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by Michael Hicks Thompson (michael@shepherdkingpublishing.com)

Rated: PG-13   Genre: Action/Adventure   User Review:

When the world is brought to its knees by a water shortage, a tenacious scientist fights corporate greed, and for her life, to prove that oceanic cloud seeding can provide "free" water.

This screenplay is copyrighted to its author. All rights reserved. This screenplay may not be used or reproduced without the express written permission of the author.

POV from tree looking down on village. So much dust that the
air itself takes on a rich caramel hue. Jeeps with machine
gunners and a water wagon zoom underneath, dust billowing,
headed down to village. POV comes down out of the tree and
walks toward village, hiding behind a scrub bush watching
the action below. Villagers with coins and barter items rush
out to meet water wagon. Chaos. Two overly aggressive
villagers are shot and killed. Crowd falls back in fear, but
rushes right back over the dead bodies to the spigot. All
over in 2 minutes as jeep guards fire guns, signaling the
end of transactions, and the convoy bolts.
ROLL CREDITS. Late afternoon. POV is from the back seat of a
taxi, riding through a nice neighborhood of Georgetown.
Every bush, every leaf of vegetation is dry and shriveled.
Dust sticks to windshields, cars, everything. In the back
seat is GRAYSON FIELDS, Ph.D.,30ish, scholarly, but
attractive. She stares at the passing scenery,
Suddenly, her driver brakes. Grayson Fields sees an AMERICAN
H2O water truck blocking the street. Men toting side-arms
are guarding the truck. Other men are delivering five-gallon
water bottles up the brownstones' steps. Neighbors are
bargaining with truck drivers, willing to pay extra for more
water. The bargaining is civil, but intense.

Taxi driver makes a move, slips past the truck. Coming out
of the neighborhoods is a large LCD screen advertisement for
JALA WORLDWIDE WATER with its, "Purest Water In The World"
slogan. Then an EXXON fuel station POLE SIGN which reads:
PETRO $7.79, BIO $12.59, BOTTLED WATER $13.

Approaching an up-ramp, she sees a family living underneath
the freeway in a make-shift tin/cardboard hut. Outside the
sitting on worn out nylon chairs.
Pull over.
Are you sure, ma'am?
No. But do it anyway.


Driver looks in his rear-view mirror at her, concerned, but
pulls over.
They back up on the side of the road, next to the family.
Traffic continues by.
Here. Stop here.
She stares at the man and woman, wondering if she should
help them. She grabs two bottles of JALA brand water from
her seat, opens the door, steps out a couple feet, pauses,
looks closer at the family, and sees some children inside
the hut; she turns back to the taxi, reaches in and
retrieves a 6-Pack of JALA water. She starts walking towards
the family again.
                       PREGNANT WOMAN
Are you the one to make it rain?
Are you the one to make it rain?
She's crazy.
Grayson approaches the family, feeling a bit out of her
comfort zone. She holds out the 6-pack of water bottles in
one hand and two more bottles in the other.
                       PREGNANT WOMAN
Are you the one to make it rain?
No, I don't think so. I just
wanted you to have this water.
I was rich once.
The man reaches out for the water.
I had money once.
Grayson goes back to the car and pulls a twenty out of her
purse. Takes it to them.
                       PREGNANT WOMAN
Are you the one to make it rain?
Grayson goes back, slides in and they leave.


A moment later, Grayson pays the taxi driver and walks a
path through the campus. She sees professor TIMOTHY
SWARTZKOPH ahead, on a bench. He's 65, thick white hair,
professor of Hydrology at American University in D.C. She
I thought you might pick this
                       THE PROFESSOR
How did you know that?
Grayson notices that the bench is covered in GREEN POLLEN,
which the professor is oblivious to. He sees that she sees
it, wipes across it, and holds up a green finger to her.
                       THE PROFESSOR
Well...it seems winter's water has
broken...and given birth to
As he uses a handkerchief to wipe the pollen off her seat,
I'm afraid there won't be many
more births of any kind unless
this water crisis is fixed.
She sits.
                       GRAYSON (CONT'D)
How did I know about this place?
Oh, because you always met here
with students failing your class.
                       THE PROFESSOR
But, dear, you weren't a failer.
Quite the contrary.
I feel like one now.
                       THE PROFESSOR
Oh, but you were one of my star
pupils. Now tell me. What's
bothering you?
Remember the lab class where you
built the cloud simulator?


                       THE PROFESSOR
Ahh, that crude bugger. Not much
use in the end.
But you DID make rain.
                       THE PROFESSOR
Yes, I suppose. But it wasn't
successful for it's intended
But you came so close.
                       THE PROFESSOR
I tried for two years.
Maybe you should try again.
                       THE PROFESSOR
Try it again?
The professor looks intrigued by the idea, and Grayson dare
not say another word as she realizes he might just give it
another go.


They're in an old lab. A larger room than normal for a
laboratory, because there's a crude looking table in the
middle with a land mass that represents Manhattan. There are
dry river and ocean beds, the Statue of Liberty (with very
low water surrounding Ellis Island), and minature buildings
on Manhattan that make the whole scene look like a
sophisticated train set, only without the trains. An
aluminum frame surrounds the entire table and over the top,
15 feet high.

Grayson is jacking her computer into the professor's server.
He's checking instrument panels and monitoring the water
being pumped into the dry ocean bed. The system powers up
and they look at each other with anticipation.
                       THE PROFESSOR
Can you manage the canopy? It's in
that closet, there.
Grayson opens the closet and finds a huge folded up clear
plastic canopy. Using ladders, she needs his help to stretch
it over the top. They tie it down to hooks in the floor.
Grayson takes the ladder inside, sets it up on the table and


climbs up to the huge sun light at the top. The professor
flips a switch, and Grayson almost falls off from being so
close to what feels and looks like the power of the sun. She
and the professor begin to sweat profusely. Water has now
covered the dry river and ocean beds. The professor uses an
elongated pole and adjusts the nozzles around the perimeter.
Well, think we can do it?
The professor's eyes light up with new-found adventure.
                       THE PROFESSOR
Let's see if we can make it rain
over New York City.
Should we use the same formula?
                       THE PROFESSOR
I made a few changes. The
important thing will be the wind
nozzle rate. Are you set?
I think so.
The professor moves over to a ten gallon container, opens
the lid, dips out several scoops of dry crystals, pouring
each into a stainless steel mixer. Another plastic container
lid is popped off and more dry chemicals are added to the
mixer. Then a jar of red liquid iodide is measured and
poured in. Finished, the professor turns to Grayson.
                       THE PROFESSOR
Ready to run the program?
Grayson is so nervous, she just nods. She pushes one key on
her laptop. Spray comes out from nozzles located just above
the base. These are chemicals that help the cloud grow
faster. They're sweating from the bright sun lamp and
watching evaporation take place over the water. It grows
into a cloud. Bigger. Bigger. Then the professor turns a
handle and the nozzles at the top of the tent spray out a
reddish color mist into the cloud. The cloud almost
immediately starts to grow and crackle with lightening. They
move back a little. Then larger lightening strikes. They
move back farther. The cloud grows and the professor
gradually turns up the fans that simulate air moving into
land on a late afternoon. The cloud moves towards NYC.
Closer and closer. But then releases it's rain water before
reaching land. The professor and Grayson are dejected.


I'm sorry. I must have
miscalculated the nozzle rate.
Should I write a variable search
program until I get it right?
                       THE PROFESSOR
Oh, not yet. We shouldn't be too
disappointed. It's a trial and
error procedure.
The professor invites her to sit down. He wants to talk
about something else.
                       THE PROFESSOR (CONT'D)
Come, sit...Now young lady, you
need to tell me what you've gotten
yourself into. What's this all
Honestly...I'm just trying to
figure out how cloud-seeding --
your OCEANIC cloud-seeding -- can
create free water for everyone.
                       THE PROFESSOR
What branch is backing you?
                       THE PROFESSOR
The CIA? The White House? Who?
I promise you, I'm on my own.

My parents...I'm just trying to
finish what they knew was right.
They stare at each other.
                       THE PROFESSOR
I knew them you know. Good
scientists. Good people. Did the
authorities ever solve the, the--
--their murders? No.


                       THE PROFESSOR
My dear Grayson, I'm afraid you
are swimming in much more
dangerous waters than they did.

I'm sorry, but you've come to the
wrong person for help.
You're the only one that can help.
                       THE PROFESSOR
We're dealing with old technology.
And this gray hair has given me
the experience to know that I
don't have a chance against
private industry. They have the
money. We don't. It's that simple.
Exactly. But what if we could get
the money for a new simulator? The
latest technology. Then how
interested would you be?
                       THE PROFESSOR
Well, we would need a new
algorithm for any new technology.
I would need to know all the specs
of the nozzle flow rates, size of
the scale, air, humidity, all of
But you could do it, right? If I
can get the money.
They stare at each other. The professor, contemplative.
Grayson walks into her spacious, but sparsely decorated
apartment. Three computer screens are arranged haphazardly
on a desk, surrounded by stacks of paper that cascade in an
almost unbroken river from the desk to the table, chairs,
and floor. Notebooks on the desk include covers with logos
for NASA, Symbiotic H, American H2O, and Jala Worldwide.

She types out an email to STEVE MULLER, CEO, JALA WORLDWIDE.


"Steve, I need your advice. Can you talk, say, tomorrow? Is
that possible?"
Grayson showers and dresses in men's boxers and an
over-sized t-shirt. She paces back and forth, contemplating
the PAPERS in each hand, and the SCREENS on her computer.
She checks email to see if Muller replied. Nothing.

Then her phone rings. Caller ID reveals "Private Caller."
Grayson, why didn't you just call
Steve!.... Well, honestly .... I
thought you might hang up.
Why would I do that?
A pause between them.
Because, you're still angry with
Grayson, yes, you walked out on me
without so much as a goodbye, and
no explanation. But, you know
what? My life has been a non-stop
roller coaster.
Steve...it was...it was just
getting too complicated.
I understand. You had your work, I
had mine.
Something like that.
Well, now that we're done with
that, tell me what you need.


Well, it's sort of complicated.
You know I have no patience for
complicated phone conversations.
Have dinner with me. We can talk
about it.
Long pause.
Okay ... thank you.
They hang up. She contemplates their past.
Soon, she sits down at the computer. There's a headline on
the screen about a worldwide drought--the worst in history.
She minimizes that page and starts running cloud-seeding
simulations, one after the other in rapid succession. Each
time, the computer clouds form over the ocean, produce
lightening, start to move towards land, but dump their water
in the ocean.
Think. Connect the dots.
She's tired. A large flat screen TV sits on a table in the
corner. A recorded NEWSCAST is playing at low volume. The
reporter is standing on dry lake bed south of Mackinac
Island. Beside him is a man with bar-b-que grill, cooking
hot dogs.
                       TV REPORTER
Randall Sweeney with WGLR TV
reporting from (looks over his
shoulder back at the island) well,
from south of Mackinac Island. I'm
standing on what's left of Lake
Michigan and Lake Huron. Here with
me is Bob Huggins, local resident
and Bar-B-Que expert.
POV pulls back to reveal a few more grillers along the dry
lake beds.
                       TV REPORTER
And with us are hundreds of
grillers like Bob. I've calculated
that the dry shore line of Lake
Michigan and Lake Huron
(INSERT GRAPHIC: Both lakes from
Google Earth showing the brown dry
bed out about 50 feet on all


                       TV REPORTER (cont'd)
which as you can see takes up the
equivalent of Indiana.
Back to TV Reporter Sweeney, as camera pulls back to reveal
grillers up and down the shoreline.
                       TV REPORTER (CON'T)
Our statistician has estimated
that the shores of the Great Lakes
could accommodate about fifteen
million Bar-B-Que grillers. So,
bring your grills, men and women,
and let's create the largest
Bar-B-Que ever. And--
As he keeps talking, Grayson's mini-outrage drowns him out.
Pitiful. Turn TV off. Play Swan
The television clicks off. Swan Lake plays in the

She sits at the computer, paces the floor, studies the
files. Finally, she drops the papers in her left hand and
picks up the packet on her desk. American Water. She sits
and starts tapping away on the keyboard. A series of graphs
flash one on top of the other. After a minute or so of
studying graphs and weather pictures, she mutters.
Dammit. Nothing.
The first glint of morning light comes into focus on the
brownstones of Georgetown. She logs off and closes all
computers. Exhausted, she crawls into bed. Sleep comes
quickly. So does her NIGHTMARE:
She dreams about sex with Steve Muller, with him repeatedly
saying "More treatment plants; more treatment plants,"
interjected with the pregnant woman asking, "Are you the one
to make it rain? Are you the one to make it rain?" Grayson
sees children, totally dehydrated, shriveled to skin and
bones. (much more morbid than the ones she actually saw
under the freeway). The husband is saying, "She's not right.
She's not right."


Grayson and STEVE MULLER are half way through dinner. In his
mid-40s, Muller is handsome, sexy, charming, and
trustworthy; but with a slight hint of avarice.

They're laughing about an old story.
Can you believe that?! It was the
craziest night of my life.
You're forgetting. I was there!
The waiter takes the empty entree plates.
Mr. Muller, would you and the
madam be looking at a dessert menu
Muller and Grayson look at each other. Both start laughing.
Then just smile at each other.
      (to waiter)
No thank you. After that story I
don't thing either of us is in the
mood for dessert.
They smile at each other.
Very good, sir.
The waiter walks off.
Okay, it's time you tell me. What
do you need help with?
Grayson pauses and leans in.
I was looking through my parent's
notes during their first Senate
Grayson, I was very fond of your
parents. I miss them, too.


I know you do. Anyway, I found
something that puzzles me.
Look, your parents meant well,
they did. But they were wrong. Our
government has screwed up every
private industry they've ever
nationalized. The government's
run-over with stupid bureaucrats.
You know that.
Just listen.
Grayson, all this talk about
nationalizing water doesn't make
sense any more. We have the best
solution. But, fine. If it makes
you happy to bring it back up
again, then...well,
Cloud seeding. It should be
working by now. They said fifteen
years ago that it would work.
But we went through all that. It's
not a viable option. We tried to--
--I know! But it can work. I know
it can. It has to do with
overloading the silver iodides
with the spray planes. I need a
The waiter steps in.
Another bottle of Hemmings, sir?
It was Opus. But no, I think we're
fine. Just bring the check if you
don't mind.
Very good, sir.


Waiter departs.
A WHAT? A stimulator? I think
you've thrown me a softball that
could open up a whole new
Grayson doesn't even smile at his remark.
It's a...you wouldn't understand.
No, look, it's a replica of ocean
and land that helps me simulate
different combinations of
chemicals in vitro to find the
right one.
The right one WHAT?
You've been sending sea planes out
to seed clouds. It's too time
consuming and too expensive to do
it that way. A simulator with the
right algorithm can cut the time
down from months, or years, to
weeks, or days, to find the right
chemical combination. Not even
China is up to speed on this.
Can't do it Grayson. We're
committed to building more
sophisticated treatment plants,
not some pie in the sky toys.
A pause as they stare at each other for a moment.
It wouldn't cost that much. And
it's not a toy.
Mind if we change the subject?
I'll bet you didn't know I was
receiving TIME's "Man of the Year"
A disappointed Grayson,


That's wonderful. When?
Friday. It's a surprise
announcement dinner.
Grayson now offers Steve a sincere, congratulatory look,
realizing that she cannot give up on persuading him to build
the simulator.
I'm really happy for you.
Grayson, I've done it right...
Listen to this. A year ago I
hired an MIT team to develop a new
membrane. We'll be able to convert
four times the amount of drinking
water, at mobile sites, and, in
half the time!
Steve, that's incredible. You have
every right to be proud.
Tom wants to call it Rapid Mobile
Jala Delivery. Not very sexy I'm
afraid. We could use some ideas.
Let me think on it.

How IS Tom?
He's fine. Better than fine.
Bringing in some huge contracts.

Grayson, look, I want you to be
with me at the dinner.
I don't know...maybe it's not such
a good idea.
Muller folds his napkin and looks ready to leave.
I have to go. I'm meeting with
Senator Weinhold for drinks. I
turned him down for dinner


                       MULLER (cont'd)
tonight, so...well, you know. But
look, for the TIME'S dinner, I'll
send a driver at 6:30. Okay?
Grayson smiles, non-committal. Muller puts his reading
glasses in his coat pocket, but has one more thing to say.
Muller standing now, leaning down to Grayson.
Grayson, we're now the largest
corporation in the world. Our
treated water is the answer to the
water problems.
Somewhere I read that money is the
root of all evil.
Not any more. The need for water
Muller just smiles at her, and leaves. She stays, and pulls
out of her PURSE an iPAD.
                       GRAYSON (mumbling)
The love of money is the root of
all evil.
As she stares at the screen, an old video begins to play.
A panel of four people at a sparsely attended meeting. Looks
like a congressional hearing room. Grayson, a TEENAGER in
this video clip, sits in the audience directly behind a MALE
panelist. Grayson is vigorously writing in a notebook during
the testimony. The audio quality is sketchy.
                       SEN. BYERS
Dr. Fields, do you have any
further testimony you would like
to share before we adjourn?
The question is directed to a man seated in front of
Grayson. He takes off his glasses, places them slowly on the
table and stands up. Placing both palms on the table, he
leans slightly forward. He looks like the typical rumpled


                       DR. FIELDS (exasperated)
Honorable Congressmen, these are
not questions I mull in my spare
time. Matters such as these
consume my every waking moment. I
have committed 3 decades of my
life to diligently analyzing our
long-term water issues. I have
spent countless hours

(audio becomes barely

..like Sky Seed, American Water,
and Aquanina. And I can tell you,
none of them is in business to
solve the crisis, only for the
almighty dollar. American Water
seems especially e (garbled)... in
cloud-seeding R&D. There is only
one solution. Extensive government
investment in advanced
desalination and cloud-seeding
research. (indecipherable)...hope
someone more compelling than I
will make this case to you again
before the consequences are
                       SEN. BYERS
Dr. Fields, thank you for your
time. It is still the opinion of
this committee that the solution
to our problems are--
Grayson taps the screen and rewinds the video a few seconds
because she can't make out her father's last statements.
                       DR. FIELDS
      (replaying video)
... American Water seems
(garbled)...invest in
cloud-seeding R&D. And I can tell
you (not decipherable)....There is
only one solution. Extensive
government investment in advance
desalination and cloud-seeding
Grayson interrupts the video again and rewinds it. Now she
plugs in ear buds, as a WAITER walks up.


Madam, will there be anything else
for you?
Takes the ear buds out.
Oh, no. No thank you. Do you mind
if I just sit here for a few
The waiter looks around the crowded room, and back to her.
We seem to have another
reservation for this table ... if
you don't mind.
That's fine. I understand.
Grayson watches the waiter walk off, but pops the ear buds
in anyway and takes a quick listen.
                       DR. FIELDS
      (replaying video
       third time)
..."American Water is especially
egre(garbled)...invest in
cloud-seeding. And Jala Worldwide
is certainly in the
Grayson hits a button on the side of the tablet, switching
off the screen as she tucks the tablet in her bag and walks
decisively out of the restaurant.

Vigorous trading activity involving water futures. The LED
monitor above the traders reads: ISE-B&S Water Index.
Trading is chaotic as buyers and sellers negotiate buy/sell
                       TRADER 1
Twenty one thousand, here! Twenty
one thousand! Eleven thousand
dollars, twenty one thousand
contracts, here!


                       TRADER 2
Sold! Twenty one thousand at
They exchange the paper slips, and Trader 1 keeps hawking
water contracts.
                       TRADER 1
I've got five hundred! Five
hundred. Eleven thousand two fifty
                       TRADER 3
Take it! Five hundred at eleven
two fifty per, right?
They exchange paperwork.
                                         CUT TO
Large Wall Street brokerage house floor. Two brokers at
computers. One says to the other,
                       BROKER 1
YES! YES! Hey, dumb fuck, I just
sold twenty one thousand water
futures! Shit...that's
(calculator) that's over four
million in commissions!
                       BROKER 2
Jim, did you see the report on
Jala's treatment facility? Here,
Jim looks over at Broker 2's computer terminal at an article
about a problem with Jala Worldwide Water's treatment plant
in Philadelphia.
                       BROKER 1
Shit. What's this supposed to
                       BROKER 2
It means your client is going to
be super pissed off. Look at the
big board. Futures are going to
plummet unless they can put some
fuckin' strong perfume on this.
                                         CUT TO


TOM HEWITT, president of Jala Worldwide, is in a Jala
helicopter. He's leaving the NY skyline behind, headed west.
Hewitt is 42, polished, "in charge". And on his cell.
Simpson, this is Tom Hewitt. I'm
on my way to Philadelphia right
now. I need you to give it to me
straight. How bad is it?
                       SIMPSON (OC)
Sir, I'm not going to sugar coat
it. The suspended growth systems
in the last six shipments were not
floced correctly.
Dammit, Simpson! Plain English!
Sir, The grease and oils weren't
properly removed in the secondary
treatment process. It's a problem
Damn, man, I know it's a problem.
Now how the hell are you gonna fix
We can fix it all right. Two days,
Not acceptable. Philadelphia will
be a PR disaster with congress.
I'll be there in an hour. I want
it fixed when I get there.
Sir, what should I do about the
six shipments? They're on our
trucks for the port.
      (Calmer now)
Who's the buyer?
I'm looking it up now...one


Hewitt turns to his assistant.
That firm in Phily. The PR firm.
Get the CEO on the phone!
Sir, it's headed for Senegal.
(Pause) Let it go.
                                         CUT TO
Muller's call connects with Hewitt.
Tom, what happened? I heard you're
going to Phily.
We have a little problem
with...with in the secondary
treatment process. I'll fix it.
Good. Guess what? Bio Equities
just bought two hundred and thirty
million dollars in futures!
They might live to regret that
decision if we can't get this
fixed. Steve, we also have a
problem with our Sacramento plant.
We're pushing too much through to
meet demand.
Send somebody else out there. I
was hoping you could be back here
for the dinner. I have a surprise
for you.
Hewitt's assistant interrupts him.
I have them on the phone, sir.
      (To Muller)
I'll see you later.


Hewitt hangs up, and takes his assistant's phone.
                       HEWITT (CON'T)
This is Tom Hewitt. With whom am I
speaking? (pause) His assistant?!
Tell him to call me ASAP!
Hewitt hangs up and speaks into his phone.
Call Sacramento plant.
Good afternoon, Jala Sacramento.
Kevin Hobbs, please. This is Tom
Mr. Hewitt, is he expecting your
I doubt it. Why don't you tell him
that Tom Hewitt, President of Jala
Worldwide, is on the phone for
Mr. Hewitt! I am so sorry, I had
Jennings. Jane Jennings.
Okay, Jane. You've done nothing
wrong...now, if you'd just get Mr.
Hobbs on the line.
Yes, sir. Right away.


Mr. Hewitt! What a pleasant
surprise. I'm sure you want me to
fill you in.
That's right, I'd like you to tell
me what's going on out there. Are
we having a secondary filtration
Sir, I believe we are. It just
started yesterday. Frankly, sir,
our production schedules are a bit
above our capacity to--
--to produce what we need? Is that
what you were going to tell me?
Hobbs if you had taken a look at
our Jala engineering posts
yesterday you would have seen that
we're having the same fuckin'
problem in Philadelphia...AND, you
could have averted this problem by
changing out the gasket. Now, I
imagine the membrane has
deteriorated, too.
My bad, sir...I...I guess I just
--you sure didn't, and you're
fired. Get your number two man on
the phone. Or is it a woman?
                                         DISSOLVE TO
Hewitt stepping out of helo, meeting Simpson at Phily plant.
No words are exchanged, they just hop in a golf cart and
head off into the massive complex.
I'm going to take you straight to
the problem, sir.
Hewitt's phone rings.


This is Hewitt. (listens). You're
my PR firm and I expect you to be
available, all times. Are you up
to speed on this? (pause) Good.
Here's what I want you to do.(long
pause) What? In Scottsdale? Stay
focused on Philadelphia, forget
Scottsdale. Got it? Now, send me a
one page brief on your plans, and
be sure to include how your
lobbyists are going to handle the
Senators. I want it in two hours.
                                         CUT TO
Scottsdale, Arizona. The poor residents are over-whelming
the wealthy neighborhoods, shooting residents, breaking into
homes, taking dozens of 10 gallon water containers.
                                         CUT TO
Small village in Africa. One tribe is over-taking a small
village and end up placing armed guards around the well's
spigot. Several local villagers are killed with spears and
arrows. Some with guns.
                                         DISSOLVE TO
The Jala Philadelphia plant. Hewitt and Simpson, and three
other men, are donning serious-looking gas masks and
chemical suits. They walk through a steel door into a giant
room with thousands of large pipes, and holding containers.
Men, also with masks and Bio-Haz suits, are working on a
large coupler between pipes. It's spewing some brown sludge
out of the damaged coupler.
Sir, this is the problem. The
gasket in the exchange filter has
deteriorated. X-rays also show a
deteriorated membrane inside. A
new one is being shipped now, as
we speak.
Damn. That's why it'll take two
Yes sir, I'm afraid so.


When did you last pull
Eighteen months ago. We've been
running twenty-four-seven, sir.
All are covered in brown sludge now.
Why didn't you shut it down?
We can't stop the flow of material
or all systems will grind to a
halt. The sludge will coagulate.
Coagulation will permeate the
entire system and--
--who's the trucking company?
It's coming by air. Germany.
Did you post this on our
engineering blog yesterday?
Yes, sir, I did. 0 five hundred.
I thought so. Now get me out of
                                         DISSOLVE TO
Muller's office is large, befitting the richest man in the
world. The most unique item is his fresh water aquarium
desk, complete with fish. Muller sits behind the swimming
fish. Hewitt and two other execs are in chairs, and on a
sofa. One of the walls is covered with a giant electronic
LED board, indicating facilities all over the world, with
water tankers on the move in various oceans. We join the
meeting in progress.


      (to one of his
No. We've solved that problem.
Thankfully, the PR firm came
Muller aims a laser pointer on the Himalayas.
                       MULLER (cont'd)
But THAT, gentlemen, is the next
big problem we have to solve. We
have to prove to congress once and
for all that the notion of
cloud-seeding is not a viable
option. We cannot afford for the
senate to vote for
Six failed experiments should have
done it.
                       EXEC 1
That's not what I'm hearing from
Weinhold. The committee is voting
in two weeks. He says it's a toss
I just might have an idea of how
we can fix the cloud-seeding
Muller is ready to end the meeting.
                       MULLER (cont'd)
Gentlemen, that should do it for
now. Tom, stay for a minute, would
Muller's assistant brings him a tux shirt, and Hewitt
watches Muller struggle with the studs.
Steve ... don't tell me you're
thinking of bringing Grayson into
this. She could screw it up for
Screw it up?


What if she figures out how to do
You mean solve the oceanic
cloud-seeding problem? Hell,
she'll never solve it. It doesn't
work, Tom. That's what YOU'VE said
for three years now.

Look, the deal you put together
with Kenya will add fifteen
percent -- overnight -- to our
revenues. What you did is what
counts. Let me take care of
Washington, you take care of
operations. Tom, listen to me,
we've been at this, what, ten
years now? It's time you were
promoted to CEO. I need to spend
more time on the hill anyway.
We'll talk about details later,
okay? I'm meeting Grayson at the
front steps. See you there, right?
Of course. Home to change first.
Steve....(they hug and break
off)...thank you. So, she decided
to go tonight?
Yep. Still loves me I guess.
And you?
I'll answer that one later. Right
now, we have a business to run.
Trust me on this one. If you bring
her back in she's going to fuck it
On the way out, Muller laughingly shrugs him off and points
to the Himalayas on the wall LED.
Tom, Tom, don't worry about
(Points to his head)


                       MULLER (cont'd)
I. Have. A. New. Plan.
Early evening. In front of the KENNEDY CENTER, Grayson steps
out of the sedan. Muller is waiting on her.
You look beautiful.
You look like TIME's "Man of the
They walk to the entrance.

Hundreds mill around at the reception, sipping Champagne.
Muller and Grayson weave their way through the crowd, Muller
accepting congratulations at every turn. In-between these
homages, he's whispering in her ear, and she in his.
Tom doesn't trust you.
No immediate response from Grayson, just smiles for all the
people congratulating Muller. Then,
Why not?
He thinks you can figure out the
solution to cloud-seeding.
I can.
Well, having you at the station is
the only way I can get congress
convinced that it DOESN'T WORK,
once and for all.
Then you'll need to build the
I'm thinking about it.


Grayson stares at him.
Muller just smiles.
                       GRAYSON (cont'd)
You son-of-a bitch.
My mother was a lady.
Then your father was a bastard.
Tom Hewitt steps in and interrupts.
Sorry, did I interrupt something?
Not at all. How are you, Tom?
Good. And you?
Without waiting for an answer, Tom turns his charm on a
circle of people next to them.
It'll be in India. At our
Himalaya station.
India? India is in...really bad
shape. I'd rather have it at the
Grayson, if you want a simulator
machine, or whatever you call it,
it'll be at our station in the
Himalayas. It's our cloud-seeding
base. Do you want it or not?
The lights in the great hall slowly dim, brighten, and dim
again, signifying that the dinner and presentation is about
to begin.
It's late night. SILHOUETTE OF A PERSON is skulking around
on a tiny house porch, looking in the windows. No lights,
just a moonbeam brightening the inside of the hut. The


silhouette opens a flimsy screen door and sneaks in.


The unrecognizable figure quietly slips into a bedroom,
where a man and woman are barely visible, sleeping. The
figure pauses, glances at both bodies and goes to one side.
The figure is an Indian boy, RINKU PATEL, about 15. He
reaches down and pulls on the man's arm, BROOKS TURNBULL.
Reverend Turnbull, wake up. It's
Rinku. Wake up.
What? Rinku?
Quickly, please, come with me.
Brooks eases out of bed to avoid waking Anna, but she
groans, and rolls over to see Brooks pulling on his
Where are you going? Is that
I don't know. I mean yes, it's
Rinku. I don't know what he wants.
I'll be back in a minute. Go back
to sleep.
Brooks follows Rinku outside.
Rinku, what is it? What happened?
I know the way to Putsung.
The village. The Tibetans. Coming
here for our well.
How do you know where it is?


Tonight, I overhead our leaders
talking about it.
Okay, tell me. No, write it down.
I'll get a pen and--
--No, I must go with you. You'll
never find it alone.
Brooks ponders.
Rinku, thank you, but I can not
take you with me. You're too
Sir...you, Anna, and the
girls...you're the only family I
have. If the Tibetans come here
they will kill all of us.
Together, we can show them how to
make their own water well.
Something's not right about this.
The girls. And Anna. I need you to
stay with them.
The only way for you to protect
them Reverend Turnbull is for you
to stop the Putsung from coming
Brooks closes his eyes for a moment, thinking, opens them
slowly. He's made his decision.
We need supplies.
I have them.
Brooks nods and smiles at Rinku's initiative.
Okay. I'll let Anna know.


You want me to get the supplies
and meet you back here?
Rinku heads off. Brooks heads back to the bedroom.
You're going to that other
village, aren't you?
Just a few days. You and the girls
will be fine, I promise.
Rinku. Can he stay with us?
I'm afraid he has to show me the
Brooks leans down over the bed and kisses Anna.
Please be careful.
Brooks throws some clothes into a book bag, and reaches for
the PITCHER OF WATER on a side table. He picks it up and
swishes it around to determine the amount of water in it. He
turns to look at Anna, sleeping. He pours a small amount
into a canteen, and puts it in his bag. He slips into the
girl's room, kisses each on the cheek as they sleep.

He leaves and meets Rinku outside. Rinku is looking at a
crudely drawn map, then shows it to Brooks.
I drew a map.
Are you sure?
Yes sir, I think so.
You think so? This looks like two

Can you speak their language?


Yes sir.
Then let's get going.
They walk off into total darkness.
                                         DISSOLVE TO
Sunrise. Brooks and Rinku are dirty and exhausted, twenty
feet up in a thick tree, sleeping in mesh hammocks. Dust,
air, and light wind are a cocktail.
Both are asleep as the sun rises and reveals a village in a
small barren valley below their tree. Big, nasty FLIES are
everywhere...one lands on Rinku's nose. POV is now from the
fly, as we see Rinku's eyes in eight facets staring at us,
followed by a big hand coming at slow-motion speed towards

SFX: Whap!

The fly escapes. But Rinku's nose-slap wakes Brooks.
What? What was it?
A fly.
You get him?
No sir.
A pause as Brooks stretches and enjoys a good yawn.
Ahhhh. Not too bad for a night's
Maybe for you. (pause)

When do we get out of this


High-rise? I'll say one thing for
the missionary who came before
me....he taught you lots of
Reverend Martin taught me more
than English. He saved my life.
How do you mean?
When my parents died, he took me
in. I lived with him. He taught me
about Jesus.
He was a good man.
The best. He taught me
'Tis better to stay away from a
foolish man, for you will not find
knowledge on his lips.
                       BROOKS (laughing)
Ahhh, good. But I believe that's
from Proverbs.
Brooks stares at Rinku. TEARS form in Brooks' eyes. Rinku
just smiles. They have built an undeniable bond.
I guess now's as good a time as
Brooks slowly lowers his head, and holds the position.
You going back to sleep?!
No reaction from Brooks for 10 seconds. Rinku looks worried.


      (raising his head)
I was asking God to protect us,
and be successful.
You feel confident this is the
right village?
Rinku checks his crude map.
Accordion to this it is.

Well let's get on with it.
As they untie and pack their hammocks, a jeep with
machine-gunners and then a water wagon, zoom underneath
their tree, headed to the village below. Brooks and Rinku
climb down, and without a spoken word, start walking but
quickly hide behind a scrub bush to remain out of sight.

Behind the bush, they notice several things. They can see
SICK PEOPLE on the ground outside the village. People come
out in droves, far too many for the small amount of water.


The men manning the jeep are Arabian pirates with weapons.
Vigorous barter activity kicks into high gear. PUSHING,
SHOVING, SCREAMING, FIGHTING to exchange anything and
everything for the water--money, handmade baskets, jewelry,
and cloth. Brooks and Rinku stop and watch, stunned. The
water sale is negotiated with ruthless precision. The WATER
SELLERS SHOOT and kill two unruly NEGOTIATORS. A hose fills
several containers. In two minutes the sellers' business is
done, the machine-gunners fire rounds in the air signaling
the end of the transactions, and the Jeep accelerates out of
sight in a cloud of dust.
Now it's time to negotiate. May
God protect us.
                                         DISSOLVE TO


Moments later, Brooks, sitting on a tree stump, is trying to
converse with the village leader, TAHIR. Rinku is
translating. Dirty, sickly villagers are walking in the b.g.
The two dead NEGOTIATORS are being carried off for burial.
Tahir. His name is Tahir. He is
the village circle leader.
Ask him what his name
means--Tahir. What's it mean?
Without even turning to ask Tahir, Rinku gives Brooks the
His name means "holy one."
Brooks slowly turns from staring at Tahir, to Rinku.
Ask him why so many are dead, here
in his village.
(Why so many dead here in your
(The disease. Jala no good.)
He says the disease. Jala source
is no good.
Ask him if his raiding party has
already left for Diyun.
What you mean by "party"?
I mean (beat) warriors. When did
they leave for Diyun?
(When did your warriors leave for


                       TAHIR (confused)
(Know nothing of what you speak)
                       RINKU (puzzled)
He knows nothing of what you talk
Ask him if he knows anything about
our village, Diyun.
(What do you know about the
village, Diyun?)
(I know nothing of Diyun.)
                       RINKU (concerned)
He doesn't know Diyun.
                       BROOKS (confused)
Doesn't know Diyun? What? Oh, my
God, Rinku. Ask him again. Make
(Holy One, are you certain you
know nothing of Diyun?)
Tahir shakes his head, side to side.
Oh, my God, we're in the wrong
village! I've got to go back!
Anna. The girls!
Brooks jumps up looking for a direction to run.
How can that be?
Rinku pulls out his map.
I thought...


It's okay. But I have to leave.
You stay here.
Wait. I can run much faster. You
will only slow me down.
Ohh, my God, what have I done?
I leave now!
Wait. Let me think.
Reverend Turnbull. I will go in
half the time. I will bring them
back. I promise.
You're probably right. But you
must just get them out. Only them.
Wait! I need five minutes to write
a note to Anna about this.
He changes his mind.
                       BROOKS (Con't)
No, just go! ....Rinku. Run hard.
Rinku takes off. Tahir has a tired, but puzzled face.

Brooks paces. Tahir is concerned for him, but can't
communicate. Speaks in local Tibetan, but Brooks can't
understand a word.
Is there anyone here who speaks
English? E n g l i s h! Or
Hindi!!.... Hindi.... No Hindi?
Tahir just stares at Brooks. Brooks takes off to find
someone who understands him. On his rounds of the village he
becomes appalled. Seeing a horribly diseased, disfigured man
lying outside his hut, Brooks pukes. He looks close to
breaking down into a heap of despair; but gathers himself
and keeps walking. More sick people.


                       BROOKS (shouting)
Does anyone here speak English?!
Rinku could not be running any faster. Like a Gazelle
jumping, dodging, skipping through the trees. No sign of
slowing down.
Brooks is balled up in a fetal position, sobbing. An elderly
woman, MADAN, comes up to him.
You speak English?
Brooks slowly unfolds, and their eyes meet. Tears in his,
nothing in hers.
Yes. Please. You (beat) speak
Little is better than none.
She turns and walks off. Brooks jumps to his feet.
No, wait. I'm sorry. I must have
insult---I must have confused you.
You speak English, right?
Right on.
Brooks takes a moment to appreciate the irony.
                       BROOKS (under his breath)
Oh my goodness. Black
Madan. Love, passion.


It's a beautiful name.
Brother Green. He give to me.
Brother Green. Okay. So. There
have been missionaries here.
Moment of awkward silence between them.
                       BROOKS (Con't)
Sorry, my head is sort of spinning
right now.
Right on!
Look, I don't know where to start.
Let me ask this. Is Brother Green
here now? Where Green?!
Madan points to a cemetery on the hill.
                       MADAN (Con't)
Green there.
What happened?
How did he die? How dead?
Disease. You see? You like see?
Brooks nods "yes."
They take off together. She smiles at him. Meanwhile,
Rinku tumbles down a 30 meter cliff to a dry riverbed, and
immediately sees a dozen EMACIATED ANIMALS everywhere.

He freezes for a few seconds, long enough for all the
animals to start walking toward him. He struggles to climb


back up the cliff. The animals now gathered below his POV.
Reaching the top, he lays down to rest, exhausted.
Madan and Brooks walk to a make-shift hospital.
Wretched-looking, before they even enter. She takes out a
used face mask from a bucket, gives it to Brooks, and picks
one for herself.
No go near. Breathe only little.
Brooks' saucer-sized eyes look at her like she's out of her
They walk into what a Civil War infirmary ward must have
looked like, only worse. The disfigured bodies don't look
like human beings at all. Eye lids are turning inward, faces
are giant boils, bubbly, oozing something. Brooks doesn't
speak for at least a half a minute.
Did Green die like this?
Get me out of here.
You leave now?
Yes! Now!
Outside, Brooks rips off his mask and pukes.
No jala. Fruit.
No water?!
Madan steps beside the tent and brings out a strange-looking
fruit. He looks at the fruit for a few seconds, takes a
bite, and swallows. Horrible. He spits it out and covers his
mouth. Thinks about puking but doesn't.


                                         CUT TO
Rinku is running hard, ducking, jumping, and dodging limbs,
logs, and a dry creek bed. He's exhausted, dirty, and
sweating profusely. But he doesn't let up.
Rinku is moving through the dusty, bone dry brush and
dried-up forest at a good clip when he sees something that's
not right. At first the moonlight reveals a FEW MEN IN
WARRIOR PAINT, crouched down behind trees. They're on the
wrong side of the trees to be Diyun lookouts. He slowly goes
to a low position, lower, lower, listening. He hears them
speaking Tibetan. Sweat begins to pour down his face.
Nothing happens for a few seconds. Then all hell erupts, as
Rinku watches in horror as HUNDREDS OF WARRIORS race down to
the village. His village. He hears Puzung "DEATH SCREAMS"
before they reach the village. Two Tibetan men fall in a
Cobra pit.
Rinku witnesses the killing of his entire village, including
Brooks's wife and daughters. POV follows smoke rising into
the sky.
                                         DISSOLVE TO
MATCH CUT from the rising smoke and ashes to TILT DOWN on
Brooks, still in the "village of death", on his knees,
screaming at the heavens.
Rinku, where are you?! Anna!
                                         CUT TO
Rinku slowly crawls backwards, the sight of Anna and the
girls still haunting him as he continues to stare at what's
left of the funeral pyre.
                                         DISSOLVE TO
RINKU RUNNING BACK TO BROOKS. Two days of travel from Diyun
to Putsung and Rinku looks half dead, hardly able to walk
into Brooks' arms. Both hug and cry. He holds Rinku out at
arms length to look into his eyes. He sees what Rinku is
unable to tell him. Brooks instinctively knows he will never
see his wife and children again. He pulls Rinku to his
chest. Tears are streaming down Brooks' and Rinku's faces as
they each stare off into the distance.
We're going home. To London.


SUPER: Two weeks later

Muller and Hewitt on Jala's G-20 Gulfstream, headed for the
Weinhold is on board. So is
Barber, Tamuchi, and Perez. That
makes four of the eight committee
members. I'm working on Chandler.
Five million in security bonds to
his mother's account in
Switzerland. He'll come--
--Tom, Tom, all of this pay off,
it's not necessary. Grayson's
experiments will fail, and the
committee will NOT recommend
nationalization. I thought we had
talked about this.
Steve, we agreed that you would
press the flesh while I take care
of running the business.
That's not exactly what we talked
about. I'm going to spend more
time on the hill, and you're going
to be running the plants, and the
sales. Tom, I don't want us to go
any farther with this bribe crap.
It doesn't make sense.
Muller is offered a drink from one of the beautiful flight
                       MULLER (CON'T)
Scotch, neat. Thank you.
It does if you realize Grayson
could figure out the solution.
Tom, we've tried it, and tried it.
You were there. You've said
yourself it doesn't work. How
could she possibly figure out what


                       MULLER (cont'd)
a dozen NASA scientists and
government hydrologists haven't
been able to solve? Impossible.
Now Hewitt orders a drink.
Bring me a gin and tonic.
                       HEWITT (CON'T)
I'm not willing to take the
Well I am.
And as my older STEP brother,
you've always been willing to see
your side but not mine.
For God's sake, Tom. Let's not go
there again. We're kings of the
world. You and I are two of the
wealthiest people on earth. Why
take a chance to screw it up.
Exactly! That's exactly my point.
What I'm doing is buying
insurance. You're crossing your
fuckin' fingers.
The flight attendants bring the drinks.
Rear of the jumbo jetliner. Most passengers are sleeping.
Lightning bolts illuminate the cabin. Grayson sleeps, curled
up, fourth seat from the back. She's beautiful, but with a
scholarly air about her. More flashes and turbulence wake
her. Other passengers are shaken. She notices an African man
(Brooks),sitting across the aisle, reading a book. Next to
him is a 15-year old Indian boy (Rinku Patel), sleeping.

POV slowly pulls back up the aisle toward the cockpit.
Steady lightning show now. And the ride is getting bumpier.
Passengers are waking up as we continue to PULL BACK. More
shaking and vibrating.


The plane is now bouncing violently.
Where the hell did THIS crap come
                       CO-PILOT (pointing)
Jim! Look!
The pilot is amazed at the outside WIND VELOCITY SCALE,
climbing to over 150 kilometers per hour.
What the....?
Co-pilot reaches for the cabin intercom speaker.
All overhead lights come on as the cabin speakers crackle.
Ladies and gentlemen, I want
everyone in their seats
immediately. Secure your seat
belts, and return seat-backs and
tray tables.
A flight attendant hangs up her phone and turns to two other
                       FLIGHT ATTENDANT
Secure the carts, and get to a
seat. Now!
The plane's autopilot goes into ALARM (SFX). The pilot grabs
hold of the plane's tiny wheel. A calm, "unaware of the
circumstances" Indian voice comes into their headphones.
                       DISPATCHER (Filtered)
Eight-sixty-four, this is Calcutta
dispatch. We have a report from
Delta ten-twenty-two of severe
turbulence, repeat, severe
turbulence at forty thousand feet
in your sector.


No shit!
The instrument panel is vibrating into a blur of red
Then a very brilliant LIGHTNING STRIKE hits.


At the same time, the plane is hit with so much turbulence,
it rolls over, 360 degrees. POV from the co-pilot shows one
third of the starboard wing missing. The plane takes a
violent dive. Both pilots are silent as they fight to
control the AIRBUS' 40 degree dive.
Passengers are screaming, papers are flying, all oxygen
masks drop.
Our POV changes to outside, watching the plane go down in a
rapid free-fall, looking like a one-winged silver bird
falling through a waterfall. Then it rips apart.

Bodies and debris are flying out of the plane's front half.
The rear tail section goes in the water backwards. A huge

A turbulent ocean.
Grayson, still strapped into her seat, is UNDER WATER,
drowning. Eyes are wide open as the last few bubbles emerge
from her lips. Bathed in a calm blue, her body sinks slowly.

From the surface, Brooks reaches down into the water, grabs
the seat, pulls her out of the water, and into a life
raft--seat and all.
Seas are rollicking. Winds howling. Rain smothers everyone.
Brooks unbuckles her, rolls her over in the raft, and tosses
the seat overboard. The scene is lit by burning oil slicks.
Rinku crawls with urgency over to Brooks, who is now purging
the water out of Grayson.

Brooks notices a nasty scratch on her forehead, just under
her hairline. Brooks blows, backs off, pushes on her chest,
blows again, backs off, pushes again.


C'mon woman...
Brooks swoops down, pressing his lips against her's another
time, her blood now in his mouth. Another chest push.
Grayson makes a retching noise as water bubbles out her
mouth. Eyes flutter open. Disoriented. Rain still drenching
them. In the raft are Brooks Turnbull, Rinku Patel, Grayson
Fields, and two other injured.

They all pass out, asleep. The storm subsides as night turns
into day. All wake, and Brooks immediately searches through
the plane's sea raft for water and rations. He finds a
gallon container of water, and a bag of rations. They all
drink, and eat something.
I totally blanked out. Nothing.
I remember every thing.
Plane crash?
Brooks doesn't respond, he's searching the horizon for help.
                       GRAYSON (con't)
Where are we?
We survived a plane crash. You
need medical attention.
Grayson feels her scratch and wipes the blood off. Brooks
wipes a bit of blood from his lip.
India. Right?
Not quite. We're a bloody ways
from India.
You're the one who pulled me out.
God saved you.


Oh, great. We have a prophet on
No. Just a missionary.
Don't even think about trying to
convert me. I'm not a believer.
What I could never do, God can.
And how do you think he's going to
do that? You still believe in
Rinku spots a ship in the distance, steaming towards them.
They all look and shout.
Yes, I still believe in miracles.

Wait! Save your breath. Help me
find some flares.
They locate a box of flares, and Brooks fires two in the
air. Red and purple smoke shoot a hundred feet up. All
quiet, they wait. The ship is still steaming for them. They
all shout!
Please, may I have your names, and
the city where you boarded the
flight? Captain's orders.
                       BROOKS (British)
I'm Brooks Turnbull. This is Rinku
Patel. We boarded in London.
And you, Madam?
Grayson leans over and vomits, as Brooks holds her shoulder.


Grayson Fields. Washington D.C.
The staffer is writing on a water-proof tablet and walking
For a moment their attention is diverted to the activity of
the ship's personnel, moving the two injured survivors
Brooks puts a hand on Grayson's shoulder.
I think we should get some hot
Coffee with bourbon for me.
                       BROOKS (con't)
Medical help? Speak English?

Two seriously injured survivors are arriving. A Japanese
doctor and nurses are orchestrating the medical care.

The ship is rolling in moderate seas. A dry Grayson, Brooks,
and Rinku are buttoning up borrowed shirts and sitting
around a cheap Formica table in a bare-bones dinning room.
Everyone is sipping on steaming mugs and the jitters of the
near-death experience. A young Japanese med-tech is putting
the final touches on Grayson's BANDAGE.

Grayson raises her MUG and makes a toast.
Here's to the luckiest people on
Brooks and Rinku raise theirs, but say nothing. Grayson
still looks groggy, shaken.
                       GRAYSON (Con't)
I think we just survived a plane
crash in the middle of the ocean.
Not quite middle of the ocean.


You know where we are?
Bay of Bengal, off the coast, near
And you know that because...?
I told you. I've been on this
flight before.
Right. Missionary trips.....

Where were you? When you were
doing (beat) mission work?
Northeast India, near the Tibetan
That's close to where I'm going.
So you've been away, and you're
going back there now?
Pardon my forgetfulness. This is
my son, Rinku.
Grayson looks confused because Brooks is dark, Rinku is
Indian. Brooks notices.
                       BROOKS (con't)
Yes, we've been away. We're going
back, but to another village.
Brooks stands to fetch another hot tea.
May I ask what village?


I don't know it.
You don't want to know it.
Grayson looks puzzled.

Brooks now at the counter pouring hot water.
                       BROOKS (Con't)
Have you ever seen what the jala
plague can do in a village of two
hundred people?
Water plague? No. I haven't.
But we need to talk. (pause) Look,
I'm Grayson Fields.
Brooks returns and shakes her hand.
Brooks Turnbull. And you met
Grayson shakes hands with Rinku. Gives him a good smile.
                       BROOKS (Con't)
I'm guessing you're meeting
friends for some sort of climbing
No, I'm a scientist. Actually a
Really? If you don't mind my
intrusiveness, can you tell me
what a hydrologist would be doing
in the Himalayas?
It's a long story.
They stare at each other.
                       GRAYSON (con't)
But I suppose you'd like to hear
it anyway. Right?


Unless you'd have to shoot us.
Grayson smiles.
Okay. I was on my way to Jala's
NASA facility in the Himalayas. I
believe our best chance to solve
the water crisis is to find the
solution to cloud-seeding in the
oceans. That's what I do.
Lady, that's about the craziest
story I've ever heard.
Cloud-seeding? Oceans? Okay, let's
say it's true. Why the oceans? Why
not over land? The Himalayas!
We know how to do THAT. Let me ask
you...did you see any clouds when
you were in London? Or India?
Nooo, you didn't, because the
rivers are dry, the lakes are
dried-up mud holes; and, here's
the whopper: the aquifers are
pretty much gone. Simply put, Mr.
Prophet, there's just not enough
moisture over land anymore to
create rain. (pause) I think you
missionaries have been under a
rock some where.
Brooks finds some crackers in a basket on the counter. Turns
to Grayson,
I prefer to think we've been ON
THE ROCK. Anyway, look, you work
for Jala. Jala Worldwide.
Therefore you favor privatization
of water resources. I'll bet my
last Euro you know what caused the
Brooks drops some wrapped crackers on the table.
Whoa, you just jump-shifted from
total doubt to accusing me of
causing some plague I don't know
anything about.


                       GRAYSON (cont'd)

But the answer is 'no.'
Brooks sits.
No to which?
To both. No, I'm not in favor of
privatization and no I don't know
what caused the plague.
They stare at each other again.
Brooks raises his mug to take a sip.
So here you are, on your way to
this Jala research lab...If you're
not in favor of privatization, why
would they let you in?
They want me there. If I fail to
make it work, congress will vote
them control over water resources
And IF you figure it out?
Think about it. If we -- humans --
can create rain from the ocean's
waters, what would the water
companies have to sell? ....Nada.
What's his name....the guy who
runs Jala Worldwide?
Steve Muller. Why?
Well, don't you think he'd be
doing anything to make sure you
You mean...like, kill me?


Now that's a possibility. Don't
you think?
I don't think so.
They stare at each other. Grayson has the "look of love" in
her eyes, and Brooks can spot it.
Ah, I see. You're, you're lovers,
Nope, not any more.
But you still trust this guy.
I'm not sure of anything any more.
Lady, I wish I could help, I truly
do. Because you're going to need
it...unless...unless you have the
CIA backing you? That must be it.
No CIA. No secret men in black.
Just a lot of NASA scientists.
NASA scientists? NASA scientists
are a bunch of wussy's.
Why are you so interested in my
You know, you're right, it's none
of my bloody business.
Brooks goes to the tea pot.
Ma'am, may I ask you a question?
Of course.


Can you explain how this ocean
cloud seeding works?
Okay, well, oceanic cloud-seeding
is complicated, yet simple. Let me
explain it this way. You know how
clouds are formed...the hot sun
heats up a body of water, and the
evaporation from that heat makes
the water vapor rise, stick
together and form a cloud. Now,
this happens every day all over
the world. But in the last few
years we've discovered that
spraying liquid propane over a
large body of water will create a
larger cloud. Then, we fly planes
into the cloud and spray silver
iodides into the cloud, along with
more liquid propane. But if we
don't have the exact mixture of
these two elements, then the cloud
will dump its water over the ocean
before it makes landfall. Pretty
simple, huh?
No ma'am.
Awkward silence in the room. CAPTAIN HIMASHURI walks in.
Small in stature, but definitely in command.
My apologies for interrupting. I
am Captain Himashuri. You are very
fortunate to be alive. I don't
understand how any of you
survived. The reports I received
indicated your plane entered a
storm producing two hundred
kilometers per hour of wind. Only
two other survivors. I gave them
your names and they said you were
all in the rear of the plane. It
is believed that is how--
--Where are the others?


--you survived...

In the infirmary. I'm afraid one
may not make it.
My God.
Lord, help them.
Silence, then,
                       GRAYSON (Con't)
Captain, what kind of ship is
We are a converted U.L.C.V. The
largest of its kind.
A water hauler. I've heard about
you. Who owns it, American? Jala?
That is classified. But I am
pleased to show you the payload.
They stand and follow Captain Himashuri to the stern deck.
Calm day. In the early morning light the GIGANTIC WATER BAGS
trailing the ship are a spectacle, looking like ten thousand
white Moby Dicks. The 30-foot-wide bags are being buoyed on
each side by 10-foot-wide aluminum pontoons.

They gather to hear the Captain.
She's one and a half kilometers
long and twenty-two meters wide.
The pontoons you see are filled
with helium to keep the bag high
in the water. Designed to reduce
the drag.
That's nearly, what, a mile long?


Almost. The payload carries
approximately five hundred and ten
MILLION liters of water. That's
about one hundred thirty million
GALLONS for you Americans.
I'm not American. Where're you
taking it?
For sale, in India.
I hope you're taking it to
Grayson to Brooks.
How does he know it's safe?
Grayson turns to Himashuri.
                       GRAYSON (con't)
Who's selling it? American? Jala?
Again, Ms....?
Fields. Dr Grayson Fields.
That is classified information.
Indignant for being asked the question a second time,
Himashuri walks off,
                       CAPTAIN (Con't)
You should think about how
fortunate you are that we were in
the vicinity.
He's right.
Grayson, ignoring Brooks' and Himashuri's remarks,
It'll have a logo on it somewhere.


Brooks, Grayson, and Rinku look toward the water bag,
searching for logo insignia.
After some searching, they find Jala Worldwide's FADED LOGO
on the forward port quarter of the first bag. Small but
Steve. I'll be damned.
Do you think any of the water
companies is worse than the other?
No, I suppose you're right.
The three of them turn back to stare at the water bags.
                       GRAYSON (Con't)
Well....it's your turn now.
My turn for what?
Why are you and Rinku really
headed to this village of yours?
Put...Putsung...however you say
A long contemplative pause, as all 3 stare out over the
The village, Diyun, I was a
missionary ... We had a water
well, over an aquifer. A Tibetan
war lord raided our village and
killed everyone to get the well.
                       GRAYSON (Sadly)
Did you have family there? I've
heard most missona--
--yes. My wife, two daughters.
I'm sorry.


We had received word that they
were coming. The Tibetans. Rinku
and I were on our way to stop
them, to show them how to drill
for their own water.
We slept in a tree.
A tree?
Tigers? Oh, good. That's good
thinking. What happened when you
got to the village?
It was my fault.
No, Rinku! It was not your fault.
It could have happened to any one.
What? What happened?
                                         DISSOLVE TO
Weinold talking on phone.
                       SEC WEINOLD
Steve, they want an update on the
cloud-seeding. And you've got to
get the new membranes in the field
or the committee's going to vote
for nationalization! It'll pass
the Senate in a matter of days.
It's that hot. Get the frickin'
membranes in the field! Is Tom
there?! He knows what's on the
line here.


Muller at his desk talking on phone. Tom Hewitt is in the
room, listening.
He's standing right here, Bill,
and we can both assure you that
our Philadelphia AND California
plants are achieving a through-put
rate that is now strong enough to
satisfy congress. There's nothing
wrong with the new membrane
technology. And we're here taking
care of the cloud-seeding problem.
Dr. Fields will finally learn that
it's impossible and testify to it.
YOUR job is to stall the vote.
Hewitt steps up to the speaker phone.
Bill, Bill, tell me again how much
Jala stock your family now owns?
Muller gives Hewitt a harsh look.
                       SEC WEINOLD
Wish I'd never gotten caught up in
this. Steve, word on the street is
that the membrane is NOT working,
and may actually be making people
sick. Something's wrong. I...I'm
going to bail.
Bill! AMERICAN stole our patent.
They're the ones with the
                       SEC WEINOLD (Interrupting)
--Sorry, Steve.
And hangs up.
Muller slowly puts his cell phone down, still puzzled by
Weinold's comment.
      (To Hewitt)
What did he mean by bailing?
Hewitt shrugs, "I don't know."

Muller's office is surrounded by large flat screens showing


WATER TANKER movements all over the world. Muller simply
speaks out loud,
Betty, check on Dr. Fields'
Muller and Hewitt stare at each other.
                                         CUT TO
You said you saw a water truck in
that village...the wrong village
you went to? Did you see any
markings on it?
Yes. Jala Worldwide.
Damn. Son-of-a-bitch.
Still trust him?
Grayson doesn't respond, just stares in the distance,
                       BROOKS (cont'd)
Tell me you're not still going
Grayson gathers herself.
Damn straight I am. Look, he may
be a greedy bastard after all, but
it's the only way I can get hold
of those computers and figure out
the problem.
He could be the problem.
Awkward silence in the room. CAPTAIN HIMASHURI walks in.
Small in stature, but definitely in command.


We will reach the Port of Calcutta
in three hours. I would like to
extend an invitation for you to
join me for an early dinner.
      (To Brooks)
I don't know about you, but I'm
Thank you Captain.
Very good. I will send someone for
you in one hour.
The Captain makes a crisp turn for the door.

The ship rocks from two huge explosions. All in the dining
room grab something and steady themselves. Himashuri barks
orders and points.
All of you! Go into the COOLER
ROOM, there! In the back is a safe
room. Lock yourselves in. There is
a sat phone on the wall.
Himashuri takes off, as the startled three scramble for the
cooler. On his way out, Himashuri shouts back to them.
(Damn pirates)
Grayson and Brooks, led by Rinku, enter the food cooler
room, passing hanging sides of beef, shelves of all sorts of
fresh vegetables, fruits, and large Jala water jugs.
Wait! Wait! What if it was an
engine explosion, and we're
Trust me. That was no engine
explosion. Listen.....

Machine guns. The Captain said


                       BROOKS (cont'd)
The door to the SAFE ROOM is hidden, and they must find the
way in. Brooks discovers a box attached to a side wall,
breaks it open with his fist, and pushes the red button. The
door opens. The safe room is only 10' x 10'. Survival
equipment hangs on the walls. Brooks locks the door behind

When the Captain reaches topside, he sees a VESSEL half his
ship's size tied to his starboard, and GUNMEN everywhere on
his ship unloading their automatics on his men. Some fire
back, all ducking behind any available structure. The gun
battle lasts one minute.

Brooks finds the satellite phone in a bag on the wall. He
just holds it, trying to think of who he can call.
Give me the phone.
Brooks hands it over.
Who are you calling?
Got a better way to get us out of
this? How do you work this damn
Brooks takes it, knows exactly where to power it up, opens
the signal channel and asks Grayson,
What number?
How did you know how to...?


Special Forces. Long time ago. The
      (Trying to
Okay... 0025557684#01.
Brooks punches in the numbers and hands it to Grayson's ear.
                       GRAYSON (Con't)
We better pray this works.
Rinku bows his head.
I didn't mean it literally. Its a
figure of (pause). Forget it.
We should all pray.

The captain and four remaining men are lined up and shot by
a firing squad.
Secretary Weinhold at his desk. Pulls a revolver up to his

Muller's cell phone rings...answers.
(Listens) Are you okay? (long
pause). Slow down. Just slow down.
Repeat what you said. (pause).
Damn! Pirates. Again. Look, I'll
have a plane there in less than 30
minutes. Look on the Sat phone and
give me your coordinates.



Grayson looks like she's in shock and hands the phone to
He's sending a plane. Says its
A plane?
He needs our coordinates.
Brooks pulls the sat phone up closer to his eyes, looking
for the coordinates indicator.
                                         DISSOLVE TO
The PIRATES are in the pilothouse checking nav charts and
changing course. They're Arabs. And they're making headway
with the stolen water.
In a few minutes they hear jets coming in from the ship's
port beam. They grab the automatics and run to the port
side. Twenty gunmen start shooting at the incoming STEALTH
The aircraft don't come in for a direct hit, but rather fly
off the stern and shoot the hauling equipment loose from the
water bags, which immediately stop as the ship steams ahead.
The pirates are in a rage, screaming at the departing
aircraft. The leader barks orders in Arabic.
                       ARAB PIRATE LEADER
Scuttle the ship. Scuttle the damn
The pirates drop fire bombs down hatches and vents.
Explosions burst up through hatches of the ship. The pirates
frantically board their vessel.

These bad ass explosions knock everyone to the floor,
confused and dazed.
We've been hit. Shit.


Who would bomb us?
Smoke is entering the room from a ceiling vent.
Got to get the hell out o' here.
All are gathering gear and preparing to leave.

They see the pirate's vessel steaming off a couple hundred
meters away and the water bags no longer attached to the
ship. Fire is blazing from every vent and hatch on the ship.
Look! The plane shot the tongue
off. That's why the pirates
scuttled us ...I'm going to get
the rest out. You keep climbing to
the pilot house and get us back to
those bags before we go down!
Brooks runs down the steel staircase,


busting through every door in sight.
He makes his way through more explosions and flames.

Rinku starts to run down the stairs to follow Brooks.
Rinku, don't go down there. Get
back up here dammit! We've got to
take this burning crap back to the
water bag!
You're going to save the water
Grayson ignores his question and takes off for the pilot
house. Rinku looks down the stairway, back to Grayson,
trying to decide. She calls again.


No hesitation now, Rinku runs up to her in the pilot house.
      (To Rinku)
Here. Hand me that loudspeaker.
I'm right here.
                       GRAYSON (too much adrenaline confusion)
Yes, of course you are.
As the ship closes within a quarter mile on the bag,
explosions occur all over the stern, and the engine dies in
a big burst of smoke. Rinku rushes to the bow, looking for
Brooks. No sign of Brooks and the others. Then, Brooks shows
up with an injured man in his arms.

Grayson, in the pilot house, on the loudspeaker,
Rinku helps the injured man to the starboard side. Brooks
races over and brings them back. Grayson climbs down from
the pilot house.
Port side, port side!
All are huddled at the bow tip, port side. The flaming and
exploding ship floats towards the giant bag. It's not going
to make it. Then they notice the huge water spout, shooting
100 feet up in the air,coming from the water bag, near the
area where the fighter jet shot the hauling equipment loose.
Everybody jump, NOW!
With Brooks now holding the injured man, all jump. Together
in the water, they watch the ship go up in bigger flames and
more explosions, then sink. They swim to the water bag.
Getting on it is no easy chore. They eventually go to the
front, where the hauling gear is hanging down in the sea,
and climb up from there. On top, they bounce, and try to
maintain balance. Most just plop down on their bellies. The


water spout rains on all of them. Rinku begins to laugh.
He's never experienced a trampoline-water park. For a moment
they all laugh, and bounce. Then settle back to reality.
Now what?
Unless I'm mistaken, the current
is not going to push us to land.
You have a plan?
I do. (pause)
We need propulsion. Rinku! Spit
that water out!
Rinku has a mouthful. Spits it out like it's poison.
Water water everywhere, not a drop
to drink any...where.
                       RINKU (not smiling)
Funny. The Ancient Mariner.
Remember, the Captain said the
pontoons are filled with helium,
to keep this thing afloat.
Okay. So?
I get it!
All look around for something that will poke holes. Brooks
reaches in the sat bag and pulls out a rescue kit, with
tools, and a knife. He and Rinku start punching holes in the

SFX: Passshue. Passshue.

One after the other the helium escapes in loud hisses. And
the first bag begins to move in the direction hoped for.


I don't think we can do this all
the way down there (pointing to
the out-of-sight end of the bag).
But they keep doing it anyway.

All hear and look for the chopper.
Well...at least the bastard didn't
abandon us for good.
The HELICOPTER is soon overhead, lowering it's wench basket,
as the injured survivor is loaded on board first. The basket
goes up, and down, up and down. Soon all are aboard. As the
chopper pulls away they just stare at the giant WATER SPOUT.
                                         DISSOLVE TO
Now over land.
                       HELO PILOT
My instructions are to take the
injured to the nearest hospital,
and Dr. Fields to the station.
Pilot turns to Brooks, but points to the ground.
                       HELO PILOT
Looks like your transport is ready
to roll. Courtesy of Mr. Muller.
A white Range Rover.
Thanks. Where are we?
                       HELO PILOT
Twenty clicks southwest of
As the helo is descending, Brooks and Grayson look at each
other. Grayson breaks the silence.
Well, I guess--


--I know.
Take care of yourself.
Grayson looks at a smiling Rinku, but is still talking to
And Rinku! Especially Rinku.
Brooks smiles at her. Grayson reaches across her seat and
wraps her hand around Brook's bicep. They look at each other
as if something between them could develop.
                       GRAYSON (con't)
Special Forces, huh? How did a
soldier get to be a missionary?

Never mind, don't tell me.
After landing, Brooks and Rinku hop out, turn, look back
toward Grayson, wave goodbye, and hop in the Rover. The helo
takes off, with Grayson looking and wondering what's going
to happen to them.
Brooks drives. As they enter the outskirts of Calcutta,
Rinku rises to look, and the scene slips into SLOW MOTION,
as they see unimaginable squalor. Brooks rolls the windows
up to avoid the stench. This goes on for a minute or two.
Rinku visibly is affected by the scene. TEARS begin
streaming down his cheeks. Brooks glances over and notices.
Brooks wells up, too. Rinku continues to absorb and process
the scene out his window.
How could God (pause)--
--How could God allow this?
      (after a long
I don't know.


They continue driving.
Daddy...you don't mind if I call
you Daddy, do you?
Brooks doesn't look at Rinku, but Rinku sees the tears on
Brooks' cheeks.
Of course not. You're my only
family now. I love you, you DO
know that, don't you?
I do.
Brooks smiles.
                                         DISSOLVE TO
The hidden SECURITY ROOM is loaded with banks of monitors
feeding live video/audio of the entire property, with a bank
of LDC's showing water tanker locations all over the globe.
Muller is talking to Hewitt.
Of course we'll stay on plan. I
can't believe he actually shot
himself. Crap. We move on. Just
make sure our people are doing
their jobs. She'll be here in
fifteen minutes.
Dammit, Steve, I can't say it
enough ... bringing her here is a
big mistake.
Well Tom I guess we'll just have
to agree to disagree.
                                         CUT TO
On the helo flight to Jala/NASA facility, Grayson spends
time thinking, looking at design drawings, and studying her

As they reach the Himalayas, she's enthralled by its beauty


and majesty.

Grayson unloads from the chopper near a fortified CONCRETE
BUNKER sunk in the mountain side. The bunker doors are
flanked by men and their high-tech automatics. Two Jala
guards, using earpieces with tablet screens meet Grayson.
A friendly Muller walks out.
You should ask that man (pointing
to Muller)
Muller gives her a bear hug.
Thank God you're safe.
Nice to see you, too, Mr. Muller.
You'll take me to the OPs room, I
hope, and spare me the BS.
I'm not sure I appreciate your
tone. What happened to you back
I thought we were dead.
They walk to the bunker entrance together.
I'm just glad you made it. I've
missed you.
Has the NASA team been assembled?
Of course. And, we're working hard
on getting your lab ready.
There're some kinks to work out.
Grayson sees Tom Hewitt walking toward them.
Right, I'm sure there're a few
kinks to work out.


Grayson, thank God you're okay.
Now, where would you like to
                                         DISSOLVE TO
Tahir lies on a mat next to the hospital. He hears the hum
of a distant engine, opens his eyes and sees a vehicle
coming towards him. Dead women, men, and children are
scattered everywhere. Flies are buzzing in and out of the
hospital tent. Dust is everywhere.
Ohhh, my God. My God.
Rinku is now straining to see, leaning forward on the
windshield. It looks like Jim Jones' Guyana scene, except
these people didn't die a quick death. The boils and
dis-figuration are evident.
Look! There!
Tahir. I see him.
The Rover rolls up to a slow, reverent stop. Both quietly
open the doors and step out. Brooks shouts,
Get back in!
Rinku gets back in immediately. Fear and confusion.
Cover your mouth and nose. I don't
think it's airborne. But do it
Both grab something. Rinku tears off the tail of his shirt
and wraps it around his nose like a robber's bandanna.
Brooks pulls his t-shirt over his nose, revealing a ripped
body, then turns to inspect Rinku's protection. Satisfied,
he steps back out of the Rover. Rinku follows. They slowly
walk over to Tahir.


Is anyone...ask him if anyone else
is alive. No. Forget it. Get him
some water from the Rover.
Rinku fetches a bottled water.
Search the village. See how many
survivors you can find.
Rinku takes off. Brooks kneels down and pours a small stream
into Tahir's mouth. Only his eyes move. To look at Brooks.
                       RINKU (O.C.)
Here! One alive!
Brooks runs towards Rinku, and helps him bring the young man
back and lays him beside the Rover, giving him water.
The search goes on for couple of minutes. Brooks spots
Madan's lifeless body outside a small tent. Only one more
survivor is found, and brought back to the Rover.
That must be all. What now?
Two in the back, Tahir in the
rear, us in the front.
They gently place the near-dead bodies in the Rover. They
take off in a cloud of choking dust.
Where are we taking them?
The Himalayas. NASA. Two hundred
kilometers according to Grayson.
Best chance he'll have to survive.
No sir....I'm just worried about


I'm afraid you will hurt the men
responsible for this.
Brooks looks at Rinku, expressionless.
The Operations Room is an open, two-storied room with
floor-to-ceiling screens filling one wall. Rows of
super-computers facing the screens fill the rest of the
room. In the middle of the room, amongst the rows, is a
slightly elevated, semi-circular station with multiple
computer screens. That's where Grayson sits.

She's intently manipulating the graphics on the screens. The
stations outside the circle are filled with computer
workers. Tired, she stands and stretches. Her perfect body
in tight jeans is a very sexy sight as Muller walks up.
Grayson, you've been at this for,
what, two days now? Take a break.
Besides, I've missed you.
Muller reaches around her waist and softly places his hand
on her rear while she still stretches.
                       MULLER (Con't)
You know I love you, and right
now, I'd do anything to get back
in your pants.
Grayson slowly removes his hand.
I already have one ass in there.
Why would I want another one?

(long pause as Muller backs off,

You know something, Steve, I'm not
sure I know the REAL Steve Muller.
Meaning...what?! Hell! You're the
one that's changed.
I learned a lot about Jala
Worldwide on that ship. Frankly,
I'm not sure you passed the smell


                       GRAYSON (cont'd)
      (Turning to leave)
My father always said, 'Son, don't
believe anything you hear, and
only half of what you see.' I
think you've been listening to the
wrong people.
Wait! I want to know why the
simulator hasn't worked since I
arrived. And I believe the
seeding formula shows an overload
of silver iodides. You've been
picking up ocean water,
super-saturating it, dumping right
back in the ocean.....haven't you?
And I'm 99% sure that's what took
our plane down.
You...you're way off base,
I just can't prove it.
Muller is now several feet away, talking to Grayson as he
leaves the room.
And you never will. Because it's
not true.
                       GRAYSON (louder)
There's no money in rain when
you've got a monopoly on treated
Muller is gone. Grayson turns to a nerdy little NASA
scientist 10 yards away.
Get me whatever you can. If
they've deliberately blocked this,
we've got to have proof. It also
means whatever support we're
getting here is hurting, not
helping. I don't suppose you'd
tell me if you were one of them,


                       GRAYSON (cont'd)
would you?
I'm not.
Muller is seated in the middle of a high-tech security room
with Hewitt, looking at a large screen, camera zoomed in on
Grayson. Hewitt is smiling. Muller is not.
      (Muttering to self)
Grayson, you're chasing ghosts
that don't exist.
Muller walks out of the room, leaving Hewitt looking at
Grayson and Gail. As the door closes behind him, we see it
is a very nondescript door from the outside, along a generic
hallway. There are no guards, and the sign on the door as it
closes behind him reads "Maintenance Supply".
The halogen light shines into Brooks' face and the entire
inside of the Jeep.
Don't have any. Call--
--Turn your vehicle around and
leave immediately.
Wait. Please. Call Dr. Fields.
Here, I have her cell number.
They'll approve it.
The guard stares at Brooks for a couple seconds, checks out
the passengers, and crisply walks to the guard booth. Brooks
senses they'll be denied entry, stomps it and tries to break
through the gate. But this gate doesn't budge. Stuck. The
soldiers manning the guard house quickly lower their rifles
on the vehicle. The guard comes out in a fury with a pistol
and sticks it in Brooks' face. Brooks' phone is already at
his ear and ringing.


Grayson's phone rings. Listens. Turns to Muller who's just
returned from the secret security room.
I have some friends who've been
detained at the front gate. Can
you let them in?
Bullshit. What the hell's going on
It's the missionary from the plane
crash for God's sake.
Muller motions to Grayson to give him the phone. Muller
Put the guard on the line. (pause)
This is Muller. (Listens) Okay,
search 'em for weapons. If they
have any, you know what to do.
Muller hangs up.
Weapons? He's a missionary for
heaven's sake.
And what? That means he can't
carry a gun? How the fuck do I
know he's not your president's CIA
and come for a TAKE-OVER of Jala
like they did when oil was more
precious than this FRICK'EN WATER!
You, you're...I don't know,
Grayson. You're not the same.
Grayson shakes her head and walks back to the semi-circle
row of super-computers. Grayson is definitely becoming more
bold showing her frustration.
He doesn't need a gun. He could
kick your puny ass with his bare


Grayson sits down at the terminals. Exhausted. Lowers her
head in frustration and fatigue. Raises her eyes to look at
the screens.
      (Muttering to self)
You're in there, I just can't find
Grayson jumps up and walks toward hallway where Muller
exited. Bumps into Hewitt in the hallway.
Tom, look, Steve promised support
for me. I need to check a problem
with the simulator. I'll fix it
myself, but you need to let me in
No problem. Come with me.
They walk through the main computer room, then take an
elevator down one floor. No words are spoken. Elevator opens
to a huge, glass box room in the center of the already huge
inside the self-contained glass room working over a GIANT
TABLE, the size of a basketball court. The table is so large
that it is contoured to simulate the curvature of the earth.
Even the ocean water has a 6-degree curve to it. Grayson and
Tom walk to the glass door, and she can see the whole
operation. A simulated land mass, with water covering half
of the table. Terminals every where on the perimeter of the
room. Tom puts his eye to a device by the door, and it opens
with the hiss of escaping gas.
Grayson, We're counting on you.
You CAN fix it, can't you?
She simply gives him a serious look. They walk in and
Grayson doesn't know where to start.
                       HEWITT (Con't)
Complex, isn't it?
I designed it.
I saw it for the first time two
days ago. Tell me, how in God's
name did you get the water to...to


To be curved and not flat?
Anti-gravity, underneath.
Amazing. They'll bring you up to
speed. Get your iris scanned on
the way out, for access.
Hewitt leaves, not too happy.


Brooks arrives carrying Tahir, along with Rinku and the
injured. Hewitt comes from the elevator to meet them. Muller
is already there, and notices the injured Tahir.
You must be Brooks, the
missionary. Your friend needs
medical attention. Tom, have
someone take him to the infirmary,
would you?
Three more in the Rover. Can your
--of course, of course. Tom?
Tom nods "yes" to Muller, then leads Brooks carrying Tahir
down a hallway leaving Muller with Rinku.
You're Mr. Steve Muller, is that
right? I've heard about you sir.
And you are?
My name is Rinku. Reverend
Turnbull is my father.
Muller puts his hand on Rinku's shoulder, in friendship.
Well, Rinku, glad to meet you. So
Reverend Turnbull is your father?


The best man in the world.
I'm sure he is.
Muller turns with a smile and walks off.
                       MULLER (Con't)
Tom will be back in a minute to
take care of you.
Muller struts down to infirmary hallway, and meets Tom,
who's on his way back.
Tom, find them a place to bunk,
would you? And find out what the
deal is with this Reverend
Of course.
Tom reaches Rinku.
You look tired. I'll show you
where you can shower and change.
Thank you, but I'd rather see my
father if you don't mind.
Hewitt contemplates for a second.
Sure. He's in the infirmary. I'll
show you.
They walk.

Gail, a nerdy little NASA scientist, steps off the elevator
outside the simulator room. Dark rain clouds are building
over the simulator's miniaturized Bay of Bengal. Grayson
turns from her work and meets her at the glass door, which
opens with the same gas-locked hiss.

Grayson takes her by the shoulder and leads her to a corner
of the room. Privacy.


I'm glad you're here. I can use
your help. But here's the thing.
Honestly, I'm not sure I can trust
anyone here. So, I have to ask you
a question. Okay?
I know this may sound a little
weird, but it will help me. Who
was the first person to discover
that silver iodides could be
combined with liquid propane to
manipulate the growth of clouds.
Gail thinks for a moment.
Dr. Norcroft? 2017?
Close enough. It's Dr. Swartzkoph.
But are you familiar with his
principle of the secondary
effect...where freezing water can
release latent fusion heat into
the cloud?
They can grow to super large
cells, too heavy to travel, and
dump their water over the ocean.
Perfect. Okay, look, here's what I
need you to do. Tom will take you
to the main terminal upstairs. I
need for you to go through the
algorithm they're using for the
silver iodides...you know, the
fertilizer used to seed clouds.
Got it.
Somehow, they've written a rogue
formula that I can't find. Think
you can find the culprit
algorithm, fix it, and send it to


                       GRAYSON (cont'd)
these terminals so I can simulate
Gail is looking eager to help, but a little puzzled by the
magnitude of the problem.
                       GRAYSON (Con't)
Do you think you can do that?
Ma'am, I'm the little engine that
She peels off in excitement. Grayson just watches her go.
Great. Our fate is in the hands of
a nursery rhyming nerd.
                                         CUT TO
Muller behind his desk in the security room, Hewitt
standing, both looking at Grayson on the computer terminal.
She's smart.
You actually think she's smarter
than all these NASA scientists?
Come on...
Hewitt starts to leave.
                       MULLER (Con't)
Where you going?
Get some sleep. I'm tired.
Hewitt leaves, but Muller sits and watches Grayson at work
in the simulator room. Muller obviously has strong feelings
for Grayson.
      (to self)
Grayson, if you pull this off
you're more of a genius than I
                                         DISSOLVE TO


Having lied about getting sleep, Hewitt in his own office,
punching numbers into a cell phone,
Senator. We need to talk. We may
have a set-back. (listens) Yes, I
heard about Weinhold. We move on.
How're you holding up?
Senator Chandler at his desk.

                       SENATOR CHANDLER
Not so good. Talk is that more are
getting sick. You swear to me that
none of the new membrane water is
being sold here, anywhere in the
None. What American does with it,
I can't say. It's their
technology, too, remember?
                       SENATOR CHANDLER
Yea, something I'm regretting.
They probably screwed it up more
than you did.
Now Senator, you and I both know
that several million dollars
covers a lot of sins. We just need
your vote on this thing. And I
need you to check background on a
British Missionary.
                       SENATOR CHANDLER
I'll give you two days. That's it.
All hell is breaking loose here.
In every state. They're here,
right below my office, rioting
like banshees.
The mob outside Chandler's window is huge. Chanting "DO
I hear them. Listen, I need you to
check on a Brooks Turnbull.
Currently a British missionary in
India. Pull some strings and get
me something, like in 5 minutes.


                       HEWITT (cont'd)
You can do it.
                       SENATOR CHANDLER
I'll see what I can do.

Grayson answering her cell.
                       GAIL (OS--hushed voice throughout)
It's Gail.
Gail. Oh, Gail. NASA.
I'm ready to send the new
algorithm. What address do I use?
You solved it? Are you sure?
What address?
Send it to...NO! Print it and
bring it down. And Gail, thank
Grayson pushes call cancel, and looks around the room at the
other scientists to see if any were listening to her
conversation. None were.
                                         CUT TO
Hewitt is back in the security control room with Muller.
I did a little checking on our
missionary guest, Turnbull. Seems
he was in British Special Forces,
retired at 35 and became a
missionary in India.


Damn. What's a British spy doing
I don't think he's a spy. He's
been in some remote India village
for five years. Has a wife and two
daughters. And no longer
Thank God. We don't need another
Chief of Staff, WALTER BENSON, is in the President's media
room of the White House, but we never see the president's
face. They, along with several other staff and family are
watching TV news. The anchor, Steve Cummings, is delivering
the day's news.
                       ANCHOR (Filtered)
...and THAT from our correspondent
in Spain, again, one of the worst
affected regions of the world. We
take you now to our correspondent
in Texas, Bill Sheffield.
                       SHEFIELD (Filtered)
Steve, I'm here in Lubbock, Texas,
and as you can see around me, it
is utter chaos. The drought here
is being compared to the great
dust bowl of the 20s. There simply
is no water. The exodus of people,
families, and businesses has
brought this Texas city to...well,
to its knees. Most people here are
telling me that they're moving out
to the Rockies, and even Canada,
in search of mountains and cooler
air. But the hope of finding
plentiful water is still a gamble
for these Texans. It's a sad, sad
situation here in Texas, Steve.
The President picks up the remote, and simply turns it off.
Chief of Staff, Walter Benson, is sitting across from the


                       CHIEF OF STAFF
Senator Wyatt's chief tells me he
believes the Senate will vote
against nationalization.
While we never "see the president's face" we do see her from
                       THE PRESIDENT
Then God help us all.
Gail enters the simulator room with paper in hand. Grayson
takes it to a corner of the room, sits, and studies it.
She turns to Gail and asks a question,
How did you....? Never mind!
Grayson stands and makes an announcement,
Ladies and gentlemen, could I have
your attention? Please. I would
like for you to re-program the
simulator computers for a new
seeding formula.
Grayson holds the paper up to show them and,
                       GRAYSON (Con't)
I have one copy. I will put it
here, so please, come, take your
notes from it, and recalculate
your sections. And please, let's
don't waste any time.
                                         DISSOLVE TO
Brooks and Rinku in the infirmary, standing beside Tahir's
bed. Praying. During his prayer, we hear him but see scenes
of the scientists inside the simulator room preparing for
the first big cloud-seeding simulation.
      (softly praying)
Father, We pray now for your
intervention in Grayson's...in
Grayson's efforts to use science
to bring the water the world so
desperately needs. Would you help
us, and her, LORD, use whatever


                       BROOKS (cont'd)
means you choose to create the
life-giving water? We pray for
water, Father. You know what we
need more than we know. May your
will be done in heaven as it is
here on earth.
                                         CUT TO

The scientists are now completing the mixing of chemicals in
the vats, while the entire perimeter of the glass house goes
dark, and a ceiling spot light--simulating the sun--slowly
powers up, leaving the room looking eerily like the real
earth and ocean. The "sunlight" above begins to heat up the
ocean and the people. Scientists don sunglasses. People wipe
off sweat.

Eventually, a cloud begins to form over the Bay of Bengal.
Nozzles pump a redish mist into the cloud. All simply stare
as the cloud grows darker, more ominous, and lightening
begins to crackle. Most of the scientists are jumpy. The
cloud grows above them. As the sun simulator lowers towards
the horizon, the cooler "late afternoon" air over the land
mass begins to draw the cloud inland. Now the scientists all
cheer in excitement. Grayson is laughing and tears are
falling down her cheeks from underneath her dark glasses.

The scientists, one by one, start chanting, "Come on" "Come
on" "Come on".....

But the cloud, still on its move inland, BURSTS OPEN AND
SPILLS ITS RAIN WATER, halting its momentum before reaching
land. Hewitt exhibits an ever-so-slight smile. Muller just
shakes his head.

Grayson lowers her head and slowly takes off her sunglasses,
visibly disappointed.
                                         FADE TO BLACK
An agitated and depressed Grayson is now at her upstairs
terminal, using Voice Over Internet Protocol, dialing
Come on. Answer.
Three more rings, still no answer.


Come on, answer the damn phone,
Grayson is now looking at a pop-up on her screen, she exists
the VOIP, clicks on the pop-up, and listens to a recording,
                       SENATOR CHANDLER (Filtered)
They probably screwed it up more
than you did.
                       HEWITT (Filtered)
Now Senator, you and I both know
that several million dollars
covers a lot of sins. Just keep
the committee stalled until we can
confirm failure.
                       SENATOR CHANDLER (filtered)
And Steve? What's your plan for
                       HEWITT (filtered)
Why should I change the plan? If
he let's her get any closer to
figuring this out, I'll take care
of both of them.
MULLER WALKS UP to Grayson at her terminal.
Steve, I'm glad you're here. You
need to hear this.
Don't tell me you figured out what
ten NASA scientists couldn't.
Grayson, beginning to realize, and hoping that Muller may
not be the bad guy in all of this....
I'll explain later. Just listen to
this first. I set up a cell
capture station to pick up any
out-going calls. One just popped
Grayson plays the same portion of tape as above.
Chandler. Look, it doesn't prove
anything. And wait! You're
accusing Tom? Hell, I pushed for a


                       MULLER (cont'd)
senate delay MYSELF!
But did you sabotage the formulas?
Just listen. There's more.
Grayson plays another part of the taped conversation.
                       HEWITT (Filtered)
If she gets any closer, I'll take
care of it. (Listens) Of course I
would, if it becomes necessary.
He's always thought of me as
little brother who needed his
pity. Screw him.
Muller's facial expressions change from confident to scared.
Damn. I don't believe it. Was Tom
playing both sides? ...Damn! Tom
sold us out. He must have altered
the formula. Which could also
mean, there's something wrong with
our membranes. Bastard.
Don't forget the cloud-seeding
Muller walks off, yanking his cell phone out and dialing, as
Rinku walks up to Grayson.
He looks mad... Reverend Turnbull
thinks Tahir will be okay. He
won't leave his side.
Rinku, Tom Hewitt is the one. Not
The one?
The dirty water. The problems with
cloud-seeding. He's behind it all.
And a senator is involved. But you
can't tell anyone. Not yet. Not
until I get back.


                                         CUT TO
Muller storms into Hewitt's office.
You son-of-a-bitch. I'm shutting
down the membrane production right
now, and you're going to show them
how you manipulated the fuckin'
cloud-seeding formula.
Steve, Steve, calm down. I don't
know what you heard, but I think
TIME'S 'Man of the Year' went to
your fricken' head. I'm the one
who made this company the largest
in the world, we would've been a
helluva lot more profitable if you
hadn't given away so much to--
                       MULLER (Interrupting)
--You're despicable. And fired.
Muller storms out.
Grayson leaves the front entrance. Two guards with
automatics stand at attention. On the tarmac is a Gulfstream
Guard, do you see that G-15 over
Yes Ma'am.
And do you know who I am?
Yes Ma'am.
Then take me there. And call the
pilot. Now!


IN MULLER'S OFFICE, Muller and Hewitt are squared off,
Steve, so tell me, what was the
big new plan you had in mind for
her? Huh? She's just gotten on the
plane and headed to 'God knows
where.' Is that your plan? To--
Look at me, Tom. NO! I have no
idea where she's going. Look, we
both know that without her
corroboration we'd never get
congress off our backs. We need
her back here.
I think we've had enough failures
to convince Congress. I don't
think we need her any more.
Tom, say something like that about
Grayson one more time, and
--You'll what? Kick my ass? That's
what older brothers do isn't it?
Kick their younger brother's ass,
Hewitt is so pissed off he hits Muller first, and floors
This time I'm going to give the
Muller rubs his jaw, and starts to get up. Hewitt knocks him
down again, and Muller has a serious, troubled and
freightened look on his face this time.
What a fool you've been. First,
you under estimated her. She
actually had a fuckin' chance of
figuring out how we sabotaged the
formula, then you didn't--


--So you did sabotage it!
--Then, you didn't even have a
clue about me, your own brother,
did you?! That's right. I'm the
one who kept the cloud-seeding
devil out of our bank vault. Don't
you get it? We wouldn't be here if
it weren't for me, brother!
Tom, tell me it's not true. Tell
Steve stares at Tom as he starts to get up but Tom decks him
again, hard.
That should tell you what you need
to know.
Steve is knocked out, and Tom leans over him, rolls him on
his stomach, looks around the room, and yanks a table lamp
cord out and begins to tie him up.

Brooks is standing over Tahir's bed. Tahir is speaking
Tibetan to the ceiling. Brooks just listens. Soon, Rinku
comes in and listens.
What's he saying?
He's praying for rain. And asking
others all over the world to pray
for rain.

Then QUICK CUTS of a person in India praying, then a Chinese
woman, then an African, then a French woman, then a German
man, and finally an American boy.

Rinku kneels first, then Brooks, and they pray for rain.
LORD, father, you know our needs.
You are the supreme father who
knows and controls everything. We
pray...no, we beg, that you would


                       BROOKS (cont'd)
give us rain. Amen.
Brooks and Rinku stand up.
Dr. Grayson is gone.
Gone where? What do you mean?
She said something about a
professor. Then left on a plane.
                                         DISSOLVE TO
Grayson studies grafts, charts, data on her tablet. She gets
frustrated, and speaks into the tablet: "Call Dr.
Swartzkoph." Rings, rings. No answer. She decides to call
someone else.
"Call American International University Chancellor."

After a few rings, a voice.
                       SEC TO CHANCELLOR
Chancellor Berns's office.
Yes, this is Dr. Grayson Fields.
I'm trying to track down a
professor at your university. Dr.
Timothy Swartzkoph.
She listens.
WHAT?! When?
Grayson pitifully speaks into the tablet: "Cancel call."
                                         DISSOLVE TO
The sun is rising. Muller is hand-cuffed to his desk drawer.
A guard stands at the door.


At least you could find out what
happened to Dr. Fields. Where is
she? I want to know if she's okay.
The guard is stoic.
                       MULLER (Con't)
Listen. Tom Hewitt is unstable.
You know who runs this company.
Just untie me, and together we can
save your job and this company.
The guard remains stoic.
Taxi with Grayson in the rear moves up onto the freeway.

We hear a Priest giving a eulogy, as her sedan moves along
the freeway. Dust is in the air, and everywhere.

As the Priest speaks, we see older scenes of Grayson in his
class, eagerly raising her hand to ask a question, then
beside him at the old simulation table, and talking with him
after class at his desk. Even then, Dr. Swartzkoph was an
avuncular professor.
                       PRIEST (OS)
We're here today to offer God's
thanks for Doctor Timothy
Swartzkoph. While I did not know
Dr. Swartzkoph, I have learned
that he was a man who devoted his
life to his students. He taught
physics for forty-four years at
American International University.
Dr. Swartzkoph had no family. It
is said that his students were his
family. Many of you are here today
to pay your respects for a beloved
man. His religious affiliations do
not matter. It is said that his
religion was his research, his
students, and the discoveries he
uncovered that made our world a
better place to live.
Grayson's sedan pulls into a cemetery and stops behind four
parked cars--a graveside burial in progress only a few yards
away. She steps out and walks toward a small group of


people. The Priest is still delivering the eulogy. She looks
for, and finds, a familiar face.
..and as I've been told by his
closest friends, Dr. Swartzkoph
was not only a brilliant man, but
a sensitive man. A man who knew
about the souls of the people he
came to know and love.
The familiar face is someone she knew a long time ago. Goes
and stands beside him. She can't remember his name, but it's
Professor ALBERT TEEMS, a tall, 6ft/4inch, moppy-haired,
ugly man. Grayson and Teems talk in low tones, while the
Priest continues.
      (can't remember
       his name)
Teems. Dr. Albert Teems.
I need to get into his lab.
There is no laboratory. It's gone.
Gone? What do you mean, gone?
What part of "gone" do you not
understand. There was an
explosion. An accident.
No way. He never had any
The eulogy ends. Some people throw dirt on the casket. Then
all leave except for the Priest and one other man, who looks
in Grayson's direction as he walks away. Dressed in all
black with dark wrap-around sunglasses, he looks out of
place compared to the others. Grayson is frozen, just
contemplating. The Priest comes up to her.
Are you all right?


Grayson snaps out of her thousand-yard stare.
Yes, I'm okay. Thank you.
Were you close to Dr. Swartzkoph?
Grayson marches off.
Grayson is walking past the yellow police tape cordoning off
the laboratory. It's late afternoon and no one's around. She
pulls back some loose boards and enters the demolished lab.
She stops and scopes out the room, as we hear Professor
Swartzkoph's voice in her head:

"If I find the exact algorithm, there's no need in my
sending it to you. It'll just be intercepted. I'll contact
you and you'll have to come here."
She walks around looking, contemplating. She recognizes the
area where the simulator was located. Then, she hears a
noise. Something moved. It startled her. She moves silently
back towards the door. The wrap-around sunglasses man has
already walked into the laboratory, past Grayson who's
hiding behind a pile of debris. He doesn't see her and walks
farther into the room. She slips out, her heart pounding.

Outside, not knowing where to go she heads for the bench in
the park.

Back inside, the man is now calling her name and searching
for her.
Dr. Fields. I just want to talk
with you. I mean no harm. I've
been hired to protect you. Why
don't you come out so we can talk?
Grayson has been running hard and panting by the time she
sees the bench in the distance.
Dr. Fields, if I'm going to
protect you, I need to see you.


Grayson reaches the bench, stops and just stares at it. She
sits down, and exhales, looking back towards the old
laboratory to see if the man is chasing her. Nobody in
sight. Mind racing, she tries to figure out what she should
do next. Nervously reaching in her purse, she pulls out her
cell and makes a call.

At the same time, back in the lab, the man's cell phone
buzzes and he picks up.

Back to Grayson, now connected.
This is Dr. Fields. I'm ready to
go to the airport. Pick me up
right now at the corner (she looks
around) at the corner of West
Cherry and State Street. How far
away are you? Okay, but hurry,
She hangs us, as does the man in the laboratory.

Grayson looks back toward the lab again. Nothing. Then leans
back for a deep breath. Suddenly she notices that the bench
is different. The one she and the professor sat on just a
couple weeks ago had wooden slats for a seat. This one is
fiberglass. She reaches underneath to feel around. She jerks
her hand out. A wasp stung her. She sucks on the venom. Then
slowly turns the bench upside down while looking around to
make sure no one notices. She sees the envelope taped
underneath. But waits for the 3 or 4 escaped wasps to return
to the huge nest. She takes a handkerchief from her purse
and quickly covers the wasp nest, then snatches it and jams
it in her purse. Only a few wasps escape. She takes the
envelope, quickly opens it to see a piece of paper with a
formula on it, slips it in a side pocket of her purse, then
runs for the opposite corner of the park, away from the
laboratory. She finally reaches the taxi and hops in the
back seat.
I'm in a big hurry. Take me to the
private airport next to Regan.
The taxi speeds off, as the man with the wrap-around glasses
turns around to acknowledge her. He's driving the taxi.
Yes ma'am!
She's about to panic when she hears another man, slumped
down on the front seat, groan. He begins to raise up, and


the man hits him with the butt of his gun and swings it
around at Grayson.
Dr. Fields, I don't want you to
move a muscle. If you're thinking
of bailing out, I will just turn
around and run over you.
There's silence between them as he is now driving too fast
for her to even think about jumping.
Do you have the algorithm? Where
was it?
In the park. Do you want it now?
Very slowly pass it over next to
me. Slowly.
As Grayson brings the purse up, she opens it wide, and drops
it next to him. Angry wasps buzz off in every direction. The
man is batting at them, and the car is swerving violently.
He hits a truck at an intersection and is crushed by the
crash. Grayson hits the back of the seat and is thrown to
the floor board. She crawls out, reaches in and grabs her
purse without regard for the wasps. Then she runs. She hails
another taxi, hops in, and they speed off.

Brooks, Rinku and a nurse are standing beside Tahir's bed.
Conversations are in quiet, low tones.

Rinku to Brooks,
There's a secret security room. I
saw it.
Listen. Listen to me Rinku. Do not
go near any bloody security room.
Just stay here.
A long silent pause.


I have to pee.
Brooks glaces over to see Rinku leave the room, but doesn't
look happy about it.
Rinku leaves. He doesn't intend to use the restroom. We
follow him up a level, and down a hallway.

Rinku's now standing outside the door. He cracks the door
open and listens.
Hewitt is talking on phone.
                       HEWITT (OC)
Call it want you want. But fact
is, I'm in charge now. Steve was
about to screw up the entire plan
by bringing her in here. She had a
chance, a long shot, at figuring
it out. (listens) No, she's gone.
For good. Look, just keep him in
his office, until you hear from
Rinku walks in. Hewitt is hanging the phone up while scoping
him out.
What the hell are you doing here?
Rinku acts like a scared mouse about to be eaten by a cat.
He alternates between looking at Hewitt, and looking at the
20 monitors showing the entire facility, inside and out.
Hewitt follows his every move.
                       HEWITT (Con't)
You little twit. You're scared out
of your mind, aren't you?
Rinku keeps circling.
After what I've been through, do
you think I'm scared, sir?
Damn. Listen to you. Even a little
pissant like you can have nice


Yes sir, but I don't think YOU'RE
very nice.
Tell me...what the shit do YOU
think is going on around here?
Sir, I think...I think you are
(looks at the monitors) watching
everything that goes on here, and
you and Mr. Miller, Mr. Muller,
(back at Hewitt) are making people
sick with your taint...tainted
water. I think you are sab..sabo--
--You really are a little twit.
SABOTAGE! Come on, say it with
me...Sab-o-tage. Not even close
you little fuck. I'm not
sabotaging any thing ...except
Hewitt jumps Rinku with quickness and force. Hewitt has
Rinku down on the floor, trying to get a head-lock on him,
but Rinku is agile, and squirms so much that Hewitt can't
get a hold. Hewitt finally gets him in a firm head-lock,
Rinku's helpless, gasping for air; his blurry vision picks
up Brooks coming in the room.

Brooks is on Hewitt and has him in a choke hold. Brooks'
massive black arms are already glistening from sweat. His
eyes are those of a soldier who must kill someone. Hewitt is
releasing Rinku. Rinku drops down beside Brooks,
Daddy, do not kill this man.
Please. What did you teach me? God
values human life! Vengeance is
his. Not yours!
Brooks's eyes are still in a kill mode, sweat dripping down
his face. Hewitt is fading, eyes on Rinku.
                       RINKU (Con't)
Daddy! Stop!
Suddenly Brooks releases Hewitt and tosses him to the side
like a rag doll. Brooks turns to Rinku.


Son...find some tape and rope.

Two guards walking behind him in handcuffs down a hallway.
Men, you need to know, this is a
big mistake. My own brother has
betrayed me. And YOU! You need to
let me go. I need to fix this
problem. Do you understand?
Not a word from the escorting guards.
Rinku comes in with rope and Duck Tape. Brooks starts tying
Hewitt up, then covers his mouth with the tape. Brooks
finishes, throws him over his shoulder, and walks out of the
security room. Rinku is watching.

Now in his office with guards at the door. Muller hangs his
head, and speaks in desperation.
At least would you find out what
happened to Dr. Fields. She's been
gone for two days. Did Tom kill
her? Did you? Just find out,
Both guards are still stoic.

Carrying Hewitt down some stairs into a BASEMENT ROOM. He
dumps him on a concrete floor, and simply walks away, and up
the stairs. Hewitt's angry muttering is incomprehensible.

Grayson makes a beeline for Gail, and hands her the
envelope. Gail opens it. A wasp flys out and Gail screams.
Grayson just swats it down to the floor and mushes it with
her shoe.


That wasp probably saved my life.
Gail, this is the algorithm.
Hurry. I'll meet you in the
simulator room. I have some other
business to take care of.

Brooks walks in.
Guard, you are relieved. Mr.
Hewitt is in lock up. Mr. Muller
is free to go.
                       SECURTIY GUARD
On who's authority?!
The guard stares at Brooks, and simply walks away.
Thank you. Thank you. Now, where
is Grayson?
Brooks, still at the door, looks out down the hall, then
simply walks out of the room, leaving Muller puzzled.
Grayson walks in.
Finally! Where the hell have you
been? You wouldn't--
You wouldn't believe it if I told
you. I heard about Tom. I'm sorry,
Steve, for you, but he tried to
have me killed.
You must have thought I was
I doubted you! I thought YOU were
the one...the one doing all this--
--but I'm not.


I know. I know. The whole
thing...it just all pointed to
you. I'm sorry.
I should never have let you go.
Go where?
Grayson, I need you in my life.
Well, look at it this way...I've
only been to D.C., not out of your
life, and now I'm back...and I
think I know how to make it rain!
Well, tell me.
                                         DISSOLVE TO
Grayson and Muller step off the elevator, walk to the iris
scanner, scan their eyes, and step into the simulator room.
Ladies and gentlemen, we have some
work to do. (turns to Grayson). Go
ahead, you said you wanted full
run of the place....
First, we're going to get the lab
batch containers cleaned and ready
to make one when the new formula
comes down--which is any minute. I
want you and you to check the
atomizer nozzles and clean'em
again. You and you re-calculate
the trade wind velocity.