CROSSFADE TO
A shot of Creek Mountain silhouetted against a red sunset.
SUPERIMPOSE: “FOURTEEN MONTHS LATER”
INT. CREEK MOUNTAIN/LEVEL 18/COVERSTONE ROOM – SUNSET
In the long months that have passed since Daniel, Meyers, and Barbara joined Project Giza, the entire layout of the coverstone room has been transformed. A portable stereo; a coffee machine; a small refrigerator; a bookcase stocked with volumes on Egyptian hieroglyphs and various forms of Near East writing systems; and a scaffold erected under the coverstone have all been brought in; the room has been wallpapered with charcoal rubbings and photo enlargements of the coverstone’s engravings; and the floor – along with various available spaces – have become carpeted with the discarded packaging of countless brands of junk food. Daniel and Meyers stand at a black board inscribed with a copy of the coverstone’s inner line of writing, arguing fiercely over how it should be translated, while Barbara tries – with lacklustre success – to ignore them and concentrate on the computer program she is running. The camaraderie the three scholars initially established is obviously long gone.
DANIEL: (cont’d; angry) This is all wrong!
Daniel rubs away a word Meyers has written under a set of hieroglyphs – “TIME” – and replaces it with “YEARS”.
MEYERS: (outraged) I beg your pardon!
DANIEL: You used Budge, didn’t you? (aside) Why do they keep reprinting his books?
MEYERS: Budge is a perfectly valid resource! Just because you have an irrational fear and hatred for all forms of conventional methodology ….
DANIEL: (facepalms) Oh, not this again. (beat) I do not have “an irrational fear and hatred for all forms of conventional methodology”.
MEYERS: (cont’d) Oh yes, you do! You’re a hair’s breadth away from being another Graham Hancock or Zecharia Sitchin!
DANIEL: (slaps the side of his own head) Oh, great comparison, Meyers, great! Why not go all out and brand me the Second Coming of Erich von Däniken while you’re at it!?
Meyers turns back to the blackboard, pointing disdainfully at a section Daniel has translated.
MEYERS: The word “qebeh” is followed by an adverbial “sedjemen-ef” with a “cleft” subject.
DANIEL: So?!
MEYERS: (incredulous) “In his sarcophagus”? (shakes his head) I don’t think so. I think “sealed and buried” is a little more accurate.
Meyers rubs out Daniel’s translation, replacing it with his own. Daniel stares at the older man as if he has just killed his beloved pet dog.
MEYERS: (triumphant) There! (beat) Beginning here, it reads: “THOUSANDS OF YEARS INTO THE SKY IS ATUM, CREATOR GOD. SEALED AND BURIED FOR ALL TIME, HIS …” (falters) … door to heaven?
Daniel sighs dramatically, looking up to the ceiling as if in search for a sign of deliverance from God Himself.
MEYERS: (strokes his temple) No, that doesn’t feel right to me. Maybe –
DANIEL: (losing control of his temper) Give me that chalk, you --!
The two men begin grappling for control of the stick of chalk. Barbara – reaching the ends of her endurance – bolts upright from her station with a cry of frustration.
BARBARA: That’s it! I’ve been listenin’ to your goddamned bickerin’ since the cock crowed! You wanna continue actin’ like immature assholes?! Fine! You can compare dick sizes without me to referee. I’m goin’ to bed.
With that final word, the tall black-haired woman storms out, leaving the two men by themselves. After a moment they pull away from one another. Though the worst of their rage is spent, their eyes still burn with mutual resentment.
MEYERS: (holds the stick of chalk out before Daniel’s eyes) You want the chalk, Little Orphan Danny? (hurls the chalk with tremendous force at the blackboard, shattering it) There you have it!
With that final word, Meyers also storms off. He pushes through the twin doors the very moment Kawalsky enters balancing three trays of food on his arms, nearly knocking both the lieutenant colonel and his load over.
KAWALSKY: (calling after Meyers) Meyers! Hey, Meyers, dinner! Turn on back, man!
Meyers refuses to heed the military man’s call. Shrugging as best as he can under the circumstances, Kawalsky makes his way into the interior of the room, setting two of the trays down on the edge of a table.
KAWALSKY: (holds the tray out to Daniel) Dinner, Jackson.
DANIEL: (moody) Good morning, Colonel.
Daniel ignores the proffered food, choosing instead to make his way over to the scaffold.
KAWALSKY: It’s almost 8:00 PM. (looks about at the trash scattered throughout the room, frowning) Why don’t you guys clean this place up a little?
DANIEL: (climbing up the scaffold) That information is classified.
KAWALSKY: (rolls his eyes) Give it a rest, Professor. (sets the dinner tray down on an overturned plastic crate) I’m going into town. Is there anything you need?
DANIEL: (looks down at Kawalsky from atop the scaffold) Yeah. You could pick me up a point of reference. And maybe some context. (beat) No, seriously, Kawalsky, just give me ten minutes alone with the goddamn janitor. I’m sure he knows more about what was buried under this coverstone than I do.
KAWALSKY: (sighs) That might be true, but the janitorial staff has clearance.
DANIEL: Look, Colonel, you people want me to solve this puzzle for you. You want me to decipher this stone that no one else has been able to read. But you won’t give me enough information to do my job.
Kawalsky notices an untouched lunch tray sitting on the floor. Walking over to it, be bends down and picks up a cold sloppy joe, giving it a sniff.
KAWALSKY: Have you people got a problem with the food around here?
DANIEL: (cont’d) How about this. What if someone anonymously slipped an unauthorized copy of a report under my door? They’d never know who it was. They’d never even know I got it! I’d figure this thing out and we could all go home happy.
KAWALSKY: Jackson, do me a big favour and get off my back. You know I’m under the strictest orders.
DANIEL: So disobey orders!
KAWALSKY: (shakes his head) It must be hard to always be the smartest guy in the room.
Swiping the bag of french fries from Daniel’s tray, Kawalsky leaves. Exhausted, Daniel lies down on his back atop the scaffold, staring up at the ceiling above.
FADE TO
The coverstone room, several hours later. Daniel is still there but has left the scaffold for a chair on the ground. A camcorder, set up on a tripod before him, is currently recording his latest log entry.
DANIEL: (cont’d) … no matches whatsoever. I’ve yet again exhausted all reference material in comparing the symbols in the cartouche against all known writing samples from the period Pre- and Post-. Still no similarities. (beat) I’m never gonna get paid.
Reaching forward, Daniel shuts the camera off. Stretching, he yawns, then gets up and lethargically staggers over to the coffee machine. As he picks the pot up, though, he finds it all but empty.
INT. CREEK MOUNTAIN/LEVEL 18/CORRIDOR #2 – DAWN
Daniel exits the coverstone room, the empty coffee pot dangling at his side. Making his way down the empty corridor, he passes the night guard – Airman 1ST Class Higgens – who is stationed at his desk post.
A1C HIGGENS: What’s up, Doc?
DANIEL: How’s it hangin’, Higgens?
Daniel stops at a water fountain. Placing the rim of the pot under the spout, he begins filling it with water. Waiting for the pot to fill, Daniel glances back at Higgens. The guard is reading a paperback novel – Stargate by Pauline Gedge. His brow furrowing, Daniel stops filling the coffee pot and places it down on the floor by his feet. Sauntering back over to Higgens, he leans in over him and, wordlessly, plucks the book from the guard’s hand. He scrutinizes the title closely.
DANIEL: Good book?
A1C HIGGENS: (wary) Yeah ….
Without another word, Daniel hands the book back to Higgens and hurries back toward the coverstone room.
INT. CREEK MOUNTAIN/LEVEL 18/COVERSTONE ROOM – DAWN
Daniel strides over to the blackboard he and Meyers had been arguing over earlier. Picking up a piece of chalk, he rubs his tired face, regarding the “DOOR TO HEAVEN” translation Meyers himself had felt inadequate. With only a second’s hesitation he erases the line, replacing it with one of his own.
Completely and accurately translated, the inscription now reads: “THOUSANDS OF YEARS INTO THE SKY IS ATUM, CREATOR GOD. SEALED AND BURIED FOR ALL TIME, HIS STARGATE”.