Second Draft- script								
Eric Jones

The Games we Play

(all action takes place inside the SC1 space station)

2085.  Entrance docks

	The room is deserted, isolated.  Thin rivulets of rust line the floors, walls
	and ceiling.  A thin layer of dust covers the floor, disturbed only by a breeze
	which blows through the hall.  On one wall is a yellow, faded poster, which
	reads: `explore the stars, with Stellar Corp!'.  The lights above flicker
	randomly, which creates a strobe-light effect on the shadows that criss-cross
	against the drab grey walls.  A single exit from the room leads out into a
	hallway.  The exit is large- a giant arch with lights that line its edge, now
	in dissuse.  A scrap of paper wafts by.


2085.  
Hallway

	The scrap of paper floats down the hallway.  It does loops in the air as it
	drifts along.  It occasionally buffets up on drafts of air.

2085.  T-junction

	The paper reaches a t-junction in the hall.  The paper comes in from the stem
	of the junction.  It circles around, being pushed by winds that come from all
	three halls.  It twists and turns, and rises to the ceiling. The paper flies
	around the ceiling, and finds a hole in the ceiling, and passes through it.

2085.  Tunnel

	The paper flies up through the small hole, formerly a passageway for moving
	objects from one level of the station to another.  It does not look like it was
	originally planned to be here, the edges look like they were cut off with some
	kind of blowtorch.

2085.  End of tunnel

	The paper rises up through the hole, and wafts up in the air for a few moments,
	before floating gently down to the ground.

2085.  Gambling Hall

	The room stretches out for a great distance, almost the size of a football
	field.  The room is in a state of decay.  Tall stone pillars line the walls of
	the room, their surfaces chipped and cracked.  Piles of wood litter the room,
	in ordered, straight lines.  The walls are devoid of any posters or wall
	hangings, but the drab red walls are more vibrant in some square areas, the
	hint of what used to be.

	The flickering lights in the room are situated above sets of slowly rotating
	fans, which causes the strobe-light effect to be increased.  Cards are being
	shuffled somewhere.

	The top of a table, rotting with age, barely able to stand up on it's legs,
	which sway jaggedly.  A wrinkled hand places a card face up on the table - the
	queen of spades.  The hand retracts, and cards are shuffled again.  The hand
	appears once more, and the ace of hearts is placed on the table.  A man
	grunts.

	REMLAS (85), is a withered man with wispy white hair, and piercing silver eyes.
	He wears a one-piece brown robe, which is far too large for his thin, gaunt
	features.  He sits in a chair that is set up beside the table.  He blows air
	into his hollow cheeks, appearing to be in thought.  He affords a thin, weak
	smile.

			Remlas
			(distantly)
		That was me once.

	Remlas peers at the Ace of Hearts, and squints his eyes.  He tilts his head,
	looking up.  He seems to try to remember something.

2036.  Entrance Docks

	Multi-hued lights of green and blue shine down from the ceiling, reflecting off
	of the bright, shiny garbs of people just getting off of the latest space ship. 
	They mill into the docks, some old, some young, some in fancy, extravagant
	clothing, and others in near-rags.

	A rotating logo, depicting a 3-d space shuttle, and the revolving words,
	`Stellar Corp.' hangs in the middle of the room, it's outlining matching the
	colors of the lights above.  Blinking neon signs point towards the far end of
	the room, where a set of large, open gates stand.

			Announcer
		Greetings, and welcome to the *only* gateway to the
		stars, SC1!  The next star-hopper will be leaving in
		a week, so we hope you enjoy your stay here, and wish
		you well on your journey to the beyond!

	The crowds ignore the announcer, moving as one giant mob towards the gateway. 
	A young man holding a baby girl cries with joy, being pushed along with the
	rest of the people.  People in the mob jostle about, but are a calm, peaceful
	group, so far.  They reach the gates.  Men in blue and green uniforms try to
	slow down the tide of people.  They call out about passports.  They attempt to
	regulate the crowd, but give up as the people force their way past.

			Announcer
		And remember, you'll be the first to go out into the
		deep beyond, so you don't want to be caugh
		unprepared!  Don't forget to check out all the
		convenient Stellar Corp. Stores aboard this station!

2036.  Hallway, niche.

	YOUNG REMLAS (36), with the same piercing eyes, and thick, unruly black hair,
	wearing a loose, multi-colored robe, watches the people from a small portal
	leading off from the main hallway.  The people run by, unaware of him, too
	happy at their surroundings to notice, or care.  The officers have managed to
	gain control at the gate.  They look over papers, and then let the people past.  
	Remlas watches on, grinning with hungry intent.  He turns, and walks into the 
	portal, a door closing behind him.

2036.  Service Hallway, main floor.

	Remlas walks down the hallway with a purposeful stride.  He walks past more
	officers, who all move quickly to get out of his way, some make bowing gestures
	as well.  Remlas ignores all this, and finds a set of stairs.  He quickly
	marches up them.

2036.  Service Hallway, floor `2'.

	Remlas reaches the top of the stairs, and takes a quick turn to the right, a
	few paces down this hall, and he turns to walk through an open hatchway.

2036.  Gambling Hall, employee entrance.

	Remlas looks out over the gambling hall, and ambles down a set of stairs. The
	hall is in pristine condition.  The pillars are solid, and have designs inlaid
	in gold spiralling up them.  The walls are a flamboyant shade of red, even
	bolder with the tinted lights shining from above.  The fans hanging below the
	lights are rotating at a fast rate, keeping the hall cool despite the mass of
	people in it.
	
	The place is jam-packed with people, placing their bets down on tables,
	praying, and frantically digging through their pockets for more change.  Coins
	pass hands both ways across the table, people reacting with joyous leaping, or
	unbelieving stares, and wailing.
	
	Remlas looks over all this, and smiles.
	
			Remlas
			(to himself)
		Now this is progress.
		

2036.  Gambling Hall.

	Remlas saunters across the hall, to an empty table, which has his name emblazed
	on it.  People mill about the table.   They stare at Remlas, and look around at
	the surrounding tables.  He sits down at the table, flicking a switch, which
	causes a light to turn on.  Some of the crowd of people rushes forward, and
	take seats.  Remlas pulls out a deck of cards from a well-worn box, and begins
	to shuffle them.  He deals three cards to everyone at the table.  

	A game ensues.  People move their chips over onto different numbers on a board 
	which lies on the table.  Another round of cards is dealt to those that want
	it.
	
	Cards go back and forth along the table.  Chips are moved from one side of the
	table to the other, most of the time in Remlas' favour.  More cards are dealt,
	more chips exchange hands.
	
	Remlas places a card face up, a two, beside his cards.  He flips his remaining
	cards over: an eight, a five, and a six.
	
			Remlas
			(neutrally)
		Dealer shows twenty-one.  Game goes to the dealer.
		
	Remlas pulls over all the remaining chips, and stores them in a pouch.  Some
	people in the game throw their cards down in disgust, and storm off.  Others
	just shrug, and find another table.  Remlas reaches forward, and flicks the
	switch beside him down, shutting off the lights at the table.  

	One man, MARK (24), a scraggly, pale-thin man wearing some black, shiny
	clothing that is just begging to tatter, stays behind.  His hands are shaking,
	and he stares pleadingly at Remlas.

			Mark
	C'mon man, just one more game...  It's the only one I
know..

	Mark shuffles over to Remlas' side of the table, a half-smile on his face. 
	Remlas stands up quickly, and pushes Mark aside.  He walks away.

	Mark rushes after him, and tugs on the sleeves of Remlas' robes, trying to pull
	him back.  His smile has dissapeared, and he has a look of abject fear on his
	face.

			Mark
	I need to play man!  I'll never get off here with
what I have!!

	Remlas turns, and gives Mark a look of disdain.

			Remlas
		That is not my concern.

	Remlas whips back around, pulling himself free of Mark's grip.  Remlas fades
	into the crowd, while two large, burly men approach Mark.  Remlas is grinning. 
	A dealer at a table nearby lays down a card.	

2085.  Gambling Hall

	Remlas lays down a card on the table absently, and shakes himself out of his
	reverie.

			Remlas
		Pathetic fools.

	Remlas continues to deal cards to himself.  The king of diamons, nine of
	spades, and the joker all get placed down beside each other, beside the other
	two cards.  He peers at the joker curiously.  He twists his head from side to
	side to look at it from different angles.  He looks at his deck, and shuffles
	through it, looking at each card.  He picks up the joker, flips it around his
	fingers.  He shrugs and tosses it behind him.  He raises his head, and snorts.

			Remlas
		The real jokers were those customers.

	Remlas begins to re-shuffle the cards, but fidgets, and the cards spill onto
	the floor.  Remlas sighs, and slowly picks up all the cards.  Methodically, he
	organizes them into a pile on the table, and then leans back in his chair.  He
	laughs hoarsely, and pats his table.

			Remlas
	Ah, my table, my throne!  You've served me well over
these years..

	The table trembles under the pressure of his hands.  It barely manages to stay
	up.

			Remlas
	Oh, the things you've seen, if you caught all those
tricks I pulled, that is!

	Remlas breaks into another fit of laughter.  The table still shakes, and the
	pile of cards spills down, spreading across the table.

2036.  Gambling hall

	From the view of the table, Remlas gambles.  He pulls cards out of his sleeves
	so quickly peoplpe don't notice, double-deals himself and gets away with it,
	and steals cards from the deck.  All the while, he smiles, and doesn't show a
	hint of what he's doing.

2085.  Gambling Hall

	Remlas' teeth, his wrinkled face, his shrivelled body.  His eyes survey the
	room, a broad grin on his face.

			Remlas
		This was the start of it all..  The wealth I
		attained, it made me king!

	Remlas breaks into a coughing fit, but manages to get control of it.  He grins
	again.

			Voice
		And you still are.

	Remlas starts, and looks about quickly.  He squints his eyes tightly, and peers
	into the darkness.  A MAN (45), with short brown hair, with a slightly tubby
	build, and wearing a cheap black suit, walks out of the shadows.  He
	acknowledges Remlas with a short, curt nod, and lights a cigar.

			Man
	You were king, and you are still.  King of your
little hill..  

	The man gestures around the room.

			Man
	Grand isn't it?  Holding dominion over this empty
shell?

	Remlas wheels over, and falls to the floor.  He shuffles back on his hands, and
	stares up.  

			Remlas
		Who are you?  How did you get here?

	The man strides forward, around the table.  The man leans down, and reaches
	forward with a hand, a thin smile on his face.

			Man
		I'm a businessman, here on business.

	Remlas blinks.  He doesn't accept the man's help, and struggles up to his feet. 
	He uses one of the pillars for support.  He turns around.  The man waits
	patiently.  He inhales on his cigar, and lets out a sigh.  He looks around, and
	absently runs a finger over Remlas' table.

			Man
		Simply marvellous, what you've done 
		to the place.  I adore the decor.

	Remlas' fear is gone.  He glares at the man, a scowl on his face.

			Remlas
		If you're here on business, state it.

	The man thumbs through Remlas' cards, which are scattered around the table.
	He looks up.

			Man
		So rude, Remlas.  And I just got here.
		Aren't you going to offer me some 
		entertainment first?  A game of cards,
		perhaps?

	The man smiles.  Remlas looks at him disdainfully.

			Remlas
		Unless your business is gambling, no.  I
		have no time for young fools who wish to
		lose their money.

	The man smiles a little wider.

			Man
		But you did.

	Remlas raises a questioning eyebrow.  He gives the man a careful stare.

Gambling Hall.  2036.

	The face of Mark as he is dragged away by guards.  A young woman cries, and
	holds onto her wailing child tightly.  A child peeks around his back, pulling 
	on his robes.  The child shows him a few golden coins.

Gambling Hall.  2085.

	Remlas watches the man cautiously.  His mouth twitches.

			Remlas
		Perhaps I did, but that's long past.

	The man picks up the deck of cards, stacks it, and shuffles it deftly.  The
	cards fly across his hands, between his fingers, and get re-stacked, neatly,
	on the table.

			Man
		Come now, surely you wouldn't actually prefer 
		playing with yourself?  You were never one for 
		that.

	Remlas gasps, a hand to his mouth.  His eyes close to slits as he stares at
	the man.

			Remlas
		And how is it that you know so much about me?

	The man shrugs, and pulls a barely-standing chair up to Remlas' table.
	He tests the chair by pushing down on it.  It doesn't break, so he flops
	himself down.  He finishes his cigar, and grinds it under his feet.

			Man
		You think you could just live here, and not be
		known?  Remlas, the gambling king, who worked
		his way to ownership of Earth's first and last
		space station?

	Remlas closes his eyes, and shakes his head.  He opens his eyes, and stares
	at the man intently.  The man gets up, walks around.  He raps his hand against
	the wall of the station.

			Man
		Oh yeah, thoroughly useless to have beasts like
		this these days.  Oh, but don't worry, we still 
		have gambling halls like this.

	The man turns around.  He raises his arms above his head, and shrugs.

			Man
		But I'm sure you don't want to hear of it.  No
		interest to a busy guy like you.

	The man rotates on one foot to face the door.  He makes a few dramatic steps,
	then glances over his shoulder.  Remlas sits at the table.

			Man
		Now that's more like it.

	The man turns back around, and seats himself down at the table.  Remlas makes
	no comment, and deals out some cards.

Gambling Hall.  2085.

	Remlas and the man sit at the table.  They play a game of cards.  Coins are
	stacked on both sides of the table, the larger pile belonging to the man.
	Remlas clings to his cards.  The man is slouched in his chair, another 
	cigar jammed in his mouth.  He smiles, and lays down his cards.

			Man
		A flush, my friend.  Just like your face.

	Remlas sneers, and puts down his own cards.  He has a three of a kind.  The man
	pulls more coins over to his pile.  He whistles some toneless song.  Remlas
	throws his hands up, and moves to get up.

			Remlas
		It's been embarrassing, but I'm afraid our
		meeting has come to an end.

	The man's shoulders sag a bit, and he pouts.  He makes a motion with his hands,
	beckons Remlas back.

			Man
		Come on!  Just one more game?  You can deal...

	Remlas looks down at the cards, his fingers twitch slightly.  He considers
	for a few moments, then sits down.  He reaches for the cards, and begins to
	shuffle them.  The man looks on with interest.

			Man
		Hundreds of years, and we're still playing
		the same games.  Amazing don't you think,
		with all the advancements we've made 
		everywhere else?

	Remlas grunts.

			Remlas
		I never studied history.

	The man nods sagely, barely able to hold a smile from his face.

			Man
			(very matter of fact)
		Though I suppose it's not completely true.  
		Methods got better, technology sure helped
		that.  Invisible cards, holograms, the works.
		A lot happened after we spread ourselves to
		the stars.

	Remlas ignores him, and deals out the cards.

			Remlas
		Seven card poker, two draws of two, no wild.

	Remlas lays down more cards, alternating between the man and himself.
	The man picks up his cards, and studies them.

			Man
			(conversationally)
		Yep, a lot of things happened around that 
		time.  People were so happy to finally get
		off Earth, away from all the filth.  But
		every other place turned out the same.

	Remlas raises and eyebrow, and pushes forward a single coin.  The man 
	follows suit.  Remlas looks between his cards and the man.  He pushes
	more coins into the middle of the table.

			Remlas
		I raise by ten.

	The man tosses ten coins onto the middle of the table.  He picks up five
	more, adding them to the pile.  Remlas follows suit.

			Man
		I call.

Entrance Docks.  2085.

	The man and Remlas stand face-to-face, a window in the wall showing a 
	small vessel docked in a hanging bay.  Remlas is aglow, while the man
	looks dissapointed.

			Remlas
		It was a good game, but these old bones won
		once more!  It was a pleasure; come back with
		your money any time.

	The man frowns, and waves his hand.

			Man
		It's your game sier, and you won it.  I'm 
		afraid I won't be back; I have business to 
		take care of, elsewhere...

	Remlas is about to reply, but the man cuts him short, turning around
	and walking through a hatchway.  Remlas waves, performing a small, 
	feeble skip as the door closes.

			Remlas
		Other business indeed.  I wonder what he 
		really does.

	Remlas pulls out a card from his sleeves, hides it again, and pulls
	out another one.  The motion is quick, barely seen.  He holds up the
	card truimphantly.

			Remlas
		Improved technologies?  Obviously not
		improved enough!

	Remlas grins ear to ear, and kisses the card.  He holds up a small bag, 
	which jingles as he shakes it.  He stuffs it into a pocket, and heads
	through the gateway, back into the station.

Int.  Man's spaceship.  2085.

	The interior of the ship is a technological cornucopia.  Lights and
	projection screens are all over the walls, save for a large view
	screen to the front of the ship.  The man is slumped in a cushioned chair
	in front of the view screen, one hand on his forehead.  He shakes his
	head back and forth.  He pushes a few buttons, and lays down in the seat
	as the stars in the view screen begin to blur.  A small screen beside him
	flashes log #63: failed'.

Int.  Space station, Gambling Hall.  2085.

	The piece of paper beside the vent is blown up into the air.  It floats
	around, does some loops, and lands near the stairwell to the service hall,
	face up.  It reads:
	"subject: human male
	 problem: typical
	 method of redemption: a second chance"
	
	The paper gets pushed by another gust of wind.  It drifts up the stairs,
	out of sight.  The fans continue to circle overhead, a little more slowly.
	Shadows are cast everywhere.  The silence is disturbed by humming, and the 
	sound of cards shuffling.  The joker is visible, and swirls out of view
	as the camera pulls away from the scene.