passengers-jon-spaihts

69.SUBDECK A - NUMBER SEVEN CARGO BAYJim drives his cart into a new bay - and stares in wonder.In oversized hibernation pods: cattle, horses, sheep, oxen.All asleep. Chickens, ducks and geese in individual cells.AURORA (V.O.)Like seeds, we carry what we need.The wind drives us - whether thetrade winds, the solar winds, or thewinds of chance.The next aisle holds plants in stasis: saplings in tubes,seedlings in individual vials.Jim stops in front of a glass case. Rosy light bathes hisface. He smiles. We don’t see why.AURORA (V.O.) (CONT’D)We take root where we fall. Andhelplessly we grow.VIENNA SUITE - BEDROOM - EVENINGAurora sits with her slate. Eyeing Jim’s side of the room.Giving in, she begins to explore Jim’s possessions: pokinginto the drawers of his nightstand and dresser.She opens his closet. Shifting things, she finds a dog-earedmanual on hibernation pods. She pulls it out.There’s a bookmark in the pages. She goes to open the book -and the bookmark slides into her hand.It’s the photo strip Jim took during his isolation: Fouridentical shots of his face, bearded and hollow-eyed. Themelancholy images hit her hard.She touches the pictures to make them move: but Jim sitsimmobile. In the fourth image, he sighs heavily.Voices in the hall.CLEANING ROBOT (O.S.)Hello, Passenger.JIM (O.S.)Hello, robot.Hastily Aurora replaces the manual. Closes the closet.Jim appears in the doorway: tool belt over his shoulder,duffel bag in hand.