From out of the collapsing Hyperdome emerges ELYSABETH: the spacecraft is a two-and-a-half mile-long cylinder from which six appendages sprout. At her top is a “head” of reflective silver, egg-shaped with the narrow end pointing out. From the right side of the vessel extends an “arm,” an angled tube shaped like the letter “L”. From her left side jut two small
“arms,” each covered with fins. From the bottom of the ship are two half-mile long pillars (legs) each supporting eighty-six blazing booster rockets.
The engines ROAR, propelling the ship upwards.
8.
Glass hemispheres housing trees and water speckle her back; myriad domicile windows and vapor vents scintillate on her sides and along her “arms” and “legs.”
Elysabeth climbs toward the stars, the Hyperdome crumbling and aflame beneath her. The ship’s wake is a pillar of smoke four miles wide.
ELYSABETH’S VOICE (V.O.)
If there were other habitable
planets, it would take a long time
to find them. I was built to
survive a millennium, possibly
longer. I had to be able to make
complex decisions upon which the
survival of humanity might depend.
EXT. OUTER SPACE
Elysabeth exits the Earth’s atmosphere; her steely skin is aglow but intact. The planet below her is blemished with white sores and veiled with thick black clouds.
ELYSABETH’S VOICE (V.O.)
My children were drained, vacuum-
sealed and frozen in my holds-- to
be resuscitated whenever I divine a new home.
Along the ship’s torso, limbs and head, metal irises and circular flaps open wide to reveal three-hundred and ninety-eight enhanced human eyeballs, each protected by a foot of pristine glass and contained in clear fluid. Ninety-three powerscopes extrude from the ship’s many curved surfaces.
Behind Elysabeth, Earth grows smaller and smaller...
INT. CRYOGENIC VAULT 47 - SAME
The cryogenic vault is lit by a yellow bulb in the center of the floor; thirty turquoise body-bags hang from a metal runner in the ceiling, like sides of beef. Within each sheer package is a drained human BODY, gaunt, frozen and curled up like a fetus; each person wears a blue bodysuit and metal rings around his or her wrists, ankles and neck.
Sven’s curled-up body is the penultimate in the line; the body-bags wobble queerly in the zero-gravity environment.
9.
Titlecard: 2160 (16 years after launch) The spacecraft Elysabeth glides through dark space; distant stars are mere pinpricks of light. Her enhanced human eyeballs observe the immediate area; her ninety-eight powerscopes scan the far horizons.
A denuded brown asteroid drifts slowly toward the vessel.
Counter-thrusters on Elysabeth’s torso spit out little white flames; the vehicle drifts out of the path of the spinning stone.
Titlecard: 2240 (98 years after launch) EXT. OUTER SPACE
The spacecraft Elysabeth glides toward an enormous beige-and-brown gas giant-- a Jupiter-like planet. Another world is dimly visible on the ship’s horizon; beyond it shines a brilliant white sun, enormous and intense.
Titlecard: 2243 (101 years after launch) Elysabeth flies away from an orange gas giant, itself orbited by seventeen moons. The sun is a tiny star in the distance behind her.
ELYSABETH’S VOICE
The nearest analogous solar system-
the one orbiting sun HD 70642- had
no habitable planets.
The ship drifts headfirst into the darkness of the galaxy.
Titlecard: 2403 (261 years after launch) EXT. DEEP SPACE
A large red star looms several light hours astern the ship.
One of the metal domes on Elysabeth’s back opens up. Inside the exposed, ninety-foot crater are sixty metal probes; the body of each is the size of a small house and shaped like a DRAGONFLY.
10.
Each of the Dragonflies’ bulbous eyes are covered with one-hundred-and-eleven optics: eyes, lenses and powerscopes.
The Dragonfly probes detach themselves from the nooks within the crater and float away from Elysabeth. They spread their mirrored wings (four on each probe) and aim the solar surfaces at the red sun ahead; their wings are luminous with light. Painted on the side of each craft are the names (SPIRIT, SERAPH, etc.) followed by sequence numbers.
Charged with solar power, the Dragonflies thrust in all directions away from Elysabeth.
Titlecard: 2549 (407 years after launch) EXT. ASTEROID BELT
A Dragonfly is crushed by a spinning asteroid. The metal insect implodes and then bursts into a silent smear of light.
ELYSABETH’S VOICE (V.O.)
Most of my assistants would not
return.
Titlecard: 2690 (548 years after launch) EXT. SOLAR SYSTEM
Icicles, pock marks and scrapes besmirch Elysabeth’s once-pristine metal dermis. More than a hundred of her eyeballs are gray with cataracts.
The ship thrusts around a giant mass of frozen water. Before her lies a lavender gas giant planet and in the distance, a star speckled with enormous sunspots.
ELYSABETH’S VOICE (V.O.)
The majority of space is empty, and the majority of matter in space is
gas. After more than half a
millennium, time was wearing down
my hull.
Titlecard: 2810 (668 years after launch) 11.
INT. LUNG BAY - SAME