The City on the Edge of Forever (22 page)

60 CLOSER SHOT—ON TRICORDER

as Kirk activates it. He speaks into the machine.

KIRK

Memory Banks.

VOICE OF TRICORDER

(filter)

Activated.

CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to include Kirk holding the device; almost a 2-SHOT:

KIRK

Integrate all data on Old Earth, year 1930 old style. Compute for variables resulting in major alterations of historical flow.

(beat)

When these variables have been postulated, integrate for the crisis points.

VOICE OF TRICORDER

(filter)

Integration procedure involves seventh level extrapolation and attendant internal function overloads and failure.

KIRK

Give estimated time for completion of procedure.

VOICE OF TRICORDER

(filter)

Procedure initiated.

(click)

Three hours, Earth time.

KIRK

Proceed.

He turns off the tricorder and hands it back to Spock who vanishes once again into the darkness, as Kirk speaks to his unseen presence.

KIRK (CONT’D.)

Think we can keep busy shoveling garbage for three hours?

SPOCK’S VOICE O.S.

(voice from dark)

That is not what troubles me, Captain.

(beat)

That much integrating, at that level, for that intensive a period, may well burn out the circuits. The tricorder is a self-contained unit, with no dependenceon the
Enterprise’s
power. And as the
Enterprise
no longer exists, that is fortunate.

KIRK

I hear an unspoken “but.”

SPOCK’S VOICE O.S.

But
…it is a unit of finite power. Setting it this excessive a task may burn out the circuits. Its value to us in this barbaric past is inestimable.

KIRK

As long as we get our answer, it won’t matter.

SPOCK’S VOICE O.S.

If
we get the answer.

Spock has returned out of the darkness and is at work once more. Kirk stares at him with amusement.

KIRK

You don’t make a half-bad Chinese laborer. They barely looked at you in that “movie theater” last night. Twenty-three skidoo, kiddo.

SPOCK

(not amused)

“Movie theater.” You have an amazing facility for picking up the local language patterns, Captain—“twenty-three skidoo” indeed—but we do not seem much closer to locating that monster, Beckwith.

KIRK

Time is relative. He hasn’t even come through yet. We have a lot of time…

SPOCK.

A lot…and none at all.

SPOCK CLOSE as the preceding line is spoken. He has no humor about the situation. And there is a tone of caution that cannot be ignored.

DISSOLVE TO:

61 INT. BASEMENT—ANOTHER ANGLE

CLOSE ON TRICORDER as Spock holds it in his hands. CAMERA PULLS BACK to MED. 2-SHOT as they talk to machine.

VOICE OF TRICORDER

(filter)

Integration completed.

SPOCK

List all focal points.

VOICE OF TRICORDER

(filter)

Preliminary listing involves six hundred and sixteen thousand five hundred and ninety focal points.

SPOCK

Eliminate all but those within a ten-kilometer radius of our present coordinates.

VOICE OF TRICORDER

(filter)

Unable to comply.

KIRK

Explain.

VOICE OF TRICORDER

(filter)

Circuits damaged in seventh level intensity. Only partial data available. You were warned.

KIRK

(resignedly)

Proceed.

There is tortured clicking and whirring from the machine. Then, amidst static, it speaks.

VOICE OF TRICORDER

(filter)

Blue. The burning sun. The key.

It clicks and hums and then quits entirely. Spock hands the dead unit to Kirk. Kirk hefts it with frustration.

KIRK

That takes care of
that
. Wasn’t the blue, the sun, wasn’t it what the Guardian said, something like that? Did you make any sense out of it?

SPOCK

A description, perhaps. It was no help
before
we came through the Vortex, and it is not much help now.

Kirk holds out the tricorder.

KIRK

Can you repair it?

SPOCK

Dubious, Captain. The transistor has not been invented yet; nor the printed circuit; nor the mnemonic(pronounced nee-mon-ic) memory cube; nor—

KIRK

You made your point, Mr. Spock.

SPOCK

But, as always, sir, I can try.

Kirk chuckles and hands it to Spock.

KIRK

I’m going out to get a job today.

SPOCK

Perhaps I should do the same.

KIRK

Forget it. I need you working on that tricorder, so we can get a fix on how long it’ll be before Beckwith arrives.

(beat)

Besides, it’s too risky.

The Janitor emerges from the entrance to the basement.

JANITOR

What’s too risky…?

KIRK

Uh, nothing…his going out for a job…

JANITOR

Listen, these days,
everybody’s
on the dodge. Least thing’ll get a man pinched. Saw some Bo just last week got thrown in the pokey for tryin’ to steal bread an’ macaroni for his kids.

(beat)

What’d the Chinee do?

KIRK

Some, uh, friends of his are in trouble.

As he says this we

62 INSERT SHOT—TRANSPORTER ROOM ON ENTERPRISE

NOTE:
this is intended as a shock-value shot, only a few frames in duration, almost subliminal in nature. It should be there, hold a scant beat, and be gone. Longer will be confusing. It is intended to link the Old Earth action with the imperativeness, the sense of
moment
, of action in the future. A jab in the eye, not a punch in the mouth.

The beleaguered
Enterprise
patrol as one of the crewmen wrenches open the door and Yeoman Rand fires a phaser through the instant-open hatch, at the Renegades, and the hatch—with its tell-tale burned spots—is thrust closed immediately by hand. The action takes place in only three or four beats and we

CUT BACK TO:

63 SAME AS 61 PRECISELY

as though we haven’t lost a beat in the conversation, as though we have seen through the eyes of thought of Kirk or Spock, to the urgency of what they must do.

KIRK

Uh…he can work around here…he needn’t go
out
to work…

But the Janitor is hearing the objection.

JANITOR

Leave it t’me. I got a job down the street he can fill…

CUT TO:

64 INT. RESTAURANT KITCHEN—ANGLE ON SPOCK

FRAME OBSCURED by a large cloud of steam. As CAMERA PULLS BACK we see Mr. Spock, still wearing the stocking-cap pulled down over his ears, in an old-style button-down undershirt with the sleeves rolled up, industriously working over a zinc double-sink filled with filthy dishes. Horsehair scrub brush, cake of brown lye soap. As he works, we HEAR the VOICE of the COOK O.S.

COOK’S VOICE O.S.

Okay, Chinee No-Talk, time to quit!

Mr. Spock straightens up, with difficulty. His face is drenched with sweat, the front of his wool undershirt stained with a thousand kinds of refuse. He turns and CAMERA PANS WITH him as the Cook comes INTO FRAME.

COOK

Night shift comin’ in, you can knock off.

Mr. Spock starts to leave, slowly, painfully, the way it feels after a day of boring, nauseating drudgery. He takes his seedy jacket from a peg near the sinks, and starts away as the Cook stops him.

COOK (CONT’D.)

Hey, Yellow Peril! Payday today. You been onna job a week, doncha even know when you collect?

Spock stops. There is an expression of infinite weariness there, and resignation. The Cook takes some money from his pocket.

COOK (CONT’D.)

Lessee now…fifteen cents an hour for ten hours a day…that’s, uh, nine dollars fifty for the week…

He starts to count it out. He hands it over to Spock and starts to put the rest of the money back in his pocket. Spock’s hand snakes out quickly, and he grabs the Cook’s wrist in a grip that is obviously painful. The Cook’s face screws up in anguish and he bends a little to the angle of Spock’s pressure. Then, in a very calm voice, Spock addresses him.

SPOCK

(matter-of-factly)

Ten
dollars and fifty cents for the week. Seventy hours at fifteen cents an hour.

COOK

(in pain)

Hey! Leggo, you’re gonna bust it.

SPOCK

(calmly)

Ten
dollars and fifty cents…

COOK

(real anguish)

Okay, okay,
ten, ten
, anything you say…yeah, I figgered it wrong…

Spock releases him. The Cook rubs the wrist furiously.

COOK (CONT’D.)

Jeez, you don’t haveta ruin a stiff jus’ cuz he misfigured somethin’, do ya? Here’s your lousy buck…

He hands Spock the extra dollar. Spock moves toward door.

COOK (CONT’D.)

(shouts after)

You sure learned to figger money pretty quick…an’ you dint speak so good last week like that…you was just
playin
’ dumb…

But Spock has slammed the door to the alley exit as we HOLD on the Cook and he says his last line.

DISSOLVE TO:

65 EXT. NEW YORK STREET—EVENING (DAY FOR NIGHT)

as Spock moves down the block out of the alley. CAMERA WITH HIM as he PASSES THRU FRAME. It is a typically-dressed 1930 scene, with enough people on the street to give an impression of a populated evening. Cars in the street, vendors with pushcarts, street lamps illuminating a stickball game. And on the corner, as Spock nears it, we see a crowd gathered. Not a large crowd, but enough bodies to indicate a sizeable small gathering. There is a woman on a tiny dais, there on the corner, and around her are several Salvation Army types (though
not
in Army uniforms) with bass drum, cornet, triangle and clarinet. She is speaking to the crowd as Spock draws abreast of them. We HEAR HER VOICE as he comes toward the group. The VOICE of SISTER EDITH KEELER, the voice of truth.