Saviour

INT. COMMAND CENTRE - NIGHT

A solitary figure in stark florescent light, in blue coveralls, sits at a console, hands knit together over his stomach. This is MURDOCH. We know because that's what the name tag on his chest says. He stares vacantly, straight ahead at a robotic countdown on a screen.

AI VOICE : . . . two, one. Ignition sequence commenced. Magnetic locks released.

He spins in his chair to look out a bay window into a black, starry nothingness. A futuristic coach bus like vessel floats past him and out into that very nothingness. He looks back at a screen above the main one with a galaxy chart and a vessel icon headed for a galaxy labelled "NGC 2841."

Murdoch looks back out into space.

MURDOCH : You're welcome.

AI VOICE : Readying dock for arrival. Staging area air lock engaged. Stand by.

Murdoch looks at a red light above the door and gives his chair a big spin off the console. He looks up at the light on the last couple of rotations and points his finger gun to it, shooting as the chair comes to a stop and the light turns green. He holsters the pretend weapon, steps up and out of the command centre and down the metal gangplank to the warehouse style staging area in which the centre is situated.

INT. STAGING AREA - NIGHT

Murdoch stretches. Stands in the middle of an empty, cavernous, concrete space. Vessels just like the one that departed, hang from ceiling girders that seem like a mile above his head. Looks out a giant bay window into the nothingness of space. Standing beside three shipping containers, he grabs his mop and bucket and begins a systematic cleaning of an orange taped off area.

Later. A light flashes through the staging area.

AI VOICE : Countdown to airlock release.

INT. STAGING AREA - NIGHT

A green light appears over the door of the command centre. The door opens and Murdoch exits, down the gangplank and to a vessel filling the taped off section of the staging area.

He reaches up to a twist handle, releasing a pressure valve and the door pops, slowly turns open and down to become steps. An excited group of thirty people, all happily chatting, some whooping and high fiving, emerge. Some shake Murdoch's hand, some nod, others don't even notice him.

VISITOR 1 : (joking) This is a bit of a dive, isn't it?

VISITOR 2 : (joking back) Hey, just wait till we get to the final destination. (pulling Murdoch aside) Does the next ship have more leg room than the one we rode up on?

MURDOCH : They're beds in zero gravity capsules. You're in an induced coma so it doesn't . . .

VISITOR 2 : Hot damn! My legs were starting to cramp up in coach back here. Next trip we're going business class!

Visitor 2 walks away. Murdoch lets him go.

INT. STAGING AREA - NEXT DAY

The vessel is gone. The visitors line up single file in the taped off area and make their way into shipping container #1, labelled "HEALTH CHECK," rolling up their sleeves. Murdoch gets them all in and shuts the door.

INT. STAGING AREA - DAY.

Later. The visitors all sit in another part of the staging area, around picnic style metal tables, not far from rows of simple cots, eating packaged food. Murdoch stands beside, not with, them. Visitor 2 sidles up. Rubbing his upper arm.

VISITOR 2 : I hate needles. (beat) So how'd you get this gig, anyway?

MURDOCH : I had the training and was one of the few to pass the personality test to show . . .

VISITOR 2 : You couldn't be bribed.

MURDOCH : I wouldn't abandon the station to save myself.

The visitor registers the answer. Right.

VISITOR 2 : Well, good thing for me you're still here! And good thing for you you're not still down there. (grimaces) It is a royal mess down there, I'll tell ya. I don't know how many more of these ships we're going to get off before everything goes tits up. I heard some places are dealing with cannibalism. Sheesh.

Murdoch nods like he cares.

VISITOR 2 : Not much longer before people realize money is worthless on a dead planet and you won't be able to buy your safety or your way out of there. Just glad there were a few suckers left. Well, glad you and the AI are still here. Your bosses have probably all buggered off, eh? No supervision at least!

Visitor 2 slaps him on the back. Laughs. But Murdoch doesn't respond. Makes it awkward.

INT. STAGING AREA - DAY

Next day. Visitors stand single file in front of container #2 labelled "METABOLIC STABILIZERS." Murdoch gets the last one in and shuts the door.

INT. STAGING AREA - NIGHT

Murdoch stands by the command centre, staring vacantly at his visitors below the bay window. They laugh obnoxiously, they roll their eyes, they whisper to others. Visitor 2 appears.

VISITOR 2 : Hey, guess we'll be out of your hair in less than 24 hours. You gonna miss us?

MURDOCH : Just part of the job.

VISITOR 2 : I bet. Look, just thinking of our conversation yesterday and wanted to thank you for passing that test. Talking to Simpson over there, says it's a "virtue test?" Says it means you're willing to sacrifice yourself to save the rest of us.

MURDOCH : Basically.

VISITOR 2 : Hell, you're a better man than I am, that's for sure. Better than the whole group of us. (staring at the others) A lot of assholes over there, if I can be honest.

MURDOCH You can.

VISITOR 2 : I don't know, I think they got this all wrong. They should be sending you out into the universe to continue the human race. Not us.

MURDOCH : I have more important work to do right here.

VISITOR 2 : Geez, and here you are, making the ultimate sacrifice. For us. For others. For humanity.

MURDOCH : For the universe.

Visitor 2 starts to tear up. A little. He faces Murdoch square on and offers his hand for a firm handshake. He pumps it as genuinely as he knows how.

VISITOR 2 : Thank you. For your service.

They shake hands and look out the bay window into the nothingness. Visitor 2 leaves him for the others.

Murdoch looks over at the tables. Visitors walk away, laugh and shout, leave the empty packaging and food remnants behind. He walks over with a garbage bag and cleans it up.

INT. STAGING AREA - DAY

Next day. Last of the visitors enter container #3 labelled "COMA PREP." He shuts the door. A deep sigh. Finally.

Later. Murdoch stands outside of the orange tape. Thirty sealed capsules with the hibernating visitors beside him. He presses a button on a long cable. A vessel from the ceiling is brought down inside the yellow tape.

Later. Loading door to vessel is open. Murdoch stands above a comatose Visitor 2. He looks out the bay window at the nothingness, pulls a bloody box cutter into frame and plunges it across Visitor 2's throat, blood splattering on the capsule lid. We pan to see all the open capsules have blood splatter on them. Murdoch presses a button to close the lid.

INT. COMMAND CENTRE - DAY

Murdoch stares vacantly at the countdown screen.

AI VOICE : . . . two, one. Ignition sequence commenced. Magnetic locks released.

The futuristic coach bus like vessel floats past him and out into the nothingness. Murdoch looks out the window.

Not at the vessel as it floats past. At the nothingness.

MURDOCH : You're welcome.

AI VOICE : Readying dock for arrival. Staging area air lock engaged. Stand by.

He spins in his chair. Shoots the red light into green.