Gattaca Page #2

In front of one of the jars is a handwritten shopping list -

"TRUFFLES, CIGS, VODKA". Jerome smiles to himself as he

retrieves the note along with one of the jars. He checks the

jar's label. Satisfied with the date written there, he breaks

the seal and pours the contents into the clear, silicon pouch of

an IV-like device lying on the steel bathroom counter.

He seals the pouch and checks the apparatus by opening the valve

on its fine tube and squirting a small quantity of the liquid

into the nearby toilet bowl, as one would test a syringe. We

remain on Jerome's face as he reaches between his legs and

inserts the pouch.

Reopening the refrigerator, Jerome slides out a tray containing

neat rows of slim, fingertip-sized plastic sachets filled with a

deep, red-colored liquid. He removes his gloves, selects one of

the sachets and carefully adheres the sachet to the pad at the

end of his index finger. He prepares a second sachet for his

middle finger. Jerome then applies skin-colored cover-up makeup

to the sachets, blending them in with the color of his fingers.

JEROME, still dressed in his robe, climbs a large, spiral

staircase to the floor above.

INT. JEROME'S CONDOMINIUM. EARLY MORNING.

He emerges at the top of the staircase into a similarly large,

loft-stlye condominium. Through the floor to ceiling window

that opens onto a balcony we see that dawn is only just starting

to leak into the night sky.

In the bedroom JEROME removes a shirt from a drycleaning bag.

Printed on the bag - "Confidentiality Guaranteed". He emerges

from his bedroom, dressed in a smart albeit unconventionally cut

suit. He adjusts his tie in the mirror, careful not to disturb

the sachets attached to his fingertips.

INT. INVESTIGATOR'S POOL. MORNING.

A lone MAN swims a ferocious lap of freestyle in what appears to

be a pool of enormous length - yet he never reaches the pool's

end. We pull wider to reveal that the man is swimming against

an artificial current in a pool barely larger than himself.

Abruptly, the man stops and stands up - the fast-flowing current

instantly stilled. We glimpse the face of INVESTIGATOR LUCAS.

Thirties, he has a youthful yet rigid face. We have the

impression that he does not swim for pleasure.

EXT. CONDOMINIUM COMPLEX. MORNING.

It is still early as JEROME exits the building's underground

parking garage in an immaculate Studebaker Avanti and proceeds

down the long straight driveway. He exchanges a wave with a

GARDENER trimming a lawn.

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