One of the talking head interviewees in Memory, the Alien documentary says,
“It feels •very much• like
A SUMMONING.”
• Previously on The X-Files... •
“You sent for me. I'm here.”
I am Jack's inflamed
Sense of Rejection.
I felt like putting a bullet between the eyes of every panda that wouldn't screw to save its species.
I wanted to open the dump valves on oil tankers and smother all those French beaches I'd never see.
I wanted to Breathe SMOKE.
“Where did you go, psycho boy?”
“I felt like destroying Something Beautiful.”
“Get him to a fucking hospital.”
You are witnessing what may be the advent of a global contagion.
To kill everyone but the chosen.
Alien DNA mixed with our DNA.
Science given to them by an alien race.
Neither you nor I could save mankind from self-extermination.
I just changed the timetable.
Get to the hospital. Help is on its way, I promise.
That their fates were sealed since birth.
They were simply puppets.
The World will go on.
Just in my image instead of God's.
Who sent you?
You see a seemingly weak man.
But I'm the most powerful man in the world.
My name is Carl Gerhard Busch.
But I've been known by many aliases during my long career with the U.S. government.
It's been a humbling job, though I'm hardly known as a humble man.
I've been a witness to history, much of it violent, much of it an abomination of the values Americans hold dear.
I've had a privileged seat at the centers of power, held the reins of that power, making sacrifices few are capable of, of which even fewer are willing.
If people knew the truth, they'd riot in the streets.
Too much is made of the will to power, as if our will is free, our choices our own.
Our destinies are forged in our bones, made real by a raging impulse to self-destruct.
I'm not a bad man,
more a practical man.
I've taken certain gifts I was given and made good men great.
It is my Greatness.
I'm a father to two men who have figured more in the future than they might ever know.
Both would end up working for the FBI, both complex but dedicated men who sacrificed dearly, and in their dogged pursuits would end up paying a terrible price, searching for truths as I parceled them out, truths held only by the few who know the levers of power and the invisible hand controlling them.
Is there life out there?
Good heavens.
To doubt it is a failure of more than the imagination.
It is a failure to recognize the limits of our own stupidity, the nascency of our science, the rudiment of our tools.
We listen, we search.
We hope for a sign, as if our eyes and ears are good enough, our brains large enough, our egos small enough.
I'm an old man now.
I will leave my own mark upon history, more than presidents or tyrants.
I don't ask for loyalty and trust, the fleeting bonds of men.
I ask only for the years to show my sons and their sons
I was right.
What their father did
had to be done.
That's one small step for man,
one giant leap for mankind.
Cut.
Cut. Reset.
"The sacrifices are burnt on an altar. Why?
Well, the smoke rises.
Well, so what?
Well, God’s up in the sky and if the smoke rises up there, he gets a whiff of it, he can tell what the quality of the sacrifice was.
And you can laugh about that and you can think about it as primitive, but it’s not primitive, it’s artistic and it’s beautiful and it’s accurate and here’s why.
Because before the invention of the electrical light and maybe before the invention of fire, the closest a human could ever get to confrontation with the absolute unknown was to look up at the night sky.
Because the night sky, especially when it’s sprinkled with stars, confronts you directly with the fact of the infinite.
And to make the presupposition that God resides in The Infinite, and you’re having a direct experience of The Infinite at that moment, is not a primitive notion.
It’s a very intelligent and creative hypothesis and so the notion that God occupies the sky, and the day sky being as equally impressive as the night sky, is not a primitive hypothesis.
It’s a reflection of the nature of a certain kind of human experience.
You burn something and you send the smoke up.
God gets a crack at determining the quality of your offering, the quality of your sacrifice.
Well, let’s be perfectly clear about this.
If your sacrifices aren’t first rate, the nature of your relationship with the infinite is going to suffer dreadfully.
And that’s exactly what the story of Cain and Abel reveals."
INT. HOSPITAL -- ELEVATOR DOORS -- MORNING
The Stones "Sympathy for the Devil" kicks up as we wait...
The doors split open and HARLING MAYS steps out. HARLING has
a pony tail and a goatee and is probably wearing a Tommy
Bahama button down shirt.
We follow HARLING as he strides down the hall. With ear buds
in, HARLING points a Sanyo pistol-shaped cam corder at the
ATTENDING NURSE at the nurses' station, recording her...
HARLING MAYS
I'm on the list baby girl. Check
the list for Mr. Mays. Harling.
The Stones continue to wail as Harling strolls on, adjusting
the duffel bag he has slung over his shoulder.
EXT. HOSPITAL ROOM -- MOMENTS LATER
HARLING stands in the doorway looking in. He sees...
The MORNING NURSE is helping WHIP to stand. HARLING points
his camcorder at WHIP and the NURSE.
HARLING MAYS (O.C.)
If this is gonna turn into a sponge
bath, I'll come back.
NURSE
SIR-
HARLING immediately goes to WHIP and supports him.
WHIP
It's okay, Harling.
HARLING MAYS
That's right honey, I'm on the
list. Harling Mays. Some say they
Harling knew me.
HARLING boxes her out. She steps away.
HARLING MAYS (CONT'D)
Honey can you hustle us a couple of
daiquiris and a cocktail weenie?
On second thought just bring the
booze. I brought my own weenie.
No reaction as the NURSE collects the trash and towels.
HARLING focuses his camcorder on the NURSE and leaves WHIP in
an unsteady stance. HARLING films her and comments...
HARLING MAYS (CONT'D)
She's offended, and she should be. I'm a pig. And I hate me. That's what we have in common Nurse Ratched...we both hate me.
And she's gone. HARLING turns to WHIP.
HARLING MAYS (CONT'D)
Whip? What the fuck my man?
They're sayin', "Sweet Jesus, what
a fuckin' stud that pilot is."
You're a hero, no shit. You will
never pay for another drink in this
life time. There is crazy news
people all over, look at this shit--
HARLING helps WHIP to the window...
EXT. HOSPITAL ROOM -- PARKING LOT -- DAY
From WHIP's window we can see a slew of news vans with signal
towers as well as reporters milling about -- a small zoo.
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM -- DAY
HARLING and WHIP stare for a moment at the circus below.
WHIP doesn't last long and slowly returns to the bed as
HARLING continues to gawk.
49.
HARLING MAYS
Classic hero worship, you're a rock
star man. You gotta see the video
I've got -- I'm making a doc about
you, well us, y'know?
HARLING pulls an iPad out of his knapsack and flips it open.
He lets a collection of videos run...
HARLING MAYS (CONT'D)
This is outside your condo...
On HARLING's iPad we see footage of PRESS swarming outside
WHIP's condo. We also see the crash scene footage.
HARLING MAYS (CONT'D)
Look that's me, and that`s Mark
Mellon...you know that douchey
talking haircut from local Atlanta
channel 3? I said a few words.
Just straight talk, y'know?
WHIP's hands shake as he grabs the bed frame. HARLING takes
notice and stashes the iPad...
HARLING MAYS (CONT'D)
You okay Captain Whitaker? Easy...
HARLING helps him get settled. We see the beads of sweat on
WHIP's lip and forehead.
WHIP
The meds they're giving me are
fucking me up -- I'm all shaky and
dried out. I can't sleep good.
HARLING immediately picks up the small paper cup that holds
WHIP's pain meds. He fishes out the two pills and stares at
them. HARLING shakes his head.
HARLING MAYS
Aprazolam? That's generic Xanax and
this Hydrocodone is generic
Vicodin. It's shit, prolly
Canadian.
HARLING casually tosses the pills down his gullet and
expertly swallows them without water. He grabs WHIP's
medical chart and scours it as he prattles on...
HARLING MAYS (CONT'D)
We want the premium stuff. Blue
label...not the fucking well shit.
Where's the dihydromorphinone?
Or just some fucking Palladone
would suffice. What is this?
Fucking amateur hour over here?
Get that goddamned doctor in here.
You just saved a 100 people from
death, they should get your fuckin'
meds right.
(calls to the door)
YO! ROOM SERVICE!
WHIP
Listen Harling, leave it alone.
(HARLING CHILLS)
So you got my message and decided
not to call me back? Did you bring
me smokes?
HARLING MAYS
I decided to come by instead. And
yes I got your fucking message and
yes I brought you smokes.
HARLING hands WHIP a pack of smokes from his pocket. He also
pulls out a carton of smokes from his backpack.
HARLING MAYS (CONT'D)
Here is a fresh carton, enjoy. You
fucking earned it -- you smoke your
nuts off, champion. If I were you
I'd fire up right here in the God
damn room. Fuck'em, you're
immortal, you're a fucking God man.
WHIP
Harling...
WHIP motions with his hands to "calm down."
HARLING MAYS
Sorry Whip. It's just...this is
big time, man. You're a hero in a
time when we really need heroes.
WHIP
Shut the fuck up, Harling...Six
people died.
HARLING MAYS
96 people lived! When are you
gonna take yes for an answer? Pick
up the phone, man. Fuck.
HARLING pulls something from his vest pocket and puts it in
WHIP'S hand. WHIP looks at it and back at HARLING.
HARLING MAYS (CONT'D)
Here's a pint of Smirnoff and a few
Red Bulls. You know what I'm
sayin'? I know my customer.
HARLING continues to pull items from the bag.
WHIP
Harling, take the vodka with you.
HARLING freezes his frenzied energy with this odd command.
HARLING MAYS
What?! Take the vodka? Dude, are
you insane? I'm gonna just tuck it
in the bottom of your-
WHIP
Take the fucking vodka!
HARLING hears him this time and raises his hand and nods,
putting the VODKA back in his own duffel. HARLING tosses a
tee shirt, sweat pants and flip-flops on the bed, then...
HARLING MAYS
Okay man. Check it out.
HARLING holds up a silk Japanese Happi Coat, with elaborate
stitching depicting colorful birds flying around Mt. Fuji.
WHIP
Look, I'm tired man.
HARLING MAYS
I'm out. You rest up.
WHIP
You gotta come and get me,
tomorrow.
WHIP pulls his keys from the bag that CHARLIE gave him.
WHIP (CONT'D)
Here are my keys. Go to the condo
and bring me some nice clothes I
can wear, my phone charger and grab
the veal outta my fridge. It's
marked.
HARLING MAYS
The veal?
WHIP
Yeah, the veal that's in my
freezer.
HARLING MAYS
Done and done. What time you need
me here?
WHIP
Tomorrow. I'll call you.
HARLING MAYS
Send the mayday and you're outta
here in 7 minutes.
(A SMILE)
I got you a few stroke mags too.
I've been in hospitals. I know
what you need. JUGS, HOT MILFS in
heat. ASSMASTERS. You should just
stroke it all day. You're a hero --
know what I'm saying? If I was in
here I'd be jerkin' it all day
long. See, there's a smile.
HARLING puts his hand on WHIP's forehead in an attempt to
reassure him. A quiet moment before HARLING slips out.
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM -- 11 PM -- SAME EVENING
WHIP wakes up in a cold sweat. He is breathing heavy as he
scans the room. LIGHTENING FLASHES from outside the window.
Thunder RUMBLES.
WHIP looks to the night stand where we see a pack of nicotine
gum has been chewed through. WHIP uses his hands to get to
the edge of the bed. He roots through the duffle bag that
HARLING left and finds a pack of smokes and a Bic lighter
still in its package.
Determined to smoke, WHIP eyes a WHEEL CHAIR that has been
placed next to his bed. Leaning against the wheelchair is a
medical cane.
INT. HOSPITAL -- QUIET HALLWAY -- MOMENTS LATER
Wearing his Happi Coat (or robe), WHIP limps in to the empty
hallway with the use of his cane. He checks the quiet
corridor as he begins his quest...
INT. HOSPITAL -- FIRE DOOR -- 11:38 PM
The door swings open, and no one appears to be on the other
side. Now WHIP fights to push the heavy door open again to
slip through. A hand grabs the door and holds it. WHIP
walks into the sanctity of the stairwell.
INT. HOSPITAL STAIRWELL -- SAME TIME
We find the owner of the helping hand was NICOLE who returns
to a quiet spot along the wall of the stairwell as she
demurely smokes a cigarette.
WHIP
Thank you.
WHIP leans his cane against the wall and carefully pulls a
pack of smokes from his pocket.
WHIP (CONT'D)
I didn't think anyone would have
the same devious thought about
using the fire stairs to have a
smoke...
NICOLE smiles and looks down, awkward around men when she is
not loaded. She drops her cigarette which we see was barely
smoked as she maneuvers to leave.
WHIP (CONT'D)
Don't go. I'll be quiet.
He offers her a cigarette, she takes it.
WHIP (CONT'D)
We don't have to talk. Be nice to just smoke with someone.And they do. They sit in silence as the stairwell fills up with smoke. After a long beat... NICOLE Were you on the plane? WHIP studies her, she's beautiful in an exhausted way... WHIP Yeah, I was. Were you? Nicole shakes her head. NICOLE Where were you sitting? WHIP Up near the front. Again it falls silent as we let them smoke and think in the sanctity of the fire stairs. A VOICE breaks their silence. VOICE (O.S.) Tobacco's but an Indian weed, Grows green in the morn, cut down at eve; It shows our decay, We are but clay;...I love the smell of Nicotina in the morning. Smells like...victory. We hear a metallic rattle and WHIP and NICOLE look to the stairs. VOICE (CONT'D) Don't flee dear comrades! Really, wait for me, please. A GAUNT YOUNG MAN makes his way to their landing. He is dressed in a hospital gown and carrying an I.V. pole on which hangs a small bag of clear liquid. The man's hair has completely left him. His skin is gray. Eyes hollowed from his battle with cancer. GAUNT YOUNG MAN Can I bum a smoke? WHIP offers him a cigarette. He takes it and fires it up with a lighter he keeps stowed in the pocket of his gown. GAUNT YOUNG MAN (CONT'D) I should quit, my cancer might get cancer. (SILENCE) Joke. You guys in the plane crash? NICOLE He was. WHIP looks at the ground as the GAUNT YOUNG MAN studies him. GAUNT YOUNG MAN (it hits him) You're the fucking pilot. Nicole gives Whip a look. 55. GAUNT YOUNG MAN (CONT'D) I saw you on TV. Holy shit, man. Tough deal, but you walked away or it looks like you limped away. WHIP Yeah, I'm lucky. Goin' home tomorrow. GAUNT YOUNG MAN Home. Home for me is The Basement, they keep cancer treatment in the basement. I'm livin' here. WHIP You're living here? GAUNT YOUNG MAN No. I'm dying here. WHIP What kind of cancer?
GAUNT YOUNG MAN
Fibro-mixzoid sarcoma, soft tissue sarcoma. Very rare, God chose me.
GAUNT YOUNG MAN laughs.
WHIP
God chose you? You believe in God?
GAUNT YOUNG MAN
Fuck yeah bitch. You're a stupid fucker if you don't believe in God.
The GOD topic has silenced the stairwell...
GAUNT YOUNG MAN (CONT'D)
As soon as you realize that the
random events in your life are
God...you will live a much better
life. You spend your life
believing that you have all the
control over what happens.
Bullshit. The plane you're flying
goes down? Out of your control.
God gives you cancer. I have no
control over that. Did God give me
cancer? You bet your ass God gave
me cancer. You think if I begged
for cancer God would have given it
to me?
56.
No...because I assure you I have
begged for God to take it away -
and guess what? I have no control
over that.
GAUNT YOUNG MAN smokes the cig to the nub and rubs the
remains against the smooth concrete wall.
GAUNT YOUNG MAN (CONT'D)
Can I get another smoke? What's
wrong with you honey? You're
beautiful, do you know that? Do I
scare you? People either have to
pretend they don't see me or
they're drawn to me. It's funny
because people see me as being
close to the other side -- they
feel like I have power or wisdom.
They think I have the answers. Who
knows? Maybe I do. Death gives
you perspective. I lived my life
so indecisive, in a haze. But now
that I'm dying everything is so
clear. It all makes sense somehow.
I'm sorry but I can't get over how
beautiful you are? Look at your
arm, you an addict?
NICOLE looks at him. She nods.
GAUNT YOUNG MAN (CONT'D)
What's your name?
NICOLE
Nicole.
GAUNT YOUNG MAN
What do you do in the world Nicole?
She laughs, what a question.
NICOLE
Not much. I was a photographer and
then I was a masseuse and I wash
hair at a salon sometimes.
GAUNT YOUNG MAN
Where is it? I'll come by, I'm
easy, you can wash my head.
(SHE SMILES)
Do you think you're gonna die?
NICOLE laughs to keep from weeping.
57.
GAUNT YOUNG MAN (CONT'D)
You're not. You're not gonna die.
The men watch as NICOLE quietly cries, it's powerful.
GAUNT YOUNG MAN (CONT'D)
Don't you love her?
WHIP
I don't know her.
GAUNT YOUNG MAN
Bullshit, I do. Random act of God?
Don't think so. Survive a plane
crash to meet a gorgeous girl in a
stairwell. Fuck you man.
(he reflects, then...)
I'm sure they're looking for me.
My family just showed up from Utah.
You know it's bad when they start
flying in. Every morning is
special now, I'm so grateful. It's
a trip, wish I could bottle this
feeling I have...about how
beautiful every breath of life is..
GAUNT YOUNG MAN starts laughing. WHIP joins him.
GAUNT YOUNG MAN (CONT'D)
Can I get a smoke for the road?
WHIP
Here's a pack.
GAUNT YOUNG MAN
Thank you, I'll pass them out in
the cancer ward. Take care Nicole,
you're gonna be okay.
The GAUNT YOUNG MAN leaves, clanging away with his I.V. pole.
NICOLE wipes away her tears, we see her hospital bracelet as
well as her track marks.
NICOLE
Chemo brain. Chemo makes you
pretty foggy.
WHIP
Yeah?
NICOLE
They call it chemo brain, my mom
used to slur her words and get all
chatty.
WHIP
Your mom had cancer.
NICOLE
Breast cancer, she was only 54.
It's quiet.
WHIP
But why'd that guy ask you if you
were gonna die?
NICOLE
I dunno. I flat-lined twice in the
ambulance. Heroin addicts who use
needles tend to die. Especially
women for some reason.
WHIP
Is that right?
NICOLE
I have a pamphlet to prove it. A
girl from AA just came to see me --
(IT'S QUIET)
That guy was a trip. He made it
feel like, I dunno...we were the
last people left on the planet..
(drops her smoke)
...and together we should save the
world.
NICOLE steps on her cigarette and puts the nub in her pocket.
She begins to leave. WHIP stops her.
WHIP
Well, where should we live? If
we're gonna save the world, where
should we do that?
NICOLE laughs.
WHIP (CONT'D)
What?
NICOLE
You don't want me.
WHIP laughs.
59.
NICOLE (CONT'D)
What?
WHIP
You don't want me either.
NICOLE's laugh tapers off as she senses his honesty.
WHIP (CONT'D)
Where do you live?
NICOLE
Why you wanna come visit? It's
luxurious.
(silence between them)
I live in Bankhead, it's south
Atlanta, near the bus station.
WHIP
The luxurious bus station?
NICOLE
Yeah.
WHIP
I'll come visit you.
NICOLE
You're sweet.
WHIP
I will. What's your address?
She measures him.
NICOLE
I live at the Georgian Gardens on
Taylor street.
WHIP
Georgian Gardens?
NICOLE
Yeah.
WHIP
How long are you staying here?
NICOLE
Trying to stay as long as I can but
I don't have insurance to cover
rehab. I'll prolly be out
tomorrow.
60.
WHIP
Oh. Okay. And you're a masseuse?
NICOLE
Yeah.
WHIP
What kind of masseuse?
NICOLE
I've been every kind of masseuse
there is.
There is strong tension between them. An orderly busts
through the down the stairs. This breaks their stare.
WHIP
Good luck Nicole.
NICOLE
You too.
WHIP leaves NICOLE where he found her.
EXT. ST. FRANCIS REGIONAL MEDICAL HOSPITAL-LOADING DOCK-DAY
WHIP is wheeled out of a service exit by an ORDERLY who also
holds the duffle bag of WHIP's stuff around his neck. Whip no
longer wears the eye patch but has a butterfly bandage over
his left eye brow.
HARLING jumps out of his 2001 Cadillac STS and immediately
takes over, grabbing the duffel bag.
WHIP
Thanks Mike.
The ORDERLY tries to hand WHIP a medical file. HARLING
snatches it.
HARLING MAYS
Yeah, thanks Mike.
(Harling tips him)
Here's 20 American.
ORDERLY MIKE
Thanks. Good luck, sir.
HARLING hugs WHIP who hangs on tight. The ORDERLY spins the
chair around and heads back inside.
HARLING uses his key fob to remotely pop the trunk and stow
Whip's duffel.
61.
HARLING MAYS
This is how they get the Stones out
of Madison Square Garden, man. 4
smoked black limos fly outta the
VIP driveway and the fans jump on
the limos...mayhem. Those limos?
Empty. Meanwhile, Mick and the boys
go out the service exit into
delivery vans -- casual, rock star
type shit.
HARLING helps him into the front seat and they pull away.
The Stones, "Gimme Shelter" starts to play...
As they drive off, we see media mayhem collected in front of 53
the hospital. Trucks with towers, cameramen, stringers and
newscasters add to catering trucks and coffee stands as the
vultures wait for the carrion of sound bytes and footage of
survivors.
INT. HARLING'S CADDY -- DAY
Whip watches through the rear window -- the "Media Circus"
disappears as the Caddy rounds a corner. The back seat is
piled with Whip's clothes, most of them still on hangers.
HARLING lights a cigarette and hands one to WHIP who takes
it.
HARLING MAYS
I couldn't find any suitcases so I
just put your shit in grocery bags.
HARLING pulls a cold Becks from a cooler on the floor of the
back seat and uses a bottle opener that's been screwed to the
dash of his car next to the radio to open the beer. He
offers the beer to WHIP who waves it off. HARLING gladly
keeps it for himself... "Gimme Shelter" continues to play..."There really are
Four Quarters of a Whole.
And I think that maybe threw some people at the beginning of last season,
and even at the end of last season.
But I think that you see,
as you have seen, that they were puzzle pieces,
Four Puzzle Pieces to A Circle.
I wanted to tell
Mulder’s Story — Mulder's Struggle.
I wanted to tell
Scully's Struggle.
I wanted to tell
The Cigarette Smoking Man's Struggle,
and I wanted to tell
William's Struggle.
For me,
The Four Characters
who are central to The Mythology.”
— Chris Carter.
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