Screenplay by D. T. Twohy



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ALIEN III

screenplay by D.T. Twohy


FIRST DRAFT

October 1989


- - -
FADE IN:
1 EXT. METEOROID SWARM - DEEP SPACE
Meteoroids drift through space, silent and peaceful. Suddenly a shark

in their midst: Attacking from behind, a ship collects smaller

meteoroids in a jawlike scoop, swallowing them whole.
2 INT. MINING SHIP
Inside, rotating teeth smash the meteors into rubble. Hoppers fill.

Lasers scan the rubble for composition before conveyors trundle it

away. The factory is crudely efficient, PREHISTORICALLY LOUD. Until...
The teeth stop rotating...
Conveyors seize up...
Lasers die...
3 EXT. MINING SHIP
And the jawlike scoop, hinged, begins closing.
4 INT. MINING SHIP
With the LOUDEST CLANG EVER HEARD, the jaws clamp shut.
ECHOES through empty corridors. Only then the ship is hauntingly quiet

do we hear the first signs of human life: FOOTSTEPS.


Greasy and agitated, the PROSPECTOR appears. He doesn't know why the

machines have stopped, but he does know what's responsible. He stalks

to a door...
5 INT. OPERATIONS - MINING SHIP
...and flat-hands it open.
PROSPECTOR

So what the hell is it now?


Terminals flash the same message:
AUTOMATIC SHUTDOWN P/24/97.

POSSIBLE XENOMORPH DETECTION, HOPPER 6.


PROSPECTOR

"Xenomorph," huh?

(stabbing reset button)

Crush it.


But the machinery won't reactivate. Screens continue to flash the

message. The prospector storms out.


6 INT. HOPPER - MINING SHIP
In the shadowy depths of a hopper, the prospector uses a lever to

search through meteoroid rubble. Some of the rock is a vitreous,

golden-hued. Amber.
PROSPECTOR

These fuckin' fossil-hunts...


Then he spots it. Mostly buried in rubble. What little we can see

reminds us of a tail. A dark, coiled tail.


Scowling, the prospector reaches down. Pokes it. Feels it. Lifts it up

to reveal...


A piece of flexible conduit.
PROSPECTOR

(peering at ceiling)

Fallin' apart. Whole ship's comin'

apart at the welds.


He searches on. Finally he abandons his lever for a chunk of amber. He

hoists it up, trying for better light. We can't tell for sure -- but

it looks like something is suspended inside the rock.
7 INT. OPERATIONS - MINING SHIP
PROSPECTOR

(to comm-panel)

...Company Mining Ship WYM/263,

Sector 118-M, Quad 4, working the

Borealis Claim. Filing report as

required by section...section...


He thumbs through a greasy manual but can't find the right reference.

He flings it aside.


PROSPECTOR (CONT'D)

"Xenomorph" specimen detected and

recovered. Currently suspended in

organic resin-polymer compound,

a.k.a. "amber," little or no

fossilization. It you want it, come

get it.
He slaps a switch. "MESSAGE DISPATCHED" appears on the terminal, then

"SHUTDOWN CANCELLED." All around, we hear the great MACHINERY POUNDING

back to life.
The prospector swivels to face the chunk of rock. Now backlit, we see

that inside -- suspended in a coffin of golden glass -- is a face-

hugger. A protean Alien.
PROSPECTOR

So tell me. Why would such a big

company like this be interested in

such a little shit like you? Huh?


He taps the rock. No movement inside. He draws closer, trying to

discern more detail. And just when we expect the face-hugger to

shatter out and grab the prospector's face...
Something grabs his shoulder.
ASSISTANT

What's goin' on?


PROSPECTOR

(shaking off hand)

Same ol' ratshit. Go back to sleep.

Your shift don't start for three

hours yet.
8 EXT. MINING SHIP - METEOROID FIELD
The jaws reopen. As it returns to chasing meteoroids, the ship passes

close to VIEW. We get a good look at the corporate logo of "Weylan-

Yutani" before we...
FADE OUT
"THREE YEARS LATER"
FADE IN:
9 EXT. EARTH - PRE-DAWN
Dark Earth. The lights of a rampant civilization craze the landmasses.

Soon an orbit-to-orbit transport appears. It angles toward a glowing

horizon.
10 INT. CABIN - TRANSPORT SHIP
Passengers sit in the dim interior, portholes their only luxury. Some

peer out to see...


11 EXT. SPACE STATION - PRE-DAWN
Something huge ahead. Whatever it is, it blots out the starfield

behind it.


12 INT. CABIN - TRANSPORT SHIP
More passengers strain to see.
13 EXT. SPACE STATION - DAWN
Now the sun rises behind Earth, illuminating the rind of atmosphere

and then...


The space station. Iron black, spired, cathedralesque, designed by

Eiffel and then hand-sculpted by Rodin. It looms in geosynchronous

orbit 23,000 miles above Earth -- a smirch of Hell right where Heaven

should be.


14 INT. CABIN - TRANSPORT SHIP
Reaction passengers: They've never seen it this close. Nor did they

want to.


15 EXT. SPACE STATION - DAWN
The transport reaches a blockade of red-flashing buoys.
16 INT. COCKPIT - TRANSPORT SHIP
PILOT #1

(into headset)

Moloch Island, this is MDT/67 out of

Gateway Station. Bearing 1-2-Fiver

on equatorial approach. Requesting

clearance to dock.


PILOT #1 waits, eyeing the station through her canopy. The central

spire spews burned gas into space.


PILOT #1

Again, this is MDT/67 out of

Gateway. Still awaiting docking

clearance.


17 EXT. SPACE - STATION - DAWN
As if to answer, the buoys turn a provisional yellow. Positioning

rockets fire. The buoys rearrange to form a landing corridor.


18 INT. COCKPIT - TRANSPORT SHIP
As the pilot gooses her throttle.
19 INT. MAIN CABIN - TRANSPORT SHIP
As yellow buoys drift past portholes.
20 EXT. DOCKING PORT - SPACE STATION - DAWN
As the transport slews into a broadside approach.
21 INT. MAIN CABIN - TRANSPORT SHIP
CLANGS and WHINES of docking. At the front of the cabin, an ICC

MARSHALL rises, brandishing a weapon.


MARSHALL

Everybody up.


The passengers CLATTER to their feet. Only now do we see their chains.
22 INT. ADMISSION AREA
CLOSE on a hand pressing down on a scan-plate. U.V. light passes

beneath the hand.


SCAN VOICE

Russo, Susan Lee. F23837. Murder,

Second Degree. 20-Year sentence.
The hand turns over. The wrist area has been branded with an I.D.

number. A pigment burn.


CAPTAIN (O.S.)

Maintenance duty.


WIDER. We're inside the station. The first five prisoners are hooked

together and led away. The next prisoner in line shuffles forward to

place his hand on the scanner.
SCAN VOICE

Van Brunt, Carl Henrik. M23838.

Manslaughter, 49 counts. 49-year

sentence.


VAN BRUNT. Scandinavian. Forty. He moves aside for the next prisoner.
SCAN VOICE

Kiryu, Cheryl. F23839. Possession of

Firebomb, Incitement to Riot,

Corporate Terrorism. Life sentence,

no possibility of parole.
KIRYU. Amerasian. Thirty. Next prisoner up.
SCAN VOICE

Grimes, Howard Stumbo. M23840.

Bigamy, Spousal Rape, Rape with

Foreign Object, Attempted Murder.

Aggregate 32-year sentence.
Piqued, the guard CAPTAIN looks up from his terminal. GRIMES gives him

a shit-for-brains grin.


CAPTAIN

What was the foreign object?


GRIMES

My dick. It's so big, they didn't

believe it was real.
Block guards jerk him away.
GRIMES

Hey, it's true. They booked me two

seats just to get up here.
SCAN VOICE

Domingo, Gustava Gomez Jesus

Incantada.
Prisoners lean out of line to look at DOMINGO. Latin. Tenty years old.

Wears his anger like a coat.


SCAN VOICE (CONT'D)

M23841. Murder, First Degree, four

counts. Death sentence on each

count.
Prisoners APPLAUD the big deal of the day. Domingo wants to piss on

them all. Now STYLES moves up. He's about to put his hand on the

scanner when...


CAPTAIN

Styles, Scott Taylor. Fraud, 10-year

sentence. Additional five years for

escape, Terre Haute. Additional

eight years for escape, Terminal

Island.


(looking up)

You know, son, I just get the

feeling you're gonna give us snags.
STYLES

Oh, no sir. I've learned my lesson.

Well, "lessons."
CAPTAIN

Foundry.


Guards chain the five inmates together.
CAPTAIN

Oh, and Daggs?

(indicating Styles)

Full shackles outside the block.

Line of sight at all times.
Nodding, the guard named DAGGS turns his eyes on Styles. Styles looks

back resignedly. "Gonna be one of those years."


23 INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE FOUNDRY
Caged elevator cars transport personnel between levels, comparable

"equavator" cars transport them laterally along curved corridors. Now

in coveralls, the five new inmates appear. BLOCK GUARD leads. Daggs

shadows.


BLOCK GUARD

...touch a guard, you get stitched.

Fail to respond promptly to a

guard's order, any guard -- block,

solitary, special services -- you

get stitched. Pilfer supplies, you

get stitched...
GRIMES

(to Styles)

"Stitched"?
STYLES

Don't ask.


GRIMES

(to Daggs)

What's "stitched"?
A wicked CHITTERING SOUND: Grimes ducks as the wall beside him

explodes with crisscrossing lines. When the sound stops, hundreds of

small-bore needles have embedded the wall.
BLOCK GUARD

(recycling stitch rifle)

Any other questions?
None. The guard moves to a massive steel door and slaps an open-relay.
BLOCK GUARD

Then let's get busy.


So far, the station has impressed us as sterile and efficient. But

when the overhead DOOR RUMBLES open, we see...


Blasting furnaces. Rippling heat. Rising steam. This is the central

spire, where space-mined ore is processed into steel. The NOISE is

like a hundred train wrecks, and if Hell had nightmares, this would

surely be one.


24 INT. FOUNDRY
Prisoners everywhere, stoking furnaces, lifting rock, oiling

conveyors, channeling rivers of glowing metal.


ROAMING, the VIEW FINDS Styles and Van Brunt. They rake limestone over

screens, sifting out impurities. The dust gets in their eyes, nose,

mouths. Between coughs:
VAN BRUNT

...G-class freighter. Made fueling

runs between the M-class tankers and

smaller ships.


STYLES

Pilot?
VAN BRUNT

Helmsman. Or I was, until a docking

went bad. Came in hot. Took out the

better part of two ships. 49 dead.
STYLES

Never make pilot that way. Wasn't

equipment failure?
VAN BRUNT

Hard to say. So drunk at the time,

don't remember much.
STYLES

Forty-nine years...


VAN BRUNT

You? Twenty years or something?


VOICE

It's all the same.


They look. The voice came from a prisoner raking with his back to

VIEW.
VAN BRUNT

Say something?
The prisoner turns -- and startles us. His skin, his hair, even his

eyes have turned an IVORY white from years of working the limestone.


IVORY

All sentences are the same. All.


25 INT. MACHINE SHOP - FOUNDRY
A glassed-off machine shop. Pipe, wire, small castings are being made.
Workers are stacking a pallet with heavy pipe -- and stacking it too

high. The first pipe falls, starting an avalanche that CLATTERS

toward...
Kiryu. She sees it coming but freezes up. At the last second, hands

jerk her away.


The pipes smash to a stop.
It's Domingo. He probably just saved Kiryu's life -- but without

thanking him, she pulls free and goes back to work.


26 INT. FOUNDRY
A white-hot ingot, circular and massive, is dropped into a quenching

tank. Steam blasts upward, drawing the attention of...


Grimes. He works near the blast furnaces, shoveling up warm slag like

a stable boy mucking stalls.


The cooled ingot is craned out of the quenching tank and dropped in

top-loading centrifuge. Airlock doors close. The centrifuge begins to

rotate.
Grimes follows other workers to observation windows that overlook

Earth.
27 EXT. BOTTOM OF SPACE STATION - DAY


Building speed, the centrifuge lowers from the station.
28 INT. FOUNDRY
A DETONATION rocks the foundry as...
29 EXT. BOTTOM OF SPACE STATION - DAY
The ingot is discharged. Twenty tons of spinning steel streaks toward

Earth.
30 INT. FOUNDRY


GRIMES

Holy... Where's it gonna hit?


WORKER

South China Sea. Ship picks it up.

Right angle, they only lose about 15

percent in the atmosphere.


Workers disperse. Grimes loiters, watching the ingot vanish.
GRIMES

Love to scream one of those fuckers

down on the ex-wife's apartment...
The barrel of a stitch rifle flicks his ear. The guard motions Grimes

back to work.


31 EXT. SPACE STATION - NIGHT
Burned gasses continue to belch from the central spire, blackening a

full moon.


32 INT. FOUNDRY
CLOSE on a small machine spitting out coins. They're crude and dark,

made of slag. But the logo is familiar. "Weylan-Yutani."


End-of-shift prisoners shuffle forward in line like the living dead,

faces blackened and haggard. Guards pay the workers with newly minted

coins. Styles is getting patted down by Daggs when...
AMPLIFIED VOICE

Prisoner M22197. Step out. Prisoner

M22197. Step out.
Prisoners look. No one steps forward.
AMPLIFIED VOICE

Second chance. Prisoner M22197. Step

out. Prisoner M221--
Suddenly one man bolts, running blindly.
Guards level tangle guns, stubby and twin-barrelled. MULTIPLE

DISCHARGES.


Bolo balls sling through the air...
And catch the man, orbiting him, cocooning him in steel filament. He

crashes to the floor ten steps from where he started his run. The

prisoner is Ivory.
STYLES

What's he volunteering for?


DAGGS

Been here a long time. Could be his

appeals finally crapped out. Funny

how they run like that.

(for Styles' sake)

Like someone could actually get off

this rock, huh?
33 INT. SECURITY CORRIDOR
Again chained together, the five new inmates drag-ass along a

corridor. They carry bedrolls. The block guard keys open a security

door and ushers them into...
34 INT. GUARD HOUSE
A circular control room. The walls are solid glass -- but, oddly, they

look out on nothing but solid wall.


BLOCK GUARD

Goin' my way?


CONTROL GUARD

(running switches)

Down it is.
The guard house begins dropping -- and now the windows fill with the

rising cell block. It's a staggering sight: We're in the middle of an

immense cylinder, cells ringing the perimeter, inmates roaming like

lost animals. Tier after tier rise past the windowed walls -- and it's

all the same.
DOMINGO

Fuckin' Mother of God...


Finally the guard house stops. Security door opens. The block guard

unchains the inmates -- then backs off. This is as far as he goes.


STYLES

Which cell?


BLOCK GUARD

Any one you can find.


35 INT. MIDDLE TIER - CELL BLOCK
The new inmates step onto a walkway. The door locks behind them. Kiryu

peers down the foot-wide crack between walkway and guard house.


HER POV: The bottom of the cell block lost in shadow. How many more

tiers can there be?


GRIMES

I think there's been a mistake.


VAN BRUNT

What, you're not really guilty?


GRIMES

Oh, I'm guilty. Just not this

guilty.
The new inmates push ahead.
THEIR POV: An inmate brushing his teeth in a toilet. Graffiti-scarred

walls. A gang of females rousting a male inmate. A jogger using the

circular walkway for a lap track. At least three inmates per cell. No

open bunks.


Two JOY BOYS in codpieces pass. They touch Domingo seductively. He

bats their hands away. They laugh and blow kisses.


THEIR POV: Blacks in shower caps playing dominoes. Inmates with bio-

electric tattoos. A narcotized guy trying to peel the walls. A man and

woman pulling a stand-up fuck. Inmates watching baseball on a caged

monitor.


ANNOUNCER (V.O.)

...so far this year, the Yanks are

13 and 12, three of those victories

big ones coming on the road against

Tokyo, Nagoya, and Osaka. And

Tuesday night's game with the

Hitachi Indians looms as a pivotal

one...
New inmates Stop. They've circled the entire tier and haven't found an

open cell.
VOICE

No luck, huh?


They look. The voice belongs to BELLHOP, an ingratiating maggot of a

man.
BELLHOP

Vacancies are hard to come by in

this hotel.


STYLES

But I bet you know where some are.


BELLHOP

Several. Happy to take you there.

For two slags.
DOMINGO

Hey. Dickwipe. Fuck you, awright? I

just spent maybe twelve hours

cuttin' hot pipe, and for that they

pay me five coins. Now you want two?

Fuck you dead, man. From both ends.


But Styles flips Bellhop a coin.
STYLES

Show us.

(to Domingo)

My throw.


36 INT. STAIRCASES - CELL BLOCK
Zig-zagging, Bellhop leads the new inmates down through the cell

block. They pass tier after tier.


BELLHOP

...little Wild Eye, Hash Mash,

smokes with six percent real tobacco

-- you just let me know. Watch this

step here, bit loose. Comin' up on

lockdown -- I strongly urge that you

not be caught outside your cell.

Right this way, not much further

now...
GRIMES

Much lower, man, we're gonna drop

out the ass-end of this thing.
37 INT. BOTTOM TIER - CELL BLOCK
They reach the bottom. This is it. Dungeon-level.
BELLHOP

And here we are. First Floor.


New inmates look around. Several cells are free.
DOMINGO

So what the shit's wrong with it?


BELLHOP

Pardon?
DOMINGO

How come rest ot the place is full,

but this isn't? How come?


BELLHOP

Well, it's closer to the gravity

generators, so you're a couple

pounds heavier, little more

sluggish. And the light isn't what

it should be.


That's all. They inspect the cells. Bunks have springs. Grimes kick-

starts a toilet. It actually flushes.


STYLES

(to Bellhop)

That's all, huh?
BELLHOP

They're nice rooms. Really. Can't do

better than these.
Styles flips him the second coin. Not wasting any time, Bellhop heads

back to the stairs.


DOMINGO

Rats. Got big fuckin' rats down

here, doncha?
BELLHOP

(oddly)


Oh, no. You'll have no problems with

rats.
He's gone. Styles and Van Brunt settle into the first cell. Grimes

takes the second, Domingo the third. Kiryu is left to choose between

bunking with the rapist Grimes or killer Domingo. She chooses Domingo.


GRIMES

Thanks, cunt.


38 INT. STYLES' CELL
Styles is taking a sink-bath, trying to wash away the limestone and

the whole day. PIPES KNOCK, and the faucet sputters dry. He wasn't

close to finishing.
39 INT. BOTTOM TIER - CELL BLOCK
Air-drying, Styles walks the tier with Van Brunt. Other inmates here

seem to be the runts and whack-outs of the prison:


The HIKER, a paraplegic who walks only with the aid of a motorized

backpack that "walks" his legs for him...


A man thin enough to be a human X-RAY...
The GASHER, a self-mutilating woman who notches her skin with a

shank...


STYLES

Quite a neighborhood.


And the ABORIGINE, a dreadlocker who paints his cell wall with

primitive drawings. The drawings seem to be of an animal. But before

Styles can get a closer look...
BLOCK VOICE

Lockdown. 30 seconds to lockdown.


40 INT. CELL BLOCK
SELECTED SHOTS of inmates grabbing belongings and moving for stairs

and cells.


BLOCK VOICE

Lockdown. 20 seconds to lockdown.


41 INT. STYLES' CELL
BLOCK VOICE

Lockdown. 10 seconds to lockdown.


Styles and Van Brunt crab-step inside just as the door closes. Around

the cell block, we hear DOORS THUNDERING SHUT.


BLOCK VOICE

Lockdown complete.


42 INT. CELL BLOCK
A WHISTLE sounds. Entry doors open, and unleashed guard dogs stream

into the block. Searching tor loose inmates, the dogs race around the

tiers...
...zig-zag down stairs...
...flood the lower tiers...
43 INT. GRIMES' CELL
...and appear here. One dog stops at Grimes' cell. It almost looks

friendly.


GRIMES

Hey, dog.


It lunges, slamming into the bars and nearly taking out Grimes'

throat.
GRIMES

Shit. Lassie get the fuck home, huh?

Get the hell outta here.


44 INT. CELL BLOCK
Circling like a glass carousel, the guard house rises, pushed upward

by one massive steel piston. Soon it vanishes, embedded in the

ceiling.
45 INT. CELL BLOCK
As all lights extinguish.
46 INT. DOMINGO'S CELL
Later. Domingo wakes. The bunk is rocking. "What the hell?" Small

MOANS and GASPS from beneath him -- from Kiryu. Domingo grins, taking

the sounds for autoerotic. Figuring he can be of assistance, he eases

off his bunk.


And finds sharp metal thrust under his chin.
Kiryu holds a bed strut, worked free of the bunk. That's what she

was doing.


DOMINGO

Just thought maybe you was --


KIRYU

I know what you were thinking. Now

get away before I bury this in your

worthless pygmy brain.


He backs off -- then snatches the shank away.
For a beat Domingo just stares, and the only question is whether he'll

rape her before or after he cuts open her throat. But then Domingo

eases back onto his bunk and lies down.
47 INT. STYLES' CELL
Glow-worms dot the ceiling like stars. One falls...
...and lands on Styles. He brushes it away and tries to get back to

sleep but can't: The night sounds of the prison -- SOBBING, FLUSHING

TOILETS, BARKING DOGS -- fill his ears. He rolls away from VIEW.
But a new SOUND rolls him back. This doesn't come from above like the

other sounds. This seems to come from...

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