up she sees the small orb hovering nearby. It hovers over her, examining her closely.

Chiana runs into command in time to witness the orbs benign examination of Zhaan. The orb darts toward the Nebari, hovering there fractionally before moving into the passage.






INTERCUT

MOYA, MAIN PASSAGE

The orb tracks rapidly down Moya's main passages, the vibrating hum all pervasive. Encountering D'Argo beyond a curve in the passage, the orb halts it's progress to give the Luxan the once over. Abandoning that examination, the orb darts down and through the deck, into a passage on a lower deck, following that passage into the Maintenance Bay.

CRICHTON: Pilot, you there?

Aeryn turns, immediately noting the presence of the orb, just behind and above Crichton's head.

AERYN: Crichton.

Seeing the direction of her focus, he turns.

CRICHTON: What?

The glow of the orb illuminates his features, the vibrating hum intensifying as it examines him briefly. His eyes follow it as it hovers directly over his head, he turns slowly back toward Aeryn who is maneuvering for a clear shot, her hand on the pistol at her hip. The orb now hovers directly over his head.

CRICHTON: ( whispering ) Aeryn.

Aeryn pulls the weapon and takes careful aim.

CRICHTON: ( whispering ) Aim high. But shoot it.

Aeryn fires, striking the orb dead center. Crichton is jolted by the energy flare of the orb, he seems to be pressed downward as the orb enlarges directly over his head.

CRICHTON: Aeryn!

Aeryn holsters the pistol and runs to the Prowler, as Crichton drops slowly to his knees beneath the still expanding orb. She climbs half into the prowler, energizing it's weapons.

AERYN: Come on, come on.

The edge of the energy wave engulfs Crichton's head as the prowlers cannons fire. The Maintenance Bay is rocked by dual explosions. The energy of the cannons does nothing more than solidify the energy of the orb. Where Crichton had knelt beneath the decending orb, now sits a large green 'blob' which has sunk partially through the deck of the Maintenance Bay.

AERYN: Crichton.

Moya's deck rocks unsteadily as Aeryn climbs down from the Prowler and walks toward the green sphere.

AERYN: Crichton!



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





MOYA, Maintenance Bay

Aeryn still stands in front of the sphere, her pistol drawn and pointed at the sphere when D'Argo arrives. The orb, now a large glowing green sphere, continues to emit a heavy vibrating hum, it also now expels a persistent white smoke or mist, adding to the overall creepy quality.

D'ARGO: Whoa! What the hezmana is that, and where's Crichton?

AERYN: Inside. It sucked him in. Don't ask me to explain it.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Main Passage



RYGEL: Can someone please tell me what the yotz I'm looking at?

D'ARGO: Where are you?

RYGEL: I'm in the passageway beneath... Maintenance Bay Two. There's some... thing sticking through the ceiling.

INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay

AERYN: Don't go near it, Rygel.

RYGEL: You really think I need you to tell me that?

AERYN: Pilot, what the frell is this thing?

PILOT: Unknown. I can't make sense of these readings.

D'ARGO: Well then, keep trying.

PILOT: I'm getting contradictory data. There are energy fluctuations... it's putting Moya under a great deal of stress.

AERYN: Pilot?

The activity from the sphere increases dramatically, rocking heavily, it begins to glow brighter, the vibrating hum increases... discharging an increased amount of mist.

AERYN: Pilot?!

PILOT: Massive energy fluctuations. Vacate the area immediately!

Not needing Pilot to cause him to exercise caution, D'Argo has already placed a hand on Aeryn's arm, urging her away from the sphere. As they back away, the vessel is rocked forcefully, and they sprawl to the ground.

A bright flash of energy discharge and Crichton is propelled through the top of the orb like a bottle rocket, flailing arms and legs in the air, he hits the deck and rolls toward D'Argo and Aeryn, ending on his side, his body drawn into a fetal position, hands over his face, knees drawn to elbows.

Clambering to his feet, D'Argo draws his Qualta Blade as the sphere discharges another form which hurtles into the Luxan, driving them both to the floor. The large hairy 'critter' shoulders D'Argo away and bursts out the door, the Luxan close on his heels.

Aeryn crouches behind an unmoving Crichton, holding him with both hands.




INTERCUT

MOYA, Main Passage

D'Argo, Qualta blade drawn, pursues the hairy 'critter'. Chiana darting down an adjoining passage, turns the corner and collides with his substantial body.

CHIANA: Whoa! D'Argo! What-what the frell's happen--

D'ARGO: Keep your comms open and do not move until I say so!

CHIANA: What?!

D'ARGO: Just do what I say.

CHIANA: D'Argo!

D'ARGO: Just do it!

D'Argo races off after the 'critter'.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay

Zhaan stands in front of the large glowing sphere, eyes closed, palms extended, doing a 'Delvian Thing'. Crichton sits on the deck a short distance away, arms and legs crossed. Aeryn kneels behind him, bracing him, rocking him gently, holding his arms while he shivers slightly, hands shaking randomly; still slightly incoherent and confused from his 'trip' through the orb.

CRICHTON: I got sucked into that?

Zhaan turns away from the orb, moving back toward John, but notes something on the floor and bends down to examine it.

AERYN: You were inside it. You don't remember anything?

CRICHTON: Uh-uh. I, uh... I remember cold...

Zhaan looks up from the floor and reaching out with one hand, touches John on the side of the neck, looking at him closely, then looks back to the floor.

AERYN: Well you're going to have to focus a little bit more for me, John. I need to know. Did you see anything... anyone inside there?

Zhaan's hand comes away from the floor, her blue finger painted brightly red with blood.

CRICHTON: No... there was ah... light... I remember light.

AERYN: Um-hm.

CRICHTON: And I was, uh...

ZHAAN: John, where have you cut yourself?

CRICHTON: I'm cut? I-I'm cut?

AERYN: You're not cut.

CRICHTON: No-no. I'm not cut.

AERYN: It was the creature.

CRICHTON: The creature?

AERYN: You weren't the only thing to come out of that sphere. D'Argo's tracking it down now.

CRICHTON: Oh, god, another critter. Right... well, I better go help him.

Crichton works on getting to his feet, without much success.

ZHAAN: John, you're in no condition!

Crichton manages to roll onto his hands and knees, but even with Aeryn's arms wrapped around his chest and tugging he can't-quite-stand. Chiana enters, eyes and mouth agape.

CRICHTON: No, no, I'm okay, I just need a gun.

CHIANA: Frell me!

Chiana bends down and peers into Crichton's face.

CHIANA: What happened to you?

CRICHTON: That's the 64,000 dollar question-- Aeryn, you got a gun?

ZHAAN: John, please...

CRICHTON: No, that's okay. I just need to go... help find the creature.

Having made it all the way up to one foot and one knee, John collapses to the floor again with a grunt, pulling Aeryn with him.

AERYN: You all right?

CRICHTON: ( weakly ) Okay.

CHIANA: Did he really say 'creature'?



INTERCUT

MOYA, Main Passage

D'Argo continues his hunt for the 'critter', his Qualta blade slung back over his shoulder.

D'ARGO: Well, I don't care how busy they are. I need more DRDs!

PILOT: Understood. They're on there way.

RYGEL: Oh, I take it you're not having any luck.

D'ARGO: And I take it you aren't going to lift a digit to help!

RYGEL: Well, if I see the creature, you'll be the first to know.

D'ARGO: I'll be sure to follow your screams.

RYGEL: ( laughs ) What about that all powerful Luxan nose? You're always complaining you can smell me. Can't you... sniff this thing out?

D'ARGO: I would... except all I can smell... is Crichton.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Zhaan's Lab

Zhaan peers at something through her 'microscope'. Crichton, sitting on a table, a large bright light shining on him, gets 'grilled' by Chiana, while Aeryn drapes a heavy blanket over his shoulders, and he pulls it tightly around him.
CHIANA: I don't get it, okay? How could that little tiny light turn into this... thing... and then suck you up and then spit out not only you, but...

CRICHTON: Chiana, please... my head. I could probably use some extra clothes?

CHIANA: I'll be 20 microts.

CRICHTON: Thanks.

Chiana darts out as Zhaan is turning from her lab table. She walks toward John holding a small sample dish, a puzzled look on her features.

ZHAAN: This can't be right.

CRICHTON: What can't be right.

ZHAAN: As far as I can tell you received no injuries while you were in that sphere.

CRICHTON: Well, is that a bad thing?

ZHAAN: Well... it means that this blood has to have come from the creature, but...

CRICHTON: "But" what?

ZHAAN: John, this blood is yours.

Crichton nods vacantly.

CRICHTON: This is where it gets good... right? ( sighs heavily )



INTERCUT

MOYA, Crichton's Quarters

Chiana enters quietly, mindful of a potential lurking 'critter'. She circles around the bed, pulling open the folds of the heavy black coat hanging on a rack against the wall. Aforementioned lurking 'critter' hops quietly onto the bed beside her. Turning her head she see's it and 'shrieks'! Darting back around the bed, she tries to flee the room but he grabs her, hurling her back across the room.

The critter takes a step toward her, crouched low, using hands against the floor as well to propel himself forward. Chiana gets to her feet, staying crouched low as well, she's pretty well terrorized, as the creature in front of her grunts and growls, struggling to form words.


CHIANA: Please... whatever... whatever you want.

JOHN: ( grunting ) Ch--

CHIANA: Whatever you came for...

JOHN: ( grunting ) Chi--

CHIANA: You take it, okay?

JOHN: ( grunting ) Chia...

Chiana cocks her head at the creature, curiosity overcoming her fear momentarily, listening closely to the deep, grating voice he struggles make her understand something.

JOHN: Chiana...

CHIANA: You... you know my name?

Struggling with words which are more carefully formed growls, than easily spoken syllables, yet the meaning is painfully clear.

JOHN: ...me... Jo... ( grunts ) ... me... John...

CHIANA: I... don't understand.

Struck by an idea, John moves to the mirror, tapping knuckles against the IASA identification.

CHIANA: What are you?!

Tapping the ID's again, John spots his reflection in the mirror and growls savagely. This is more than she can take-- Chiana screams and bolts for the door. Catching her easily, he flings her backward onto the bed. With a big growling hairy creature looming over her, she screams again.

CHIANA: No! No! D'Argo!

She struggles under the creature, pulling away from its bared teeth. Seeing her fear, he quiets a bit, struggling to grind out the word again.

JOHN: Chiana...

He growls quietly, almost purring. Turning away slightly, he retrieves the yellow flightsuit from the side of the bed and clutches it to his chest, tapping it repeatedly.

JOHN: ...John... Crichton.

CHIANA: You are... are Crichton...

JOHN: Mm.

CHIANA: You can't be...

She looks at him without fear for the first time, and finally 'sees' John, struggling with his own fear.

CHIANA: ... can't be.

JOHN: ...me ... John.

CHIANA: ( softly ) No...



INTERCUT

MOYA, Main Passage

In the passage John ambles next to Chiana, all hair and teeth. The IASA flightsuit pulled on, only up to his waist, the barrel chest and arms much too large to fit inside the rest of the suit.

CHIANA: We're gonna go see Zhaan, okay?

JOHN: Zhaan.

CHIANA: She's gonna figure out what's goin' on.

JOHN: Zhaan. Blue.

CHIANA: You know Zhaan?

JOHN: Mm. Zhaan. Good.

CHIANA: Oh. Good.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Zhaan's Lab

The door to the lab swings wide and Chiana enters. Aeryn, glances briefly at Chiana.

AERYN: Clothes?

CHIANA: Uh. Not quite.

John ambles in, crouching close to the floor, knuckles supporting his weight. John tosses the blanket off his shoulders and leaps off the table to his feet, Aeryn whips her pistol out, aiming it at the 'critter'.

CRICHTON: Whoa!

CHIANA: No, no, no! It's okay. I, uh... I don't think he wants to hurt anyone.

AERYN: Get away from him, Chiana.

CHIANA: I don't think you need the gun.

CRICHTON: Where did you find him? And what the hell is he doin' in my flight suit?

CHIANA: He was in your quarters. Look at him. He thinks he's you.

CRICHTON: What? -- Right.

Unobserved, Zhaan loads an injector, keeping her eyes on the 'critter'.

CRICHTON: All right. Who are you, and what do you want?

John struggles to form the words, again they are more a carefully formed growling 'noise' than a recognizable name.

JOHN: ...me... John... Crichton.

CRICHTON: Yeah. That's a... supurb disguise. It's foolin' everybody, but... who are you?

JOHN: ... you... you...

CRICHTON: God. ( laughs ) Oh, God. I love this.
John reaches out and pushes Aeryn's pistol down, walking between her line of fire and the 'critter'.

CRICHTON: Okay... you-- you wanna-- you wanna stick with that routine? You wanna be the next to mess with me? Well, get in line!

CHIANA: No! Crichton.

CRICHTON: Chiana, I'm sick of it. It's bad enough being spat out of some green blob. Now I got Quasimodo here sayin' he's me!

JOHN: .... me! ... you! ( growls )

CRICHTON: No. You're not.

John steps closer to his imperfect doppleganger, becoming angrier with every step.

CRICHTON: What do you want? Huh? Wh-wh-what do you want? You-you tell me, tell me what you want, and maybe I can get it for you.

John growls unintelligibly and leaning forward, taps John on the chest. John backs away slightly.

CRICHTON: Uh-uh. Don't touch me.

He growls and taps John on the chest again, who takes another slight step backward.

CRICHTON: Uh-uh. Uh-uh.

Snorting he leaps up and grabs John by the shoulders. John strikes his arms away.

CRICHTON: ( yelling ) I said, hands off!

CHIANA: Crichton...

Growling furiously, John charges his present self, driving him back across the room. They land in a pile on top of a table, Aeryn trying to pull one off the other. Zhaan takes the opportunity to inject the creature in the backside. The hiss of the injector is clear above the din of the shouting and growling. His growling tapering off into a short stutter of grunts, the creature topples off John, dragging everyone to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. ( sweet!! )

CHIANA: Please tell me that was just a sleep shot.

ZHAAN: It was.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Containment Cell

D'Argo, Chiana, Rygel and John examine the unconcious 'caveman' version of the wayward american astronaut.

RYGEL: Uh! Truly hideous. But... take away the hair, the brow... I can see a resemblance to you, Crichton.

CHIANA: Well, it's enough to make him 'think' he's you.

Crichton leans in, taking a closer look.

CRICHTON: Oh, please. This is not me, this is some kind of clone or something gone wrong.

CHIANA: Yeah, but how does he-- how does he know everyone? It's like he's got your memories.

CRICHTON: Chiana... half of this galaxy has my memories.

ZHAAN: ( over comms ) John?

CRICHTON: Yeah, Zhaan?

ZHAAN: I've run a full analysis on the blood. There are some minute chromosomal differences, but... apart from that, it's exactly the same as yours. John, I've done every test that I can. There can be no doubt.

CRICHTON: Great. It's got my blood. My DNA.

D'ARGO: If Chiana's right, it's got a lot more than that.

CRICHTON: That's nuts. I mean, who in their right mind would want a copy of me, much less this... 'caveman' version?

D'ARGO: Caveman?

CRICHTON: Yeah, it's a primitive ancestor. They were supposed to have looked like that.

RYGEL: You had ancestors that looked like that?!

CRICHTON: Yeah. What did yours look like?

Before Rygel can formulate an appropriately venemous reply, the deck heaves under their feet.

D'ARGO: Pilot?!

PILOT: It's the sphere... energy fluctuations have recommenced.

CRICHTON: Ah, hell... let's go!

D'ARGO: Chiana... stay here!



INTERCUT

MOYA, Main Passage

John and D'Argo, below the sphere in the passage below the maintenance hanger.

CRICHTON: Aeryn... what's it doing up there?

AERYN: Same as before. Pilot, what are you reading?

PILOT: Same energy fluctuations, only more powerful... and increasing.

The vibrating hum from the sphere abruptly escalates.

CRICHTON: Let's get the hell out of here.

D'Argo and John flee down the hall but are tossed roughly to the deck as an energy discharge from the sphere rocks the vessel.

CRICHTON: Aeryn, Pilot, You guys okay?

PILOT: Energy fluctuations are still present... but diminished.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay

Aeryn, pistol at the ready

AERYN: Crichton, you'd better get up here.

On the floor of the Maintenance Bay, another manifestation of John Crichton wobbles weakly on hands and knees. This version, also devoid of clothing as the 'caveman' version, is also devoid of hair, it's skull slightly overdeveloped, showing the structures of the mind beneath.

Aeryn circles the sphere, relentless with the aim of her pistol as Crichton slowly stands unaided.


( and yes... ladies and gents, it's shirtless JC. Nice. Hair or no... let's just pause it right there for a minute... yeah... very nice. )

CRICHTON: Aeryn...

AERYN: Don't move.

CRICHTON: Look, I'm freezin' here. And why the hell are you pointin' a gun at me?

AERYN: Who are you?

CRICHTON: I'm John... John Crichton?

AERYN: ( short laugh ) I don't think so. For a start, John has more hair...

She gestures slightly lower with the muzzle of the pistol.

AERYN: Amongst other things. Can you blame that on feeling cold?

CRICHTON: What the hell happened to me?





END ACT I












ACT II





MOYA, Cell Level

John stands in the passage outside the open door to a containment cell. Hearing his own voice, his eyes widen and he turns, seeing himself, dressed in the red PK Captain's garb, preceding Aeryn and D'Argo down the passage toward him.

CRICHTON: Listen, I understand why you're doing this, but...

Crichton sees John and stops. They silently appraise the situation.

CRICHTON: Ah.

Crichton walks into the cell, John keys the locking sequence and the door slides closed. ( This episode is PACKED with irony! )

CRICHTON: At least you can talk, so start. Who are you, and what do you know about the sphere?

CRICHTON: ( sighing ) Oh, I know as much as you do.

CRICHTON: Is that because you're supposed to be me?

CRICHTON: Look. I understand the bizarreness of this situation... but I'm telling you the truth. I am John Crichton.

CRICHTON: No... I'm John Crichton.

CRICHTON: I don't doubt... that you're telling the truth.

CRICHTON: Good. Excellent. We're making progress. I get to be me. Ergo, you're not... me.

CRICHTON: Well, no... not as I normally percieve myself. There are some... physical differences.

Crichton gestures to his head.

D'ARGO: Just some?

Aeryn snickers quietly. Simultaneously, D'Argo and John shoot her a 'look'. (Priceless moment! Thanks guys! )

CRICHTON: Yes. ( pause ) But, perhaps it would help if you thought of me as an alternative version of yourself.

CRICHTON: I don't want to think of you at all.

CRICHTON: Well, you have that luxury. I don't. In my memories... I look like you.

CRICHTON: Your memories?

CRICHTON: Yes. I perceive myself has having led your life.

CRICHTON: I don't believe you.

CRICHTON: No. I didn't think that you would.

CRICHTON: Okay. When the Farscape Project received funding... what did I do?

CRICHTON: Celebrated with Dad, D.K., and Alex. Drank a little too much champagne, that cost... way too much... argued with D.K.

CRICHTON: Wait-- what argument?

CRICHTON: He felt that things were going too smoothly... that something had to go wrong... you do remember?

CRICHTON: Yeah... I, uh, I told him he was full of crap. I'd completely forgotten that.
The deck lurches suddenly under their feet again.

AERYN: Pilot?!

PILOT: New activity from the sphere. I'm analyzing.

CRICHTON: D'Argo, Maintenance bay. Aeryn, stay with him, see what you can find out about the sphere!



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay

John and D'Argo run in, the deck still reeling wildly under their feet. All shout over the noise of the vibrating hum being generated by the sphere.

CRICHTON: Pilot, status? Are we about to get another me?

PILOT: I don't... think so. They're different readings from before.

D'ARGO: In what way? ( pause ) Pilot!

PILOT: This... can't be! It... it appears that the sphere is generating some sort of... interdimensional portal.

CRICHTON: Whoa, whoa! This blob is creating a dimensional hole?!

PILOT: Yes. And it's actively trying to pull us through. I estimate we have less than a quarter arn before it pulls us through!



INTERCUT

MOYA, Containment Cell



AERYN: Right. Know anything about this?

CRICHTON: How many times, Aeryn? I don't know anything.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: All right, Pilot. You got any ideas?

PILOT: I'm trying everything I can.

D'ARGO: What about Starburst, perhaps we can blast clear of it.

PILOT: The portal is being generated by the sphere, and the sphere is inside Moya. We cannot escape it.

CRICHTON: Right, well, what the hell can we use?



INTERCUT

MOYA, Containment Cell



CRICHTON: Give me your comms.

AERYN: Why?

CRICHTON: I have an idea. Give me your comms.

AERYN: hm.

CRICHTON: Listen... Aeryn. Do you want to be pulled through to another dimension?

AERYN: No, but perhaps you do.

CRICHTON: I'm not some interdimensional alien. If this ship gets pulled, through I get pulled through as well. So give me... your comms.

Aeryn glares at him silently.

CRICHTON: Aeryn, trust me. ( pause ) Fine, then at least get them a message. Tell them to use the Defense Screen, it's all we've got.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: The Defense Screen.

D'ARGO: What?

CRICHTON: The Defense Screen, we use it to counteract the pull of the dimensional hole!

D'ARGO: Ah, I don't see that...

CRICHTON: Look, I'm not entirely sure here, I'm just kind'a riffin' as I go, but... the Defense Screen deflects energy, right?

D'ARGO: Right.

CRICHTON: So we use it to counteract the pull... I'm in 'Bill and Ted' land here, so... I'm open to suggestion!

D'Argo looks extremely doubtful, shaking his head slightly.

AERYN: ( on comms ) Crichton.

CRICHTON: What?

AERYN: Your 'mutation' has a suggestion.

CRICHTON: Oh, good.

CRICHTON: Listen, you have to use the Defense Screen to counteract ...

CRICHTON & CRICHTON: ( simultaneously ) ... the pull of the dimensional hole!

CRICHTON: Man, I hope we're both right! -- Command!

John points out the door and starts running, D'Argo close behind.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Containment Cell



AERYN: Sounds like he knew what you were thinking.

CRICHTON: You trust me now?

AERYN: No, we still don't know if it's going to work.

The ship is jolted beneath their feet.

CRICHTON: It won't work if they don't set it up right. Aeryn, get me to the Maintenance Bay. -- At gunpoint, if you have to, but get me to the Maintenance Bay.

Aeryn keys the door and Crichton steps out as the door swings open. Aeryn unholsters her pistol.

AERYN: At gunpoint.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: I don't know if it is going to work, Mr. Rygel. I'm just going on a gut instinct. Something I'm sure you can appreciate.

RYGEL: We should be heading for a transport. Not frelling about with the Defense Screen, hoping it'll do something.

D'ARGO: Then go to a transport! At least then, if we die, we'll die in peace!

CRICHTON: Pilot, are you ready to transfer power to the Defense Screen?

PILOT: Ready.

CRICHTON: Good, 'cause we're about finished here.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay

Crichton and Aeryn enter. Crichton snags a diagnostic tool from the workbench and moves toward the sphere.

CRICHTON: John, what power settings are you using?



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: Everything's set at 100%, why?



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay

Crichton takes measurements of the sphere's energy readings with the diagnostic tool.

CRICHTON: I'm afraid you're going to have to recalibrate.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: No, no, no, no, no. We're not recalibrating anything. We give this thing everything we've got.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: The settings have to be synchronized with readings from the sphere or they'll never counteract the pull.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: ( softly ) They have to be synchronus.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: Recalibrate to 85%.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



RYGEL: You're not going to seriously do what he says, are you?

John contemplates this information for a long moment, then abruptly exploding into motion-- charges across Command, to the Defense Screen.

CRICHTON: ( shouting ) Shift 'em down! Shift 'em down!

RYGEL: You're mad!

CRICHTON: Pilot, are you good to go up there?!

PILOT: On your command!

CRICHTON: D'Argo...

D'ARGO: Right.

John bolts back to the command control console, engaging a control.

CRICHTON: Do it now!

PILOT: Doing it!

The Defense screen engages with a deep hum of it's own, the ship rumbles and Pilot groans in pain.

PILOT: It worked, the screen's deflecting the sphere's energy back on itself. It stopped dragging us in.

CRICHTON: ( whispering ) You son of a bitch.

D'ARGO: He was right.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



AERYN: Impressive.

CRICHTON: I'm pleased that it worked. But we're not out of the woods yet. ... Pilot, how long can we hold out?

PILOT: Our energy levels won't last forever. I estimate the Defense Screen will be able to counteract the pull of the sphere for only... four arns. Perhaps less.

CRICHTON: That's assuming the Defense Screen itself holds out. ... We should work under the basis that we have less than three arns.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Containment Cell

John lies sleeping still on the floor of the cell, Chi approaches him cautiously. Her light footsteps wake him abruptly. He pulls away, crouching on all fours.

CHIANA: Hey... hey, hey... it's okay. It's me. Pip.

JOHN: ... what... happened?

CHIANA: You lost it for a microt. You remember?

JOHN: ( grunts ) Sphere... must know... what happened... Chiana.

CHIANA: I can't tell you anything. I've had my comms off. I didn't want to wake you.

JOHN: ( agitated ) ... must know.

John bolts to the cell door, finding it locked he climbs up onto the cross hatched bars, yanking on them and howling. Dropping to the floor he prowls it on all fours, growling furiously, a full-on caveman panic attack!

CHIANA: Hey, easy! Calm down! ... Crichton! ... John!

John stops ranting as suddenly as he'd started, looking at Chiana.

CHIANA: That is your name... right? Who you are?

JOHN: ... was me.

CHIANA: What do you mean, was?

JOHN: ... look...( grunts )... John no more. Gone.

Outside the cell door, Crichton and Aeryn arrive.

CRICHTON: Well, it doesn't look as though we'll learn anything here.

John growls menacingly, as Chiana approaches the cell door.

CHIANA: Who the frell are you?

AERYN: Apparently, another Crichton.

CHIANA: Another?

CRICHTON: Hello, Pip. I don't suppose he's told you anything useful about the sphere.

CHIANA: You don't have to go through me. Ask him yourself.

JOHN: ... you me ... too?

CRICHTON: Would there really be any point? -- Looking at him, however, does raise some interesting possibilities. There seems to be a pattern to my replication.

AERYN: Don't you mean Crichton's replications?

CRICHTON: Indeed. He is the template. The original. And on the one hand we have this version who seems barely able to think. And on the other hand...

AERYN: You.

CRICHTON: Hm. -- Pilot. Have you attempted to communicate with the sphere?

PILOT: It hasn't responded to any of my signals. But it is sending out a number of it's own. Commander Crichton has already started looking at them.

CRICHTON: Of course he has.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Pilot's Den



PILOT: Stand by for the first signals.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: I told you, I've already analyzed this signal.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: I understand that, but we're going to analyze it again. When you're ready, Pilot.

An audible, seeming static filled but low pitched signal, fills the Maintenance Bay and Command.

CRICHTON: Can you try a lower pitch please?

The garbled signal's tonal quality adjusts accordingly.

CRICHTON: Now try filtering out the third and fifth harmonics.

The quality of the 'noise' adjusts again, becoming a bit more annoying to hear.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



RYGEL: ( laughing ) Listen to this... double the Crichton and you double the waste of time!

CRICHTON: That's very funny, Rygel.

D'ARGO: We really should be paying more attention to this Defense Shield. It's already showing signs of strain.

CRICHTON: Yes... Oh!

The tonal quality of the signal adjusts abruptly to a high pitched keening whine. Everyone cringes. Before it becomes too irritating, the signal transmission adjusts quality again and silence is preceded by a loud buzzing. Everyone relaxes.

D'ARGO: It finally stopped.

CRICHTON: What stopped?

The signal that John can still hear, though no on else seems to, fills command.

CRICHTON: You can't hear this?



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



AERYN: So much for that.

CRICHTON: You can't hear that?

ALIEN VOICE: The sample...



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command

John listens intently, as the signal resolves to an audible 'voice'.

RYGEL: Crichton, would you mind explaining...

ALIEN VOICE: ... translating...

CRICHTON: Shut up, Fluffy.

ALIEN VOICE: Translating to alien brainwave pattern.


INTERCUT

MOYA, Containment Cell

John listens to the transmission while Chiana babbles in the background. John shushes her with a gesture.

ALIEN VOICE: Translating to alien brainwave pattern. You incapacitated our sample collection.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay

Crichton listens to the transmission as well.

ALIEN VOICE: Resulting in the loss of the targeted sample and genetic derivatives. Internal repairs have been completed.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



ALIEN VOICE: ... but our vessel cannot return unless it carries at least one of the target samples.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Containment Cell



ALIEN VOICE: If the sample is not placed within the vessel, it will automatically...


INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



ALIEN VOICE: ... retrieve all biological matter within one metra...



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



ALIEN VOICE: ... of it's radius. We do not wish to harm you. To avoid inadvertant damage, place one of the targeted sample into our vessel.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Containment cell



ALIEN VOICE: ... one of the targeted sample.

The transmission terminates.

JOHN: ... one... must go back.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: Facinating. We have an answer.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



D'ARGO: Crichton, what is going on?

CRICHTON: One of us has got to die.





END ACT II












ACT III





MOYA, Command
D'ARGO: A sample?

CRICHTON: Yes, apparently, that's what I am.

D'ARGO: And what if the sphere's not got what it came for?

CRICHTON: Then it's gonna take all of us.

RYGEL: To another dimension? ( chuckles ) I don't think so. Sorry, Crichton. Perhaps we can spare each of you a small last meal. ( chuckles )

CRICHTON: One, Rygel. It wants one of me.

RYGEL: One? You mean we're going to be left with two of you?



INTERCUT

MOYA, Containment cell



CHIANA: Look, just 'cause the sphere wants a Crichton, that doesn't mean it has to be you, okay?

JOHN: ... will be me. ( grunts ) ... who else?

CHIANA: What about the guy with the big head?

John grunts in amusement and Chi giggles.

CHIANA: Hey, you got just as much right to be here as he does.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: A remarkable device. You understand what this is? This is a pure research vessel. Devoted to the study of life.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: Yes, it's a remarkable device. I just wish it'd chosen some other life to study. ... Why me? Why not all of us?



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: Because it's never seen...

CRICHTON & CRICHTON: ( simultaneously ) anything like us before.

CRICHTON: Correct. It's already had a chance to collect a Luxan, a Delvian...



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: And one of everyone else on board.

CRICHTON: ( over comms ) I'd wager that your replication...



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: ... or rather, my creation, is a by-product of it's research. A mapping of our genetic pathways.

D'ARGO: ( over comms ) Enough! I don't care... what this thing does. All I know is that I want to get rid of it!

CRICHTON: Understandable. And unfortunately, we have an answer. We return the most expendable one of us.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: What? No, I... don't think so.

RYGEL: Oh come on! Are you going to say he's wrong? Let's just give the sphere the hairy bastard and get it the frell out of here!



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: Well, not quite as I would have phrased it, Rygel, but the situation...



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: We're getting way ahead of ourselves here, guys. Way ahead. What if we're... wrong. Huh? What are we--? We're gonna chuck him to the sphere like he's nothing?! We can't do that.

RYGEL: I can.

CRICHTON: And what if there's another solution? One we that haven't found yet?



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: John, you heard the message.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: Yes. I heard the message. But we just bought ourselves a couple of arns, and we're gonna use it to find another solution.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: No, no. You're losing perspective.


INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: No I am widening my perspective. That is what I do-- that's what makes me me!



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



AERYN: Crichton, what's the alternative? I try and shoot at this thing again?

Crichton snickers unpleasantly (*shiver*)



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: Aeryn, that is a bad plan. You really don't want another me.

D'ARGO: John, let's just...

CRICHTON: What?! D'Argo... you gonna tell me I'm wrong?! -- Since when do we take the easy way out? -- Is anyone with me on this?

RYGEL: Not me.

CRICHTON: Very well. Let's try and see what we can find. But John? When the time comes...

CRICHTON: Yes. -- Pilot, I want every reading you have on that sphere-- All of them.

PILOT: Very well, Crichton.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Containment Cell



CHIANA: I know Crichton, okay? You know Crichton... you are him for frell's sake. Look, I promise you, he's not gonna quit... till he fixes this.

JOHN: ... know Crichton.

CHIANA: Yeah.

JOHN: ... save Moya... save Pip... only one answer.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Pilot's Den



PILOT: I've transferred all collected information on the sphere to a data console in the Maintenance Bay. The 'other' Crichton has started an analysis.

CRICHTON: You don't think he's gonna much much luck, do ya?

PILOT: Very perceptive.

CRICHTON: We have to try, Pilot.

PILOT: With all respect, I've analyzed that data four times. I doubt any new insights will be gained.

CRICHTON: Pilot, I am not gonna let Moya get sucked into the sphere.

PILOT: Neither am I. Crichton, I should tell you... Moya would never expect an innocent being to die for her sake. She will understand if you choose to leave.

CRICHTON: We're not gonna do that.

PILOT: I know. But... while I would never want my fate to be different to Moya's, I do not share her acceptance of this situation. If we have the solution, then I suggest--

CRICHTON: That is what I am trying to find, Pilot, and I am not gonna stop until I have to. Do you understand that?

PILOT: I... understand.

CRICHTON: Good. Now, let's see if we can get a message to these body snatchers.

The deck jolts suddenly, staggering them.

PILOT: Ahh! It's the Defense Screen!

D'ARGO: Crichton! We have a power drain!

CRICHTON: Can we reroute through the Neural Cluster?

D'ARGO: Already onto it. We need you in Command.

CRICHTON: On the way.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay

Crichton examines a holo display over a control console, Zhaan moves beside him as the deck shudders.

CRICHTON: It feels as though our options on how to resolve this are becoming limited.

ZHAAN: We are not giving up.

CRICHTON: Look at the data, Zhaan. I'm thinking with more speed and clarity than I ever have before, and I'm still only able to absorb a fraction of this.

ZHAAN: Something may reveal itself.

CRICHTON: Yes, things are revealing themselves. They're just not pertinent to this situtation.

Crichton terminates the holo display and walks away thoughtfully. ( important line alert.)

CRICHTON: It's amazing, Zhaan, what's happened to me. Virtually without even trying, I'm beginning to understand concepts that I've been thinking about for months... years.

ZHAAN: You may find a solution here, if you try.

CRICHTON: No, this is over. We know what the outcome will be. I'm talkin' about the future. About what's possible.

ZHAAN: You're just going to give up?

CRICHTON: I'm gonna face reality.

ZHAAN: This is reality.

CRICHTON: No... this is futile.

ZHAAN: You are not the John Crichton I know.

CRICHTON: Zhaan... look at what's happened to me. How could I be?

ZHAAN: I wonder if you can also see what you have lost. Your logic may be firm but it is cold.

CRICHTON: But correct. When all the options have been exhausted, the John Crichton you know will reach the same conclusion. I get there quicker. That's the only difference. And I know that you'll get there too.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Neural Cluster

D'Argo and Aeryn work feverishly to provide additional energy to the Defense Screen.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command

John works on the Defense Screen, which sputters overloads everywhere, cables swing freely from the ceiling. It's a disaster area.

CRICHTON: The reserve power unit's completely burned out.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Neural Cluster



D'ARGO: The Defense Screen was not made for this.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: Just give me whatever power you got.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Neural Cluster



AERYN: We're feeding you as much as we can.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: I don't want to hear that, Aeryn.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Neural Cluster



AERYN: Well, we're running out of options, Crichton. We can't keep doing this.

D'ARGO: John.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: D'Argo?



INTERCUT

MOYA, Neural Cluster



D'ARGO: I just want you to know... that if you have to get rid of one of the Crichtons... I'm there for you.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: I appreciate the offer, D'Argo. But I'm not giving up yet.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Neural Cluster



D'ARGO: I understand. But I also want you to know... that if you don't start facing reality soon... I'm going to face it for you!



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: Just give me some more time.

D'ARGO: ( over comms ) Crichton!

CRICHTON: D'Argo, just give me more time! Now I want all the power you got.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Neural Cluster



D'ARGO: Transferring power.

D'Argo initiates the power transfer inside the Neural Cluster. Instantly the power build up starts to overload the defense screen. Moya shudders uncontrollably, and D'Argo and Aeryn are tossed to the floor.

In command, John notes the overload in the Defense Screen and dives for cover just as the frelling thing explodes in a shower of sparks, fire and debris.




INTERCUT

MOYA, Pilot's Den



PILOT: The Defense Screen's down to it's last power cell. It cannot be recharged while the screen is still active. You must do something now!



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay

An interesting sequence, two Crichton's discuss final options. ( And does anyone besides me think they were doing this 'without' benefit of comms? )

CRICHTON: It's time.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command

John picks himself up off the floor and sits on a handy crate.

CRICHTON: I know.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: Would you like me to take care of it?



INTERCUT

MOYA, COMMAND

John doesn't answer. Resistant but knowing, or believing, he's out of options.

CRICHTON: ( over comms? ) Is that a yes?

CRICHTON: How can you sound so calm?



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay

( Uh-oh, another 'significant line' alert )

CRICHTON: You think I don't feel for him? Of course I do. But I'm prepared to do what has to be done. Now, would you like me to take care of it?



INTERCUT

MOYA, Command



CRICHTON: No. I'll take care of it.

CRICHTON: John?



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: Don't feel bad. You knew this moment was coming.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Main Passage

D'Argo and John walk down the passage, heading to the containment cells. ( Wonderful slow mo. Cath likes to see them walk .... yeah. Me too. )

CRICHTON: I appreciate you comin' with me, D'Argo.

D'ARGO: I would not have you do it alone. Besides, I do not think he will go voluntarily.

John keys the lock and the doors swings open. Stepping inside, the only thing visible is John's flight suit, lying in a rumpled heap in the middle of the floor. John's 'predecessor' is no where in sight.

CHIANA: Looking for someone?

CRICHTON: Where is he?

CHIANA: Hiding.

D'ARGO: Chiana.

CHIANA: What? You think I'd just let you kill him. I set him free.





END ACT III












ACT IV





MOYA, Containment cell
D'ARGO: How could you have done this?!

CHIANA: Frell you, D'Argo!

D'ARGO: Where is he?

CHIANA: Somewhere... you'll never find.

Chiana strokes his beard playfully, and he strikes her hand away.

D'ARGO: Do you know what you've done? We had a simple choice. Simple-- He dies... we live. Now we all die. Moya dies!

CHIANA: We have two choices left.

CRICHTON: Two?! I'm the one who's supposed to be here. You think I should go in there?!

D'Argo charges out of the room, followed by John, Chiana follows John. They continue arguing on the fly.

CHIANA: Yeah? Well what about your baldheaded friend, he meant to be here too?

CRICHTON: I tried to find another way.

CHIANA: Oh, yeah, I bet you did.

John wheels about, glaring down at Chiana. ( Significant line alert. )

CRICHTON: Damn it, Chiana, that is not fair!

CHIANA: Fair?! You think this guy's nothing! He's you! He's warm. He's sensitive. He's everything I ever liked about you.

Moya is rocked by another series of powerful shudders, the deck begins to ripple, stretch and tear, debris falls from the walls and ceiling. D'Argo, Chiana and John stagger under the barrage.

D'ARGO: You take tiers one to three... I'll take four to seven.

John and D'Argo run off in different directions. Chiana stands, alone before darting off in a third direction.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Main Passage



AERYN: Update, Pilot.

PILOT: Remaining power cell down to 15%. The DRD's still report no sign of the other Crichton.

Crichton, out and about without supervision, meets Aeryn at a junction in the passage.

CRICHTON: I've checked the rest of this tier.

AERYN: Then we'll have to move on to the next one.

CRICHTON: Aeryn, I think it's time we reassess.

AERYN: I'm guessing you're not going to volunteer to go into the sphere.

CRICHTON: Correct. You've seen what I can do. I can help this crew.

AERYN: What do you suggest I do now? Turn around and start hunting Crichton?

CRICHTON: It would make sense.

AERYN: To you, yes. But you don't belong here. You're a mistake. So you better pray we find the other one.

Aeryn turns to continue their search, but Crichton's not done and attempts one last ploy.

CRICHTON: Aeryn.

Aeryn turns back at his softly spoken behest, but instead of another patented Crichton 'trust me', she gets a well delivered jab to the jaw and goes down like the proverbial ton of bricks. Crichton deftly snags her pulse pistol from her holster before she hits the ground.

CRICHTON: Sorry.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Zhaan's Lab

Chiana darts in, immediately spying Rygel messing with one of Zhaan's injectors.

CHIANA: Rygel!

RYGEL: You stupid boney-assed little bitch! What were you thinking?!

CHIANA: What was I thinking?!

RYGEL: It was 'self-preservation'! I thought you, of all people, would have understood that! Even Crichton understood it.

CHIANA: What are you doing?

RYGEL: What do you think? The first Crichton I see gets this in the back of his head!

CHIANA: No way.

RYGEL: Yeah. We're all gonna die if one of them doesn't.

Chiana makes a grab for the injector, but Rygel slides away.

CHIANA: No way!

RYGEL: Yes, way! And I don't care which one it is! It's your doing, Chiana!

CHIANA: Rygel!


INTERCUT

MOYA, Neural Cluster

Crichton enters, weapon drawn. Glancing around the room cautiously, he moves to the central core. Looking up inside the central core, he finds his predecessor, clinging to the walls above his head. John grunts and snarls.

JOHN: ... how?

CRICHTON: How did I know where to find you? -- I knew where I'd go if I wanted to hide. You know why I'm here?

JOHN: ... sphere.

CRICHTON: Yeah.

The ship shudders violently once more, reminding him of the urgency.

CRICHTON: I'm letting you go. ... Get out of here.

Crichton pulls away from the central core, and John climbs down onto the floor.

CRICHTON: Go! Move it!

John scrambles out of the Neural Cluster, leaving Crichton alone as the ship continues to tremble under his feet.

CRICHTON: ( engaging comms ) Crichton... I found him. Meet me in the Maintenance Bay.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay



CRICHTON: On my way.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Main Passage

Moya's deteriorating badly, the corridors are no longer safe for passage. Crichton leaps from one point to another, seeking the safest footing.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Maintenance Bay

John runs in from the passage, and Crichton approaches him slowly from across the bay, lifting Aeryn's purloined pistol in a dead aim.

CRICHTON: Where is he?

CRICHTON: I let him go.

CRICHTON: I thought you would. John, you had your chance. And you blew it. You let your emotions get the better of you. You couldn't face reality.

CRICHTON: "Couldn't face reality"? ... "Face reality"?! We were saving ourselves at someone elses expense!

CRICHTON: Who wasn't worth saving. Come on, Johnny... don't tell me you didn't think that? I can see a part of you still thinks it. Remember the way you first saw the ape-man? How you could legitimize sacrificing him? ... Well guess what? ... That's the way I see you.

Drawing ever closer, the pistol almost in his face, John quickly flings a small object across the room. Distracted by the movement, Crichton's eyes and aim follow the object long enough for John to duck and roll out of the line of fire, the shot that follows him a fraction of a second later, misses clean. John rolls behind a work bench and crouches out of sight.

CRICHTON: Tell me something... If I wasn't here, you wouldn't volunteer to go in the sphere, would ya?

CRICHTON: Moya might emerge through the dimensional portal unscathed. I'll take that risk.

CRICHTON: Aw, yeah. Aren't you special. With an attitude like that, you really think you're the best of the three of us?

CRICHTON: You know I am.

CRICHTON: Yeah, you're fantanstic. You're gonna fit in great around here, the rest of the crew's just gonna love ya.

John climbs up into the support beams above the workbench, concealing himself 'above' Crichton's head. Crichton continues to prowl the floor, seeking out his progenitor.

CRICHTON: They will when they see what I can do for 'em.

CRICHTON: You just told me you'd sell 'em down the river. Let 'em go through the portal. ... I tell you what... you ever want to know what it was like to have 'em as 'friends'? Just think back to when you were me.

CRICHTON: You're very judgemental for someone who's still hiding.

John drops down to the floor, his own pistol drawn, held with determined aim on his 'future self'.

CRICHTON: No I'm not. ... We're out of time.

John takes dead aim, but can't bring himself to fire. He throws the pistol aside, it clangs loudly on the deck.

CRICHTON: Bet you didn't guess that move.

CRICHTON: You're very predictable.

CRICHTON: I prefer to think of it as 'reliable'.

CRICHTON: Huh.

Crichton clubs John solidly on the jaw with his pistol, knocking him to his hands and knees.

CRICHTON: You understand it has to be this way. I could never really be me with you still around. I'd always be the outsider. Smarter, more capable. Yet not quite John.

CRICHTON: You think you're ever going to be anything but an outsider?

CRICHTON: Better than dying.

John quickly stands erect, almost looking 'down' on his future self. He doesn't like what he sees.

CRICHTON: So... you're the future. I'm glad I won't be here to see it.

John turns and walks slowly toward the sphere. Crichton watches him go, an insufferably smug look on his face, until John clubs if off him from behind, crushing his skull with a long pipe.

John turns around at the noise and sees John standing over Crichton's body.

Running back to the body, he crouches down beside Crichton, touching his future self's neck, checking for signs of life. Finding none, he stands and moves slightly away from John, a dazed and shocked look on his face.


JOHN: ...dead?

CRICHTON: Yeah.

JOHN: ...good.
John lifts Crichton's body from the floor, hefting it easily over his shoulder. He turns and walks toward the sphere.

CRICHTON: Hey! ... Hey, you don't have to do that!

John turns and looks at Crichton, dead weight held easily across his shoulders.

JOHN: ...want to... Not my place... Don't belong.

CRICHTON: Look, I don't... I don't really belong here either.

JOHN: ... you're time... you're place... ... my fate... I accept.

CRICHTON: ( softly ) I understand... ... I understand.

John turns, and walks into the sphere. Both past and future Crichtons' are quickly absorbed into the sphere. The sphere rises from the deck and passes through the ceiling of the Maintenance Bay... disappearing from sight.

CRICHTON: Good luck.





END ACT IV












EPILOGUE





MOYA, Command

D'Argo works on the remains of the Defense Screen, turning as the door swings open and Crichton walks in. He's beat.
CRICHTON: How's Aeryn?

D'ARGO: Well, she's doing better than this Defense Screen. In fact, she's doing better than you, you look terrible.

CRICHTON: Oh, I've had better... days.

D'ARGO: You did what you thought was right, John.

CRICHTON: And I did what I knew was wrong. The future Crichton-- ( laughs softly ) kind of makes you wonder if that's where we're headed.

D'ARGO: It's only one possible genetic path.

CRICHTON: Yeah, but it's possible. That's the problem.

Crichton turns away and walks out of Command.



INTERCUT

MOYA, Containment cell

Crichton crouches in the center of the cell, holding the discarded flightsuit in both hands, silently and sadly, contemplative. Chiana stands behind him, watching him stroke the Farscape logo distractedly.

CHIANA: I heard about what you did.

Crichton looks up from the flightsuit for a moment, a response formulates but goes unspoken, his gaze lowering once more to the flightsuit.

CHIANA: You really offered to take the dive?

CRICHTON: It took me a while... and I needed some help.

Chiana moves closer, crouching down just behind him. His mood his reflected in his furrowed brows and glowering frown.

CHIANA: Well... for what it's worth... I'm glad it worked out the way it did.

CRICHTON: I wish I could be.... I always thought I was a good guy, Chiana. But it was the least developed one of me... the one I thought least likely, who did the right thing. ... And somehow you knew.

CHIANA: ( softly ) I know you.

Chiana gently presses her lips to his shoulder, and then rubs her cheek against that spot. He turns toward her, a small smile rising for her. He nods almost imperceptibly, and she rises and quietly leaves him to his musings.

Alone in the cell, his gaze wanders between the two logos sewn onto the sleeves of the flightsuit. They can't give him the answers he seeks. Head bowed, he presses the flightsuit to closed eyes.






FADE TO BLACK












ROLL ENDING CREDITS










For your amusement & total body immersion:
Check Out the Following Reviews, Episode Synopsis, & 'CIL!' for:
"My Three Crichtons"
at the scifi.com "Farscape" Bulletin Board

Captain Hornblower Reviews : "My Three Crichtons" ...needless to say "I" liked it better! :)
News from SACC :"My Three Crichtons"
CrystalMoon; MTC - A Metaphor for John
Bama's Observations :"My Three Crichtons"





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