ALIEN NATION

ALIEN NATION 

Original Screenplay by Rockne S. O'Bannon

Rewrite by James Cameron

October 1987

FADE IN:

EXT. MOJAVE DESERT - DAY (TELEVISION IMAGE)

A LONG LENS SHOT of a far distant metallic object hovering

just above the ground -- maybe two or three miles away.

The heat waves and the light refraction off the desert-

scape make the object undulate rhythmically, keeping its

true shape and appearance indistinct.

The VIDEO CAMERA recording this scene zooms back, then

pans over -- revealing a semicircle of US Army vehicles

and personnel. Army Engineers with their tripod-mounted

scopes and binoculars are shoulder to shoulder with the

armed infantry. Everyone stares off at the same point on

the horizon. Waiting.

The VIDEO CAMERA movements are HANDHELD, unsteady, as it

moves through the line of Army personnel to reveal a

second, less organized semicircle of observers fifty yards

behind the Army. LOCALS from nearby towns perch in truck

beds and on car roofs, Budweiser and Fritos at hand, eyes

glued to the distant object.

The VIDEO CAMERA image climbs up onto the roof of a parked

local TV van, finds the object again in the distance,

zooms in, and waits, like everyone else.

Abruptly the VIDEO IMAGE contracts, becoming a box

CHROMAKEYED behind CNN reporter DUNCAN CRAIS.

CRAIS

That was the scene in California's

Mojave Desert three years ago today

-- the historic first view of the

Newcomer ship upon its dramatic

arrival. As with the assassination

of John Kennedy, who among us does

not remember exactly where he was

that October nineteenth morning,

when news first broke: that people

have landed... from another star.

We PULL BACK from a large television set to reveal...

INT. A CROWDED BAR - LOS ANGELES - NIGHT

The Hollowpoint Lounge -- a cop bar.

The off-duty uniformed and plainclothes cops are mostly

ignoring the TV, except for two detectives, FEDORCHUK and

ALTEREZ, who are waiting for the ball scores.

FEDORCHUK

I remember where I was -- pissing

off my balcony at the neighbor's

dog!

Others laugh.

ALTEREZ

(yells at Crais on TV)

Get to the goddamn ball scores!

ON THE TV SCREEN, an on-location interview with a CAL-TECH

PROFESSOR comes up. Her name and title appear across the

bottom of the screen.

CAL-TECH PROFESSOR

From the time mankind first gazed up

at the stars there had been

speculation about a visit by people

from "out there." How ironic that

when that first contact was made,

the two hundred and sixty thousand

occupants aboard the craft were as

surprised as we were about their

arrival. That they awakened from

frozen hibernation to find their

malfunctioning autopilot had landed

them here by mistake.

The CNN reporter, Duncan Crais, appears again.

CRAIS

These "Newcomers," we soon learned,

were a genetically-engineered race,

adapted for hard labor in almost any

environmental condition. In effect,

their ship was a slave ship...

washed ashore on Earth with no way

to get back to where they came

from...

A dishwasher tray filled with beer glasses CUTS ACROSS

FRAME, and we PAN WITH IT as it is slammed down on the

countertop.

Now an interview with a FRESNO HOUSEWIFE standing outside

a supermarket comes on the TV SCREEN.

FRESNO HOUSEWIFE

When the Newcomers were first let

out of the ship, they were

quarantined in a camp not ten miles

from the town here. You can imagine

how the people around here felt

about that. But once they were

releases from the camp and we got a

chance to know them, we saw what

nice, quiet people they really are...

WIDER

revealing a MASSIVE ALIEN FIGURE in a filthy white

busboy's uniform. His back is to us as he picks up two

trays from the counter. The bartender is dwarfed by this

Newcomer, but works around him without apparent concern.

Fedorchuk addresses the alien busboy.

FEDORCHUK

Hey, Henry, how you doin' tonight?

Workin' hard?

The Newcomer turns -- his face is humanoid, but

disturbingly alien.

FEDORCHUK

You got your green card, buddy? You

didn't leave home without it?

The cops at the bar crack up. Henry looks at Fedorchuk --

his eyes carrying no malice... or pain. He merely blinks.

CUT TO:

INT./ EXT. SLUG-MOBILE - STREET - NIGHT

An explosion of color and movement as OPENING TITLES PLAY

very quickly. We're TRAVELING the streets in a n.d.

sedan, getting MOVING GLIMPSES of the aliens living among

us now:

-- A coffee shop where aliens eat at some window tables.

-- A Newcomer leaving a night school with an armload of

books.

-- A city park where a number of alien families have

gathered to play some arcane alien game.

SYKES

Jeez... they call that gang-bang a

game...?

-- A billboard for Pepsi featuring an alien.

-- The sedan has pulled to a stop at a red light.

Suddenly a hand thumps against the glass next to Sykes'

head... and alien hand. Sykes jumps. It's a NEWCOMER

DERELICT standing there, weaving, mumbling in his own

language. In one filthy hand holds a quart carton of

milk. We know immediately what he wants. Sykes rolls

down the window.

SYKES

Take a hike.

Sykes gets a whiff of the derelict's breath as the light

changes and the sedan pulls away, leaving him in the

street. Sykes grimaces at the smell.

SYKES

Why's it have to be sour milk that

these guys get wasted on? What the

hell's wrong with Jack Daniels, or

Thunderbird for chrissakes?

(beat; disgusted)

Slagtown. Shit...

-- Aliens hanging around outside their homes.

-- Alien hookers plying their trade.

SYKES

Hope their plumbing's the same.

TUGGLE

It is.

(and Sykes gives him

a look)

-- A Newcomer lowrider pulls up beside the slug-mobile.

-- An alien couple exit a theater playing "Terminator

III".

-- An alien wig shop.

ANGLE

TITLES END, and we start to PULL BACK into the slug-mobile

and HEAR:

TUGGLE (O.S.)

So you gonna go, or you not gonna

go?

INT. SLUG-MOBILE - NIGHT

The dashboard is littered with fast-food detritus and two

coffees in styrofoam cups making fog circles on the

windshield. A hand picks up one of the coffees and we

FOLLOW IT to a face, a forty-year-old cop face that's seen

some wear and tear -- behind the wheel is MATT SYKES.

Beside him is his partner of nine years, BILL TUGGLE.

Tuggle expertly munches on a slice of pizza as he talks.

SYKES

How can I go?

TUGGLE

Put on your wash-and-wear suit and

your clip-on tie, have your landlady

tie your shoes for you, and show up

at the church. Simple.

(beat)

Me and Carol are going.

SYKES

What?

TUGGLE

Hey, look -- we've known Kristin

since... since she was conceived in

that cabin up in Big Bear.

Remember? You and Edie banged the

wall so hard, me and Carol were

picking plaster out of our hair for

a week...

SYKES

Goddammit, Tug -- I want to see

Kristin get married, okay? But--

TUGGLE

But you're bummed because your ex

and her new husband are paying for

the whole thing.

SYKES

Shit, if Kristin had to get married

where I could afford it, we'd be

holding the reception at Buddy's

Burgers.

Sykes stares out the window, wallowing in his pissed-off

mood. Then he spots something that twinges his street-cop

radar.

SYKES

Uh-oh... Check it out.

THROUGH THE WINDOW Tuggle sees what Sykes sees: two ALIENS

in long coats moving down the sidewalk, entering a mom-

and-pop mini-mart on the corner. One of them wears dark

glasses and a red bandana (KIPLING): the other has on a

black vinyl raincoat.

SYKES

Does that look at all suspicious to

you?

TUGGLE

Whatever gave you that idea?

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Sykes continues up a quarter of a block, pulls to the curb

among other parked cars.

INT. SEDAN - NIGHT

Sykes is already pulling his gun. Tuggle quickly reaches

for the radio in the glovebox.

TUGGLE

This is one-Henry-seven, we've got a

possible two-eleven in progress at

Porter's Mini-Mart, corner of Court

and Alvarado. Requesting backup.

Impulsive Sykes is already opening his door and climbing

out.

SYKES

Let's do it, partner.

Tuggle drops the radio mike and follows Sykes as the Radio

Dispatcher confirms the call.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

The two cops, guns in hand, move along the row of parked

cars across the street from the mini-mart. Through the

store window they see the old alien PROPRIETOR behind the

counter. His eyes go wide as Kipling whips back his coat

and yanks out a short combat pump-shotgun and aims it

right at him. The Raincoat alien pulls an identical gun

and covers the door.

Sykes and Tuggle react to the firepower inside.

SYKES

You got your vest?

TUGGLE

Of course. Right in the trunk of

the car.

SYKES

Yeah, that's comforting. Mine, too.

Through the store window the robbery continues in

pantomime. Kipling gestures viciously with the shotgun,

yelling orders in the alien language. The Proprietor is

quickly filling a paper bag with cash from the register.

The PROPRIETOR'S WIFE, a middle-aged alien woman, stands

in the doorway from the back, frozen in fear. The

Raincoat alien dances from foot to foot, antsy, wired.

Sykes and Tuggle crouch at the car directly across the

street from the store entrance.

TUGGLE

Watch the driver. I'm going for a

better angle on the door.

SYKES

I got him. Don't get pinned.

Tuggle leaves the cover provided by the car, runs cater-

corner across the intersection.

Through the store window Sykes sees Kipling grab the bag

of cash, shove it in his coat pocket. Bills fall out, but

he doesn't care. Then, without warning, Kipling whips up

the twelve gauge and blows a hole in the Proprietor's

chest! The Proprietor slams back against the shelves,

slides to the floor. Kipling leans over the counter and

FIRES another round into the Proprietor.

SYKES

(under his breath)

Aw, shit.

Tuggle is almost across the street when he hears the

shots.

The human DRIVER of the getaway car (parked at the curb a

few doors down from the mini-mart) glances up, spots

Tuggle. He leans on the HORN, reaches for a machine

pistol on the seat next to him.

INT. MINI-MART - NIGHT

Kipling and Raincoat alien react to the horn honk. They

spot Tuggle through the store window and open fire --

BLASTING THROUGH THE GLASS.

A civilian car enters the intersection. The engine is hit

by shotgun fire, and the car skids to a stop in the

intersection, steam rising from the radiator.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Tuggle dives behind a lamp post.

The Driver is out of the car now, brings up the machine

pistol to fire at Tuggle. Sykes sees this and opens fire

at the Driver. The Driver turns and fires at Sykes.

Sykes ducks down, and the car he's hiding behind is

sprayed with bullets.

A forty-foot moving van pulls down the street between

Sykes and the Driver. Once the truck is past, Sykes is

standing behind the bullet-riddled car, gun ready. He

rapid-fires -- creaming the human Driver.

Tuggle is pinned down behind the thin lamp post by the

shotgun fire from Kipling and Raincoat alien.

SYKES

Get outta there!

TUGGLE

I can't! Do you mind!

SYKES

I'll cover you! Get outta there!!

Sykes rises and runs across the street toward the getaway

car, firing toward the store as he goes.

Kipling and Raincoat dodge behind cover.

Tuggle seizes the opportunity, jumps from behind the lamp

post and runs to the stalled civilian car. He slides

across the hood and drops behind the car for cover.

Tuggle slowly pokes his head up to peer through the car

window. His gaze is met by the face of the OLD MAN driver

who is still inside the car.

OLD MAN

Can I get out now?

TUGGLE

Move it!

Sykes doesn't have a clear firing line on the aliens in

the store. As he considers his next move--

Tuggle fires at the two aliens. They return fire and he

slides down to safety behind the car. Or so he thinks.

Glass rains down on him as the car windows are cremated by

the shotgun blasts. He flinches as another blast hits the

car. He looks over. There's a big exit hole in the

fender beside him. THE SHOT WENT RIGHT THROUGH THE CAR.

Another exit hole is BLASTED, inches from his shoulder.

Panicked, he scrambles along the side of the car -- BLASTS

and exit holes following him until he reaches the front of

the car. He has nowhere left to go and--

-- a BLAST comes through the car and catches him squarely

in the chest throwing him back onto the street.

Sykes' head jerks around -- in time to see his partner of

nine years blown away.

Kipling keeps firing in Tuggle's direction until his

shotgun CLICKS empty.

INT. MINI-MART - NIGHT

Kipling grabs Raincoat and throws him toward the back exit

of the store. The shotgun falls from Raincoat's hands.

The two of them run out the back.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Sykes runs to Tuggle's spread-eagled body. One glance is

enough. Nobody ever looked deader.

SYKES

Aw shit, Tug, Jesus! Goddamn it!

He stares, shocked and incredulous. He can't find a way

to think or feel about this. Then we see him going crazy

right before our eyes, the rage revving. He takes off

toward the store as SIRENS are HEARD rapidly approaching

in background.

INT. MINI-MART - NIGHT

Sykes moves through like a locomotive skidding on broken

glass, bangs through the exit.

EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT

Sykes catches sight of the two aliens just as they round

the corner at the far end of the alley. He takes off,

quickly cranking up to full speed.

EXT. BACK STREET - NIGHT

Sykes rounds the corner. Doesn't see them anymore. He

slows... moves along this street with some caution. Lots

of shadows, lots of hiding places. Sykes HEARS a NOISE,

looks up... just in time to see Raincoat on a high, huge

billboard. He cuts loose with the shotgun. Sykes dives.

Huge chunks of the crate he dives behind fly off into the

night. Sykes, on his belly, scrambles deeper among the

crates.

Raincoat's shotgun CLICKS empty now. He drops it, swings

down off the fire escape, runs off.

Sykes is up again in a flash, pounding after him.

EXT. TUNNEL STREET - NIGHT

Sykes rounds this second corner, races down the street.

The only route they could've taken is through a tunnel up

ahead. Sykes approaches the tunnel, all senses wide open.

INT. TUNNEL - NIGHT

The murkiness of the tunnel engulfs him as he moves

through the mouth. He tries to control his breathing so

he can hear. The only SOUND is his own shoes scuffing

along the asphalt.

Then he HEARS -- another set of FOOTSTEPS. Rapid

footsteps, coming toward him, ECHOING. He can't tell from

which direction! He spins, just as a LARGE SHAPE lunges

for him with an alien CRY.

It's the wired Raincoat alien. Sykes gets his gun up just

in time and FIRES -- once, twice, three times. Raincoat

alien is knocked backwards to the wet asphalt by the

blasts. Sykes approaches the body slowly. With an

inhuman ROAR, the alien snaps forward, lunging at Sykes

with outstretched arms. Sykes jumps back, startled, and

FIRES twice more at the pale figure. Raincoat goes down

and stays down.

Sykes relaxes for the briefest moment. Then he HEARS

it... a distinctive CLICKING SOUND, metal on metal. Sykes

looks up and -- Kipling drops down on him from directly

above! Sykes goes down in a heap. He's managed to hold

onto the gun and as Kipling comes for him, he swings the

gun hand around. Kipling sees it, lashes out, slamming

the gun from Sykes' hand. Sykes tries to get to his feet,

but the alien grabs him and flings him down the tunnel.

A SIREN is HEARD approaching in background.

Kipling moves in to deliver the coup de grace. As he

draws near, Sykes HEARS that distinctive CLICKING SOUND

again.

SYKES' P.O.V.

Though his vision is BLURRED, Sykes still gets a good look

at an exotic silver bracelet on the alien's wrist. The

strands of this bracelet are what make the CLINKING NOISE.

ANGLE

The alien rears back, and as he does, the approaching

SIREN suddenly WAILS louder as a backup patrol car swings

onto the street heading this way. Kipling sees this and

leaves Sykes, running off down the dark tunnel.

ON SYKES

dazed, struggling to rise. WE HEAR running FOOTSTEPS

approaching. Sykes turns, his eyes wild and unfocused.

SYKES' P.O.V.

An OUT-OF-FOCUS ALIEN FACE looming over him.

ANGLE

Sykes whips around in a roundhouse swing with all his

weight on it, pistoning his fist straight into the alien

face. The alien, caught by surprise and off balance,

sprawls backward OUT OF FRAME. Sykes is grabbed by a

human uniformed cop, as he tries to swing again.

HUMAN COP

Whoa, whoa... hold it. Take it easy.

(to alien on the

ground)

You okay?

Sykes stops struggling, and his eyes focus. He looks at

the alien he just decked, sprawled on his ass ten feet

away. The alien is a uniformed cop... his name is JETSON.

JETSON

I am all right.

He gets up. A trickle of purple blood runs from his nose.

HUMAN COP

I better call in.

He moves off. Jetson moves toward Sykes and the Raincoat

alien's body. Sykes tenses, thinking Jetson might

retaliate in some way. But Jetson simply steps past him

to kneel beside the dead alien. He checks for a pulse on

the underside of the dead alien's upper arm. Nothing.

Sykes is holding his punching hand in obvious pain. He

struggles to rise. Jetson gets an arm around him to help

him up.

JETSON

Your hand will require attention.

Sykes roughly jerks himself free of Jetson's grip.

SYKES

Get the hell away from me! I don't

need your goddamn help.

He almost loses his balance and has to steady himself

against the tunnel wall. Sykes leans there, the picture

of impotent rage and frustration. Jetson looks at him,

with that slight inquisitive expression aliens exhibit

when trying to understand human nature.

EXT. MINI-MART - NIGHT

OPEN on Tuggle's body, as the body bag is zipped up over

his face, and the litter is lifted into the back of the

Coroner's wagon.

WIDEN to reveal Sykes, standing nearby, watching. The

Wagon pulls out, and Sykes turns, moving past all the LAPD

black-and-whites and forensics wagons, and COPS (two of

them aliens) and DETECTIVES, and RUBBERNECKERS (some

alien). He moves into:

INT. MINI-MART - NIGHT

The CRIME SCENE TEAM is checking for prints, digging slugs

out of the wall, photographing everything. Several

UNIFORMED COPS mill around. Sykes moves aimlessly around

the room like a stranger at a party.

The Proprietor's Wife stands near the body in a strange

rigid posture, a thin, mournful KEENING SOUND coming from

her lips. A harried female uniformed cop is trying to get

her away from the body, but can't get her to budge.

MINKLER, a ballistics guy, is tagging the pump-shotgun the

Raincoat alien dropped here. NATUZZI, a mean-looking

veteran uniform cop is with him.

NATUZZI