As Welles begins to stammer, her eyes betray a terrible consternation.  She
rises from her chair, lurches forward, catching herself on her hands.  The
C-C-C-C-C phases into a chattering palsy as a thick strand of blood-streaked
drool descends toward the table.  Fox, seated to her left, has instinctively
shoved his own chair back, ready to run.  Everyone else is frozen with shock.

As the chittering tooth-burr becomes a shrill SHRIEK of inhuman rage, the
transformation takes place.  Segmented biomechanoid tendons squirm beneath the
skin of her arms.  Her hands claw at one another, tearing redundant flesh from
alien talons.  Then the shriek dies.  She straightens up.

And, rips her face apart in a single movement, the glistening claws coming
away with skin, eyes, muscle, teeth, and splinters of bone... SOUND of ripping
cloth.  The New Beast sheds its human skin in a single sinuous, bloody ripple,
molting on fast forward.

An instant of utter silence as the featureless mask moves.  From side to side.
Scanning.

Trent vomits explosively.  The Marine guard snatches his pistol from its
holster and FIRES wildly across the table.  Blind screaming chaos.

OVERHEAD SHOT

as the directorate plunges, like a single panicked organism, to the far side
of the bubble.  The thing is on Fox before he can get up from his chair.

CLOSE

On his scream as the sucking, fanged tongue plunges through the orbit of his
eye.

ANGLE

A Marine with a flamethrower bursts through the door, torching Fox and the New
Beast, setting fire to the bubble's acoustic foam baffles.

INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE TULLY'S SLEEPING CUBICLE

Spence is coming down the corridor, carrying a clear plastic bag of styrofoam
food containers.  Nobody else in sight.  She look tired, but not particularly
worried.  She reaches the door to his cubicle.  Thumps on it with the heal of
her hand.

SPENCE
Tully!  Hey!  Open up.. Got you some food...

No reply.  She thumps again, then punches the combination (the lock look like
a telephone key-pad).  Door opens.  Dark inside.

SPENCE
(continuing)
Tully?  You sleeping?

She climbs in.  Dark.  Very.  A red LED glows on the phone console.  She
crawls through the detritus of Tully's housekeeping and fumbles with the
lights.  Can't find the switch.

SPENCE
Tully?

Lights CLICK on.  Nobody there.  Nothing.  Looks even messier then she last
saw it.  She sighs, puts the bag of food on a ledge, scoops up a mound of
dirty cloths off the pillow in an automatic cleaning-up gesture.  And sees
Tully's lab badge.  Picks it up.

CLOSE ON THE BADGE

The contamination indicator strip is red.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. DETENTION CELL

Hicks sitting on the narrow bunk.

Door opens.  One of the Marines who arrested his in the lab; he wears combat
armor now.

HICKS
What's your problem, bud?  Got a war on?

The Marine steps back, admitting a haggard Rosetti.

ROSETTI
Get up, Hicks.  We need you in the Ops Room.

HICKS
We didn't kill it.

ROSETTI
No. It killed Fox and Welles...

INT. TUNNEL, CONSTRUCTION ZONE

Small vehicle WHINES TOWARD US through puddles of condensation:  a skeletal
electric motor-jeep with heavy roll bars, scratched and paint-scarred.  Walker
driving.  Hick behind him in partial combat armor and communication rig,
cradling a pulse-rifle.

Walker is pushing it, driving fast; the jeep bounces and sways, skitters
around a corner.  Into the gloom of the big construction chamber.  Halts.

HICKS
(into mouthpiece)
Gimme a read.

JACKSON (V.O.)
(from headset)
You're close.  Hang a left.

HICKS
Is he moving?

JACKSON
No...

Walker swing the jeep around and they roll toward a narrow gap between massive
stacks of geodesic struts.

INT. OPS ROOM

Jackson studies a simulator screen; a moving cursor, the Jeep, navigates a 3D
grid-representation of the construction zone.

JACKSON
No left again.

The cursor turns.  Nears a blinking red dot.

Spence, drawn and anxious, looks over Jackson's shoulder.  Bishop and Rosetti
are beside her.

SPENCE
You're sure it's him?

JACKSON
It's his locator frequency, isn't it?  No two
alike.  Surgically implanted.  Just like yours...

SPENCE
(gnaws at her lip)
He's not moving...

ROSETTI
Why would he go down there?

BISHOP
The badge.  He knew that he's been infected...

SPENCE
Scared.  He's scared.
(shudders)
Tully...

INT. CONSTRUCTION CHAMBER

Dark.  The Jeep creeps along between stacks of prefab hull units, emerges
into a open space, junctions of several corridors.  The deck is an inch deep
in water.

JACKSON (V.O.)
He's there!  You're right on top of him!

Walker stops the jeep.  Hicks stands up, plays the beam of a flashlight around
the area.  Presses the mute button on his headset.

HICKS
(bellows)
Tully!  Tully!  Yo!

ECHO.  DRIP of water.

Hicks clips the flashlight beneath the barrel of his gun and jumps down.
Reflections ripple as he moves forward.  Swings the beam along the surface --
something there... The logo-patches down a sleeve of Tully's ruptured,
blood-soaked leather jacket.  Drifting shred of human tissue...

JACKSON (V.O.)
Can you see him?

HICKS
Yeah.

And the thing that was Tully launches itself from the top of one of the stacks
of construction material.  Lands on top of the jeep, going for Walker, through
the roll bars.

CLOSEUP ON JAWS

CLOSEUP

as the thing's tail lashes past Walker's face, taking a nick out of a steel
bar.

on the controls, a pair of levers:  he yanks one back, shoves the other
forward, thumbs both drive buttons simultaneously.

ANGLE