//------------------------------// // 9 - Plans Into Action // Story: The Lost Ponies: Jurassic Park // by CompactDisc //------------------------------// Since leaving the beach, the expedition team had cut their way through about half a mile of thick jungle before reaching an old jeep track. Carr’s SUV had ploughed through the dense foliage with the aid of a series of cutters on its front and chainsaws had too been employed by the team. It had been a struggle; occasionally the RV beached itself on fallen trees and needed the assistance of the SUV to get through, but soon enough the convoy reached the jeep trail. “Well, here we are,” Thorne said through the intercom to Carr in the SUV. “You should have the GPS imagery appearing on your screen about now.” He tapped a few buttons on the dashboard. “Got it,” came Harding’s voice through the radio set. “Good. Now as you can see, this trail leads all the way up to the compound so for the meantime, just follow it up and we’ll be right behind you. Before you do, though, hold on: we’re seeing if we can get any information about the dinosaurs from the mainframe. Y’know, nesting sites, territories, whatever...” “Okay, yeah we’ll wait here for a moment.” Thorne turned back to Levine and Malcolm, who had both crowded around the onboard computer. “Any luck boys?” “Just one moment,” Levine responded. “We might be on to something.” He continued to navigate the system, doing his best to ignore Malcolm over his shoulder, constantly suggesting he “click that” or “go there”. “Hmm... Ah, this looks promising – Ian, the sample I sent you. It was microchipped, was it not?” “Well, yeah it was. A radio chip of sorts.” “Quite. So... Look here. There’s an option to ‘activate UHF radio transceivers’. I assume they must have these scattered across the island to, well, communicate with the animals’ radio tags.” “So what are you waiting for?” Thorne asked, frustrated. “Just turn the damn thing on, stop talking about it.” “Don’t rush me, Jack,” Levine snapped. “Okay. Here we go.” Immediately, the GPS readout began to populate with green and red dots. They increased each second until the entire GPS map was covered in vast blotches of green and scattered red dots. The readout seemed to update itself every few seconds, many of the dots moving around. “Look at that,” Thorne said. “That’s some clever shit, right there.” “You seeing this?” Harding asked through the radio. “I guess now we’ll know exactly where the dinos are.” Malcolm sat down in the passenger seat of the RV. “Should help to keep us out of trouble.” “Yeah,” Thorne agreed as he picked up the radio. “Right, Sarah, tell Eddie to follow the track – let’s do it.” “Gotcha,” Harding replied. As Thorne finished with the radio, Malcolm reached over. “Hey, pass me that radio.” Raising his eyebrows, Thorne did as the man asked. “Sarah, uh, it’s me. Make sure Eddie hears this too. If it looks like the convoy is headed for any red patches – any red patches – I want you to stop the jeep and get back to the RV as quickly as you two can. Okay?” “Sure,” Harding replied after a pause. “But we should be fine.” With that, the SUV pulled away and Thorne drove the RV closely behind – the convoy was on the move. “Hoping you’ll be okay and actually being okay are two different things,” Malcolm muttered as he set the radio receiver down. “Good call on warning them, actually. This RV is pretty dino-proof but that SUV doesn’t offer much protection. And I don’t know about you but I’d like to see us all come back alive.” “Indeed,” Malcolm said curtly. Feeling a little light-headed, he went back to the kitchen and grabbed a drink of water, promptly returning to the passenger’s seat. “You know,” he began as he sat down, changing the subject. “I find it very strange that all of the systems here on Site B are still running. I mean, it’s – it’s been some years since InGen went bankrupt. You’d think they’d have switched the mainframe here off. But we’ve just been able to connect to the computer network and activate the dinosaur tracking system. Doesn’t that seem a little strange?” “Well yeah, but who are we to complain? If it helps us stay out of danger, find these ponies, and do our research then I don’t mind,” Thorne said. “It doesn’t bother me.” “No no, it doesn’t bother me as such either. It’s just – there has to be something more here, do you not think?” From behind them, Levine laughed. “Ian, for the first time in three weeks I might actually agree with you.” “Makes a change,” Malcolm mumbled. “But – er – yes, it is odd. Didn’t you get that old InGen laptop in an auction?” “I did,” Levine said. “InGen were selling off their stock.” “Precisely. Then why didn’t they sell any of this radio tacking equipment? Why is it all still here? And furthermore, why is it still on?” “There may be more to this place than any of us first imagined... InGen can’t be behind it. But then, who is?” “Perhaps check the system,” Malcolm said. “Maybe there’ll be some records of what happened.” “I doubt that, but I’ll look.” “Well, you never know—” “Gentlemen, if you’d please shut up for a minute,” Thorne interjected, “and direct your attention forwards...” He trailed off, gesturing outside. It was then that the two academics noted that the convoy had stopped. They peered out the windscreen and were greeted with a shocking sight. “My God...” “I’m assuming you’re seeing this,” Carr said through the radio. “Yeah...” Thorne answered. With that he rose, made his way to the trailer and grabbed a shotgun. “Come on guys,” he said to Malcolm and Levine. “We need to check this out.” “And go – go outside?” “Yes, Ian. Go outside. If you don’t feel safe there’s a goddamn armoury in the trailer. Now come on.” Thorne stepped outside, promptly followed by Malcolm and Levine. The first thing they came across was the wreckage of a Jeep Wrangler. It was on its roof, its right-hand side caved in. Surrounding it were the remnants of food supplies, scattered tranquiliser darts, torches, a few documents and other weaponry and supplies. However, as they moved round behind the wreckage was a sight that shook them all – a downed Carnotaurus. Its neck looked to have snapped and there was a bullet wound in its head. “It’s been shot,” Harding said numbly. She had been crouching over the corpse, inspecting the wound. “Somebody’s shot it.” Levine was silent as he moved around the corpse. This was not how he envisaged seeing a dinosaur for the first time. He anticipated arriving on Isla Sorna and coming across a great herd of sauropods, moving gracefully across open plains, or some Hadrosaurs making their way along an old trail. Perhaps even seeing a pair of large theropods from a distance, tending to their young infant. But not like this. Not finding a dead Carnotaur, killed at the hands of a human. He knelt down and ran his hand over its hide. It was rough and the surface pock-marked. What struck him, however, was how relatively warm the corpse still was. Having expected it to be stone-cold, the temperature came as a shock. “This happened recently,” he said. “Very recently. This animal is still warm.” He stood, making his way over to the jeep. Malcolm was inspecting it. “Any idea what happened here? Who this was?” “I suspect this was the jeep of one Lewis Dodgson,” Malcolm replied. “Here,” he continued as he handed Levine a sheet of paper from the ground, “you might find this interesting.” Levine inspected the paper. Immediately it was apparent what it was. “Shit! This is Dodgson’s jeep all right. You know what this is? The significance of it?” “Looks like some details about InGen, nothing special,” Malcolm replied. The others had since joined them. “Well, yes, that much is true. But these aren’t any old notes on InGen. These are my notes on InGen.” Levine was flustered; he was flapping the page around. “This must have been when Twilight said they broke into my flat! Those absolute... pricks—” Thorne grabbed him. “Richard. Now is not a good time for a meltdown.Come on, man! Yeah, they broke in and copied all your notes and that’s a crying shame but if the jeep is here, so are they. And that means the ponies are here somewhere.” “...R-Right, of course.” Levine composed himself. “So, what now? We can’t just wander around until we find them. There has to be a more logical way...” “I’d like to take a look around before we do anything else,” Harding said, grabbing a rifle from the back of Carr’s SUV. “I guess it makes sense that we keep going up to the compound – I dunno, they might have cameras or something – but I’d feel better knowing we’ve had a look here. There might be some clues that they’ve been here...” Thorne nodded. “That... makes sense. Okay, well let’s split into pairs and just take a quick look around—” “Jack,” Carr interrupted. “Perhaps you and I should stay with the trucks. Y’know, just in case.” Malcolm pointed at Carr. “I like – I like his thinking. We should do that.” “Yeah, I guess we can’t be too careful.” Thorne handed his shotgun to Levine. “Here you are. You, Ian and Sarah go and look around a little – any problems, just come straight back. Oh, hang on-” he quickly went back into the RV, coming back with a handheld radio and handing it to Malcolm “-keep talking on this.” “Right,” Malcolm replied. “Guys, there’s a clearing in the jungle down there,” Harding noted, pointing off to the right of the track. “Could be an idea to check down there.” “Sure,” Levine said. “Lead the way.” The trio made their way into the jungle as Carr turned to Thorne. “How’s the mobile lab driving?” “Yeah, fine. Don’t worry about it, it’s performing. SUV okay?” “Better than okay! As you know I was worried the electric motor might short in the rain – particularly so during the first stint in the jungle – but it’s pulled through, no problem. Yeah, I’m happy.” “Glad to hear it, Ed—” “Doc, you there?” Thorne fumbled for the radio. “Ian, I’m picking you up.” “Okay, so: there are some footprints down here – no, not footprints, ‘hoof-prints’ I suppose. Oh, Sarah’s just found some yellow feathers under some shrubs. Twilight’s friend is a yellow Pegasus. Yeah, it looks like they’ve been here.” “Right. Can you follow the tracks, see where they went?” “Uh... Yes, yeah we can. They lead through the clearing, and up to a jungle trail... At a guess, I’d say the trail runs roughly parallel to the road.” “Excellent news. Finally, progress! Okay, give me a call if you find anything more.” “Will do.” The radio crackled. “So, these ponies... They’re quite important, I understand?” “Yeah,” Thorne said. “One of them is the protégé of Equestria’s princess, and they’re both part of a team over there... Oh, what was it Richard called them... Symbols of Glory, or something? Anyway yeah, they’re super important. So the sooner we find ‘em, the better.” The radio crackled again. “Doc,” came a hushed whisper from Malcolm. “Get back in the trucks, start their engines, and get ready to drive. There’s, uh, there’s a problem.” Thorne spoke into the radio. “Will do. Get back safely.” He quickly turned to Carr. “You heard, Eddie.” With that he ran back towards the RV, making sure to leave the door open, jumped into the driver’s seat, put it in gear, and waited. For what felt like the longest time, nothing happened. Then there was a crack – he recognised the sound of Harding’s tranquiliser rifle – and a roar. The trio emerged from the jungle and sprinted towards the trucks as, behind them, a Carnotaurus lumbered up the hill and broke the tree line. “Oh, shit...” Malcolm and Levine jumped into the RV, slamming the door; Harding had leapt into Carr’s SUV. “Go,” Malcolm said. “Go now.” Thorne floored it. The RV skidded and lurched before pulling forward. Malcolm had wasted no time in activating the smoke deterrent and as the RV accelerated it trailed a thick smoke cloud. Suddenly, the trailer swung to the left with a crash, and the whole unit began to slide. “Fuck!” “Come on Doc, hold it!” Thorne steered into the slide to correct and the RV began to fishtail. He fought the motion, eventually regaining control. Levine had run into the back trailer. “Keep going,” he screeched. “It’s following us!” “Any faster and we’ll barrel off the track and into the jungle,” Thorne shouted back. “This is as fast as we can go along here!” “It’s keeping up with us.” Levine was watching it from the back window. The Carnotaur was beginning to close the gap. The smokescreen hadn’t affected it whatsoever. It lowered its head and charged. Then the RV began to round a corner and the trailer swung slightly; Levine held on. His gaze was planted on the dinosaur behind them which had finally begun to slow down. As they accelerated away, he watched it come to a stop before collapsing – the tranquiliser had taken hold. “We’re good,” he called to Thorne, sighing. “You can stop, it’s asleep.” “Thank God.” He slowed the RV to a stop before jumping up and making his way to the back. “Jesus Christ...” Thorne was taken aback at the mess the rear trailer was in. The armour plating on the RV, though not hugely thick, was incredibly strong. But as he entered the trailer, it became apparent that it wasn’t strong enough. The Carnotaurus had dented the entire right-hand side of the trailer and although it hadn’t broken through, it damaged a lot of the equipment inside. A number of weapons and a good deal of lab equipment had smashed. “We need to clean this up before we go anywhere,” Thorne said. “Shit. Shit shit shit.” He stormed up to the cab and grabbed the radio, calling Carr back. Meanwhile, Malcolm had joined Levine in the trailer. “And there you go,” he said, leaning on a work-surface to steady himself. “What you have just witnessed, Doctor Levine, is the brutality of a pissed-off carnivore, with a penchant to charge at things.” Malcolm wiped his brow. “I thought the Doc promised us this RV would hold.” Visibly shaking, Malcolm poured himself a glass of water and made his way back to the cab as Levine began to clear up the shattered glass and spoiled equipment in silence. “This is bad. This is very, very bad,” Carr said as he stepped inside, followed closely by Harding. “Oh, I knew something would go wrong, but not quite like this—” Thorne seethed. “Enough of your pessimism Eddie, okay?!You don’t need to worry about everything all the time.” “Well clearly, Jack, I do. I mean, are you blind? The trailer is heavily damaged—” “Jesus man! This shit happens. And it’s not because you did a crap job, or because you weren’t worrying enough about it. It just happens! Fuck!” Thorne took some deep breaths. “Look. We’ll drive up to the compound, park up, get the defences going and fix this. Looks like the tools are all still okay.” Harding was quick to jump in. “And what of Flutters? And Twilight?” “Sarah, we aren’t doing shit until this gets repaired. You saw that. That was one animal. One. If we keep searching with a wrecked trailer, we could—” “Don’t say it, Jack,” Malcolm called from the cab. “God damn, you and Eddie, just fix this thing.” “Fine,” Carr said. “Well then, let’s get to this compound.” He exited the RV. With a sigh, Thorne sat down in the driver’s seat. “If you say anything akin to ‘I told you so’ or some other lofty comment, I will punch you, so save it.” “I’ll stay quiet then,” Malcolm said as the convoy moved off once more. Breaking the tension, Thorne spoke. “So how did you guys manage to attract that things attention?” “That’s, uh, a very good question. You see, shortly after I contacted you about the hoof-prints, we took another look around and the animal quite literally materialised in front of us. It just... appeared. We were looking along that jungle trail and it appeared in front of the tree line, at which point it gave chase.” Malcolm felt a chill run down his spine, taking a drink. “Hammond was so sure of his genetics team when we went to Jurassic Park. I remember the leading geneticist – Doctor Wu – insisting that all their animals were female, because they ‘denied them the necessary chromosome to develop into males’, or words to that effect. He was wrong. The animals mutated. Apparently Alan Grant found some raptor eggs on Isla Nublar. As I told Hammond four years ago, life finds a way. Life – lifeforms adapt and evolve in order to make themselves the most successful you can.” “...Not sure what point you’re trying to make,” Thorne grumbled. “I’m just saying that these ‘dinosaurs’ are a real danger – and not just because they want to kill us,” Malcolm began. “Look, dinosaurs became extinct because they couldn’t adapt successfully enough to their outside surroundings. They were at the edge of chaos, and they were tipped off of it because their world changed. Apply that to humanity. We are at the edge of chaos, and the re-introduction of dinosaurs – rather, dinosaur-like monsters – is a change to our world. This can only be a bad thing.” “God damn it, man, will you stop with the chaos theory—” “But it’s true, and I think you all know it,” Malcolm continued briskly. “I mean, look at that Carnotaur. It’s already adapted. The animal was invisible. It’s developed this ability to, say, give them an upper hand when hunting. I don’t know how – I’d assume it’d be to do with InGen’s gene-splicing. Chameleon DNA, perhaps?... Anyway. I digress. My – ah – my point is that they’re large carnivores, apex predators in their own right, but they’ve needed to adapt. Now, I’m no ecosystems expert, but to me, that suggests that there is an even larger, more efficient apex predator on this island. In their own time and their territory – the Cretaceous era – they were the apex predator. In this time, in this territory – the modern world – they are not, and they need this bizarre ability of theirs to survive. And that is a warning, Jack. If a Carnotaur can damage the RV that much, a bigger carnivore could do untold damage.” “I thought I told you not to get on your high horse,” Thorne spat, visibly annoyed. “And how do you know there are any bigger carnivores here? We’ve only seen one species so far. None of us have ever been here before.” “Clearly you – you forget that I have been to Isla Nublar, and clearly you forget that I was attacked by the resident Tyrannosaurus. And I can definitely tell you now that a fully-grown Tyrannosaur will dwarf an adult Carnotaurus in both size and strength.” Thorne said nothing; he focussed on the road. Accepting his silence as a victory, Malcolm reclined in his chair, taking another drink. “It’s easy for me to worry, Jack. I’m, uh... I’m sorry if I aggravate you. But I am an academic – my life’s work revolves around thinking about things. I hope you appreciate my point.” “It’s okay,” Thorne replied. “Let’s just... Let’s all calm down a bit, try and work together a bit more. We’re here to do a job, after all. I don’t think we stand a chance of rescuing the two ponies if we can’t even work together.” “Sure,” Malcolm said. “That makes sense.” “Covering ground fast,” came Carr’s voice from the radio. “We’re about ten clicks out. The sooner we get there, the better.” At that point, Levine returned from the trailer, sitting down at the computer console. “I’ve cleared up as best I could back there, but it looks like it’ll need a lot of work. Fortunately, most of the important, expensive equipment was undamaged, but there’s a few unusable pots and pans.” “Hmm, no biggie then,” Thorne said with a shrug. “Richard, I was just saying to Ian that we need to remember to work together. Yes, that was a lucky escape and it’s easy for emotions to run high, but we can’t let that get in the way. Not now.” “Certainly,” Levine agreed. He checked the GPS readout. “Looks like we’re nearing the compound, and there aren’t any theropods nearby.” “Thank God,” Thorne sighed. “I’ll feel much better once we’re there, the trailer’s had some work, and I’ve had some food.” * * * * Howard King sat on a felled tree near a stream, flicking through a folder of notes. Satisfied that they were mostly intact, he put them in his rucksack and removed a water canteen, taking a quick drink. “So?” Dodgson asked him, returning from filling his own canteen. “Yeah, there’s a few pages missing, but the important ones are all in here.” “Good. You doing okay?” “Feeling better now, yeah...” “George, you okay?” “Glad we’re not back on the trail. I’m still a little amazed we all made it out of there okay.” Baselton was looking around the small jungle clearing. “I’m not complaining about that,” Dodgson agreed. “Okay, guys, look. I think it’s fair to say this mission hasn’t gone smoothly so far, but there’s no reason we can’t keep going. We’ve got all our documents, we’ve got some supplies, we’ve got rucksacks... We can still get some eggs, and then we can find our way to the coast and get out of here. You game?” “It’s not like we can really do much else right now,” King said. “We might as well.” “Fine by me,” Baselton nodded. At that point, Tembo rejoined the trio, his own canteen filled. “Did I hear that the plan is to continue on foot?” “Yeah,” Dodgson said. “How do you feel about that?” “I have limited ammunition,” he replied reluctantly. “To add to that, the sonic equipment we intended on using to distract the bigger predators got wrecked along with the jeep... I’m not saying we shouldn’t press on, but if we do, we should exercise extreme caution.” “Hey, uh – what of the ponies?” King stood. “Not much we can do about them now,” Dodgson said with a shrug. “If we’re lucky, they’ll get eaten. If we’re not, who knows what they’ll do. And at some point, Levine and company might show up with his group. Let’s just keep our heads down, do what we need to do, and get out.” Tembo straightened his hat. “Right. Let’s carry on then, shall we? I’ll take point – keep behind me, and keep quiet.” The foursome readied themselves as Tembo led them into the jungle. They might have lost a good deal of their equipment, but their determination remained – particularly Dodgson’s. He was here to do a job that had been many years in the making and had failed once already when left to Dennis Nedry. Now, it was his turn, and he’d be damned if anything was going to stop him from doing it. * * * * With a great air of urgency Peter Ludlow marched through the heavily dishevelled office complex. His mind was whirring at a million miles per hour; as such he did not allow himself a moment to return the meek ‘good afternoons’ sent his way by the skeleton staff around him, neither did he really drink in the cramped office with its stacks of paperwork and computer systems enveloping the numerous offices and corridors. Yes, today Ludlow was much too busy to take a real look around the pop-up InGen offices, tucked away in San Jose keeping under the radar of the world’s governments. He had far more important matters to tend to – which, as he rounded the corner and confidently swung the door to his meeting room open, became all the more real for him. “Duke Grigorii, Tsar Gavrel – Your Highness. Good morning to you both.” He bowed slightly, outstretching a hand. Tsar Gavrel stood as Grigorii huffed. “Mr Ludlow,” began the Ruler of All Griffons. “We appreciate you making the time for us this morning.” Glaring at Grigorii, he returned the handshake. “The pleasure truly is all mine, gentlemen.” Ludlow sat, producing a briefcase. “I feel that we ought to get straight to business; we’ve talked at great length about many aspects of the proposal before now but I feel that today we might lock down some sort of deal.” The Tsar nodded once, sagely. “This sounds in line with my thoughts, Mr Ludlow.” “Hmm. Excellent.” He quickly examined a few of the documents in the briefcase, mumbling to himself before producing two in particular. “Have a read of these two dossiers when you find the time,” he began. “This one here is a fully-fledged work scheme, outlining what needs to be done, by whom, when, and for how much. Importantly, it also lists work already finished – as I understand it, the portal in your homeworld has been completed?” “You are correct,” Grigorii blurted shortly. “I personally oversaw its construction myself. It is complete.” “Good,” Ludlow continued slowly, somewhat put-off by the incredibly short fuse of the Tsar’s right hand man. “Well, to return to the point, this sits in line with our view of things and means that the portal link could be established at any moment now. As I said to you both some time ago, our portal has been constructed for a few weeks and we’ve now linked it to the geothermal power plant. All we need are co-ordinates, and in theory we could be ready to move species over, well... tomorrow?” Ludlow handed the files over to Tsar Gavrel, himself flicking aggressively through the pages. “But, of course, that’s simple theory-crafting. Like I say, read over the dossier soon. Species movement is covered. Also, I shall need you both to sign at the end of the document—” “You have my word that we shall,” Gavrel interrupted, handing the lengthy document forcefully to his subordinate. “Until then, I want what I came here to see.” “And you shall,” he replied, handing the second document over to the Tsar. “You’ll find that this document outlines our latest, highly clandestine operation. Read this before we arrive at Isla Sorna, for this is the project file for what is absolutely, unquestionably our ‘largest and most vicious’ species.” He furrowed his brow. “I should remind you both that you have signed a Non-Disclosure Act—” “And I should remind you that we are a species of our word,” the Tsar offered. “Mr Ludlow, tell me what species this is.” “Ah. That, I cannot do. You see, it is InGen policy to keep all chatter of this new creation off-shore. To be frank, I’ve told you both too much as it is. All I can say, is this: the document will tell you all you need to know, and that you certainly will not be disappointed.” Gavrel set the folder down. “Until I see it, you will not get any signatures.” “I thought you’d say that.” He paused, as if debating with himself. “To that end, I shall call for our helicopter to be ready now.” He stood, gathering his documents. “We could arrive on the InGen yacht within two hours. Unless, of course, you both wanted to stick to our original schedule and depart in four hours’ time?” “Now suits,” the Tsar replied. “Now suits very much.” With a smile, Ludlow went about his business. “Excellent,” he said as he leant out of the door. “Call the pilot and tell him we’ll be there in twenty minutes. In the meantime, get the car ready, please.” His attention turning back to Griffons, he spoke. “Tsar Gavrel, Duke Grigorii. If you would like to gather your things, there should be a vehicle outside for us. With any luck, a bottle of whisky will be waiting for you both there. If you would follow me,” and he exited the room. Grigorii turned to his King. “I hate him,” he whispered. “He is callous and paper-thin, but he is to be our ally. Be warmer to him for the time being, and remember what he is offering us.” Gavrel gave the top secret dossier to him as he stood. “Remember what you saw on the island’s shoreline, and remember how the monster made you feel.” Grigorii sat, quite taken aback by the Tsar’s astuteness. He was, of course, correct; the afternoon spent looking at the giant carnivore on the coastline of Isla Sorna had excited him to no end. Feeling that electric anticipation once more, he glanced at the document in his claws and did not hesitate to open them. He was breaking convention, but he didn’t care. He didn’t ever care, and he knew that was why Tsar Gavrel had appointed him Duke. He did what he liked, when he liked, as he liked; it just so happened that his ideology was in-line with his King. He cast his eye across the first page, quickly scanning for any names or clues. He had no time and could hear Ludlow calling for him from further down the hall, so quickly he closed the file, tucking it away under his wing and making his way out of the complex and into the black limousine outside. Ludlow showed him in and then boarded himself, and with that the car pulled away. Grigorii found himself being offered a whisky shot from Ludlow which he took with a meek thanks and immediately downed, casting his gaze outside at the endless city streets whizzing by. He could faintly make out the chat between the Tsar and the InGen man, but he wasn’t really listening. He was deep within his own mind, two of the bullet points from the document staying with him. Have I seen these species names somewhere before? The car pressed on, and for the whole journey from InGen office to the heliport, he repeated the words to himself over and over again in the faint hope of jogging a memory, or working out any more details of these creatures. S. maroccanus; 1996. S. aegypticus; 1912.