Outer Darkness (2023)

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Outer Darkness (2023)

Post by bunniefuu »

- Warning. Warning.

- Rimcor Control, this is

transport vessel Speculo

switching to lunar

approach, 699 by 50.

- My

sister gets home

and she is drunk as a skunk.

She can't come in

through the front

door like that, you know?

So I get this bright idea

to lower this rope down

to her like I'm

Rapunzel or something.

- Are you gonna play?

- Don't interrupt me

while I'm telling my lies.

One card.

Cute.

Ooh, straight.

So she's climbing

up this rope, right?

And she's way too drunk.

She ends up slipping and

hitting the side of the house.

Sounds like a horse

kicking the wall.

Um, a little more.

- Two for me.

Two cards.

- So, I reach out and I

grab her and she's dangling

there in my hand, like

we're in some sort

of cheesy action flick

and I can't quite hold

onto her, you know?

And she ends up slipping and

falling down onto the porch.

Crashes into the porch swing,

and there she is, laying

in a pile of twisted canvas

and two-by-fours.

Two cards, raise you $1.

- I'll see you,

and raise you one.

- Foster dad comes

running in at that point,

sees me hanging out the window

and he goes totally ballistic.

Sprints down the stairs,

finds my sister crawling

around on the porch

like a drunken lizard.

- Speculo, this

is Rimcor Control, over.

- Go ahead, Rimcor.

- Standby to reset

your session clock, over.

- Here we go.

- Roger that, Rimcor.

Session clock ready for reset.

- Roger.

Reset in five, four,

three, two, one.

- Session

clock has reset.

- Reset confirmed.

We read 0001.

- Just in time.

Imagine the universe managing

without a session clock.

- Alex, we're reading

a drop in cabin pressure.

We're cross checking

for integrity now.

Standby.

- Cabin pressure's normal.

- Roger that, Rimcor.

Standing by.

- You're going to die.

- What?

- What was what?

- You said something.

- No, I didn't say a thing.

- Rimcor, our session clock

is not responding, over.

Rimcor, this is a

Speculo. Do you copy?

Rimcor, this is Speculo.

Our session clock is not

correct. Do you copy?

- Speculo,

sorry about that.

We have an uplink

delay. Stand by.

- Standing by.

- On-hold music.

Are you serious?

It's one card for me.

That's appropriate.

- What?

- Nothing.

What was it like growing

up with birth parents?

The other clones want to know.

I could care less.

- Grew up in a small

town, Nowhere, USA.

- Two parents,

white picket fence.

- No fence.

- Well what were they

like, your parents?

- Parents?

- Held you in their laps?

Bedtime stories, birthday

parties, swimming lessons?

- Your foster parents

were okay, right?

I mean, most people aren't

looking for clone kids,

but they must have

taken an interest.

- Yeah, they only

wanted my sister,

and she pitched a fit

so they had to take me.

The love of a parent is

a very wonderful thing.

- Three for me.

- Speculo,

this is Rimcor,

cabin pressure has

normalized at 10.5.

Verify your session

clock for us, Alex.

- Session clock is

running 0015, over.

- Roger that.

We'll check back in 12 hours.

- Speculo out.

- Three jacks.

- You cheated.

- Nah, I don't have to

cheat, you suck at poker.

- Well, I was never

good at bluffing.

- Warning, warning.

- There's a problem

with the number

four ignition controller.

Take a meter and

check the circuit.

Check the conduit as well.

- Anything else,

oh mighty gestated one?

- Check the sensor and

don't touch the connectors,

they'll shock the

crap outta you.

Rimcor didn't-

- Rimcor didn't cover them.

Yeah, I know.

And because I'm a clone,

you think you gotta tell me

how to check a sensor.

- When you plug up the

toilet twice in one week,

um, yes, I do have to tell you.

- That's a bad design,

that's not my fault.

- Don't take it

personally, Gunderson.

Toilets are very

complicated instruments.

- Shove it, Peller.

- Babcock, do you copy?

Babcock, do you copy?

Babcock, do you copy?

Babcock, do you copy?

Babcock, turn off the music

or come down there

and rip it out.

- Oh hey, what's up, Peller?

- Meet Gunderson

in the engine bay

and give him a hand.

- I'm working on soil samples.

I have to have this done

before I reach Reno.

- Take a break and be a

second set of eyes for him.

- I thought super clone

didn't like my help.

Got his panties in the

twist last time I tried.

- I don't wanna

discuss it, Chuck.

Just be there if needs to help.

- All right.

If the honchos in Reno

bite a hunk off my butt,

you know who I'm

coming after, right?

I don't wanna

discuss this Chuck.

God, what a waste

the good looks.

Might actually ask her out

if she wasn't such a hag.

- Your mic's still on, Chuck.

- Sorry, Peller.

- Reese, do you copy?

- Go ahead, Peller.

- Just a heads up, Mark-

- I see you.

- Go ahead, Peller.

- We...

We're having a problem

with the number four

ignition controller.

I might need you up

here on navigation

if Gunderson has

detected the problem.

- Copy that.

How is Gunderson doing?

- Why do you ask?

- He seems

a little on edge.

I can check his

medical file for you,

but I will need

your access code.

- I'll handle it.

Check the flight recorder

for ignition data

in the last 24 hours.

- Copy that.

Babcock, this is Reese.

Do you copy? Over.

This is Reese.

Do you copy? Over.

- Go ahead, Reese.

- I'm gonna be on

navigation if you

need my help while

teching with Gunderson.

- Copy that.

- By the way, have you

spoken with Peller recently?

Does she seem all right to you?

- She seems fine. What's up?

- She seems a little on edge.

I was wondering if

you'd heard anything,

Anything between

her and Gunderson.

Something that we might

all need to worry about.

- No, I haven't heard anything,

but I don't have access to

the comm system like you do

so I can't eavesdrop in on

everyone's conversations.

- Aye, Babcock, you make me

sound absolutely Machiavellian.

That means devious, by the

way, in case you didn't know.

- Yeah, I know what

it means, you weasel.

And a weasel is a

grubby little varmint

that crawls around

underneath people's porches,

in case you didn't know.

- Yes, and they also

have very sharp teeth.

Have a nice day.

- Rimcor, this is Speculo

Communications Engineer Reese.

Do you copy? Over.

- Gunderson, you copy?

- Go ahead, Peller.

- Switching on

rocket pre-stage one.

- All

right, copy that.

- Pre-stage is set.

Ignition control shows

green, pyro buses one

through four are go.

- Roger that.

Testing pyro bus, stand by.

Pyro bus one is online.

Pyro bus two is online.

Pyro bus three is online.

Pyro bus four is...

Oh wait.

- Say again?

Gunderson, say again.

- Peller, we got a problem here.

- Someone write a joke

about you on the wall?

- These conduits

are fitted with pre-heaters.

They should all be warm,

but number four is cold.

- Freezing or just cold?

- Cold, like room temperature.

I can touch it.

This doesn't make sense.

If the pre-heater was dead, the

entire thing would ice over.

- Condensation, maybe?

- Negative.

Condensation would

indicate a change

in atmospheric pressure.

All the conduits would ice over.

Room temperature

in here is normal.

- A break in the line somewhere?

- The

line shows continuity.

There's not a single

blip in the signal.

- Well, a burn is the

only way to know for sure.

A few seconds should do it.

- Roger

that. Fire on four.

- Roger, make your way on

back up to the flight cabin.

- All right, copy that.

- What was that?

- Uh, uh, nothing.

- You touched the

connectors, didn't you?

- No, no I didn't.

- I see you.

- Speculo,

this is Rimcor. Over.

Speculo, this is

Rimcor, do you copy?

- We need to initiate a burn

test on all four engines.

- Standby, Speculo.

- Standing by.

Rimcor is on it.

- I

feel better already.

- Say again, Rimcor?

Repeat last transmission.

- Speculo, this

is Rimcor. Do you copy?

- Radio check, Rimcor?

- Copy

that, X-band is 10-7,

and your DSN is five-by-five.

Your transmission

is clear, over.

- Roger that,

Rimcor. Standing by.

- What was that all about?

- Nothing.

- You okay?

- Yes.

- All right.

- Are you sure?

- What?

- You said something.

- I

didn't say a thing.

- Quit playing

around, Gunderson.

- I'm

not playing around.

- You've been messing

with me all day,

and now it's pissing me off.

- Peller, I don't mess around

with people, all right?

And I certainly don't

like being messed with,

if that's what's going on here.

- No.

Sorry, I...

I must be getting

an ear infection.

- Yeah, between your ears maybe.

- Speculo,

this is Rimcor, over.

- Uh, go ahead, Rimcor.

I'm putting you on speaker.

- We're not seeing any

variants in bus four.

Can you confirm? Over.

- We did a physical check.

Conduit four is cold.

We, we suspect a break

in the line somewhere.

- There is no break.

- Speculo,

we register a failure

in control module four, over.

- Roger that, Rimcor.

- Speculo, we

recommend you reroute

pyro bus four to the main

engine control module.

Do you copy that?

- The sensor is fine.

It's passing data.

- Copy that, Rimcor.

Standing by.

- Peller, there's nothing

wrong with the sensor,

the f*ring module or the bus.

- We follow protocol.

We work the steps and let

the gear heads figure it out,

so in the meantime, we

reroute the controller

like they said.

- Tell me, is even a basic

understanding of physics

a requirement for your job?

- You'd think so, wouldn't you?

- All right.

All right, Reese.

It is time.

Time for a little stinkypoo.

- Hey, how's it going?

- Why, hello, Babcock.

What do you want?

- Just passing by, thought

I'd check in on you.

- How reassuring.

Don't you have some low IQ

task to perform somewhere?

- Yeah, I believe I do.

- Oh.

I'll get you Babcock!

Who's got the

stink b*mb, yeah

Got the stink b*mb, uh

Yeah, Reese

Uh

Uh

- What's that?

- A hole flexing from

temperature change?

- No, it's never

done that before.

You think a breach?

- No, I think it's just flexing.

Speculo's an old

gal, but she's sound.

Rimcor, do you copy?

- Go ahead, Speculo.

- We're ready for

that burn test, over.

- Roger, Speculo.

That's a go.

- Roger.

Pyros primed and armed.

Initiating burn in five,

four, three, two, one.

- Speculo,

your burn is confirmed.

Speed is now 5300 knots,

trajectory is unchanged.

Over.

- Rimcor, our burn failed.

I repeat: our burn failed.

- Say again, Speculo.

- Our burn failed. Over.

- Negative on that.

Your speed has increased

by 193 knots. Over.

- Standby.

- Obviously the

rockets didn't fire.

- Rimcor, this is

Speculo, you copy?

- Go ahead, Speculo.

- We're going to initiate

another burn test.

- Speculo, be

advised you're a long way

from moon base Reno.

We recommend you

conserve your fuel, over.

- We'll keep the burn under

three seconds, Rimcor.

Initiating now.

Pyros primed and armed.

Burn in five, four,

three, two, one.

- This is crazy.

This is crazy.

- Rimcor, our

second burn failed.

I repeat, engines

did not ignite.

There is no change in our speed.

- Negative, Speculo.

We confirm your burn was

successful at five plus three,

seven plus four, one.

Your speed has increased

to 15530 knots.

- Their instruments are haywire.

There's interference in

the downlink or something.

- Could all their instruments

verify the same wrong data?

A downlink malfunction

would mean inconsistencies,

scrambled output, even

a broken voice signal.

- Oh. Well, I guess the

rocket's fired then.

Tell me, Peller, did

you feel the vibrations?

'Cause I didn't.

- Maybe...

Maybe our transmissions are

ghosting off another ship.

One of those new

government rigs.

- Right, yeah.

And maybe our signal

turned into ice cream

and got swallowed

up by a black hole.

Come on.

- Speculo,

this is Rimcor. Over.

Speculo, this is Rimcor.

Do you copy?

- Tell them

that their

instruments are wrong.

That your speed, I

mean, check your speed.

It hasn't changed in 48 hours.

- Okay!

- Speculo,

this is Rimcor. Over.

- Just let me think.

Just check the air in here,

it's hard to breathe.

- This is Rimcor,

do you copy?

- Rimcor, this is

Speculo. Do you copy?

- Go ahead, Speculo.

- Go ahead,

go ahead, go ahead.

- Speculo, do you copy?

Speculo, this is

Rimcor. Do you copy?

- Uh, yeah, we copy.

We need to run diagnostics

on our speed indicator.

It may take a few minutes.

Rimcor, do you copy?

- Roger that, Speculo.

- Speculo out.

- What are you doing?

- Raising safety priority.

All the hatches will

lock automatically.

- Great, you don't

trust this thing either.

- It's protocol, Gunderson.

Just making sure the

speed indicator isn't

the only failure.

- The speed indicator

is working fine

unless somehow dead

rockets made us go faster.

- Obviously something

weird is going on here

and we have to

think this through.

- What is there to

think through, Peller?

You flip[ed the switch,

nothing happened.

Inanimate objects don't

generate complete sets of data.

Now, get Rimcor on the horn

and tell them that

there's something wrong.

Don't get us all k*lled

because you don't want a

bad mark on your review.

- You don't know when

to shut up, do you?

You're a good site manager,

not a bad engineer,

but you can be a massive

pain in the neck.

So, shut your mouth

and let me do my job.

- Maybe that's where

the problem is.

- Maybe you should

say what you mean.

- I think maybe you

missed something in

the f*ring sequence.

- I didn't miss something.

- All right, let

me go through it.

Let me double check everything.

No, but you're not

gonna do that are you?

Because you're afraid

that I can do your job

better than you can.

- You have less than 20

hours in the flight seat.

Not letting you try anything

until you're qualified.

- You know Rimcor is trying

to get rid of you, right?

You've seen the new pilots

that come outta the university,

they're just kids,

and Rimcor won't see

a pay increase for years.

So don't be shocked

when you show up one day

and you find that pink

slip in your locker.

Maybe then you can explain

to your ex-husband why you

defaulted on your mortgage.

- The company can

replace anyone,

especially a neurotic clone

who thinks he can

pilot a transport.

Now, we are two

hours from drifting

outta communication range.

So unless you wanna be

a floating popsicle,

I suggest you find some answers.

- Where would you

like me to start?

- We check the pyros again.

Only this time we log

the exact temperatures.

We run continuity tests

and measure the

resistance on each one.

Run diags in the

entire computer system.

Gunderson?

Gunderson!

Babcock, do you copy?

- Go ahead, Peller.

- Gunderson-

Gunderson is headed your way,

stop him and have him call in.

- I just passed

through the deck hatch.

I didn't see anyone.

- What is that jerk clone up to?

- Come again, Peller?

- Nothing, disregard.

Enough!

Gunderson!

Babcock, you listening?

Reese, you hear me?

You clowns better

stop your head games

or you can kiss your

contracts goodbye.

- You found out it doesn't?

- Peller thinks you're

playing head games.

What's up with that?

- Knock it off.

Hey, knock it off.

- What?

You're the closest thing we got

to a pet monkey around here.

- Yeah, well we're all

pet monkeys to Rimcor.

- Oh, well, now is the

winter of our discontent.

How come you don't

introduce me to your sister?

- Why don't I feed her

to a pack of wild hyenas?

- You didn't answer Peller.

What's going on?

- Headset malfunction.

- Yeah, right.

- You know, I don't know why

Piller thinks I need you here.

- Yeah, it's not like

you sit around smoking

instead of doing your job.

So what are we looking at here?

- We had a burn fail.

Rimcor says

everything's hunky dory.

Peller knows it's not.

But she won't stand

up to her masters.

So, here we are.

Like a broken down

garbage truck 10,000 miles

from the nearest gas station.

All because birth baby

wants to keep her job.

- Well, we all want

to keep our jobs,

birthers and clones alike.

- Sick of the way they treat

us, like we don't even exist.

- You graduate from engineering

school like the birthers?

- I graduated with honors.

- You make rank and get hired

at Rimcor like the birthers?

- Yeah.

- You get paid

like the birthers?

- What's your point?

- I think you know my point.

- Rimcor treats us differently.

- Oh yeah. And how's that?

- Come on, you know how it goes.

They act differently

when we're not around.

- If you're not around, how do

you know they act different?

- I knew

you'd be clueless.

- Circuit is good,

conduit is clear.

- What's the temperature?

- 63 degrees.

Hey, can I get a hit of that?

- What happened to Mr. Health?

- Yeah, well I'd rather

die of lung cancer

than listen to you complain.

- So where were you hatched?

- Century Tech.

Great state of Georgia.

You?

- Morris Lab. Dayton.

- Yeah?

Go Buckeyes.

- You ever think of what

it's like to have a family?

You know, someone to

pass something down to?

- Yeah, what clone hasn't?

But we all go the same,

birthers and clones alike.

- Yeah, but we don't pass

anything down, do we?

No legacy, no

stories handed down.

Just the next iteration

manufactured, barcoded,

serialized and sent off to work.

And when we die, it's like

we never existed at all.

You ever date of birther chick?

Nah.

You haven't have you?

- I don't remember.

- Listen to you.

All your talk of equality

and how we're all the same,

but you know as well as I do,

that some birther chick finds

out that you're a clone,

she'll drop you

like a bad habit.

Where is your dignity?

- Dignity.

You want to talk about dignity?

How dignified is

it to sit around

and mope like a little kid?

Yeah, my love life

sucks. So what?

All clones are limited in

their own way, you know?

At least I do something

about it instead

of wallowing in

my own self pity.

- I want respect.

That's not self pity.

- Yeah, well the funny

thing about self pity is

it's kind of like peanut butter;

you can spread it on anything.

I wouldn't mind dating

a birther chick, though.

That is, until she

kicks me to the curb.

- Heard that.

Pretty good about

the peanut butter.

- Saw it on a

bumper sticker once.

- Wow.

One more and we would

have a bridge game.

- Well, that's assuming anyone

would wanna be your partner.

- What do you want, Reese?

- Well, hello to

you too, Gunderson.

Babcock, Rimcor wants those

soil samples at 1600 hours.

That's three hours from now,

in case you didn't know.

- Thank you.

I lose track of time in

the presence of your glow.

- Well, I trust that

everything is going well

in the grubby little

world of engineering.

- Don't pretend like you're not

eavesdropping in

on the comm units.

- Gunderson, I am

a tier two officer.

I'm responsible for all

communications here on the ship.

- Eavesdropping is just

one of his hobbies.

- All right, you delivered

your message from Rimcor

like a good little lackey.

Now b*at it.

- You know, you ought to think

about your future, Gunderson.

- What? You mean when you're

living in mommy's basement?

- Like when I'm site manager,

and you're an

unemployed alcoholic

crying about how

you're dying alone.

- If you want to keep

all of your teeth, Reese,

I suggest that you

get outta here.

- Well, I'd hate to

miss out on that,

but I've got some

real work to do.

- Oh, really?

Well I brought gifts.

- Oh, Reese, maybe

we can be friends.

- Yeah, we can. Can't we?

- No.

- I don't want any part

of your little bribe.

- I'll take his.

- A forthright man.

I like that about you.

- Kiss off.

- I will have you know

that I have decided to

forgive that little childish

prank that you pulled.

- Oh really?

I was worried

about that all day.

- Yeah, I bet you did.

I'm glad that we have a moment

alone to talk, Gunderson.

- I mean it, Reese. Back off.

- Once again, you

have completely

misunderstood my intentions.

- And once again, you

mistake my interest.

- Hear me out.

I believe that you are ready

for a command of your own.

No, I'm serious.

You have the experience,

you have the know-how,

your record is

clean as a whistle.

You should be

piloting this ship.

- Gimme a break.

- We all know that

Peller's losing it, right?

I think she's hiding something.

And I, for one, would

like to find out what

that something is before

she turns this ship

into a floating meat locker.

Peller has privileges

that we don't,

that's what's holding us back.

- If you have a problem

with the command structure,

I suggest that you send another

little coded message to Rimcor.

- So you listen in as well.

- No, just a hunch.

But you confirmed it.

- Gunderson, wait.

Wait, would you just,

would you just listen to me

for one second?

Peller can be relieved of

her command due to sickness

if we submit a form 32.

Now, I can do that for us,

but I will need consensus.

We all sign off on it and boom.

You're the new pilot.

I just need your access code.

- Why don't you

just use your own?

- I am like six months

until I get Rimcor's

little certification.

But what do you say, right?

You give me your access

code for like 30 seconds,

you're the new stick jockey.

Right? Picture it.

You're gonna be in the club,

guy's buying you drinks,

girls flocking around.

Girls love pilots.

I just need your access

code for 30 seconds,

and holy Toledo, as they say

in your little mud patch,

you're the new pilot.

What do you say?

- You done?

I got work to do.

So do you.

- Yes, I believe I do.

- Reese, I'm gonna

b*at your face in.

- I see you.

- What?

- I said "What do you want?"

You called me up here.

- Yeah. Right.

What do you know about

confinement sickness?

- Mm, you mean like

claustrophobia?

- No, more like psychosis.

- You having some

sort of trouble, Alex?

- No.

No.

It's Gunderson, there's, there's

something wrong with him.

- Yeah, no kidding.

- No, I mean, he laughed

like this, this little kid,

and then he ran off.

- Yeah, we are talking

about Gunderson, right?

- I, I think there's

something wrong with him.

I think he's suffering

from some kind

of confinement disorder.

And he was acting all skittish

after we tested the pyro buses.

I, I think he's hiding

somewhere on the flight deck.

We gotta find him.

- Well, there's nothing up

here except old relay boxes.

Where, where, where do

you think he's hiding?

- I don't know.

I, I don't know.

He must have slipped through

the hatch before you got here.

- I don't see how

that's possible.

- Just look for him, Chuck.

- All right, copy.

- Chuck, something is

really wrong with him.

I'm worried he's

gonna hurt himself.

- Yeah, or us.

- Rimcor, this is Speculo. Over.

- I can hear you.

- Rimcor, this is

Speculo. Do you copy?

- Go ahead, Speculo.

- We have a medical situation.

An engineer, Gunderson,

is suffering from some,

some kind of psychosis, over.

- Roger that.

Can you be more specific? Over.

- I think he's

suffering from some kind

of confinement sickness.

- He sees you.

- His behavior is erratic.

- The others

want to k*ll you.

- He, he's hiding

somewhere on the ship.

Please advise. Over.

- We copy you, Speculo.

Standby.

- Surprise!

- Speculo, we

have a medical protocol

for you, over.

- Go ahead.

- Make sure the

subject is calm and lying down.

Give them two aspirin,

no more than four.

Take their temperature

twice daily.

- You're, you're not listening.

He's completely psychotic

and he's hiding

somewhere on the ship.

He's whispering crazy things.

Rimcor, do you copy?

- We copy, Speculo.

We're trying to ascertain

the situation, Alex,

but we have a problem.

If Gunderson is hiding,

how can you hear him? Over.

- You don't understand.

He's, he's, he's hiding,

he's sneaking around.

- They

all want you dead.

- Say

again, Speculo. Over.

Do you copy, Speculo? Over.

- We copy, Rimcor.

Medical protocol received,

implementing now.

Standby.

Rimcor, the situation is

under control, five-by-five.

We'll contact you in one hour.

Speculo out.

- Well, have you found

our lost little clone,

or has our happy home

in the stars become

"Alice in Wonderland?"

- What character are you?

The White Rabbit

or the Mad Hatter?

- Mm.

You know, I've always been

partial to the Knave of Hearts.

- Huh.

You strike me as a Jabberwocky.

- Trailer trash.

Rimcor, this is Speculo.

Do you copy? Over.

- Speculo,

what is your access code

from the secure channel, over.

- Access code 042892, over.

- Go ahead, Speculo.

- Communication

Specialist Reese speaking.

Our pilot is suffering

from equilibrium issues.

I am requesting a temporary

access to the flight log, over.

- Stand by, Speculo.

- Standing by.

- Speculo,

your request for access

to the flight log

has been denied.

Is there another request

on this channel? Over.

- No other requests.

- Roger that.

Over.

- Well, he

was right for once.

Trillium.

It doesn't make

any sense. Why...

Conduit's not there.

Phantom conduit?

- Warning, warning.

- Gunderson, get to the

engine bay. We're losing fuel.

Gunderson!

Babcock, do you copy?

Reese, do you copy?

- Warning, warning.

- Gunderson, we are

losing fuel. Do you copy?

Gunderson?

All of it's there.

False alarm.

How could that...

Gunderson.

Gunderson!

No more games. I'm

not playing anymore.

The conduits were

fine, weren't they?

You sabotaged the engine boat.

You know, maybe I was a little

hasty about your flight skills.

I'm sorry for calling

you a knockoff.

You know, we're all knockoffs

in some way, aren't we?

It's Trillium, isn't it?

You know, I found

their little conduit.

It doesn't show on the

schematics, I checked.

Why would they hide it from us?

Huh?

Comfortable?

I know why they hid the conduit.

- What conduit?

- Trillium wants to

sabotage the mining project.

Dump all the gas into

space, cause a shortage,

jack up prices.

It won't work, you know.

- What won't work, Peller?

- You want to k*ll me

and take my command,

but you can't pilot

the ship on your own.

- You're insane.

I don't want to k*ll anyone.

- How's this?

We land at Moon Base Reno.

Tell them we have

technical difficulties.

We gas up, go back to Earth,

and then no more transports

until your friends

at Trillium say the word.

How's that?

- Put the g*n down, Alex.

- What are you doing?

- I said put the

g*n down out, Alex.

- Stay back.

Why didn't you stop?

Why didn't you stop?

- Peller, this

is Babcock. Do you copy?

- Gonna get you.

You're going to die.

- Peller, this

is Babcock. Do you copy?

- Babcock!

Babcock, I...

I'm on my way to

the flight cabin.

Stop it! Stop it!

- Meet me in the flight

cabin in 10 minutes.

- Speculo, this

is Rimcor. Do you copy?

- No.

- He knows.

- Reese, this is

Babcock. Do you copy?

- Why, hello, Babcock. Go ahead.

- Have you spoken

with Peller recently?

- Can't say she has.

What about you?

Has she graced you with

her correspondence?

- Look, cut the crap man.

I'm really worried about her.

She seems like she's losing

her grip or something.

- Yeah, and what's brought you

to this alarming conclusion?

- Because I just spoke

with her, you moron.

Parasite.

- Speculo,

this is Rimcor. Over.

Speculo, this is Rimcor. Over.

Speculo, this is Rimcor. Over.

- Go ahead, Rimcor.

- Stand by to reset

your session clock, over.

- Roger that.

Session clock ready for reset.

- Roger.

Reset in five, four,

three, two, one.

- Session clock is reset.

- Reset

confirmed, reading 0001.

- Roger that.

- Reese, you scared

the crap out of me.

- Hey, go easy on the

sugar there, dirt man.

- What do you want? I'm busy.

- Poor Babcock,

always failing to see

the grand opportunities

that are right

in front of that broken

working class nose of yours.

- Yeah, I got my nose

broken in a street fight,

and I could break yours if

you don't get on with it.

- You know, you and I,

we have a lot in common.

Not socially, of course, but

we both control analytics

that are vital to Rimcor, right?

I control data and

communications,

and you control

soil and moon gas.

But together we control the

very lifeblood for Rimcor.

Those other two are

basically glorified janitors.

- Hurray for us.

- Now, focus that short

attention span that you have

for me for just one second,

and think about the

incredible position

of power that we are in.

- Look, Reese, I think I know

where you're going with this.

I gotta tell you, I

wouldn't join forces

with you if you were

my Siamese twin.

- Would you quit

playing with your toys

for just a moment and...

You lost a sneeze or something?

- No, I just wanted you

to shut up for a second.

- Look, if we go to the union

and we enter into

a joint contract,

because stem jobs are a

separate bargaining group,

Rimcor would be

forced to renegotiate.

- Um, no, I'm pretty sure

that it would be easier

and cheaper to just

fire us and replace us.

You really think you're

that good at boot licking?

- They can't just

fire us, you moron.

It's called a union, that

would be against the law.

- Pretty sure it would

be easier to just fire us

and replace us.

- And millions would

pour from their pockets

in the two days that

it took to do that.

- Uh, more like six days for me.

Half an hour for you, maybe.

- You'd be surprised, you-

You'd be surprised how long

it would take to replace us.

We are the very

lifeblood of Rimcor.

Those other two are one screw

up away from being axed.

But how could Rimcor say no

when we have them boxed in?

All of their profits are

jammed up in arbitration.

- Hold that for me.

- Yeah, sure.

Ah!

- Yeah, that's hot.

- Yeah, you could

have said something!

- Uh, well, where would

the fun in that be?

Now, are you going

to get out of my lab

or am I gonna have

to motivate you?

- Just think about

what I said, okay?

- Weasel.

- Undergraduate.

- You want to tell

me what's going on?

- Okay.

Gunderson k*lled himself,

committed su1c1de.

- Wow, uh...

How?

- He must have gone

out the airlock.

- No, that doesn't make sense.

He's gotta be around

here somewhere,

that little drama queen.

- He's dead!

He didn't go out the air lock.

I sh*t him.

He tried to k*ll me.

He came at me.

I wanted him to stop,

but he kept coming.

- Wow.

Did he have a

w*apon or something?

- He was whispering.

- You sh*t him for whispering?

- You don't get it.

You don't get it.

He was trying to drive me crazy.

- Gunderson drove

me crazy every day,

I never k*lled him for it.

- Gunderson was sneaking

around, playing tricks,

making noises to make me cr*ck.

He wanted my job.

- So you sh*t him?

- He's working for a

company called Trillium.

I found their label on

one of the conduits,

a conduit that doesn't

show in the schematics.

- Alex.

Trillium.

Trillium is a tech

company, okay?

They make flight simulators.

What do they want with Moon Gas?

- I'm telling you.

I'm telling you

that they want it

and they're causing the

malfunctions on this ship.

They don't care if

they k*ll all of us.

- How did you find

out about this?

- It's complicated.

- Okay, try dating a

schizophrenic chick.

I know complicated.

What, did you find spy equipment

in Gunderson's

locker from Trillium?

- No, no, no.

He, he lied about

the engine failure.

He said the conduit

was freezing.

And I mean, the

conduit's supposed

to be freezing, but it's not,

and the sensor is passing data

but that data is wrong

and Rimcor, of course,

says it's right and

the igniter is good,

but it's not because...

Because the burn failed.

- Okay.

But if the sensor's passing

data, then Rimcor is right.

- The sensor's passing

data, except it's not,

don't you get it?

- No, but I don't

get any of this stuff.

- Someone is making it seem

like the system is working.

- Is it possible

that it is working?

- Those rockets didn't fire.

- Speculo, this

is Rimcor Control, over.

Stand by to reset your

session clock, over.

- Shut up!

Shut up! Shut up!

We are 10,000 miles from

the moon with no rocket,

so you can take your

session clock and shove it!

Sorry about that, Rimcor.

We're experiencing

some difficulties.

Can we delay that reset?

- Roger that, Speculo.

Leaving for now.

- Look, Rimcor said

the burn was good.

Those rockets didn't fire.

Gunderson verified it.

None of it makes

sense, unless...

- Unless what?

- Gunderson damaged the sensor.

- I thought you said

the sensor was working.

- It's like a distraction

or a diversion.

- A diversion

from what Alex?

- The burn fail!

He's working for Trillium.

- Trillium, the tech company

that makes flight simulators.

- Yes.

Gunderson wanted my command.

I wouldn't let him have

it, he became hostile,

he threatened me.

- Gunderson threatened

you by whispering.

- He tried to k*ll me!

He got all crazy in the

eyes and he came at me.

- Okay.

Calm down.

I believe you, okay?

- No, you don't.

- Yes I do.

I just needed to get

all the information.

This is a lot to take in.

- You're just saying

that because you

think I m*rder*d him.

- No, I don't think you

m*rder*d anyone, Alex.

Yeah, Gunderson and Trillium.

You know, he's, he's always

been after our jobs, you know?

He probably wanted my

job too, that jerk.

It's a cool job, right?

Look, you stay here.

I'm gonna go and

I'm gonna make sure

there's no more sabotage

from Gunderson, okay?

You should have seen it, Reese.

I think that she's

completely lost it.

- I told you this would

happen two days ago.

Did you record it?

- No, I didn't

record it, you moron.

She was standing right there.

You should have seen

the look in her eye.

I'm pretty sure that

she k*lled Gunderson.

Peller.

- Turn off your headset, Chuck.

- I was just talking to Reese

about how Gunderson went crazy.

Couldn't find any

sabotage from Trillium.

- No.

No, I'm sure you didn't.

You, my friend, have caused

enough damage on your own.

- What are you talking about?

- You're working with Gunderson.

- What are

you talking about?

- You've all been

scheming against me.

- That's insane.

I mean, you're not

insane, I'm just,

I just mean that...

Peller, I am very confused.

- Are you confused, Babcock?

- Yes.

And look, I just wanna

mind my own business, okay?

I just want to go home.

I don't want anyone's job.

I barely want my job, you know?

- How are you planning to do it?

- Do what?

- That's right.

You're a chemical engineer.

You must know 100 ways

on how to poison someone.

- I don't want to

poison anyone, Alex.

- Just one drop from one

of your formulas and,

poof, heart failure.

- I've had enough of this.

Give me your g*n.

- Sure.

- Name?

- Peller, Alex, A.

- Rank?

- Flight Officer, First Class.

- Do you feel

people are trustworthy?

- Generally, yes.

- Yes or no?

- No.

- Have you ever

k*lled an animal?

- Yes.

- What are you afraid of?

- I'm, I'm not really sure.

- Were you ever

locked in a dark room?

- Yes.

- Do you eat rare meat?

- No.

- Are you happy?

- Yes.

- Are you happy?

- No.

- What are you afraid of?

- I told you, I, I don't-

- Did he ever hurt you?

- What?

- What are you afraid of?

- I don't know.

- Why do people hate you?

- What are you talking about?

- What are you afraid of?

- I don't know.

- What are you afraid of?

- Suffocating!

Where?

Slow down.

Just slow down.

I can't let him free.

So, just breathe.

You know every inch

of this ship, Peller.

You know what came.

Here comes sector four.

Reese.

Reese, this is Peller,

where do you...

Do, do, do, do you copy?

- Go ahead, Peller.

- I...

I wanna check the

bio tracking system,

what do you read as my location?

- Of course.

Is there a problem

I should know about?

- No, just a, a routine check.

Just want to... just wanna

verify it, keep Rimcor happy.

I'll, I'll put in

the logs later.

- Roger that.

You are in sector

three, corridor six,

right past the main

containment module.

- Roger that.

- What are you up to,

little birth baby?

- Containment module,

containment module.

Alert. Alert.

Alert. Alert. Alert.

- All right, Reese.

Let's play.

Reese!

- Stop right there, Alex!

Yeah, that's right.

I've got a g*n, too, and

unlike Gunderson and Babcock,

I won't hesitate to use it.

- But you did hesitate.

You would've sh*t me by now.

- Please, don't mistake

willingness for desire, Alex.

Now put the g*n on the ground.

- I think you lack both.

- Oh yeah?

Well why don't you

take another step?

Put the g*n down!

All right, get on your knees.

- So that's it, huh?

You're just gonna execute

me and be the great victor?

- Well, that's

entirely up to you.

Make one stupid move, and

I'm gonna put a b*llet

in that blue collar

skull of yours.

Get on your feet.

What?

Are you seriously surprised

that I outsmarted you?

- Yeah, actually I am.

You know, I always

thought you were just

some spoiled college brat.

- Well, this spoiled

college brat has your g*n,

so there is that.

- There is that.

So, now what?

Gonna play Pokemon, show

me how fast you can solve

a Rubik's Cube?

- You know, the other

clones always talk about

how stupid you are,

but I actually think

you're quite funny.

- So are you gonna let me go?

- Let you go?

You're a psychotic, Alex.

You k*lled two of

your crew members,

and I had to k*ll

you in self-defense.

Then I'm gonna write a book

and I'm gonna sell

the movie rights.

"m*ssacre in Space,"

how does that sound?

- Then why don't

you do it already?

You and the others have

been plotting it all along.

- Poor Alex.

You really are a psychotic.

Yeah.

You see, I have a few things

to add to your medical file.

You know, the hallucinations,

the sleepless nights,

so on, so forth.

I need your access code.

- And why would I give

you my access code

when it's the only

thing keeping me alive?

- Because I recorded

your confession.

You know that little

conversation you had

with Babcock when you

m*rder*d Gunderson?

So, it's up to you.

Spend your life in jail,

or I could k*ll you

right here, right now.

- You're so good at figuring

out the angles, weren't you?

- Might be vain of me to say,

but it does feel

right, doesn't it?

- Well, can I at least

have one last drink?

- We're two hours from Reno.

Knock yourself out.

Don't do anything stupid.

- So, the little voice.

That was you?

- The little voices?

No, it's a good idea though.

Who knows? Maybe you

really are going crazy.

It's better for the

book if you are.

By the way, I did read

your medical file.

What was it like being

born in a gutter snipe

of a mother like that?

- What was it like for you

looking outta that test tube

like frog larva?

Oh, would you look at that?

You see, I had to see if

you had a g*n of your own,

and the only way to do

that was to give you mine.

In chess, it's called

a pawn sacrifice,

although you being

a pseudo intellect,

I'm sure you know plenty

about compromise, don't you?

- How does that feel, huh?

Yeah, that's right.

Your throat's closing up,

your eyes rolling over.

Yeah, you can feel your

life slipping away.

What do you have now, Alex?

I took everything.

What do you have now?

- A Kn*fe!

You're all out of toys!

You're all out of toys!

You want me?

Come and get me.

- I can see it.

Two, four, six, eight,

who do we appreciate?

Nobody appreciates fractions.

Why would they?

One times two is two.

Two times two is four.

Numbers and letters lie.

It's dancing to music.

Liars using the lie.

Make them dance, always

dancing, switch them around.

Duck, duck, duck.

Goose, goose.

Colors are the answer.

Liars can't change colors.

Colors can't change.

Blue is always blue,

and blue is true.

Yellow is mellow

and green is mean.

And red is...

What is red?

Red is dead.

Red is dead.

Rimcor, this is Speculo. Over.

Rimcor, this is

Speculo. Do you copy?

- Speculo,

we copy you. Over.

- We have an emergency.

I repeat, we have an emergency.

Three crew members were working

aboard the escape module

when the motor and couplers

malfunctioned and released.

The life support was damaged.

I repeat, escape module

adrift, life support damaged.

Three crew members aboard.

Rimcor, do you copy?

- Standby, Speculo.

Speculo, we confirm we see

a module just released.

We're tracking it now, but

we are reading no vital

signs from the code.

We're running a full diagnostic.

Alex, no sound bytes.

That's one of many hazards

we face in this line of work.

Their families will be

notified when you arrive.

We will contact you in one hour.

Hanging up.

Rimcor, out.

- They know about you.

They're coming for you.

- Let 'em come.

- You've been a

naughty girl, Alex.

- Well, what are you?

Some alien life form?

- I'm Alex Waterman,

the original Alex.

- Whoever or whatever you

are, I am not a clone.

I have the papers to prove it.

- Everyone has papers.

Have a seat, I

need a blood sample

before we process you out.

- You, uh, showed up

from Reno, didn't you?

Well, how'd you get in

through the airlock?

- Poor little guinea pig.

I hate to spring it

on you like this,

but I've been here

the whole time.

We've been watching you

through hidden cameras,

studying our little mice.

- That was you whispering.

- Whispering?

Oh, that's a new one.

Then again, they did

say something like

that might happen.

- What might happen?

Who are they? I want

answers and I want them now.

- You only make demands

when you're in charge, Alex.

- It's Trillium, isn't it?

They're paying you.

- Under the table.

Don't tell HR.

- Trillium really does want to

sabotage the mining project.

- You'd think a

clone of me would be smarter.

It was the conduit,

the label, I found it.

You know, I told

them to pay attention

to details or that lab

rats would find something.

- Yeah. Well, we

found something.

We've been breathing

in moon gas for days.

It's pumped straight from

the containment module

into life support.

- Ladies and gentlemen,

we have a winner.

Thank you for playing

our newest game:

Will Your Head

Explode on Moon Gas?

Sit.

- You can k*ll me, but you'll

still be a cheap reproduction.

A bargain basement knockoff.

- Ooh, the mouse that roared.

Aren't we just a

feisty little rodent?

Site is secure.

We got a runner.

Not bad, lab rat.

This'll be more

entertaining than I thought.

- You set us up and gassed us.

- Oh, come on, Alex.

We had to test the

long-term effects somehow.

Why use real people when

you have disposables?

That's how they came

up with it, Speculo.

Now, buckle up because

here comes the big news.

- I can handle it.

- Oh. Well, we're

about to find out.

You're not in a transport, Alex.

In fact, you're

not even in space.

- You've been huffing

your own moon gas.

- Alex.

The seizures are getting

worse, aren't they?

The blood vessels in your

brain will split open.

You know, it'll feel

like someone drove

a spike through your head.

Come on, let's do our

lab work for the boys

and you'll be on your way home.

- You're lying!

You get your blood work

and I get thrown

out like the others.

- You know, there's

nowhere to run, Alex.

You know I can chase

you down and sh**t you.

- Not before I bust your

head in with this wrench.

- You found a wrench?

I somehow doubt that.

Alex.

Alex, are you listening?

The testing is over.

- You're insane.

I've been transporting

personnel from the earth to moon

for over a year now.

- And in that time, when

did you leave the ship?

- I couldn't leave,

there were quarantines,

loading mandates.

- All manufactured,

just like your memories

of mommy and daddy.

- Sorry.

Nice try.

I have memories that are far

too complicated to manufacture.

- You mean like your

garden boogeyman?

Oops.

Yeah, they threw that

one in for good measure.

A traumatic memory always

had to touch of realism,

don't you think?

- You're lying.

I had three clones

all working under me,

all sent from Rimcor.

- And what about the word

clone don't you understand?

They were genetically

engineered for this.

Their lives started when they

woke up in this dollhouse.

- Babcock wasn't just a

clone, he was my friend.

- And you k*lled him.

But hey, don't b*at yourself up.

Clones are like toilet paper.

We buy 'em in bulk.

What I wouldn't give to see the

look on your face right now.

But seriously, did it

really not occur to you

that if you were

really in outer space,

you'd all be floating

around like soap bubbles?

- This ship has an

artificial gravity system.

- Artificial gravity.

There's no such thing as

artificial gravity, you ret*rd!

Yeah, that's right.

Rimcor orchestrated all of it;

the problems, the failures,

the session clock.

It was all just stress

testing their new product.

See how long it took you

to cr*ck like a walnut.

- So that's why

you are here, huh?

Clean up the mess,

get on with profits.

- Well, you wouldn't

die soon enough.

And as you know, time is money.

What were we supposed to do?

I mean, if you think about it,

you really do bear

some of the blame here.

There is no personal growth

when we blame others.

We must shoulder our

responsibilities.

- Die, die!

You're gonna die!

- Stop it!

Stop it!

- Round and round we go,

back to where we started.

You couldn't have just

taken one for the team

and saved me the trouble?

- You're insane.

- Actually, in

this case, you are.

- You have been

brainwashed by a bunch

of corporate blood suckers.

Now, I am going

to those controls

and I'm gonna pilot this

ship back to Moon Base Reno.

- Only in that gas soaked

little mind of yours.

She's dead, we're good to go.

- Yes, we are.
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