Stars in the black of space. PAN DOWN to sapphire blue sky, the brighter stars still shining through. It's Arctic midnight, the weak sun tiny on the distant horizon. We SKIM along the water, in and around looming glacial cliffs--

The top of an iceberg pushes through the water's surface.
Carved into the ice is a single mammoth word:

			G O D Z I L L A

We continue past, along the ocean, and discover: An old fishing boat, the RAINBOW WARRIOR, holds position outside a small natural harbor. All lights extinguished.

FADE UP TITLE: ARCTIC OCEAN, NEAR THE 170th PARALLEL

ON DECK: Eco-warriors peer through high-powered binoculars and video cameras. Among them: An intense WOMAN. A RUSSIAN MAN with a scraggly beard. A surly BLOND MAN, who monitors a Geiger counter. All wear heavy parkas against the gray cold.

			BLOND MAN
	 Can anyone make out the registry?

WHAT THEY ARE WATCHING: A distant SALVAGE SHIP, moored inside the harbor. Its hoist is swung out over the sea. Flood lights illumine salvage divers as they submerge with hoist cables.

			RUSSIAN MAN
	 Not me.  Bojemoi...I think my
	 eyeballs are frozen.

			WOMAN
	 It's blacked out.  Whatever
	 they're up to, it's no goddamn
	 good.

Near the salvage ship, the divers guide the cable as the hoist engines begin working, winching the cable up.

			BLOND MAN
		 (looks up from Geiger
		  counter)
	 Background radiation is nearly a
	 hundred times normal.  They're
	 harvesting reactor cores.  They
	 must be.

			RUSSIAN MAN
	 We don't know that.  There's no
	 evidence of--





									   2.


			BLOND MAN
		 (pointedly accusing)
	 There's a thirty-year-plus history
	 of Soviets dumping nuclear waste
	 and old reactors into the Kara,
	 the Barents, the Sea of Japan--

			RUSSIAN MAN
		 (amused)
	 I swear, I was not there.  I had
	 a cold.

			BLOND MAN
	 So why not the Arctic?  Who knows
	 how many of these graveyards there
	 are?

			WOMAN
	 Something's wrong!

The two men re-focus on the salvage ship--

--where crewm