ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Eagle Cliff, by R.M. BallantyneThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use it underthe terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: The Eagle CliffAuthor: R.M. BallantyneRelease Date: November 6, 2007 [EBook #23373]Language: English***START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EAGLE CLIFF ***Produced by Nick Hodson of London, EnglandThe Eagle Cliff, by R.M.Ballantyne.________________________________________________________________________This is a truly delightful book by this prolific author.  I know of noother of his books that leaves so many images inthe mind, so freshafter many a year.  The scene starts with a young man cycling on hispenny-farthing towards London.  On the way he has an accident, knockingdown an elderly lady, but fleeing the scene when he seesa policemancoming.  But when he gets home he finds a telegram informing him thathis friends will be departing very soon in a yacht, to visit theislands on the North-West of Britain, so he joins them.Unfortunately thereis a fog and the yacht is damaged but all the youngmen and their crew manage to get ashore, finding themselves in theneighbourhood of a large house, the residence of a gentleman and hisfamily.  They are invited tostay there as his guests, and it is atthis point that the adventures begin, involving fishing, shooting,bird-watching, sailing and so forth.  There is a charming young ladyalso staying in the house, and deploying her hobbyof painting.  Ourhero falls in love with her, but is very much taken aback when she isjoined by her mother, who turns out to be none other than the elderlylady he had knocked down back in London.  Even moredisastrous was thefire that destroyed the house.  This is a brilliant book, and you willlove it.As a footnote you may be surprised that one of the children is calledJunkie.  This certainly does not mean that same as it doestoday:instead it is a nickname given to a favourite boy-child, and you willfind several examples of this in Ballantyne'sbooks.________________________________________________________________________THE EAGLE CLIFF, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE.CHAPTER ONE.BEGINS THE TALE--NATURALLY.From the earliest records ofhistory we learn that man has ever beenenvious of the birds, and of all other winged creatures.  He has longedand striven to fly.  He has also signally failed to do so.We say "failed" advisedly, because his variousattempts in thatdirection have usually resulted in disappointment and broken bones.  Asto balloons, we do not admit that they fly any more than do ships;balloons merely float and glide, when not otherwise engaged intumbling,collapsing, and bursting.This being so, we draw attention to the fact that the nearest approachwe have yet made to the sensation of flying is that achieved by rushingdown a long, smooth, steep hill-road on awell-oiled and perfectball-bearings bicycle!  Skating cannot compare with this, for thatrequires exertion; bicycling down hill requires none.  Hunting cannot,no matter how splendid the mount, for that implies a certainelement ofbumping, which, however pleasant in itself, is not suggestive of thesmooth swift act of flying.We introduce this subject merely because thoughts somewhat similar tothose which we have so inadequatelyexpressed were burning in the brainof a handsome and joyful young man one summer morning not long ago, as,with legs over the handles, he flashed--if he did not actually fly--downone of our Middlesex hills on hisway to London.Urgent haste was in every look and motion of that young man's fine eyesand lithe body.  He would have bought wings at any price had that beenpossible; but, none being yet in the market, he made themost of hiswheel--a fifty-eight inch one, by the way, for the young man's legs werelong, as well as strong.Arrived at the bottom of the hill the hilarious youth put his feet tothe treadles, and drove the machinevigorously up the opposite slope.It was steep, but he was powerful.  He breathed hard, no doubt, but henever flagged until he gained the next summit.  A shout burst from hislips as he rolled along the level top, forthere, about ten miles off,lay the great city, glittering in the sunshine, and with only anamber-tinted canopy of its usual smoke above it.Among the tall elms and in the flowering hedgerows between which heswept,innumerable birds warbled or twittered their astonishment that hecould fly with such heedless rapidity through that beautiful country,and make for the dismal town in such magnificent weather.  One aspiringlarkoverhead seemed to repeat, with persistent intensity, its trill ofself gratulation that it had not been born a man.  Even the cattleappeared to regard the youth as a sort of ornithological curiosity, forthe sentiment, "Well,you are a goose!" was clearly written on theirmild faces as he flew past them.Over the hill-top he went--twelve miles an hour at the least--until hereached the slope on the other side; then down he rushed again,drivingat the first part of the descent like an insane steam-engine, till thepace must have increased to twenty miles, at which point, the whirl ofthe wheel becoming too rapid, he was obliged once more to rest his legsonthe handles, and take to repose, contemplation, and wiping his heatedbrow--equivalent this, we might say, to the floating descent of thesea-mew.  Of course the period of rest was of brief duration, for,although the hillwas a long slope, with many a glimpse of lovelinessbetween the trees, the time occupied in its flight was short, and, atthe bottom a rustic bridge, with an old inn and a thatched hamlet, withan awkwardly sharp turn inthe road beyond it, called for wary andintelligent guidance of this lightning express.Swiftly but safely to the foot of the hill went John Barret (that wasthe youth's name), at ever-increasing speed, and without check; fornoone seemed to be moving about in the quiet hamlet, and the old Englishinn had apparently fallen asleep.A delicious undulating swoop at the bottom indicates the crossing of thebridge.  A flash, and the inn is inrear.  The hamlet displays no signof life, nevertheless Barret is cautious.  He lays a finger on the brakeand touches the bell.  He is half-way through the hamlet and all goeswell; still no sign of life except--yes, thisso-called proof of everyrule is always forthcoming, except that there is the sudden appearanceof one stately cock.  This is followed immediately by its sudden andunstately disappearance.  A kitten also emerges fromsomewhere, glares,arches, fuffs, becomes indescribable, and--is not!  Two or threechildren turn up and gape, but do not recover in time to insult, or toincrease the dangers of the awkward turn in the road which is nowathand.Barret looks thoughtful.  Must the pace be checked here?  The road isopen and visible.  It is bordered by grass banks and ditches on eitherside.  He rushes close to the left bank and, careering gracefully totheright like an Algerine felucca in a white squall, dares the laws ofgravitation and centrifugal force to the utmost limitation, anddescribes a magnificent segment of a great circle.  Almost before youcan wink he isstraight again, and pegging along with irresistiblepertinacity.Just beyond the hamlet a suburban lady is encountered, with claspedhands and beseeching eyes, for a loose hairy bundle, animated by thespirit of a dog,stands in the middle of the road, bidding defiance tothe entire universe!  The hairy bundle loses its head all at once,likewise its heart: it has not spirit left even to get out of the way.A momentary lean of the bicycle firstto the left and then to the rightdescribes what artists call "the line of beauty," in a bight of whichthe bundle remains behind, crushed in spirit, but unhurt in body.At the bottom of the next hill a small roadside inn greetsour cyclist.That which cocks, kittens, dangers, and dogs could not effect, the innaccomplishes.  He "slows."  In front of the door he describes an airycirclet, dismounting while yet in motion, leans the lightningexpressagainst the wall, and enters.  What! does that vigorous, handsome,powerful fellow, in the flush of early manhood, drink?  Ay, truly hedoes."Glass of bitter, sir?" asks the exuberant landlord."Ginger," says theyoung man, pointing significantly to a bit of blueribbon in his button-hole."Come far to-day, sir?" asks the host, as he pours out the liquid."Fifty miles--rather more," says Barret, setting down the glass."Fine weather,sir, for bicycling," says the landlord, sweeping in thecoppers."Very; good-day."Before that cheery "Good-day" had ceased to affect the publican's brainBarret was again spinning along the road to London.It was the roadon which the mail coaches of former days used to whirl,to the merry music of bugle, wheel, and whip, along which so many menand women had plodded in days gone by, in search of fame and fortune andhappiness:some, to find these in a greater or less degree, with much ofthe tinsel rubbed off, others, to find none of them, but insteadthereof, wreck and ruin in the mighty human whirlpool; and not a few todiscover the fact thathappiness does not depend either on fortune orfame, but on spiritual harmony with God in Jesus Christ.Pedestrians there still were on that road, bound for the same goal, and,doubtless, with similar aims; but mail andother coaches had been drivenfrom the scene.Barret had the broad road pretty much to himself.Quickly he ran into the suburban districts, and here his urgent hastehad to be restrained a little."What if I am too late!" hethought, and almost involuntarily put on aspurt.Soon he entered the crowded thoroughfares, and was compelled to curbboth steed and spirit.  Passing through one of the less-frequentedstreets in the neighbourhood ofFinchley Road, he ventured to give therein to his willing charger.But here Fortune ceased to smile--and Fortune was to be commended forher severity.Barret, although kind, courteous, manly, sensitive, andreasonablycareful, was not just what he ought to have been.  Although a hero, hewas not perfect.  He committed the unpardonable sin of turning a streetcorner sharply!  A thin little old lady crossed the road at thesameidentical moment, slowly.  They met!  Who can describe that meeting?Not the writer, for he did not see it; more's the pity!  Very few peoplesaw it, for it was a quiet corner.  The parties concerned cannot be saidtohave seen, though they felt it.  Both went down.  It was awful,really, to see a feeble old lady struggling with an athlete and abicycle!Two little street boys, and a ragged girl appeared as if by magic.  Theyalwaysdo!"Oh!  I say!  Ain't he bin and squashed 'er?"Such was the remark of one of the boys."Pancakes is plump to 'er," was the observation of the other.The ragged girl said nothing, but looked unspeakable things.Burningwith shame, trembling with anxiety, covered with dust andconsiderably bruised, Barret sprang up, left his fallen steed, and,raising the little old lady with great tenderness in his arms, sat heron the pavement with herback against the railings, while he poured outabject apologies and earnest inquiries.Strange to say the old lady was not hurt in the least--only a good dealshaken and very indignant.Stranger still, a policeman suddenlyappeared in the distance.  At thesame time a sweep, a postman, and a servant girl joined the group.Young Barret, as we have said, was sensitive.  To become the object andcentre of a crowd in such circumstances wasoverwhelming.  A climax wasput to his confusion, when one of the street arabs, observing thepoliceman, suddenly exclaimed:--"Oh!  I say, 'ere's a bobby!  What a lark.  Won't you be 'ad up beforethe beaks?  It'll be acase o' murder.""No, it won't," retorted the other boy; "it'll be a case o' manslaughteran' attempted suicide jined."Barret started up, allowing the servant maid to take his place, and sawthe approachingconstable.  Visions of detention, publicity, trial,conviction, condemnation, swam before him."A reg'lar Krismas panty-mime for nuffin'!" remarked the ragged girl,breaking silence for the first time.Scarcely knowing whathe did, Barret leaped towards his bicycle, set itup, vaulted into the saddle, as he well knew how, and was safely out ofsight in a few seconds.Yet not altogether safe.  A guilty conscience pursued, overtook, and satuponhim.  Shame and confusion overwhelmed him.  Up to that date he hadbeen honourable, upright, straightforward; as far as the world'sestimation went, irreproachable.  Now, in his own estimation, he wasmean, false,underhand, sneaking!But he did not give way to despair.  He was a true hero, else we wouldnot have had anything to write about him.  Suddenly he slowed, frowned,compressed his lips, described a complete circle--inspite of afurniture van that came in his way--and deliberately went back to thespot where the accident had occurred; but there was no little lady to beseen.  She had been conveyed away, the policeman was gone, thelittleboys were gone, the ragged girl, sweep, postman, and servant maid--allwere gone, "like the baseless fabric of a vision," leaving only newfaces and strangers behind to wonder what accident and thin old ladytheexcited youth was asking about--so evanescent are the incidents thatoccur; and so busily pre-occupied are the human torrents that rush inthe streets of London!The youth turned sadly from the spot and continuedhis journey at aslower pace.  As he went along, the thought that the old lady might havereceived internal injuries, and would die, pressed heavily upon him:Thus, he might actually be a murderer, at the best aman-slaughterer,without knowing it, and would carry in his bosom a dreadful secret, anda terrible uncertainty, to the end of his life!Of course he could go to that great focus of police energy--ScotlandYard--and givehimself up; but on second thoughts he did not quite seehis way to that.  However, he would watch the daily papers closely.That evening, in a frame of mind very different from the mentalcondition, in which he had setout on his sixty miles' ride in theafternoon, John Barret presented himself to his friend and oldschoolfellow, Bob Mabberly."You're a good fellow, Barret; I knew you would come; but you look warm.Have you beenrunning?" asked Mabberly, opening the door of his lodgingto his friend.  "Come in: I have news for you.  Giles Jackman has agreedto go.  Isn't that a comfort? for, besides his rare and valuablesporting qualities, he ismore than half a doctor, which will beimportant, you know, if any of us should get ill or come to grief.  Sitdown and we'll talk it over."Now, it was a telegram from Bob Mabberly which led John Barret tosuddenlyundertake a sixty miles' ride that day, and which was thus theindirect cause of the little old lady being run down.  The telegram ranas follows:--"Come instanter.  As you are.  Clothes unimportant.  Yacht engaged.Crewalso.  Sail, without fail, Thursday.  Plenty more to say when wemeet.""Now, you see, Bob, with your usual want of precision, or care, or somesuch quality--""Stop, Barret.  Do be more precise in the use oflanguage.  How can thewant of a thing be a _quality_?""You are right, Bob.  Let me say, then, that with your usual unprecisionand carelessness you sent me a telegram, which could not reach me tilllate on Wednesdaynight, after all trains were gone, telling me that yousail, without fail, on Thursday, but leaving me to guess whether youmeant Thursday morning or evening.""How stupid!  My dear fellow, I forgot that!""Just so.  Well tomake sure of losing no time, instead of coming hereby trains, which, as you know, are very awkward and slow in ourneighbourhood, besides necessitating long waits and several changes, Ijust packed my portmanteau,gun, rods, etcetera, and gave directions tohave them forwarded here by the first morning train, then took a fewwinks of sleep, and at the first glimmer of daylight mounted my wheeland set off across country as straightas country roads would permitof--and--here I am.""True, Barret, and in good time for tea too.  We don't sail tillmorning, for the tide does not serve till six o'clock, so that will giveus plenty of time to put the finishingtouches to our plans, allow yourthings to arrive, and permit of our making--or, rather, renewing--ouracquaintance with Giles Jackman.  You remember him, don't you?""Yes, faintly.  He was a broad, sturdy,good-humoured, reckless, littleboy when I last saw him at old Blatherby's school.""Just so.  Your portrait is correct.  I saw him last month, after a goodmany years' interval, and he is exactly what he was, butconsiderablyexaggerated at every point.  He is not, indeed, a little, but a middlesized man now; as good-humoured as ever; much more reckless; sturdierand broader a great deal, with an amount of hair about his lip,chin,and head generally that would suffice to fit out three or four averagemen.  He has been in India--in the Woods and Forests Department, orsomething of that sort--and has killed tigers, elephants, and such-likebythe hundred, they say; but I've met him only once or twice, and hedon't speak much about his own doings.  He is home on sick-leave justnow.""Sick-leave!  Will he be fit to go with us?" asked Barret, doubtfully."Fit!"cried Mabberly.  "Ay, much more fit than you are, strong andvigorous though you be, for the voyage home has not only cured him; ithas added superabundant health.  Voyages always do to sickAnglo-Indians, don't youknow?  However ill a man may be in India, allhe has to do is to obtain leave of absence and get on board of a shiphomeward bound, and straightway health, rushing in upon him like ariver, sends him home more thancured.  So now our party is made up,yacht victualled, anchor tripped; and--`all's well that ends well.'""But all is not ended, Bob.  Things have only begun, and, as regardsmyself, they have begun disastrously," saidBarret, who thereuponrelated the incident of the little old lady being run down."My dear fellow," cried Mabberly, laughing, "excuse me, don't imagine meindifferent to the sufferings of the poor old thing; but do youreallysuppose that one who was tough enough, after such a collision, to sit upat all, with or without the support of the railings, and give way toindignant abuse--""Not abuse, Bob, indignant looks and sentiments; shewas too thorough alady to think of abuse--""Well, well; call it what you please; but you may depend upon it thatshe is not much hurt, and you will hear nothing more about the matter.""That's it!  That's the very thingthat I dread," returned Barret,anxiously.  "To go through life with the possibility that I may be anuncondemned and unhung murderer is terrible to think of.  Then I can'tget over the meanness of my running away sosuddenly.  If any one hadsaid I was capable of such conduct I should have laughed at him.  Yethave I lived to do it--contemptibly--in cold blood.""Contemptibly it may have been, but not in cold blood, for did you notsayyou were roused to a state of frenzied alarm at the sight of thebobby? and assuredly, although unhung as yet, you are not uncondemned,if self-condemnation counts for anything.  Come, don't take such adespondingview of the matter.  We shall see the whole affair in themorning papers before sailing, with a report of the old lady's name andcondition--I mean condition of health--as well as your unmanly flight,without leaving yourcard; so you'll be able to start with an easy--Ha!a cab! yes, it's Jackman.  I know his manservant," said Mabberly, as helooked out at the window.Another moment and a broad-chested man, of about five-and-twenty,with abronzed face--as far as hair left it visible--a pair of merry blue eyes,and a hearty manner, was grasping his old schoolfellows by the hand, andendeavouring to trace the likeness in John Barret to the quiet littleboywhom he used to help with his tasks many years before."Man, who would have thought you could have grown into such a greatlong-legged fellow?" he said stepping back to take a more perfect lookat his friend, whoreturned the compliment by asking who could haveimagined that he would have turned into a Zambezian gorilla."Where'll I put it, sor?" demanded a voice of metallic bassness in thedoorway."Down there--anywhere,Quin," said Jackman turning quickly; "and be offas fast as you can to see after that rifle and cartridges.""Yes, sor," returned the owner of the bass voice, putting down a smallportmanteau, straightening himself,touching his forehead with amilitary salute, and stalking away solemnly."I say, Giles, it's not often one comes across a zoological specimenlike that.  Where did you pick him up?" asked Mabberly."In the woods andforests of course," said Jackman, "where I have pickedup everything of late--from salary to jungle fevers.  He's an oldsoldier--also on sick-leave, though he does not look like it.  He cameoriginally from the west of


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                           IT'S COMPLICATED                              Writtenby                             Nancy Meyers     FADE IN:1   EXT. BEACH HOUSE - MONTECITO, CALIFORNIA - DAY                1        Alate afternoon sky, a red tile roof and the Santa Barbara    coast line frame this party of old friends. A trio plays               Brazilian music as guests carry drinks and nibble ondessert.      2   CLOSE - ON A FOURSOME OF FRIENDS                              2    The Couple who live in this house, SALLY AND TED, drink    champagne as they chat with their closestfriends, JANE AND            JAKE.    JANE is mid-fifties and has embraced that fact. She knows 50    is not the new 40 and because of that, she is still described    by all who know her as beautiful.Everything about this    woman's appearance screams "solid."    The years have been good to JAKE. He's never lost his looks,    his killer smile, or his ability to charm. He lifts his    glass ofchampagne.                                                                         JAKE               Happy happy happy...                         JANE                   (reminding him)               --Anniversary.    Jake pauses, wryly turns to Jane, making her smile.                         JAKE               Some things neverchange.                            SALLY               Thank God.                         JANE               I thought maybe you were drifting.                         TED               Hewas pausing.                         JAKE               Exactly....                   (sighs, raising his glass)               Happy... Anniversary. You two have               led an extraordinarilyblessed               life.                         (MORE)                                                          2.                    JAKE(cont'd)          As long as I've known you both,          you've always managed to somehowdo          everything entirely right.                    JANE          -- That's so true.                    JAKE          But, honestly, how can it be thirty          years!?!   When did we do thattrip          to Spain?              (looks to Jane)          It was for both of our what..?                    JANE          -- Fifteenth anniversaries.                    JAKE          God, that was agreat trip...The Two Women exchange a quick look when a tall, ADORABLE 21    YEAR OLD BOY joins the group, holding a bottle of beer. Thisis OLIVER, Sally and Ted's son. All four light up as Oliverputs hisarm around his Mom.                    JANE          Ollie, how was graduation?                    OLIVER          It was fantastic. I can't believe          I'm not in school anymore.When's          Luke's graduation?                       JAKE          Next week.                    JANE              (correcting him)          It's in threedays!                     JAKE          Sorry!   I mean this week.                    TED          Are the girls going?                    JANE          They can'twait.                                      Jane glances across the party and sees AGNESS, A FREE           SPIRITED PRETTY WOMAN in her thirties, wearing a sarong over    a bathing suit and walking directly toward them. Shecarries    a slice of cake. Jane becomes instantly distracted and          uncomfortable.                                                      3.                    OLIVER          How long isLuke home before he has          to go back for work?                    JANE          -- Only a week...                                                    SALLY                                            Aw, that'sit?                                                       JANE          I know, I hate it. Well...              (Agness joins the group,                                    standing next to Jake)                                Congratsagain...              (puts down her champagne)          Great party...                    OLIVER          You're leaving?                    JANE          Yeah, I have some              (Agness handsJake a piece               of cake. Jane works hard               at not appearing               flustered)          -- stuff I have to get done tonight          for work...              (to Jake & Agness)          I'll see you two in NewYork.                    AGNESS          Absolutely. Lookin' forward to it.                      JANE          Good.    Well....                    AGNESS          -- Jane, what areyou wearing to                           the graduation?                    JANE          Oh, a suit or dress, probably a          suit.                      AGNESS          Fancy.    Okay.Janesmiles tightly, raises her eyebrows to Sally.                                                        4.                    JAKE          See you there, Janey.    Where are          you stayingagain?                    JANE          We're at The Park Regent. You said                           you were at The Four Seasons,                                right?                    JAKE          I don'tknow.              (to Agness)          Where are we?                    AGNESS          We're at The Park Regent too.                                             JANE              (hates    this)          Oh.Good.     That'll be convenient,          actually.     Okay, so, see you soon..                           (waves    awkwardly)                    SALLY          -- I'll walk you out.As they WALK AWAY, theyHEAR:                    AGNESS          So, Ted, do you think you can help          us get Pedro into El Montecito for          kindergarten?ANGLE - JANE AND SALLY - WALKING INTOHOUSE                    SALLY              (laughs)          I thought it was sweet how well you          and Jake were getting along. Felt          like oldtimes.                    JANE          Yeah, well, we know how to do this          by now. It has been ten years.                                         SALLY          That's crazy.Jane hugs Sallygood bye, her eyes landing on Agness         affectionately rubbing Jake's back.                                                                                5.    ANGLE - THEFRONT DOOR    as it closes after Jane.    ON JAKE - AS HE TURNS BACK    and sees Jane is gone.                                                      CUTTO:3   TWENTY-THREE YEAR OLD GABBY                                   3        in jeans and a tank top CARRYING A CARTON OF BOOKS, A YOGA    MAT AND A SMALL LAMP. Gabby is Janeand Jake's middle child.           But unlike most middle children, this one has never suffered    from being ignored. Not a possibility with Jane as your    mother. We are:    EXT. JANE'S HOUSE -LATE DAY    The house is modest and charming and sits on a few acres in    the lush green hills of Santa Barbara. Neat rows of    vegetables dot the landscape.    Gabby arrives at her alreadypacked Prius, where her OLDER             SISTER, LAUREN, 26, is trying to fit everything into the    trunk. Lauren is more conservatively dressed than Gabby and            has an air of maturity abouther.                        LAUREN              Gabby, stop...you're never going to                                    fit all this in... you can come                                        back for the resttomorrow.                        GABBY                                                        I can't come back t---    Gabby looks up to see HARLEY, LAUREN'S FIANCE, in a T-shirt            and over-the-kneegym shorts, lugging a huge suitcase down    the front path, a duffel strapped across his chest.                                        GABBY                                                        Oh, God...that's all myclothes.                        HARLEY                  (sets the suitcase down as                   he sees an SUV heading to                   thehouse)                        (MORE)                                                           6.                    HARLEY(cont'd)          Okay, your Mom is home. She'll                                  figure this out.TheSUV pulls to a stop, Jane gets out. Gabby starts pulling    cartons out of her trunk to make room for her clothes.                              JANE          Gabby, you're leaving now? I                                    thoughtyou were going in the          morning?                    GABBY                                                 I know but my friends are all there          and they wanted me to cometonight.                    JANE          But honey, it's gonna get dark          soon. You can't see out the back          window. It's Saturday night.          People will be on theroad          drinking...                    LAUREN          Mom, she'll be there in a couple of          hours, she'll be fine.                    GABBY                                                 Okay, I'mleaving this stuff here.          I'll be back for it in a few days.                    JANE          Want me to drive it down in the          morning?              (Gabby'sBLACKBERRY                                              BUZZES, she laughs,                                             thumbs flying)                                             I could be there by lunch. We could          go to that big Bed, Bath,and          Beyond, buy kitchen stuff... Gabby,                             can you look up from that thing??                    GABBY                                                     (looking up)          I got it covered,Ma.              (to Harley)          Hey gangsta, help me carry these...                    HARLEY              (exhausted)          Yep....Gabby and Harley CARRY THE BOXES back into thehouse.   Jane    seems worried as she watches them.                                                                                7.                    LAUREN          Mom, are you afraidto sleep in the                               house alone?                    JANE          What are you....? No!              (Lauren looks doubtful)          -- I'm not! One of you isalways                                  moving out...                                                         (Gabby re-joins)                                              But I am wondering who I'm gonna          watch The Hillswith?                    GABBY                                                       (huge hug)          Mamacita... I'm gonna miss you.Jane hugs her back, but is aware of not hugging too


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This Script wastranscribed by AranMax at The Neverending Story Page.

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      <Pclass=MsoNormal>THE NEVERENDING       STORY<o:p></o:p>

<![if!supportEmptyParas]><![endif]> <o:p></o:p>

Based on the book by       Michael Ende<o:p></o:p>
      <Pclass=MsoNormal>Screenplay by Wolfgang       Peterson<o:p></o:p>

1984<o:p></o:p>

<![if !supportEmptyParas]><![endif]> <o:p></o:p>

<SPANstyle="FONT-FAMILY: Arial">FADE       IN:<o:p></o:p>

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      <Pclass=MsoNormal style="TEXT-INDENT: 0.5in">Limahls The Neverending Story plays as       the<o:p></o:p>

CREDITS PLAY OVER a dazzling display of some       <o:p></o:p>

great clouded storm. THE NOTHING. Great masses       of <o:p></o:p>

clouds swirl and churn and collide on the       screen.<o:p></o:p>

<SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY:


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                                                                OBSERVE ANDREPORT                                                                  Written by                                              JodyHill                                                                      FADE IN:                                                                       EXT. CAROLINA MALL -MORNING                    ONE LONG TRACKING SHOT FROM THE BACK.                    A PERVERT in a trench coat runs along the edge of the          mall. A group of OLD WOMEN iscoming toward the MAIN          ENTRANCE. The Pervert opens his trench coat and flashes          the old women. They SCREAM!                    The Pervert ducks behind the bushes and runs with the          skillof a Navy SEAL. A FAMILY is walking down the          sidewalk. The Pervert opens his trench coat and flashes          them.                    The Pervert ducks behind a dumpster. He keeps running          and seesa car driving by. The Pervert flashes the CAR.                    The Pervert takes a two-step run, sees ANOTHER LADY,          flashes her. He dives behind a car. Then pops up and          flashes ANOTHERGIRL.                    It's an all-out Pervert assault!                    The Pervert then runs across the parking lot, jumps a          fence, and darts from the property -- vanishing as          quickly as a Ninjawho just perfectly executed an          assassination.                              INT. MALL - BUSINESS OFFICES - DAY                    MARK, the Mall Manager, walks by a group of women,who               were exposed to the Pervert. They crowd around and                   complainloudly.                                                                                MARK                     Ladies, please, we're doing                                          everythingwe can to handle the                     situation. Nothing is more                                           important to us than the safety of                                   our shoppers. Now in the                                             meantime,feel free to check out                     some of our wonderful back-to-                     school sales. Excuse me for a                                        minute.                    Mark walks down the hallway that houses all ofthe                   business affair offices. He stops at the RECEPTIONIST'S              desk.                                                                                MARK                     Have you seen Ronnie?                                                                (CONTINUED)                                                                             2.                    CONTINUED:                                               RECEPTIONIST                       I haven't seen him all morning.                    The Mall Manager quickly walks off.    On the way, he                    passes aJANITOR.                                                                                MARK                       Ramon, have you seenRonnie?                                               JANITOR                       No, senor.                                                                                The Mall Manager keepswalking.                              INT. SECURITY OFFICE - DAY                    The Mall Manager comes into the surveillance room. It's          a small office with monitors that show thedifferent          security cameras around the mall. DENNIS, a Mall          Security guard with sunglasses who will not utter a word          ever, turns around in thechair.                                               MARK                       Where is Ronnie?                                                      Dennisshrugs.                                                                   CUT TO:                              INT. GARAGE - DAY                    Blackness. White shafts of lightsporadically shoot          through the dark and we see IMAGES. A GIANT FLASHLIGHT          is inserted into a UTILITY BELT. MACE is inserted in the          other side. A WALKIE-TALKIE is turned on. A TASERis          sparked. MIRRORED SUNGLASSES are pushed over the nose.                    A garage door raises and bright light spills in...                              EXT. GARAGE -DAY                    A garage door opens slowly and reveals a souped-up ORANGE          GOLF CART. There's a siren on top that spins around.          The man driving is RONNIE BARNHARDT (28), a stockymall          security guard whose expression reads all business.          Ronnie pulls out of the garage...                    SUPERIMPOSE:    OBSERVE ANDREPORT                                                                         3.                    EXT. MALL - DAY                    HEAVY METAL MUSIC. A group of anarchist SKATERSrages          through the mall parking lot tearing up everything they          see. A couple of them smoke cigarettes. One skater          grinds over a bench. One kid ollies onto the hood of a          car. Another slams intoan old man and knocks him over.                    Meanwhile, Ronnie sits in his golf cart -- waiting. He          looks eerily like Mel Gibson at the beginning of Mad Max.                    The skaters ride pasta set of construction cones. One          skater picks up the cone and tosses it across the parking          lot.                    The skaters soar past Ronnie, who flips on the silent          orange siren and giveschase.                    As the skaters ride through the parking lot, Ronnie pulls          up and drives alongside of them.                                            RONNIE                            (cop authorityvoice)                    Pull over to the sidewalk, NOW!                    STEVIE, the leader of the skaters, yells back.                                            STEVIE                    Fuck off, Ronnie, it's justa                                          parking lot.                                                                                RONNIE                    Sir, pull over to thesidewalk,                    NOW!                    HECTOR, another skater, joins in.                                            HECTOR                    Leave usalone.                                                                                STEVIE                    Yeah, skating's not a crime,dick.                                            RONNIE                    Skateboarding is not allowed on                    mall premises. Pull overnow!                                            STEVIE                    We're not leaving.                                            HECTOR                    Yeah, fuck you!                    Theskateboarders flip Ronnie off and push hard to get                 away from him. Ronnie guns it and an all out chase          ensues.                                                                (CONTINUED)                                                                           4.                    CONTINUED:                    Ronnie pulls up alongside of a SLOW SKATER. Ronnie side-          swipes the skater,forcing the skater to run into a trash          can and fall.                    Ronnie catches up to ANOTHER SKATER. This time, Ronnie          tries to hit the skater on the side again, but he is too          fast. Ronnieswerves trying to get him, but he dodges          and ducks. Ronnie hits the brake. The skater thinks he          has escaped, but looks up and sees that a car is in his          way. The skater nails the car and is thrown overthe          hood.                    Ronnie is back in the chase and only Hector and Stevie          are left. Ronnie guns the golf cart and zooms up closely          behind the two kids.                    Ronnierams Hector over and over from behind. Hector          wobbles. Ronnie rams him again. Hector goes swerving          off and falls down hard.                    Ronnie doesn't break his pace and guns it towardStevie.                    Stevie is good. He turns and rides through cars, ollies          over parking blocks, and through pedestrians. Ronnie          burns down the lane beside him.                    Stevielooks behind and Ronnie is nowhere in sight.    He's          in the clear.                    Stevie turns back around and sees Ronnie, driving in          reverse straight towards him. Ronnie rams into the          skaterand knocks the poor kid on his ass.                                                                    STEVIE                                                     What the fuck are youdoing?                                                                     RONNIE                                                     I was driving in reverse and                                             trying to get you to flip intothe                                       back seat.                                                                                STEVIE                                                     What?                                                                                RONNIE                       That way I could handcuff you                                            smoothly and take you in. You                                            know, never mind, just get inthe                                        goddamn golf cart.                                                    Stevie picks himself up slowly and hobbles toward the                    golfcart.                                                                                5.                    INT. MALL - SECURITY OFFICE -MORNING                    Ronnie is in the room with the monitors. The skaters sit          across from him. There's a poster on the wall with the          security guard motto: OBSERVE ANDREPORT.                    Ronnie fiddles with his walkie-talkie.                                                                  RONNIE                    It seems like we go throughthis                                      every day. What's it going to                                         take for you all to realize that I                                    won't tolerate this horseplay and                                     just dowhatever you want to and                                      don't worry about the


The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Coming Race, by Edward Bulwer LyttonThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use itunder the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: The Coming RaceAuthor: Edward Bulwer LyttonRelease Date: February 18, 2006 [EBook #1951]LastUpdated: August 28, 2016Language: EnglishCharacter set encoding: UTF-8*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COMING RACE ***Produced by Fred Ihde and David WidgerTHE COMING RACEbyEdward Bulwer, Lord LyttonChapter I.I am a native of _____, in the United States of America. My ancestorsmigrated from England in the reign of Charles II.; and my grandfatherwas not undistinguished in the War ofIndependence. My family,therefore, enjoyed a somewhat high social position in right of birth;and being also opulent, they were considered disqualified for the publicservice. My father once ran for Congress, but wassignally defeated byhis tailor. After that event he interfered little in politics, and livedmuch in his library. I was the eldest of three sons, and sent at the ageof sixteen to the old country, partly to complete my literaryeducation,partly to commence my commercial training in a mercantile firm atLiverpool. My father died shortly after I was twenty-one; and being leftwell off, and having a taste for travel and adventure, I resigned, foratime, all pursuit of the almighty dollar, and became a desultorywanderer over the face of the earth.In the year 18__, happening to be in _____, I was invited by aprofessional engineer, with whom I had madeacquaintance, to visit therecesses of the ________ mine, upon which he was employed.The reader will understand, ere he close this narrative, my reason forconcealing all clue to the district of which I write, and willperhapsthank me for refraining from any description that may tend to itsdiscovery.Let me say, then, as briefly as possible, that I accompanied theengineer into the interior of the mine, and became sostrangelyfascinated by its gloomy wonders, and so interested in my friendsexplorations, that I prolonged my stay in the neighbourhood, anddescended daily, for some weeks, into the vaults and galleries hollowedbynature and art beneath the surface of the earth. The engineer waspersuaded that far richer deposits of mineral wealth than had yet beendetected, would be found in a new shaft that had been commenced underhisoperations. In piercing this shaft we came one day upon a chasmjagged and seemingly charred at the sides, as if burst asunder at somedistant period by volcanic fires. Down this chasm my friend causedhimself to belowered in a cage, having first tested the atmosphereby the safety-lamp. He remained nearly an hour in the abyss. When hereturned he was very pale, and with an anxious, thoughtful expressionof face, verydifferent from its ordinary character, which was open,cheerful, and fearless.He said briefly that the descent appeared to him unsafe, and leading tono result; and, suspending further operations in the shaft, wereturnedto the more familiar parts of the mine.All the rest of that day the engineer seemed preoccupied by someabsorbing thought. He was unusually taciturn, and there was a scared,bewildered look in his eyes, as thatof a man who has seen a ghost. Atnight, as we two were sitting alone in the lodging we shared togethernear the mouth of the mine, I said to my friend,--Tell me frankly what you saw in that chasm: I am sure it wassomethingstrange and terrible. Whatever it be, it has left your mind in a stateof doubt. In such a case two heads are better than one. Confide in me.The engineer long endeavoured to evade my inquiries; but as, whilehespoke, he helped himself unconsciously out of the brandy-flask to adegree to which he was wholly unaccustomed, for he was a very temperateman, his reserve gradually melted away. He who would keep himselftohimself should imitate the dumb animals, and drink water. At last hesaid, I will tell you all. When the cage stopped, I found myself ona ridge of rock; and below me, the chasm, taking a slanting direction,shot downto a considerable depth, the darkness of which my lamp couldnot have penetrated. But through it, to my infinite surprise, streamedupward a steady brilliant light. Could it be any volcanic fire? In thatcase, surely Ishould have felt the heat. Still, if on this there wasdoubt, it was of the utmost importance to our common safety to clear itup. I examined the sides of the descent, and found that I could ventureto trust myself to theirregular projection of ledges, at least for someway. I left the cage and clambered down. As I drew nearer and nearer tothe light, the chasm became wider, and at last I saw, to my unspeakableamaze, a broad level roadat the bottom of the abyss, illumined as faras the eye could reach by what seemed artificial gas-lamps placed atregular intervals, as in the thoroughfare of a great city; and I heardconfusedly at a distance a hum as ofhuman voices. I know, of course,that no rival miners are at work in this district. Whose could be thosevoices? What human hands could have levelled that road and marshalledthose lamps?The superstitious belief,common to miners, that gnomes or fiends dwellwithin the bowels of the earth, began to seize me. I shuddered at thethought of descending further and braving the inhabitants of this nethervalley. Nor indeed could Ihave done so without ropes, as from the spotI had reached to the bottom of the chasm the sides of the rock sank downabrupt, smooth, and sheer. I retraced my steps with some difficulty. NowI have told youall.You will descend again?I ought, yet I feel as if I durst not.A trusty companion halves the journey and doubles the courage. I willgo with you. We will provide ourselves with ropes of suitable lengthandstrength--and--pardon me--you must not drink more to-night, our handsand feet must be steady and firm tomorrow.Chapter II.With the morning my friends nerves were rebraced, and he was notless excited bycuriosity than myself. Perhaps more; for he evidentlybelieved in his own story, and I felt considerable doubt of it; not thathe would have wilfully told an untruth, but that I thought he must havebeen under one of thosehallucinations which seize on our fancy or ournerves in solitary, unaccustomed places, and in which we give shape tothe formless and sound to the dumb.We selected six veteran miners to watch our descent; and as thecageheld only one at a time, the engineer descended first; and when he hadgained the ledge at which he had before halted, the cage rearose for me.I soon gained his side. We had provided ourselves with a strong coilofrope.The light struck on my sight as it had done the day before on myfriends. The hollow through which it came sloped diagonally: it seemedto me a diffused atmospheric light, not like that from fire, but softandsilvery, as from a northern star. Quitting the cage, we descended,one after the other, easily enough, owing to the juts in the side, tillwe reached the place at which my friend had previously halted, and whichwas aprojection just spacious enough to allow us to stand abreast. Fromthis spot the chasm widened rapidly like the lower end of a vast funnel,and I saw distinctly the valley, the road, the lamps which my companionhaddescribed. He had exaggerated nothing. I heard the sounds he hadheard--a mingled indescribable hum as of voices and a dull tramp as offeet. Straining my eye farther down, I clearly beheld at a distance theoutline ofsome large building. It could not be mere natural rock, itwas too symmetrical, with huge heavy Egyptian-like columns, and thewhole lighted as from within. I had about me a small pocket-telescope,and by the aid ofthis, I could distinguish, near the building Imention, two forms which seemed human, though I could not be sure. Atleast they were living, for they moved, and both vanished within thebuilding. We now proceeded toattach the end of the rope we had broughtwith us to the ledge on which we stood, by the aid of clamps andgrappling hooks, with which, as well as with necessary tools, we wereprovided.We were almost silent in ourwork. We toiled like men afraid to speak toeach other. One end of the rope being thus apparently made firm to theledge, the other, to which we fastened a fragment of the rock, rested onthe ground below, a distance ofsome fifty feet. I was a younger man anda more active man than my companion, and having served on board ship inmy boyhood, this mode of transit was more familiar to me than to him. Ina whisper I claimed theprecedence, so that when I gained the ground Imight serve to hold the rope more steady for his descent. I got safelyto the ground beneath, and the engineer now began to lower himself.But he had scarcelyaccomplished ten feet of the descent, when thefastenings, which we had fancied so secure, gave way, or rather therock itself proved treacherous and crumbled beneath the strain; and theunhappy man was precipitatedto the bottom, falling just at my feet,and bringing down with his fall splinters of the rock, one of which,fortunately but a small one, struck and for the time stunned me. When Irecovered my senses I saw my companionan inanimate mass beside me,life utterly extinct. While I was bending over his corpse in grief andhorror, I heard close at hand a strange sound between a snort and ahiss; and turning instinctively to the quarter fromwhich it came, I sawemerging from a dark fissure in the rock a vast and terrible head,with open jaws and dull, ghastly, hungry eyes--the head of a monstrousreptile resembling that of the crocodile or alligator, butinfinitelylarger than the largest creature of that kind I had ever beheld in mytravels. I started to my feet and fled down the valley at my utmostspeed. I stopped at last, ashamed of my panic and my flight, andreturnedto the spot on which I had left the body of my friend. Itwas gone; doubtless the monster had already drawn it into its den anddevoured it. The rope and the grappling-hooks still lay where they hadfallen, but theyafforded me no chance of return; it was impossible tore-attach them to the rock above, and the sides of the rock were toosheer and smooth for human steps to clamber. I was alone in this strangeworld, amidst thebowels of the earth.Chapter III.Slowly and cautiously I went my solitary way down the lamplit road andtowards the large building I have described. The road itself seemed likea great Alpine pass, skirting rockymountains of which the one throughwhose chasm I had descended formed a link. Deep below to the left laya vast valley, which presented to my astonished eye the unmistakeableevidences of art and culture. Therewere fields covered with a strangevegetation, similar to none I have seen above the earth; the colour ofit not green, but rather of a dull and leaden hue or of a golden red.There were lakes and rivulets which seemed tohave been curved intoartificial banks; some of pure water, others that shone like pools ofnaphtha. At my right hand, ravines and defiles opened amidst the rocks,with passes between, evidently constructed by art, andbordered by treesresembling, for the most part, gigantic ferns, with exquisite varietiesof feathery foliage, and stems like those of the palm-tree. Others weremore like the cane-plant, but taller, bearing large clusters offlowers.Others, again, had the form of enormous fungi, with short thick stemssupporting a wide dome-like roof, from which either rose or drooped longslender branches. The whole scene behind, before, and beside mefar asthe eye could reach, was brilliant with innumerable lamps. The worldwithout a sun was bright and warm as an Italian landscape at noon, butthe air less oppressive, the heat softer. Nor was the scene beforemevoid of signs of habitation. I could distinguish at a distance, whetheron the banks of the lake or rivulet, or half-way upon eminences,embedded amidst the vegetation, buildings that must surely be the homesof men.I could even discover, though far off, forms that appeared tome human moving amidst the landscape. As I paused to gaze, I saw tothe right, gliding quickly through the air, what appeared a smallboat, impelled by sailsshaped like wings. It soon passed out of sight,descending amidst the shades of a forest. Right above me there was nosky, but only a cavernous roof. This roof grew higher and higher at thedistance of the landscapesbeyond, till it became imperceptible, as anatmosphere of haze formed itself beneath.Continuing my walk, I started,--from a bush that resembled a greattangle of sea-weeds, interspersed with fern-like shrubs and plantsoflarge leafage shaped like that of the aloe or prickly-pear,--a curiousanimal about the size and shape of a deer. But as, after bounding awaya few paces, it turned round and gazed at me inquisitively, I perceivedthat itwas not like any species of deer now extant above the earth,but it brought instantly to my recollection a plaster cast I had seenin some museum of a variety of the elk stag, said to have existed beforethe Deluge. Thecreature seemed tame enough, and, after inspecting me amoment or two, began to graze on the singular herbiage around undismayedand careless.Chapter IV.I now came in full sight of the building. Yes, it had beenmade byhands, and hollowed partly out of a great rock. I should have supposedit at the first glance to have been of the earliest form of Egyptianarchitecture. It was fronted by huge columns, tapering upwardfrommassive plinths, and with capitals that, as I came nearer, I perceivedto be more ornamental and more fantastically graceful that Egyptianarchitecture allows. As the Corinthian capital mimics the leaf of theacanthus,so the capitals of these columns imitated the foliage of thevegetation neighbouring them, some aloe-like, some fern-like. And nowthere came out of this building a form--human;--was it human? It stoodon the broadway and looked around, beheld me and approached. Itcame within a few yards of me, and at the sight and presence of it anindescribable awe and tremor seized me, rooting my feet to the ground.It reminded me ofsymbolical images of Genius or Demon that are seen onEtruscan vases or limned on the walls of Eastern sepulchres--images thatborrow the outlines of man, and are yet of another race. It was tall,not gigantic, but tallas the tallest man below the height of giants.Its chief covering seemed to me to be composed of large wings foldedover its breast and reaching to its knees; the rest of its attire wascomposed of an under tunic andleggings of some thin fibrous material.It wore on its head a kind of tiara that shone with jewels, and carriedin its right hand a slender staff of bright metal like polished steel.But the face! it was that which inspired myawe and my terror. It wasthe face of man, but yet of a type of man distinct from our known extantraces. The nearest approach to it in outline and expression is theface of the sculptured sphinx--so regular in its calm,intellectual,mysterious beauty. Its colour was peculiar, more like that of the redman than any other variety of our species, and yet different from it--aricher and a softer hue, with large black eyes, deep and brilliant,andbrows arched as a semicircle. The face was beardless; but a namelesssomething in the aspect, tranquil though the expression, and beauteousthough the features, roused that instinct of danger which the sight ofatiger or serpent arouses. I felt that this manlike image was endowedwith forces inimical to man. As it drew near, a cold shudder came overme. I fell on my knees and covered my face with my hands.Chapter V.A voiceaccosted me--a very quiet and very musical key of voice--in alanguage of which I could not understand a word, but it served todispel my fear. I uncovered my face and looked up. The stranger (I couldscarcely bringmyself to call him man) surveyed me with an eye thatseemed to read to the very depths of my heart. He then placed his lefthand on my forehead, and with the staff in his right, gently touched myshoulder. The effect ofthis double contact was magical. In place of myformer terror there passed into me a sense of contentment, of joy, ofconfidence in myself and in the being before me. I rose and spoke inmy own language. He listened tome with apparent attention, but with aslight surprise in his looks; and shook his head, as if to signify thatI was not understood. He then took me by the hand and led me in silenceto the building. The entrance wasopen--indeed there was no door to it.We entered an immense hall, lighted by the same kind of lustre as in thescene without, but diffusing a fragrant odour. The floor was in largetesselated blocks of precious metals, andpartly covered with a sort ofmatlike carpeting. A strain of low music, above and around, undulated asif from invisible instruments, seeming to belong naturally to the place,just as the sound of murmuring waters belongsto a rocky landscape, orthe warble of birds to vernal groves.A figure in a simpler garb than that of my guide, but of similarfashion, was standing motionless near the threshold. My guide touchedit twice with his staff,and it put itself into a rapid and glidingmovement, skimming noiselessly over the floor. Gazing on it, I then sawthat it was no living form, but a mechanical automaton. It might be twominutes after it vanished through adoorless opening, half screened bycurtains at the other end of the hall, when through the same openingadvanced a boy of about twelve years old, with features closelyresembling those of my guide, so that they seemedto me evidently sonand father. On seeing me the child uttered a cry, and lifted a stafflike that borne by my guide, as if in menace. At a word from the elderhe dropped it. The two then conversed for some moments,examining mewhile they spoke. The child touched my garments, and stroked my facewith evident curiosity, uttering a sound like a laugh, but with anhilarity more subdued that the mirth of our laughter. Presently theroofof the hall opened, and a platform descended, seemingly constructedon the same principle as the lifts used in hotels and warehouses formounting from one story to another.The stranger placed himself and thechild on the platform, and motionedto me to do the same, which I did. We ascended quickly and safely, andalighted in the midst of a corridor with doorways on either side.Through one of these doorways I wasconducted into a chamber fitted upwith an oriental splendour; the walls were tesselated with spars, andmetals, and uncut jewels; cushions and divans abounded; apertures as forwindows but unglazed, were made inthe chamber opening to the floor;and as I passed along I observed that these openings led into spaciousbalconies, and commanded views of the illumined landscape without. Incages suspended from the ceiling therewere birds of strange form andbright plumage, which at our entrance set up a chorus of song, modulatedinto tune as is that of our piping bullfinches. A delicious fragrance,from censers of gold elaborately sculptured,filled the air. Severalautomata, like the one I had seen, stood dumb and motionless by thewalls. The stranger placed me beside him on a divan and again spoketo me, and again I spoke, but without the least advancetowardsunderstanding each other.But now I began to feel the effects of the blow I had received from thesplinters of the falling rock more acutely that I had done at first.There came over me a sense of sickly faintness,accompanied with acute,lancinating pains in the head and neck. I sank back on the seat andstrove in vain to stifle a groan. On this the child, who had hithertoseemed to eye me with distrust or dislike, knelt by my sideto supportme; taking one of my hands in both his own, he approached his lips tomy forehead, breathing on it softly. In a few moments my pain ceased; adrowsy, heavy calm crept over me; I fell asleep.How long Iremained in this state I know not, but when I woke I feltperfectly restored. My eyes opened upon a group of silent forms, seatedaround me in the gravity and quietude of Orientals--all more or lesslike the first stranger;the same mantling wings, the same fashion ofgarment, the same sphinx-like faces, with the deep dark eyes and redmans colour; above all, the same type of race--race akin to mans, butinfinitely stronger of formand grandeur of aspect--and inspiring thesame unutterable feeling of dread. Yet each countenance was mild andtranquil, and even kindly in expression. And, strangely enough, itseemed to me that in this very calm andbenignity consisted the secretof the dread which the countenances inspired. They seemed as void of thelines and shadows which care and sorrow, and passion and sin, leave uponthe faces of men, as are the faces ofsculptured gods, or as, in theeyes of Christian mourners, seem the peaceful brows of the dead.I felt a warm hand on my shoulder; it was the childs. In his eyes therewas a sort of lofty pity and tenderness, such as


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   <title>"Dark Star", short film script, by John Carpenter & Dan O'Bannon</title><bodybgcolor="#ffffff">
                    DARK STAR: A SCIENCE FICTION ADVENTURE                 A Screenplay by John Carpenter and Dan O'Bannon     OPEN ON BLACK SILENCE.     The sound ofelectronic music rises, hollow, metallic.     FADE IN on a long TRACKING SHOT through the universe.  As the NARRATOR     speaks we move through galaxies, nebulae, solar systems, moving from     the infinite slowlydown to a particular planetary system deep within     a maze of suns.                                   NARRATOR                              (over)                    It is the mid 22nd Century.  Mankind                    hasexplored the boundaries of his                    own solar system, and now he reaches                    out to the endless interstellar                    distances of the universe.  He moves                    away from his own smallplanetary                    system in huge hyperdrive starships:                    computer-driven, self-supporting,                    closed-system spacecraft that travel                    at mind-staggeringpost-light                    velocities.  Man has begun to spread                    among the stars.  Enormous ships                    embark with generations of colonists                    searching the depths of spacefor                    new earths, now homes, new                    beginnings.  Far in advance of these                    colony ships goes a new pioneer: the                    scouts, the pathfinders, a special                    breed ofman who has dedicated his                    life to blazing the trail through                    the most distant, unexplored                    galaxies, opening up the farthest                    frontiers of space.  These arethe                    men of the Advance Exploration                    Corps.  The task they face is one of                    unbelievable isolation and                    loneliness.  So far from home that                    Earth is no longereven a point of                    light in the sky, they must comb the                    universe for those unstable planets                    whose existence poses a threat to                    the peaceful colonists thatfollow.                    They must find these rogue planets                    -- and destroy them.  Among these                    commandos are the men of the                    scoutship Dark Star.     We are now movingtoward a planet.  Floating in front of the planet is     the SCOUTSHIP DARK STAR.  As we move toward the ship, we begin to hear     VOICES, crackling withstatic.                                   DOOLITTLE                              (over -- radio filter)                    Ah, what'd you say, Pinback?                                   PINBACK                              (over -- greatstatic)                    Mafhkin oble groop...                                   DOOLITTLE                              (over -- filter)                    Ah, what was that again, I still                    can't hearyou?                                   PINBACK                              (over -- filter)                    I said I'm trying to reach Talby.                    Something's wrong with the damn                    intercom.  I need alast-minute                    diameter approximation.     CAMERA IS NOW FLOATING TOWARD THE OBSERVATION DOME on top of the ship.     In the Dome sits TALBY.  He is staring around, wide-eyed, at the     planetsand stars.                                   DOOLITTLE                              (over -- filter)                    Talby, Talby, this is Doolittle.  Do                    you read me?  Talby?     WE MOVE IN CLOSE ON TALBY'SFACE.  The shot stops and holds as he     continues to stare, rapt.                                   DOOLITTLE                              (cont'd -- over --                              filter)                    Talby, do you readme?     There is a CRACKLE, and Doolittle's voice suddenly booms through, loud     andclear:                                   DOOLITTLE                              (cont'd)                    TALBY!                                   TALBY                              (snaps out of it)                    Oh!  Ah, yes,Doolittle.  What is it?     INTERIOR - CONTROL ROOM     CLOSE SHOT of a digital clock, ticking down the seconds.                                   DOOLITTLE                    I need a diameterapproximation.                                   TALBY                              (over)                    Okay, Doolittle, I'll have it in a                    minute.     CAMERA BEGINS TO PULL BACK along the length of the controlroom,     revealing three men: BOILER, DOOLITTLE, and PINBACK.  They are seated     close together in cramped little chairs, surrounded by a maze of     instrumentation, pressing buttons, making adjustments andcorrections.     There is one EMPTY CHAIR; the panel in front of it looks burned.                                   PINBACK                    I need a GHF reading on thegravity                    correction.                                   DOOLITTLE                    I'll check it.                                   BOILER                    I have a reduced drive reading of                    seventhousand.                                   PINBACK                    Right, that checks outhere.                                   DOOLITTLE                    Pinback...                                   PINBACK                    Yes, Doolittle.                                   DOOLITTLE                    Your GHFreading is minus fifteen.                                   PINBACK                    Doolittle...                                   DOOLITTLE                    Yes.                                   PINBACK                    Ineed a computer reading on a fail-                    safe mark.                                   DOOLITTLE                    In a second.                                   PINBACK                    Boiler, can you set me up withsome                    temp figures?                                   BOILER                    Ninety seven million, minus eight,                    corrected to masscritical.                                   PINBACK                    I read that with a quantum increase                    of seven.                                   DOOLITTLE                    Pinback, I have a computerreading                    of nine five seven seven.                                   BOILER                    Time to start talking.                                   PINBACK                    Bomb bay systemsoperational.     Pinback hits a button on his panel.     INTERIOR - BOMB BAY     The screen is BLACK for an instant.  Then, two enormous doors begin to     open ponderously, revealing the planet rotatingbelow.  A huge BOMB,     designated with a giant #19 on its side, lowers slowly out of the     ship on a rack.                                   NARRATOR                              (over)                    This is achain-reaction bomb,                    otherwise known as an Exponential                    Thermostellar Device.  Its own                    destructive power is small, barely                    enough to vaporize twelvecity                    blocks.  However, when it explodes in                    contact with an object the size of a                    planet, it starts a chain-reaction                    in the very matter of that planet,                    turningit into a giant reactor                    which destroys itself in one                    staggering thermal flash.                    These bombs are equipped with                    sophisticated thought andspeech                    mechanisms, to allow them to make                    executive decisions in the event of                    a crisis situation.  These judgment                    centers are controlled by a fail-                    safemechanism.     INTERIOR - CONTROL ROOM                                   DOOLITTLE                    Lock fail safe.     Pinback turns a key in alock.                                   PINBACK                    Fail-safe locked.  Ah, Sergeant                    Pinback call1ng Bomb #19.  Do you                    read me, bomb?     EXTERIOR - BOMB BAY     Thebomb is suspended beneath the ship.                                   BOMB #19                    Bomb #19 to Sergeant Pinback, I read                    you.  Continue.     When the bomb speaks, it has the prim, fussyvoice of a minor civil     servant.     INTERIOR - CONTROL ROOM                                   PINBACK                    Well, bomb, we have about sixty                    seconds to drop.  Just wonderingif                    everything is all right.  Have you                    checked your platinum euridium                    energy shielding?     EXTERIOR - BOMB BAY                                   BOMB#19                    Energy shielding positive function.     INTERIOR - CONTROL ROOM                                   PINBACK                    Swell.  Let's synchronize detonation                    time.  Doyou know when you're                    supposed to go off?     EXTERIOR - BOMB BAY                                   BOMB #19                    Detonation in six minutes,twenty                    seconds.     INTERIOR - CONTROL ROOM                                   PINBACK                    All right, I have detonation time                    at... Wait a minute,something's                    wrong with the clock.                              (hits panel)                    All right, I have detonation time                    at... no, that can't be right, it                    says threeyears.                              (beats panel again)                    Okay, I have six minutes exactly.                    Does that check out down there?     EXTERIOR - BOMB BAY                                   BOMB#19                    Check at six minutes.     INTERIOR - CONTROL ROOM                                   PINBACK                    Arm yourself, bomb.     EXTERIOR - BOMB BAY     Several lightsblip on along the bomb's side.                                   BOMB #19                    Armed.     INTERIOR - CONTROL ROOM                                   PINBACK                    Well, then, everythingsounds fine.                    We'll drop you off in thirty-five                    seconds.  Good luck.     EXTERIOR - BOMB BAY                                   BOMB #19                    Thanks.     INTERIOR -CONTROL ROOM                                   PINBACK                    Begin main sequence.  Mark at 10-9-8-                    7-6-5-4-3-2-1-drop.     EXTERIOR - THE SHIP     Bomb #19 falls away fromthe ship and whizzes down toward the planet     below.     INTERIOR - CONTROL ROOM                                   DOOLITTLE                    Hyperdrive sequence begun.  Hitit,                    Pinback.     Pinback hits the hyperdrive switch.  Force fields energize around the     men.     EXTERIOR - THE SHIP     The DARK STAR accelerates into hyperdrive and streaks away