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               FADE IN

               EXT. PLANET EARTH DAY

               The endless abyss of outer space. 

               A lone cloud covered blue marble hangs in the blackness. Once
               human's home, now a world of synthetic creations.

               A world of computer intellect. Towering right angled and cone
               shaped buildings. And the sun glares brightly off the
               hundreds of windows that dot the buildings.

               Personal transports zip by on translucent highways, which at
               greater heights, pass through buildings. 

               Angry "drivers" whip around slower vehicles. Better drivers
               zip straight up over obstacles, or fly away altogether to
               avoid traffic.

               Display ads dot the sky. Body conditioner to keep synthetic
               flesh soft and supple. Plastic body part replacements.
               Flashing non-sexual reproduction center pop-outs for best
               time to be implanted.


               A huge pyramid topped building in the center of this future
               city gleams brightly. 

               Top window at the tip of the pyramid, a figure stands.

               ZOOM to, and around the figure.


               MILEN CONTREL, tall bronze male in long flowing robes, the
               material softly iridescent, forms his muscled frame

               Hands behind his back, he stares out the floor length window
               to the city. 

               Four members of the Synth High Council sit at a squared
               triangle table, whispering amongst themselves, anxious. 

               Milen's displeasure is apparent as he turns.

                         Mentals, we cannot allow this
                         travesty. If humans became known,
                         others might seek to do the same.

               COLAN MEXTIC, a bird-like face on a small frame, grimaces
               cynically . Ornate robes belay his status, second in line for
               power and his impatience shows. 

                         Milen, that possibility has been

                         Sending him into space does nothing
                         to solve the problem.

               KANTRON REX, a hunched dour old Synthetic. Once a leader. His
               glory like his colorful gown now faded, remains a proponent
               of the old ways.

                         We cannot kill him.  It is not

                         This society is better without
                         humans. They destroyed themselves
                         once. Another could bring the same.

                         But Supreme, it is against all laws
                         passed through time.

                         We are the law.

                         We allowed him to reach maturity.
                         That was the first mistake.

                         He was an experiment. We had to

               Contemplating at the squared end of the table. DEVON MARX an
               Elder Synthetic in gold braided robes. 

               His wizened face shows centuries as his head raises from his
               thoughts. Fingers peaked.

                         We know too much. And what we
                         know... must be forgotten again.
                         Our future depends on the security
                         of the past.

                         I told you to destroy it! Millions
                         of years of purity. Now this?

                         We did what had to be.

                         He's out of our hair. But the
                         knowledge he exists isn't?

                         Then removing of that knowledge
                         becomes paramount.

                         His position conceals that... and
                         his maturity. Can't we leave him

                         Let us hope, nothing happens to
                         spoil his anonymity... or bring
                         attention to his presence.

               Milen turns back to the window.

               EXT. SPACE 

               A massive configuration of salvaged metal and spaceship parts
               pieced together. Huge and sleek, rumbles past. 

               Bursts into hyper-light. Explodes into light. Disappears. And
               as quickly reappears. 

               Stopped. In blackness. 

               EXT. SPACE 

               Space. Stars. NO SOUND.

               MUSIC rhythmic striptease UP SOFTLY, then louder as the frame
               explodes into light we see,

               INT. DRAGONEER SPACE

               Sleek long female fingers with silken nails unbutton a halter
               top's four buttons.

               One by one.

               These beautiful hands pull the halter open to reveal two soft
               peaks of perky perfection.

               A second later, the hands do it again.

               INT. DRAGONEER DAY

               Inside the ship's long empty corridors, the MUSIC ECHOS over
               a constant rumble. Everywhere in the warehouse like ship.

               Just the music.

               INT. DRAGONEER DAY

               Full body image of a voluptuous female posed in a seat with
               indented metal hand shaped  pressure plates on the arms. As
               it repeatedly unbuttons, opens and flashes.

               Again and again... 

               Like a skipped CD. The "Imigirl" has a glitch.

               JARI RENKO 30's, earth's only human.

               Sits head in hand. A brash young rebel. Elbow on seat arm,
               eyes glazed at the seat across, bored with the repeat play.

               He whistles absently. His other hand punches something on the
               console to his side. 

               A square array of holographic star charts pops in air between
               him and the imigirl.

               Jari touches a point on the screen as it floats mid-air.

               Smaller screen zooms out from larger, a cloud covered planet.

               He touches the screen again. Another pop out.

               An earth news transmit: Synth's First Human becomes Earth's
               First "Star Catcher" an accompanying photo of a smirking
               Jari, illegible text of how Synth Society made it an honor to
               be an outcast.

               Behind it all, the imigirl continues to unbutton and flash.

               Dejected, Jari punches the screen. All but the Imigirl

                         Humph! Easy way to say we don't
                         want you.

               Jari brow furrowed, notices the ship's lack of motion. 

               BUZZER SOUNDS on console. An image of a elegantly beautiful
               woman, ANLOT BUTTE (30's), human in appearance, long flowing
               hair, doubtful darting eyes appears in seat with imigirl.

                         What's talking you so long?

               Startled, a nervous Jari moves close to the image face.

                         Anni! I I could kiss you!

               The image draws back.

                         You are awfully happy to see me...
                         seeing you should be here next to

               Jari punches controls surreptitiously, his hand behind at the
               panel, tries to make the imigirl Anlot is sitting in

                         What's going on Jari? Why are you
                         up in my face?

                         Eh, checking for blemishes.

               A BRIGHT LIGHT appears. Sparkles. Static bursts spark. 

               Shapes into the spark filled human form of TRACTOR. 

               Electrical energy floating, held together only by the human
               shape, solidifies behind the duo in the chair.

               Anlot looks down at her body.

                         Why do I have four arms Jari? 
                         And what is this?

               Just as he starts to explain, Tractor shut the imigirl off.


                         I had... there were...

                         Space distortion. My mail order
                         bride isn't getting a little nutsy
                         waiting, is she?

                         Stop that. You know I hate it. Only
                         other human gene in the galaxy you
                         should be nicer.

               Behind her image, another figure can be made out. Moving.

                         Hon is someone there?

               Anlot pulls a woman into the image. An eerie sight. The upper
               torso image of MIRA ZINOX, a seductive dark doe-eyed beauty,
               her lower torso invisible. 


               Anlot pushes her out of the image parameter. 

                         Just an aid. In the way all the
                         time. When are you getting here?

               Tractor his face jumbled, waves the two off. Checks console
               on other side of image. His voice sounds as if through a

                         Why are we stopped?

               Jari surprised, glances to the console. Reaches to adjust

                         I don't know.

                         Jari, I said, when are you coming?

                         Set the table. Got to run hon.

               He punches a control. The image fades.
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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.