Act I, Scene 1
A flashback sequence, taking place 15 years prior to the present day.
EXT. A DESERT ROAD IN NEVADA, JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT
We open with a panorama of a little neighborhood on the outskirts of a little town in Nevada, its streets empty and devoid of life. All is silent...until we hear a car radio blaring rock music, steadily getting loader.
From out of the far left of our field of vision, a beat-up blue Volvo roars through, taking full advantage of the empty roads.
INT. BEN GRIMM'S VOLVO
We get a good look at BEN GRIMM behind the steering wheel. He's a well-built, square-jawed young man of about 16, wearing a denim jacket and a wife-beater, milking his free Saturday night for all it's worth. In the backseat, we see a football scribbled with signatures. Under that, piles of discarded comic books (at least three weeks' allowance worth) plaster the floor.
EXT. DESERT ROAD
The Volvo veers off the road and tears off into the surrounding desert, slowly fading into the distant horizon.
EXT. NEVADA DESERT
In an empty patch of dry desert scrub, we see a young REED RICHARDS, a skinny, bespectacled high-schooler of about Ben's age, busying himself with setting up a telescope on a tripod. Two folded-out lawn chairs sit nearby. Every few seconds, he turns to a notebook filled with complicated-looking math equations and makes a few marks with a pencil.
Reed finds the right adjustment on the telescope knobs and peers through the eyepiece, letting out a deep breath as he takes in the silently twinkling constellations. A meteor (the first of many) streaks through the sky, and Reed smiles.
From off-screen, the music from Ben's car radio reaches Reed's ears. Startled, he looks up from the telescope and accidentally bumps it. Before he can go back to fussing over the knobs, he whirls around and sees Ben's Volvo kicking up a cloud of dust in the desert sand. Putting a palm to his face, he sighs.
Whipping his Volvo around and bringing it to a halt, Ben gets out, laughing at Reed's look of annoyance.
BEN: I miss the meteors?
Reed puts a finger to his lips and shushes his friend, then gestures up towards the sky. Ben turns around and looks up, his mouth open in silent wonder as he sees three meteors streak by in quick succession. Reed goes over to Ben's side, and they take in the sight together.
BEN: Huh. So this is how Reeds Richards spends his Friday nights. `
REED: Just drink it in, man. Let the moment last.
BEN: Are we on a date?
REED: Shhhhh. Come on, don't spoil it. It's the ancient art of stargazing. And no city lights for miles around. This is holy ground, right here.
BEN: What d'you mean "Shhhh"? Am I gonna scare the meteors away?
Reed rolls his eyes.
BEN: You ever wonder if anyone's lookin' back at us?
Reed looks philosophical. If he had a beard, he'd stroke it right about now.
REED: Well, the night sky's a history book. Over all that distance, even light can take thousands of years to reach us. If somebody had a telescope that could look that far, maybe they'd see a few flat-faced apes swinging clubs at each other.
He cocks an eye at Ben.
REED: But if they were looking at you, I guess they wouldn't know the difference.
Ben balls up his denim jacket and throws it at Reed's head.
Laughing, Reed walks over to the telescope again and adjusts the knobs while digging through a backpack on the ground. He pulls out a handful of Cheez Doodles and crunches on them as he looks through the telescope.
Reed picks the bag up and offers it to Ben.
REED: Cheez Doodles?
Ben groans.
BEN: Come on, Reed. Some of us gotta watch our physiques.
REED: For what? You've been off the football team for, what...three weeks?
BEN: You really gonna bring that up now?
(Beat)
REED: Sorry, Ben.
BEN: It's alright.
(Beat)
REED: You still keep in touch with any of the old guys?
BEN: You're asking about them? After what they did to you in the locker room?
REED: They're still your friends, aren't they?
BEN: Not after what I did to them.
REED: You didn't have to do that. When you get your ass kicked as many times as I have, you learn to shrug it off.
BEN: You shouldn't have to. Just 'cause it ain't my problem doesn't I have to just stand by and watch it happen.
REED: Does Coach know? About the fight?
BEN: Nah, the other guys on the team ain't saying anything. And I bet Coach was glad to be rid of me, anyway. He probably thinks I left 'cause I got tired of going to practice every day.
REED: Right, Ben Grimm scores a touchdown pass every other week, he's got the girls lining up outside his door, everybody at school knows his name, and he ditches it all 'cause he's lazy?
BEN: What's a better story? He threw it all away just to save that scrawny "Richards" kid from an ass-whipping?
Reed turns his full attention to the view through the telescope.
REED: They say Clyde Tombaugh built his first telescope out of old car parts.
BEN: Hey, don't get any ideas. The Volvo's all I got. (Beat) Which one was he again?
REED: The farmboy that discovered Pluto.
BEN: Goddamn. Without him, what would we call Mickey's dog?
REED: The Greeks didn't even have telescopes. They drew all their star charts by hand. Now we've got space probes, we've got rovers on Mars...
Ben, well-accustomed to these rants, shoots Reed an "Ah, here we go again..." look.
REED: Just think: once, this land we're standing on was uncharted territory. Once, we didn't even know how far out the Solar system went. We didn't even know where its center was. Deep space, though... We don't know what's out there now, but some day...
BEN: Yeah, well... If you ever make it out there, I promise I'll be right there next to you.
REED: Yeah?
BEN: 'Course. Hell, I gotta watch your back through half of high school, right? I can't let you go out into space alone, can I?
REED: Is that a promise? Is the aimless Ben Grimm making a promise?
BEN: Yeah, Richards. I'd call that a promise. If you make it past puberty, you be sure and give me a call.
EXT. EARTH'S ORBIT
We see a small space probe, glowing with some kind of bizarre energy, slowly gathering speed as it hurtles toward Earth. Its exterior begins to heat up as it picks up speed.
RADIO (V.O.): -on a collision course! I repeat: Artemis is on a collision course with Earth! Set to touch down in (static) Southwestern United States at coordinates (static) calling Dr. Storm and his team for immediate retrieval!
We follow the probe as it approaches Earth's surface, the black of space suddenly giving way to the clouds of Earth's atmosphere.
EXT. NEVADA DESERT
An awestruck Ben freezes and looks up to the sky, mouth open in shock. Reed, still looking through the telescope's eyepiece, remains oblivious.
BEN: Holy sh-
REED: Hey look, there goes another one!
BEN: Goddamnit, Reed! Use your eyes!
Reed looks up from the telescope and suddenly looks just as shocked as Ben.
We see the space probe complete its fall and collide in the desert scrub, less than half a mile away from the boys. Metal debris flies in all directions.
For a moment, Ben and Reed just stand there together and stare, unsure of what to say.
In the distance, we hear the sound of beating helicopter rotors.
BEN: You hear that?
REED: Well, that's, uh...that's really something, right there.
A few seconds pass. Then, without a word, Reed and Ben spring into action: Ben jumps into the driver's seat of the Volvo and guns the ignition. Reed scrambles to grab the telescope, his backpack, and the two lawn chairs, and dashes over to the Volvo to join Ben. After a second's hesitation, he runs back to grab his discarded bag of Cheez Doodles.
Back at the Volvo, Reed throws the lawn chairs and his telescope into the back seat and jumps into the passenger seat with his notebook and his Cheez Doodles in hand.
BEN: Come on, let's motorvate!
Ben steers the car in the space probe's direction.
REED: Whoa! Hey! Your house is that way!
He points in the opposite direction.
BEN: C'mon, Richie! How many chances like this are you gonna get?
The Volvo speeds towards the twisted wreckage of the probe, against a scared Reed's protests.
Suddenly, three black vans with tinted windows appear behind the Volvo, quickly gaining ground on Reed and Ben.
INT. BEN'S VOLVO
Ben catches sight of the black vans in his rearview mirror and starts to panic. Reed, oddly calm, picks up on a certain important detail:
REED: They're not using sirens...
BEN: 'Cause they don't want to be seen! And neither do we!
EXT. NEVADA DESERT
A fourth van appears and pulls out in front of Ben's Volvo, blocking his route. Unfazed, Ben steers a hard right and swerves to avoid it. His right rear-view mirror snaps off on the van's grille, but the Volvo gets through unscathed.
INT. BEN'S VOLVO
BEN: So this is how Reed Richards spends his Friday nights?
REED: BEN!
BEN: I think I hear my mother calling.
He jerks the steering wheel around and makes a hard U-turn.
EXT. NEVADA DESERT
We see the Volvo take off in the opposite direction, straining its engine to get as far away from the probe as possible. Too late, though: one of the vans heads toward the Volvo at ramming speed. Ben makes another hard turn, but it's more than the car can take: it flips over, coming to a permanent stop.
Bruised and dazed, Reed and Ben (now hanging upside down in their seats) unbuckle themselves and crawl out.
The vans stop, and about six SECTION 4 AGENTS in black windbreakers, black baseball caps and dark sunglasses jump out, brandishing handguns and shouting into earpieces.
AGENT 1: Hey! You! Stop where you are!
Reed and Ben both freeze in the middle of belly-crawling from the upturned Volvo. Reed moves to stand, but an agent cocks a gun in his face.
AGENT 2: "Stop" means "Stop", punk! Hands behind your head!
Reed, almost paralyzed with fear, moves to obey, but he can't stop his hands from shaking. Ben's face twists in anger.
AGENT 3: You too! Move it!
BEN: Don't point that gun at him.
AGENT 3: You givin' orders now, kid?
BEN: I said don't point that gun at him!
The agent grabs Ben by his elbows, pulls him to his feet, and moves to shove him up against the Volvo. But from offscreen, the voice of his superior, DR. FRANKLIN STORM, suddenly stops him.
FRANKLIN: Hold it right there!
The agent drops Ben instantly, and whirls around to face his commander. For the first time, we see Franklin Storm, a forty-something man with greying hair and a short beard. Though he has the toughness that comes with a position of authority in a government agency, he carries himself with the gentle, fatherly demeanor of a science professor. As a single father of two, he doesn't like seeing children threatened.
FRANKLIN: You here to do your job or wave your gun around, Agent?
AGENT 3: Sir, they...
FRANKLIN: Shut up.
He turns to face Ben and Reed.
FRANKLIN: Come on, it's alright. You can stand up.
Reed makes his way to his feet, and Ben relaxes.
FRANKLIN: You got any kids, Agent?
AGENT 3: No, sir. Look, I understand what you...
FRANKLIN: Shut up. (Beat) Me? I got two waiting for me back home. I don't threaten children. When you follow my orders, neither do you.
A group of black helicopters approaches the crash site, the wind from their rotors tousling Franklin's hair. He doesn't seem to notice, but Reed can't keep his eyes off of them. A few of them come down low and drop nylon cords to the ground as the agents work to gather up the space probe's wreckage and attach it to the cords.
FRANKLIN: Want to tell me what you kids are doing out here?
He eyes Ben's Volvo and sees Reed's telescope leaning out of the now-open door.
FRANKLIN: Stargazer, huh?
Reed gives a nervous nod.
FRANKLIN: A stargazer and a bruiser. Match made in heaven, right?
He looks at Reed's notebook, which Reed is now clutching tightly to his chest.
FRANKLIN: What's your name, son?
REED: R-Reed Richards.
FRANKLIN: Reed Richards? Guess I'll remember that one easy. How 'bout you?
He indicates Ben, but Ben stays silent.
FRANKLIN: I'm not gonna hurt you, kid. Neither are they.
(beat)
BEN: Ben. Ben Grimm.
Franklin indicates Reed's notebook.
FRANKLIN: Mind if I have a look at that, Reed?
After some hesitation, Reed gives it to him. Franklin puts on a pair of reading glasses and leafs through the pages, looking closely at each one for any incriminating notes about the probe. His expression changes, though, when he sees the complex mathematical equations lining the pages: no sixteen year-old should be doing this kind of advanced math.
FRANKLIN: Is this an Omega Sequence?
He taps a page, and Reed nods.
FRANKLIN: And no cross-outs, either. Most people don't get it right on their first try. And at a factor of 37, too.
REED: You just have to account for Lambert's Paradox when you model it the first time. Easy, really.
FRANKLIN: Yeah? What kind of hardware you using? Dell? Pentium?
REED: I built my own in my garage a few summers ago.
FRANKLIN: Did you, now?
REED: I had to go to the dump to get an old TV for the monitor. The rest was easy, though.
Franklin leafs through about twenty more pages, his demeanor changing from suspicion, to confusion, to admiration. He sees potential in this young man. Behind his back, the agents shoot him incredulous glances, as if waiting for him to slap the cuffs on the boys.
FRANKLIN: How old are you, Reed?
REED: Sixteen.
FRANKLIN: They teach you this stuff in school?
REED: Not, uh...not really.
FRANKLIN: You taught yourself? What, don't you have something else to do with your free time?
REED: Not really. The, uh...the chess team kicked me out when I won too many games.
Franklin smiles at that. A boy after his own heart. Satisfied that Reed isn't a budding commie spy, he gives him back his notebook.
FRANKLIN: I think you'll want to hang onto that.
Franklin gestures to the helicopters above him, and they speed off with the space probe's wreckage in tow. A few agents move over to flip Ben's Volvo back right side up, ignoring Ben's winces when he sees the chipped paint.
AGENT 1: Shut it down! We're on the move!
FRANKLIN: Well, boys... I'd tell you that you didn't see anything, but you look to me like you keep your eyes open.
AGENT 2: Dr. Storm! Command's on the horn! We need to leave now!
Ignoring him, Franklin pulls a pen and a slip of paper from his jacket pocket and scribbles down a few words.
FRANKLIN: You say you're just sixteen, Reed. Well, I know you'll be thinking about your future soon. That knack for science can take you places.
He hands Reed the slip of paper. The words "Section 4" are written on it, with a phone number under it.
FRANKLIN: The name's Franklin Storm. I work for the Department of Defense's Special Ops Division. Section 4. That's "Extranormal Science".
REED: What?
FRANKLIN: Don't look us up in the phone book. You won't find us.
REED: I've never-
FRANKLIN: Most people haven't. I'll tell you what, though: if you need somewhere to go after you finish school, you give our training department a call. I think we might have a place for you.
He gives Reed and Ben a crisp wave, and he and the agents start to file back into the black vans. He gets in one last word before closing the door of the nearest van.
FRANKLIN: And if you ever tell anyone what you saw here tonight...
BEN: Mister, I ain't got the first clue what I just saw.
Franklin winks.
FRANKLIN: That's right. Chances are, you never will. Take care, boys.
For a moment, Reed and Ben stand together in silence, the wind blowing through the desert scrub.
BEN: So this is how Reed Richards spends his Friday nights.
(Beat)
BEN: You want to tell me what that was all about?
REED: I'll tell you when I figure it out.
Together, Reed and Ben walk, obviously shell-shocked, back to the Volvo. Ben drives them off.
