bArcOde

LEON
Okay if I talk?

Holden doesn't answer. He's centering Leon's eye on
the machine.

LEON
I kinda get nervous when I
take tests.

HOLDEN
Don't move.

LEON
Sorry.

He tries not to move but finally his lips can't help
a sheepish smile.

LEON
Already had I.Q. test this year --
but I don't think I never had a...

HOLDEN
(cutting in)
Reaction time is a factor in this,
so please pay attention. Answer
quickly as you can.

Leon compresses his lips and nods his big head eagerly.
Holden's voice is cold, geared to intimidate and evoke
response.

HOLDEN
You're in a desert, walking along
in the sand when all of a sudden
you look down and see a...

LEON
What one?

It was a timid interruption, hardly audible.

HOLDEN
What?

LEON
What desert?

HOLDEN
Doesn't make any difference what
desert -- it's completely
hypothetical.

LEON
But how come I'd be there?

HOLDEN
Maybe you're fed up, maybe you
want to be by yourself -- who
knows. So you look down and
see a tortoise. It's crawling
towards you...

LEON
A tortoise. What's that?

HOLDEN
Know what a turtle is?

LEON
Of course.

HOLDEN
Same thing.

LEON
I never seen a turtle.

He sees Holden's patience is wearing thin.

LEON
But I understand what you mean.

HOLDEN
You reach down and flip the
tortoise over on its back, Leon.

Keeping an eye on his subject, Holden notes the dials
in the Voight-Kampff. One of the needles quivers
slightly.

LEON
You make these questions, Mr.
Holden, or they write 'em down
for you?

Disregarding the question, Holden continues, picking
up the pace.

HOLDEN
The tortoise lays on its back,
its belly baking in the hot sun,
beating its legs trying to turn
itself over. But it can't. Not
without your help. But you're
not helping.

Leon's upper lip is quivering.

LEON
Whatcha mean, I'm not helping?

HOLDEN
I mean you're not helping!
Why is that, Leon?

Leon looks shocked, surprised. But the needles in
the computer barely move. Holden goes for the inside
of his coat. But big Leon is faster. His LASER BURNS
a hole the size of a nickel through Holden's stomach.
Unlike a bullet, a laser causes no impact. It goes
through Holden's spine and comes out his back, clean
as a whistle. Like a rag doll he falls back off the
bench from the waist up. By the time he hits the
floor, big slow Leon is already walking away. But he
stops, turns and with a little smile of satisfaction,
FIRES at the machine on the table.

There's a flash and a puff of smoke. The Voight-Kampff
is hit dead center, crippled but not destroyed; as
Leon walks out of the room, one of its lights begins
to blink, faint but steady.