LOUIS
I mean, this cancer scourge is like an invasion. An invasion of cancer vampires. And a recent one. Tell me someone who died of cancer a cen-tury ago.
DR. HUBBARD
I can't think of a name right now, Louis. But there must have been many...
LOUIS
Exactly! I mean, today we expect people to get cancer. One in six. Or maybe it's one in four. These things must be everywhere, using us ... Planting their slugs in us. I mean, everybody knows somebody who's died of cancer. Look at my family ... first my dad years ago, now Mom. Those creatures must be all around us ... feeding on us ... we just can't see them!
DR. HUBBARD
All right... all right. But we don't need your ... ah ... cancer vampires ... to explain this recent so-called scourge of cancer. In the modern world we're exposed to more carcinogens...
LOUIS
(laughing almost hysterically)
Oh, yeah ... carcinogens! That's what I used to believe in. And we read the official list of carcin-ogens and they're in everything we eat, breathe, wear ... I mean, come on! You medical experts want us to believe in "carcinogens" ... and you don't even know where tumors come from.
DR. HUBBARD
(angry but trying to hide the fact)
But you do?
LOUIS
Yes. Cancer vampires!
Triumphant but exhausted, Louis sits on the edge of his bed. Dr. Hubbard removes his pipe and leans forward to grab the young man by his upper arms. DR. HUBBARD
All right, Louis, I've listened to your fantasies and allowed your assumptions. Now will you lis-ten to my theory?
Louis nods, totally drained of energy.
DR. HUBBARD
My theory is that you're very concerned about your mother and very upset that she has cancer. In addition, you have a serious subdural hematoma that is creating low grade hallucinations. Your concern about your mother is dictating the form of these hallucinations.
(pauses, decides to be blunt)
Louis, be honest ... your father's death from can-cer when you were a boy changed you ... I re-member a happy boy ... outgoing ... generous ... in recent years you've been withdrawn, moody, your behavior alternating between danger-ously reckless and near-paranoid.
(beat)
I know you'd love to see ... a thing ... some-thing solid ... something you could fight rather than the intangible assassin of cells running amok. But it's an hallucination, Louis ... a visual malfunction ... and the sooner you admit it, the sooner you can get well so you can help your mother get well. Louis is staring at the doctor. He manages to nod.
DR. HUBBARD
(flushed, chewing on his pipe to calm down)
Good. Now Mr. Winters is having his radiation treatment about now. The same sort of treatment your mother will be receiving in a few days. Would you care to see it?
Still staring, Louis nods again.
DR. HUBBARD
Fine. Now you have to try to be sensible. No more nonsense about cancer vampires.
(he smiles)
It could upset Mr. Winters and the other patients on the floor. Louis nods again.
DR. HUBBARD
Excellent. Then I'll go see if we're ready to start his treatment. We'll send an orderly up for you.
(he realizes that the pipe is in his mouth,
removes it, and smiles)
Now, don't you feel better, Louis?
Louis nods a final time. Then, in a very tight shot, from Louis's P.O.V., we are in E.C.U. of Dr. Hubbard's face: his mouth is slightly open, showing white teeth, healthy gums, and a hint of tongue. From beneath that tongue comes first the fleshy antennae and then the green-gray body of a tu-mor slug. It moves farther out and then withdraws, as if burrowing from the light.
FADE OUT
FADE IN on: ACT III
8. INTERIOR. RADIOLOGY TREATMENT AND CONTROL ROOM. DAY.
Louis has been wheeled into the Radiology Control Room in a wheelchair but now he stands to peer through a thick window into the Treatment Room where Jack Winters lies on the treatment couch under the overhanging eye of a massive supervoltage cobalt 60 machine. Jack Winters looks small and frail and terribly vulnerable as he lies on the treatment couch—parts of his body shielded by lead
"molds", his upper torso bare with a target outline drawn on his upper chest in bright dye, an unsubtle + centered where the powerful X-rays will penetrate. We can see Jack breathing rapidly, shallowly, his emaciated chest rising and falling, his skin offering almost the only color in a vast Treatment Room which is mostly white machinery and black and white tile fading into black shadows. Dr. Hubbard is in the Control Room with Louis and a RADIA-TION THERAPIST who stands next to the complicated controls.
DR. HUBBARD
This will be Mr. Winters' next-to-last session. We believe that the tumors are responding very nicely to treatment.
(glances at Louis)
Radiation treatment and chemotherapy have come a long way since the days of your father's illness.
The therapist taps controls while watching his monitors and the massive machine above Jack Winters hums, moves, and lowers its ominous "eye" to a firing position just above the + on the old man's upper chest. A light from the machine snaps on and illuminates the target area.
LOUIS
(clearing his throat, obviously impressed
and a bit frightened)
How much radiation does Jack have to receive to beat the cancer?
DR. HUBBARD
We estimate that seven thousand rads should be sufficient to sterilize this tumor.
LOUIS
(turning away from the window)
Seven thousand rads? That sounds like a lot. How much is a rad?
DR. HUBBARD
Well, to give you an idea ... a regular chest X-ray ... such as you received when you were brought in after your accident the other day ... would expose you to about five millirem . . . that's a total of about five thousandths of a single rad.
LOUIS
My God ... and Jack has to receive seven thousand rads ... a million times as much.
(he looks back through the window
at the waiting man)
How can he take it?
DR. HUBBARD
In small doses. A single dose of seven hundred rads would be fatal to about half the people who received it. So we parcel it out... a bit at a time ... and still there are side effects.
(quickly, to avoid Louis dwelling
on the negative)
But the principle of radiation treatment is well-proven, Louis. The benefits are well-documented.
LOUIS
(lost in thought as he stares at Jack
alone in the other room)
And my mother will be receiving these treat-ments?
DR. HUBBARD
Depending upon post-surgical recovery and re-sults of other biopsies ... yes. (he nods to the radiation therapist)
We're ready...
The radiation therapist throws the switch. Louis is startled as violet radiation fills the window, bathes his face in light.
LOUIS
I see it!
DR. HUBBARD
The actual radiation is invisible, of course.
The radiation is visible. Visible to Louis, at least. We share his altered vision as the Treatment Room is filled with a brilliant violet radiation, centering on the cobalt 60
machine's lens but arcing and pulsing in wild geometries as the radiation leaps from the machine to Jack. The others see none of this but we CLOSE ON Louis's startled face, painted violet in reflected light, and see the sudden shock and revulsion as the TUMOR SLUGS begin to slide out of Jack's chest.
LOUIS
Look! The...
(he bites off his exclamation before tipping off Dr. Hubbard)
DR. HUBBARD
(checks a dial)
Twenty-eight point six seconds. Precisely enough for this treatment. Louis begins to explain but sees Dr. Hubbard watching him carefully. Louis shuts up. He is thinking quickly.
LOUIS
What ... what is the source of the radiation?
RADIATION THERAPIST
In this case, radioisotopes of Cobalt 60.
LOUIS
Can I see them?
DR. HUBBARD
What, Louis?
LOUIS
(attempting a smile)
Nothing. Nothing at all.
The tumor slugs emerge, attracted by the bright light from the cobalt 60 machine. First one, then a second, then a third ... They emerge from Jack's chest—some com-pletely, some only partially—as if they are drawn irresist-ibly to the glow. The radiation therapist throws a switch. The hum disappears and the explosion of violet light fades and dies. The tumor slugs that emerged completely have shriveled and died ... the survivors burrow back into flesh once again.
LOUIS
(unable to contain himself)
There wasn't enough time ... not enough radiation!
The radiation therapist glances at Dr. Hubbard and the oncologist nods, still humoring his young patient. The therapist goes to a wall safe, casually runs through a brief combination—we see Louis watching carefully and we also catch the numbers, 17-right, 43-left, 11-right—and then the therapist dons ridiculously thick gloves, opens the thick vault door, and removes one of several heavy lead storage cylinders emblazoned with the international warn-ing symbol for radiation hazard.
LOUIS
Are those the isotopes?
DR. HUBBARD
These are their shielded lead storage units. The actual isotopes are tiny ... but dangerous. One isotope would power the cobalt 60 machine for many hours. Each ... unshielded ... would de-liver several thousand rads at once.
LOUIS
How are the isotopes loaded into the machine?
DR. HUBBARD
Very, very carefully. Remote mechanical handlers. Lead aprons. Lead shielding ... it's quite compli-cated. Have you seen enough?
(he nods for the therapist to return the isotope to safe keeping) Louis looks through the window at Jack. The old man is shivering slightly from the cold. He turns his head toward the window and smiles. The dead and blackened tumor slugs are still visible on his bare chest.
LOUIS
(to himself)
Yes ... I've seen enough.
CUT TO:
9. INT. NIGHT. LOUIS'S HOSPITAL ROOM
Louis comes awake with a start. It is dark. From some-where down the hall comes a soft chime and the squeak of rubber-soled shoes on tile. But it is a closer sound which has awakened Louis. The SLURPING is coming from be-hind Jack's curtain
... an even louder, ruder noise than that of the night before.
LOUIS
(groggily, still half asleep)
Jack?
Louis slides back the curtains. Jack is dead, mouth agape, fingers curled into rigid claws, eyes wide and staring. The SLURPING, SLIDING noise comes from tumor slugs sliding on and around his body ... his pajamas writhe and ripple from their movement and some are spilling from the gaps in his pajama tops. A cancer vampire squats over the corpse, head lowered, proboscis deep inside Jack's chest like some nightmarish mosquito drinking its fill. The SLURPING is very loud.
LOUIS
Ahhh...
The cancer vampire lifts its face. Tumor slugs drip from its long snout ... one slides up the opening with a RASP-ING sound. The cancer vampire looks directly at Louis, its caked, yellow eyes peering myopically.
LOUIS
Uh-uh ... uh-uh...
Louis fumbles on his littered dinner tray, finds a knife, and throws it with all of his strength. It strikes the chest of the cancer vampire with a soft, rotten sound, but instead of sticking it sinks into the pulpy flesh like a dropped utensil floating in a pool of mucus. The cancer vampire idly ex-tracts the knife with long fingers and casts it aside. It has not been hurt. It raises a hand toward Louis.