Morning Star

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A CHYRON OVER BLUE: Innerdepartmental Psych Evaluation,

United Nations Intelligence Division. 10/07/2037 Subject:

Webber, M. Evaluator: Jacobs, S.

ON VIDEO:

WEBBER, 40ish, tired. A therapeutically bland backdrop.

WEBBER:

I guess if we’d been true People ofthe Earth - farmers or Indians or

something, we’d have been watchingthe skies. We would have known

something was coming. As it was, wewere driving to Stop N’ Shop.

FLASHBACK - INT. PRIUS -- DAY

A 5-YEAR-OLD BOY plays with an ORANGE DINOSAUR to theaccompaniment of a RADIO being frantically tuned...

NEWS REPORTER (O.S.)

...fleeing these areas... reports,

as yet unsubstantiated...

At the wheel, the boy’s mother, MELISSA, looks terrified. Theboy himself seems oblivious to whatever’s going on, watchingpassing blocks that look like they’ve been hastily evacuated.

LITTLE BOY:

You’re going fast!

The voice is replaced by an EMERGENCY BROADCAST TONE as astreetlight turns YELLOW.

MELISSA:

Honey, just let me listen, ok...?

Melissa turns her head to look back. Just when an SUV

BRUTALLY SIDESWIPES THEM... The Prius is spun around, front-

end totaled. The SUV, sputtering, disappears down the street.

The boy cries hysterically. Melissa hushes him even as shefrantically checks him for injury.

EXT. STREET -- DUSK

Holding her son, Melissa looks up and down the weirdlydeserted street. She gets no service on her phone. Her eyesshow hope as a BMW speeds toward them.

2.

She tries to flag the driver down. He SWERVES around her,

DINGING a parked car, speeding on, heedlessly. Melissa holdsthe boy tighter.

Her anxious gaze happens to land on a puddle in a potholenear her feet. Reflected in the puddle, A WHITE FIGURE leapsfrom one rooftop to another.

She whips around to look behind her. Nothing there now. Sheholds her kid tightly and starts walking, the boy holding hisdragon. From down the deserted, dusky street behind themcomes an INHUMAN WAIL. Melissa makes herself focus on what’s

ahead... which soon turns out to be A SILHOUETTED FIGURE

crouched on a ledge above them. It looks, at first, like astatue. A gargoyle. Whatever it is, it’s alive. It turns itshead to follow Melissa and the boy as they move on. She trieshard not to break into a run.

A SHADOW flits across the street behind them. Vaguely human-

shaped but not moving like anything human moves. More“gargoyles” appear on ledges all around them.

Now Melissa starts running with the child in her arms... onlyto abruptly put on the brakes as she rounds a corner andfinds herself facing a COLUMN OF HEAVILY ARMED NATIONALGUARDSMEN and ARMORED VEHICLES rolling toward them.

She opens her mouth to call to them but her voice is drownedout by the HUGE VAPROUS EXPLOSION that takes out half the

column right before her eyes. Now, suddenly, she and herchild find themselves in the middle of the WAR OF THE WORLDS.

FLYING ORBS descend from the skies, blasting the terrifiedand hapless soldiers. ALIENS in weirdly articulatedexoskeletons attack from every direction, wielding strangeweapons. A GIGANTIC BLACK HEXAGON lowers over the street. Anorifice opens at its base and hundreds of Lovecraftiannightmare things emerge, with metallic yet somehow fleshyTENTACLES snaking out, hungrily.

Melissa hides with her child behind the wreck of a car. She

makes the boy look at her.

MELISSA:

Martin, you have to be my big b...

A TENTACLE wraps around her and snatches her away, into thesky. The little boy, left alone, in shock, watches her fly.

INT. THERAPIST’S OFFICE -- DAY

A motherly THERAPIST, bundled in a sweater, observes Webber’ssubdued reaction to the tale he’s just told.

3.

THERAPIST:

You then spent four years in aseries of refugee camps until yourfather found you?

WEBBER:

Half the people my age have verysimilar stories.

THERAPIST:

You were the worst possible age.

Old enough to experience the fullterror of the invasion but too

young to fight...

WEBBER:

I saw a little action as a cadet.

On “the Goblin.”

THERAPIST:

But not enough?

WEBBER:

The Truce thwarted my revenge.

Thus, I’m a tinderbox of unresolved

anger... is the hour up?

THERAPIST:

Your division’s vetting processmight be the reason we came intoeach other’s lives but that doesn’t

mean we have to be adversarial.

WEBBER:

I don’t consider you an adversary.

And I truly don’t give a sh*t if I

get this promotion or not.

THERAPIST:

You’d have me believe you don’tgive a sh*t about anything... You

did see your mother again?

WEBBER:

Just the once.

EXT. FOOTBALL STADIUM -- DAY

A crowd rages as PRISONERS are led to a BONFIRE. Theprisoners resemble humans but their faces and flesh have beenflayed so that a subderma of alien skin has been exposed. The

crowd cheers as these human imposters are thrown into theflames, one by one.

4.

Young Webber and his FATHER, a careworn man in a frayed suit,

remain stoic and silent as a creature that wears Melissa’s

face defiantly mocks the mockers, an inhuman voice coming outof her mouth, some alien language. Webber’s father holds theboy tight as his mother leaps into the fire. As the humanguise burns away, the alien underneath can be seen. Thelittle boy doesn’t look away.

BACK TO:

THERAPIST:

As an adult, you understand thatwasn’t your mother...

WEBBER:

As a child, I understood. These

things are pretty simple. Peoplelike you try to complicate them.

We’re different species.

Eventually, we kill them or theykill us. Everything else is Kabuki.

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