Andre Weller and Henry Wu entered the control room to discover everyone was seated in darkness, attentively listening to the voices emanating from the radio.
“My gosh, that thing was big and fast!” Twilight commented through the radio.
“—Jesus, if an animal like that gets out,” Gennaro was saying, his voice tinny on the speaker, “there’d be no stopping it.”
“No stopping it, no …”
“Huge, with no natural enemies …”
“My God, think of it …”
Hammond glared at the screen.
“Damn those people. They are so negative.” Hammond said, irritated as he listened closely to the radio chatter.
“They’re still going on about an animal escaping?” Henry asked, incredulous. “I don’t understand. They must have seen by now that we have everything under control. We’ve engineered the animals and engineered the resort.…”
“It’s that Malcolm,” Hammond said darkly. “He’s behind it all. He was against us from the start, you know. He’s got his theory that complex systems can’t be controlled and nature can’t be imitated. I don’t know what his problem is. Hell, we’re just making a zoo here. World’s full of ’em, and they all work fine. But he’s going to prove his theory or die trying. I just hope he doesn’t panic Gennaro into trying to shut the park down.”
Wu shifted his gaze to Hammond. “Can he do that?”
“No,” Hammond replied. “But he can try. He can try and frighten the Japanese investors, and get them to withdraw funds. Or he can make a stink with the San José government. He can make trouble.”
"Can you really blame them for harboring a modicum of apprehension?" Andre inquired, casting a fleeting glance in Hammond's direction. "Reviving living, breathing dinosaurs was an endeavor of considerable magnitude. The mere notion of one of these perilous creatures escaping; Hell, it has the potential to instill paranoia in anyone."
"Oh, please refrain from initiating such discourse, Andre," Hammond retorted, fixing him with a piercing gaze. "I have already had to contend with that conceited little snot, Malcolm. I do not require the added burden of addressing your delusional paranoia."
"I am merely expressing a viewpoint," Andre began, his tone growing defensive. "It is unreasonable to anticipate that everyone will share identical reactions or exhibit the same level of enthusiasm upon encountering a dinosaur, particularly if said dinosaur is a carnivore. Moreover, considering the presence of two tyrannosaurs, velociraptors, and numerous other carnivorous creatures within the park, it is not unfathomable that such circumstances could engender a sense of paranoia in anyone.”
“For god’s sake, Andre,” Hammond sighed. “Just … stop talking, alright?”
Andre rolled his eyes and redirected his gaze back to the screen.
Arnold stubbed out his cigarette. “Let’s wait and see what happens,” he said. “We believe in the park. Let’s see how it plays out.”
“Looks like rain,” Ed Regis said, glancing up at the sky.
Applejack followed Ed Regis’ gaze towards the area that he had indicated. Fluttershy looked up as well upon hearing the distant thunder. They could see the dark clouds slowly coming closer.
“Oh, nelly,” Applejack boasted. “Ah shoulda check the weather before comin’ here; ah could’ve brought a raincoat.”
“Oh my, I hope the animals back in the zoo I study at don’t get too frightened by the storm.” Fluttershy said, frowning at the dark clouds.
Applejack placed her hoof on Fluttershy’s shoulder and smiled.
“Ah’m sure y’all animals will be alright.” Applejack reassured her.
Lex frowned at the floor.
“I hope there’s no lightning…” Lex said under her breath.
The Land Cruisers had come to a halt once again, this time in close proximity to the sauropod swamp. A substantial gathering of apatosaurs could be observed, leisurely grazing at the periphery of the lagoon, delicately consuming the foliage from the uppermost branches of the palm trees. In the same vicinity, a number of duckbilled hadrosaurs could be spotted, although in comparison, they appeared significantly smaller.
Of course, it was not that Tim was unaware that the hadrosaurs were truly diminutive. Rather, it was simply that the apatosaurs were of such immense proportions. Their minuscule heads reached an astonishing height of fifty feet into the sky, gracefully extending from their elongated necks.
“The big animals you see are commonly called Brontosaurus,” the recording said, “but they are actually Apatosaurus. They weigh more than thirty tons. That means a single animal is as big as a whole herd of modern elephants. And you may notice that their preferred area, alongside the lagoon, is not swampy. Despite what the books say, brontosaurs avoid swamps. They prefer dry land.”
"Brontosaurus is the biggest dinosaur, Lex," Ed Regis stated. Tim refrained from contradicting him.
In the presence of the apatosaurs, the smaller hadrosaurs elegantly stood on their hind legs to access the foliage. Despite their immense size, they moved with remarkable grace. Several juvenile hadrosaurs playfully scurried around the adult dinosaurs, feasting on the leaves that cascaded from the mouths of their larger counterparts.
“The dinosaurs of Jurassic Park don’t breed,” the recording said. “The young animals you see were introduced a few months ago, already hatched. But the adults nurture them anyway.”
There emanated the resonant rumble of thunder. The heavens appeared dimmer, closer, and portentous.
"Yeah, it looks like rain, alright," Ed Regis remarked.
Carter cast a disdainful glance.
"Believe me, we are well aware," Carter replied.
The vehicle commenced its forward motion, and Tim glanced back at the hadrosaurs. Abruptly, to his side, he espied a swiftly moving creature of pale yellow hue. Brownish stripes adorned its dorsal region. He promptly identified it.
“Hey!” Tim shouted. “Stop the car!”
“What is it?” Asked Ed Regis.
“Quick! Stop the car!” Tim insisted with a shout.
“We move on now to see the last of our great prehistoric animals, the stegosaurs,” the recorded voice said.
“What’s the matter, Tim?” Carter inquired, looking at Tim over her shoulder.
“I saw one! I saw one in the field out there!” Tim exclaimed.
“Saw what?” Applejack Inquired.
“A raptor! In that field!” Tim responded, gesturing towards the location where he last spotted the creature.
“R-Raptor?” Fluttershy stammered, immediately hiding under her mane.
“The stegosaurs are a mid-Jurassic animal, evolving about a hundred and seventy million years ago,” the recording continued. “Several of these remarkable herbivores live here at Jurassic Park.”
“Oh, I don’t think so, Tim,” Ed Regis interjected. “Not a raptor.”
Tim frantically shook his head. “I did! Stop the car!”
There was a commotion on the intercom, as the news was conveyed to Grant and Malcolm. “Tim says he saw a raptor.”
“Where?” Inquired Grant.
“Back at the field.” Ed Regis responded.
“Let’s go back and look.” Grant suggested.
“We can’t go back,” Ed Regis regretfully explained. “We can only go forward. The cars are programmed.”
“We can’t go back?” Grant questioned.
“No,” confirmed Regis. “Sorry. You see, it’s kind of a ride—”
“Tim, this is Professor Malcolm,” a voice interrupted through the intercom. “I have just one question for you about this raptor. How old would you say it was?”
“Older than the babies we saw today,” Tim responded. “And younger than the big adults in the pen. The adults were six feet tall. This one was about half that size.”
“That’s fine,” Malcolm acknowledged.
“I only saw it for a second,” Tim added.
“I’m sure it wasn’t a raptor,” Ed Regis interjected. “It couldn’t possibly be a raptor. Must have been one of the othys. They’re always jumping their fences. We have a hell of a time with them.”
Carter arched a brow at Ed Regis.
“And you’re positive about that?” Carter asked, folding her arms. Ed Regis nodded.
“Yes,” Ed Regis replied.
“I know I saw a raptor,” Tim insisted.
“I’m hungry,” Lex complained, her voice tinged with a hint of whining.
There was a brief delay as Andre's brain processed the child's words before ultimately silencing him. He gazed into the vast expanse of space, his thoughts conjuring dreadful images of a velociraptor leaping upon him from the foliage and rendering him apart while he remained immobilized and defenseless on the ground. In the midst of his screams as he was devoured alive, he shuddered.
Andre could not fathom a more dreadful demise than being consumed while still alive. He was well aware that there would be no deliverance from an animal attack; claws would sever his tendons, fangs would strip away his flesh, and his bones would be pulverized like chalk between the grinding jaws. The thought of that alone frightened him.
In the control room, Arnold turned to Wu.
“What do you think the kid saw?” Arnold asked.
“I think it must have been an othy.” Wu responded.
Arnold nodded. “We have trouble tracking othys, because they spend so much time in the trees.”
George chimed. “Yeah, computers were constantly losing and picking up the othys, they usually go into the trees and come down again.”
Andre glared at the ground.
“That does not inspire confidence in me.” Said Andre under his breath.
“What burns me,” Hammond stated, “is that we have made this wonderful park, this fantastic park, and our very first visitors are going through it like accountants, just looking for problems. They aren’t experiencing the wonder of it at all.”
“That’s their problem,” Arnold responded. “We can’t make them experience wonder.”
The intercom clicked, and Arnold heard a voice drawl.
“Ah, John, this is Anne B over at the dock. We haven’t finished offloading, but I’m looking at that storm pattern south of us. I’d rather not be tied up here if this chop gets any worse.”
Arnold turned to the monitor showing the cargo vessel, which was moored at the dock on the east side of the island. He pressed the radio button.
“How much left to do, Jim?” Arnold asked.
“Just the three final equipment containers. I haven’t checked the manifest, but I assume you can wait another two weeks for it. We’re not well berthed here, you know, and we are one hundred miles offshore.” Jim responded.
“You requesting permission to leave?” Hammond asked.
“Yes, John.”
“I want that equipment,” Hammond said. “That’s equipment for the labs. We need it.”
“Yes,” Arnold acknowledged. “But you didn’t want to put money into a storm barrier to protect the pier. So we don’t have a good harbor. If the storm gets worse, the ship will be pounded against the dock. I’ve seen ships lost that way. Then you’ve got all the other expenses, replacement of the vessel plus salvage to clear your dock … and you can’t use your dock until you do.…”
Hammond gave a dismissing wave. “Get them out of there.”
“Permission to leave, Anne B,” Arnold said, into the radio.
“See you in two weeks,” Jim said.
On the video monitor, they saw the crew on the decks, casting off the lines. Arnold turned back to the main console bank. He saw the Land Cruisers moving through fields of steam.
“Where are they now?” Hammond said.
“It looks like the south fields,” Arnold said. The southern end of the island had more volcanic activity than the north. “That means they should be almost to the stegos. I’m sure they’ll stop and see what Harding is doing.”
Andre redirected his gaze back to the screen.
Upon the cessation of the Land Cruiser's motion, Twilight Sparkle and Ellie Sattler directed their gaze through the ethereal wisps of steam, fixating upon the stegosaurus. Serenely, it stood, devoid of any movement. Adjacent to the creature, a Jeep adorned with a crimson stripe was stationed.
“I have to admit, that’s a funny-looking animal,” Malcolm remarked.
The stegosaurus measured a length of twenty feet, boasting a substantial and robust physique adorned with vertical armor plates along its dorsal region. Its tail, adorned with menacing three-foot spikes, exuded an air of danger. However, the creature's neck gracefully narrowed, leading to a remarkably diminutive head that possessed a rather foolish expression, reminiscent of a particularly unintelligent equine. As they watched, a man walked around from behind the animal.
“That’s our vet, Dr. Harding,” Regis said, over the radio. “He’s anesthetized the stego, which is why it’s not moving. It’s sick.”
Grant had already disembarked from the vehicle, hastening his steps towards the immobile stegosaur. Twilight and Ellie alighted from the car and glanced behind them, observing the arrival of the second Land Cruiser, from which Twilight's friends, the two children, and the adults promptly emerged.
“Oh my goodness.” Fluttershy said breathlessly.
“What’s he sick with?” Tim asked.
“They’re not sure,” Ellie replied.
The great leathery plates along the stegosaur’s spine drooped slightly. It breathed slowly, laboriously, making a wet sound with each breath.
“Is it contagious?” Lex asked.
They proceeded towards the diminutive head of the creature, where Grant and the veterinarian were positioned on their knees, peering into the stegosaur's oral cavity.
Lex wrinkled her nose. “This thing sure is big,” she said. “And smelly.”
“Yes, it is.” Ellie acknowledged. She had already detected the stegosaur's peculiar scent, reminiscent of decaying fish. It triggered a sense of familiarity within her, yet she struggled to place it precisely. Nevertheless, she had never encountered such an aroma from a stegosaur before. Perhaps it was a distinctive characteristic of this particular species. However, she harbored doubts. Typically, herbivores did not possess a strong scent, nor did their excrement. Such potent odors were typically associated with carnivorous creatures.
“Is that because it’s sick?” Lex asked.
“Maybe,” Twilight replied. “And don’t forget the vet tranquilized it.”
“Poor thing,” Fluttershy expressed with genuine concern.
“Ellie, have a look at this tongue,” Grant requested.
The dark purple tongue dangled listlessly from the animal's mouth. The veterinarian illuminated it with a light, allowing her to observe the exceedingly delicate silvery blisters.
“Microvesicles,” Ellie remarked, her interest piqued. “Interesting.”
“We’ve had a difficult time with these stegos,” the veterinarian disclosed. “They’re always getting sick.”
“What are the symptoms?” Ellie inquired, as she delicately grazed the tongue with her fingernail. A transparent liquid oozed from the ruptured blisters.
“Ugh,” Lex was disgusted.
“Imbalance, disorientation, labored breathing, and massive diarrhea,” Harding said. “Seems to happen about once every six weeks or so.”
“They feed continuously?” Twilight inquired.
“Oh yes,” Harding replied. “Animals this size has to take in a minimum of five or six hundred pounds of plant matter daily just to keep going. They’re constant foragers.”
“Then it’s not likely to be poisoning from a plant,” Ellie stated.
“Exactly,” the veterinarian concurred.
“May I?” Ellie politely requested, as she accepted the flashlight from the veterinarian. She shone the light in the stegosaur’s eye. “Do you have pupillary effects from the tranquilizer?”
“Yes. There’s a miotic effect, pupils are constricted.”
Twilight looked down and stared at the stegosaur’s eyes. She pointed her hoof at the animal’s eyes and turned her gaze towards Harding.
“But these pupils are dilated,” Twilight remarked.
Harding observed the stegosaur's eyes. There was no doubt about it: the pupil remained dilated, unaffected by the presence of light.
“I’ll be damned,” he responded. “That’s a pharmacological effect.”
“Yes,” Ellie replied, regaining her footing and surveying their surroundings. “What is the animal’s range?”
“About five square miles.” He replied.
“In this general area?” Twilight inquired. They found themselves in an open meadow, adorned with scattered rocky formations and occasional wisps of steam emanating from the ground. The late afternoon cast a pink hue beneath the overcast sky.
“Their range is mostly north and east of here,” Harding said. “But when they get sick, they’re usually somewhere around this particular area.”
It was an interesting puzzle, Ellie thought, how to explain the periodicity of the poisoning?
Ellie pointed across the field. “You see those low, delicate-looking bushes?”
“West Indian lilac.” Harding nodded. “We know it’s toxic. The animals don’t eat it.”
“You’re sure?” Twilight probed, raising a brow at Harding.
“Yes. We monitor them on video, and I’ve checked droppings just to be certain. The stegos never eat the lilac bushes.”
“They don’t eat it,” the veterinarian said.
“Interesting,” Ellie remarked. “Because otherwise I would have said that this animal shows all the classic signs of Melia toxicity: stupor, blistering of the mucous membranes, and pupillary dilatation.” She set off toward the field to examine the plants more closely, her body bent over the ground. “You’re right,” she acknowledged. “Plants are healthy, no sign of being eaten. None at all.”
“And there’s the six-week interval,” the veterinarian reminded her.
“The stegosaurs come here how often?” Carter spoke up with a question.
“About once a week,” he responded. “Stegos make a slow loop through their home-range territory, feeding as they go. They complete the loop in about a week.”
“But they’re only sick once every six weeks?” Applejack asked.
“Correct,” Harding affirmed.
“This is boring,” remarked Lex.
“Ssshh,” Tim hissed. “Dr. Sattler’s trying to think.”
Applejack chuckled softly and gently patted Lex’s shoulder.
“Ah’m sure we won’t be here for long.” Applejack assured.
“I hope so.” Carter looked at the far away dark clouds over her shoulder. “Those clouds are getting closer.”
“Unsuccessfully,” Ellie stated, venturing further out into the field.
In the distance, she could hear Lex asking, “Anybody want to play a little pickle?”
Twilight gazed downwards, her eyes fixed upon the ground. The field, in numerous places, was adorned with rocky terrain. The distant sound of the surf reached her ears, originating from somewhere to the left. Amongst the rocks, there were berries scattered about. It crossed her mind that the animals in the vicinity might be feasting on these berries. However, such a notion seemed illogical, for the West Indian lilac berries were known to possess an intensely bitter taste.
“Finding anything?” Grant inquired, coming up to join her.
Ellie let out a weary sigh. “Just rocks,” she responded. “We must be near the beach, because all these rocks are smooth. And they’re in funny little piles.”
“Funny little piles?” Grant echoed, seeking clarification.
“All over. There’s one pile right there.” She pointed.
As soon as she did, she realized what she was looking at. The rocks were worn, but it had nothing to do with the ocean. These rocks were heaped in small piles, almost as if they had been thrown down that way.
They were piles of gizzard stones.
“Gizzard stones,” Grant said.
“I think so, yes. They swallow these stones, and after a few weeks the stones are worn smooth, so they regurgitate them, leaving this little pile, and swallow fresh stones. And when they do, they swallow berries as well. And get sick.”
Twilight glanced up at Grant.
“What are Gizzard stones?” Twilight asked.
“A Gizzard stone is a rock held inside a gastrointestinal tract. Gastroliths in some species are retained in the muscular gizzard and used to grind food in animals lacking suitable grinding teeth.” Ellie explained.
“I’ll be damned,” Grant responded. “I’m sure you’re right.”
He gazed upon the collection of stones, delicately sifting through them with his hand, guided by the intuition of a seasoned paleontologist.
Subsequently, he came to a halt.
“Ellie,” he said. “Take a look at this.”
Bobbie Carter departed from the collective and proceeded towards Gennaro and Malcolm. She observed Gennaro propelling a ball towards Lex, and audibly perceived the resounding impact against the leather. As she approached, she arrived just in time to overhear Malcolm engaging in conversation with Gennaro.
“It has nothing to do with me, I assure you. The concept at hand is chaos theory. However, I have observed that nobody seems inclined to lend an ear to the implications of the mathematics involved,” Malcolm stated. “These implications, I must emphasize, have far-reaching consequences for human existence. Consequences that surpass the magnitude of Heisenberg's principle or Gödel's theorem, which are often discussed at length. Those particular principles, if I may say so, are rather academic and philosophical in nature. Chaos theory, on the other hand, pertains to the intricacies of everyday life.”
“No,” Gennaro said.
“Burn it in there,” Lex yelled.
“Computers were built in the late 1940s because mathematicians like John von Neumann thought that if you had a computer—a machine to handle a lot of variables simultaneously—you would be able to predict the weather. Weather would finally fall to human understanding. And men believed that dream for the next forty years. They believed that prediction was just a function of keeping track of things. If you knew enough, you could predict anything. That’s been a cherished scientific belief since Newton.”
“And?”
“Chaos theory throws it right out the window. It says that you can never predict certain phenomena at all. You can never predict the weather more than a few days away. All the money that has been spent on long-range forecasting—about half a billion dollars in the last few decades—is money wasted. It’s a fool’s errand. It’s as pointless as trying to turn lead into gold. We look back at the alchemists and laugh at what they were trying to do, but future generations will laugh at us the same way. We’ve tried the impossible—and spent a lot of money doing it. Because in fact there are great categories of phenomena that are inherently unpredictable.”
“Chaos says that?” Carter inquired. Malcolm shifted his gaze towards Carter with a smile.
“Yes, and it is astonishing how few people care to hear it,” Malcolm stated. “I gave all this information to Hammond long before he broke ground on this place. You’re going to engineer a bunch of prehistoric animals and set them on an island? Fine. A lovely dream. Charming. But it won’t go as planned. It is inherently unpredictable, just as the weather is.”
“You told him this?” Gennaro inquired.
“Yes. I also told him where the deviations would occur. Obviously the fitness of the animals to the environment was one area. This stegosaur is a hundred million years old. It isn’t adapted to our world. The air is different, the solar radiation is different, the land is different, the insects are different, the sounds are different, the vegetation is different. Everything is different. The oxygen content is decreased. This poor animal’s like a human being at ten thousand feet altitude. Listen to him wheezing.”
Gennaro raised a brow at the mathematician. “And the other areas?”
“Broadly speaking, the ability of the park to control the spread of life-forms. Because the history of evolution is that life escapes all barriers. Life breaks free. Life expands to new territories. Painfully, perhaps even dangerously.” Malcolm shook his head. “I don’t mean to be philosophical, but there it is.”
Carter arched a brow at Malcolm.
“So what are you implying?” Carter inquired, placing her hands on her hips.
“Well, I'm simply saying that life... uh, finds a way.” Malcolm replied.
Carter glanced behind her, observing Ellie, Grant, and Twilight positioned across the field. Grant and Ellie vigorously waved their arms and called out. Carter guided the group towards them and paused to witness Grant clutching a small white fragment in his hand.
“It’s not very impressive,” Gennaro remarked. He held the white fragment, no larger than a postage stamp, up on his fingertip in the fading light. “You sure about this, Alan?”
“Absolutely sure,” Grant affirmed. “What gives it away is the patterning on the interior surface, the interior curve. Turn it over and you will notice a faint pattern of raised lines, making roughly triangular shapes.”
“Yes, I see them.”
“Well, I’ve dug out two eggs with patterns like that at my site in Montana.”
“You’re saying this is a piece of dinosaur eggshell?”
“Absolutely,” Grant replied.
Harding shook his head. “These dinosaurs can’t breed.”
“Evidently they can, Mr. Harding,” Twilight interjected.
“That must be a bird egg,” Harding asserted. “We have literally dozens of species on the island.”
Grant shook his head. “Look at the curvature. The shell is almost flat. That’s from a very big egg. And notice the thickness of the shell. Unless you have ostriches on this island, it’s a dinosaur egg.”
“But they can’t possibly breed,” Harding insisted. “All the animals are female.”
“All I know,” Grant stated, “is that this is a dinosaur egg.”
Malcolm inquired, “Can you tell the species?”
“Yes,” Grant responded. “It’s a velociraptor egg.”
“Absolutely absurd!”
Hammond slammed his cane on the floor as he listened to the report over the radio.
“It must be a bird egg. That’s all it can be.”
The radio crackled. He heard Twilight’s voice. “Why don’t we do a little test? Can you ask Mr. Arnold to run one of his computer tallies.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“No problem,” Arnold said. A moment later, the screen in the control room printed out:
“I hope you’re satisfied,” Hammond said. “Are you receiving it down there on your screen?”
“We see it,” Malcolm said.
“Everything accounted for, as always.” He couldn’t keep the satisfaction out of his voice.
“Now then,” Malcolm said. “Can you have the computer search for a different number of animals?”
“Like what?” Arnold was confused.
“Try two hundred thirty-nine.”
“Just a minute,” Arnold said, frowning. A moment later the screen printed:
Hammond sat forward. “What the hell is that?”
“We picked up another compy.”
“From where?”
“I don’t know!”
The radio crackled. “Now, then: can you ask the computer to search for, let us say, three hundred animals?”
“What is he talking about?” Hammond demanded, his voice rising. “Three hundred animals? What’s he talking about?”
“Just a minute,” Arnold said. “That’ll take a few minutes.”
He punched buttons on the screen. The first line of the totals appeared:
239
“I don’t understand what he’s driving at,” Hammond said.
“I’m afraid I do,” Arnold said. He watched the screen. The numbers on the first line were clicking:
244
“God,” George said breathlessly.
“Two hundred forty-four?” Hammond repeated. “What’s going on?”
“The computer is counting the animals in the park,” Wu said. “All the animals.”
“I thought that’s what it always did.” He spun. “Nedry! Have you screwed up again?”
“No,” Nedry said, looking up from his console. “Computer allows the operator to enter an expected number of animals, in order to make the counting process faster. But it’s a convenience, not a flaw.”
“He’s right,” Arnold said. “We just always used the base count of two hundred thirty-eight because we assumed there couldn’t be more.”
262
“Wait a minute,” Hammond said. “These animals can’t breed. The computer must be counting field mice or something.”
“I think so, too,” Arnold said. “It’s almost certainly an error in the visual tracking. But we’ll know soon enough.”
Hammond turned to Wu. “They can’t breed, can they?”
“No,” Wu replied.
Total Animals - 270
“Where are they coming from?” Arnold asked.
“Damned if I know,” Wu replied.
They watched the numbers ascending a bit higher.
283
Over the radio, they heard Gennaro curse, “Holy shit, how much more?”
“Language! There’s kids here!” Applejack shouted over the radio.
And they heard the girl whining. “I’m getting hungry. When are we going home?”
“Pretty soon, Lex.” Ed Regis replied from the com.
On the screen, there was a flashing error message:
ERROR: Search Params: 300 Animals Not Found
“An error,” Hammond said, nodding. “I thought so. I had the feeling all along there must be an error.”
But a moment later the screen printed:
The radio crackled.
“Now you see the flaw in your procedures,” Malcolm stated. “You only tracked the expected number of dinosaurs. You were worried about losing animals, and your procedures were designed to advise you instantly if you had less than the expected number. But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was, you had more than the expected number.”
“Christ,” Arnold exclaimed.
“There can’t be more,” Wu asserted. “We know how many we’ve released. There can’t be more than that.”
“And yet their increasing numbers said otherwise, doc,” Andre interjected.
“Indeed,” Malcolm concurred. “They’re breeding.”
“No.” Hammond refused to believe it.
“Mr. Hammond, please understand, even if you don’t accept Grant’s eggshell, you can prove it with your own data. Take a look at the compy height graph. Arnold will put it up for you.” Twilight said.
A white graph popped up on screen, showcasing recent numbers of the promcomsognathids population. Everyone in the control room gazed up at the screen.
“Notice anything about it?” Malcolm inquired.
“It’s a Gaussian distribution,” Wu responded. “Normal curve.”
“If I recall correctly, you mentioned that the compys were introduced in three distinct groups, with six-month intervals,” Twilight interjected.
“Yes, that is correct…” Wu replied, not sure where she was going with this.
“In that case, one would expect to observe distinct peaks on the graph, corresponding to each of the three separate batches that were introduced,” Malcolm explained, tapping the keyboard. “Allow me to demonstrate.”
Another white graph popped up on screen. Revealing three high percentages of the animal population. Andre felt sweat running down his forehead.
“You didn’t get this graph,” Malcolm said. “The graph you actually got is a graph of a breeding population. Your compys are breeding.”
Wu shook his head. “I don’t see how.”
“They’re breeding, and so are the othnielia, the maiasaurs, the hypsys—and the velociraptors.” Twilight explained.
“Christ,” Muldoon said. “There are raptors free in the park.”
“Well, it’s not that bad,” Hammond said, looking at the screen. “We have increases in just three categories—well, five categories. Very small increases in two of them …”
“What are you talking about?!” Andre shouted, rounding at the elder. “Don’t you know what this means?”
“Of course I know what this means, Andre,” Hammond said. “It means Henry screwed up.”
“Absolutely not.” Said Wu, glaring at Hammond.
“You’ve got breeding dinosaurs out there, Doctor Wu.” Twilight said over the radio.
“But they’re all female,” Wu said. “It’s impossible. There must be a mistake. And look at the numbers. A small increase in the big animals, the maiasaurs and the hypsys. And big increases in the number of small animals. It just doesn’t make sense. It must be a mistake.”
The radio clicked.
“Actually not,” Grant said. “I think these numbers confirm that breeding is taking place. In seven different sites around the island.”
The sky was becoming darker, and in the distance, the sound of thunder could be heard. Twilight and the others leaned against the doors of the Jeep, their attention fixed on the screen displayed on the dashboard.
“Breeding sites?” Wu inquired, over the radio.
“Nests,” Grant replied. “Assuming the average clutch is eight to twelve hatching eggs, these data would indicate the compys have two nests. The raptors have two nests. The othys have one nest. And the hypsys and the maias have one nest each.”
“Where are these nests?”
“We’ll have to find them,” Twilight stated. “Dinosaurs build their nests in secluded places.”
“But why are there so few big animals?” Wu pondered. “If there is a maia nest of eight to twelve eggs, there should be eight to twelve new maias. Not just one.”
“That’s right,” Grant concurred. “Except that the raptors and the compys that are loose in the park are probably eating the eggs of the bigger animals—and perhaps eating the newly hatched young, as well.”
“But we’ve never seen that,” Arnold said, over the radio.
“Raptors are nocturnal,” he responded. “Is anyone watching the park at night?”
A prolonged silence ensued, indicating the absence of such surveillance.
“I didn’t think so,” Grant acknowledged.
“It still doesn’t make sense,” Wu interjected. “You can’t support fifty additional animals on a couple of nests of eggs.”
“No,” Grant replied. “I assume they are eating something else as well. Perhaps small rodents. Mice and rats?”
Another silence ensued.
“Let me guess,” Grant proposed. “When you first came to the island, you had a problem with rats. But as time passed, the problem faded away.”
“Yes. That’s true.…”
“And you never thought to investigate why?”
“Well, we just assumed…” Arnold trailed off.
“Are you joking?” Carter interjected, her tone rising a bit. “There was a rat problem on this island. You guys have like, what, two wardens? And yet not a single one of you thought to investigate the entire park? You just assumed it would fade away on its own?! That is foolish thinking, even from you people!”
Applejack nodded in agreement.
“When a small part of the forest is on fire, y’all don’t just turn a blind’ eye and walk along; you put out the fire before it spreads. If y’all don’t, the entire forest will be set ablaze, until there’s nothin’ left but ash.” Applejack said, narrowing her eyes on the radio.
“Look,” Wu interjected, “the fact remains, all the animals are female. They can’t breed.”
Grant had been thinking about that. He had recently learned of an intriguing West German study that he suspected held the answer.
“When you made your dinosaur DNA,” Grant questioned, “you were working with fragmentary pieces, is that right?”
“Yes,” Wu replied.
Twilight chimed. “In order to make a complete strand, were you ever required to include DNA fragments from other species?”
“Occasionally, yes,” Wu responded. “It’s the only way to accomplish the job. Sometimes we included avian DNA, from a variety of birds, and sometimes reptilian DNA.”
“Any amphibian DNA? Specifically, frog DNA?” Twilight probed.
“Possibly. I’d have to check.”
“Check,” Grant said. “I think you’ll find that holds the answer.”
Malcolm echoed, “Frog DNA? Why frog DNA?”
Gennaro interjected impatiently, “Listen, this is all very intriguing, but we’re forgetting the main question: have any animals gotten off the island?”
Grant gestured to the screen. “We can’t tell from these data.”
“Then how are we going to find out?” Carter asked, placing her hands on her hips.
“There’s only one way I know,” Grant said. “We’ll have to find the individual dinosaur nests, inspect them, and count the remaining egg fragments. From that we may be able to determine how many animals were originally hatched. And we can begin to assess whether any are missing.”
“Even so, you won’t know if the missing animals are killed, or dead from natural causes, or whether they have left the island.” Malcolm said.
“No,” Grant said, “but it’s a start. And I think we can get more information from an intensive look at the population graphs.”
“How are we going to find these nests?” Twilight asked.
“Actually,” Grant said, “I think the computer will be able to help us with that.”
“Can we go back now?” Lex whined. “I’m hungry.”
“Yes, let’s go,” Grant said, smiling at her. “You’ve been very patient.”
“You’ll be able to eat in about twenty minutes,” Ed Regis assured, starting toward the two Land Cruisers.
“I’ll stay for a while,” Ellie said, “and get photos of the stego with Dr. Harding’s camera. Those vesicles in the mouth will have cleared up by tomorrow.”
“I want to get back,” said Grant. “I’ll go with the kids.”
“I will, too,” added Malcolm.
“I think I’ll stay,” said Gennaro, “and go back with Harding in his Jeep, with Dr. Sattler.”
“Fine, let’s go.” Grant rolled his eyes.
Twilight was about to follow behind Grant and Malcolm, until she saw Fluttershy rooted next to Sattler. She could clearly see a bit of paranoia in her countenance. She only ever made that face whenever she was both scared and worried.
Twilight approached Fluttershy with a smile.
“Fluttershy, why don’t you stay with Doctor Sattler,” Twilight said, looking between her friend and Ellie. “Keep her company while we’re gone.”
Fluttershy perked up and shifted her gaze towards Twilight.
“Oh, um, are you sure?” Fluttershy asked. Applejack stepped up beside Twilight.
“Yup, y’all go on ahead. We’ll catch up once the tour is over.” Applejack interjected, beaming at the pegasus with a wink. The trio embraced with a hug and departed, walking back towards the vessels.
Grant glanced down at Twilight.
“Your friend okay?” Grant asked with a raised brow. Twilight nodded.
“Yeah, she’s just on edge,” Twilight replied.
Malcolm glanced at Grant.
“Why exactly is our lawyer staying?” Malcolm asked.
Grant shrugged. “I think it might have something to do with Dr. Sattler.”
“Really? The shorts, you think?”
“It’s happened before,” Grant said.
Once they came to the Land Cruisers, Tim raised his hand.
“I want to ride in the front one this time, with Dr. Grant.” Announced Tim, beaming at Grant and Malcolm.
Malcolm turned to face Tim.
“Unfortunately, Dr. Grant and I need to talk.” Malcolm said, gesturing his hand to the latter beside him.
“I’ll just sit and listen. I won’t say anything,” Tim insisted.
“It’s a private conversation,” Malcolm said.
“Tell you what, Tim,” Ed Regis said. “Let them sit in the rear car by themselves. We’ll sit in the front car, and you can use the night-vision goggles. Have you ever used night-vision goggles, Tim? They’re goggles with very sensitive CCDs that allow you to see in the dark.”
“Neat,” he said, and moved toward the first car.
“Hey!” Lex called. “I want to use it, too.”
“No,” Tim said.
“No fair! No fair! You get to do everything, Timmy!”
Applejack stepped between the two to defuse the growing sibling fight. Carter chuckled out of amusement at the scene before her. Ed Regis watched Grant and Malcolm go in the vehicle and shook his head.
“I can see what the ride back is going to be like.” He said under his breath.
Grant and Malcolm climbed into the second car. A few raindrops spattered the windshield.
“Let’s get going,” Ed Regis said. “I’m about ready for dinner. And I could do with a nice banana daiquiri. What do you say, folks? Daiquiri sounds good?” He pounded the metal panel of the car. “See you back at camp,” he said, and he started running toward the first car, and climbed aboard.
A red light on the dashboard blinked. With a soft electric whirr, the Land Cruisers started off.
Driving back in the fading light, Malcolm seemed oddly subdued. Which prompted Grant to raise a brow at him. Twilight distracted herself by scribbling her new page in the notebook.
“You must feel vindicated. About your theory.” Grant spoke up. Malcolm glanced at Grant.
“As a matter of fact, I’m feeling a bit of dread. I suspect we are at a very dangerous point.”
“Why?”
“Intuition.”
“Do mathematicians believe in intuition?”
“Absolutely. Very important, intuition. Actually, I was thinking of fractals,” Malcolm said. “You know about fractals?”
Grant shook his head. “Not really, no.”
“Fractals are a kind of geometry, associated with a man named Mandelbrot. Unlike ordinary Euclidean geometry that everybody learns in school—squares and cubes and spheres—fractal geometry appears to describe real objects in the natural world. Mountains and clouds are fractal shapes. So fractals are probably related to reality. Somehow.”
“Well, Mandelbrot found a remarkable thing with his geometric tools. He found that things looked almost identical at different scales.”
“At different scales?” Grant inquired.
“For example,” Malcolm said, “a big mountain, seen from far away, has a certain rugged mountain shape. If you get closer, and examine a small peak of the big mountain, it will have the same mountain shape. In fact, you can go all the way down the scale to a tiny speck of rock, seen under a microscope—it will have the same basic fractal shape as the big mountain.”
“I don’t really see why this is worrying you,” Grant said.
Twilight yawned. She smelled the sulfur fumes of the volcanic steam. They were coming now to the section of road that ran near the coastline, overlooking the beach and the ocean.
“It’s a way of looking at things,” Malcolm said. “Mandelbrot found a sameness from the smallest to the largest. And this sameness of scale also occurs for events.”
“Events?” Twilight repeated, shifting her gaze from her notebook to Malcolm.
“Consider cotton prices,” Malcolm said. “There are good records of cotton prices going back more than a hundred years. When you study fluctuations in cotton prices, you find that the graph of price fluctuations in the course of a day looks basically like the graph for a week, which looks basically like the graph for a year, or for ten years. And that’s how things are. A day is like a whole life. You start out doing one thing, but end up doing something else, plan to run an errand, but never get there.… And at the end of your life, your whole existence has that same haphazard quality, too. Your whole life has the same shape as a single day.”
“I guess it’s one way to look at things,” Grant said.
“No,” Malcolm said. “It’s the only way to look at things. At least, the only way that is true to reality. You see, the fractal idea of sameness carries within it an aspect of recursion, a kind of doubling back on itself, which means that events are unpredictable. That they can change suddenly, and without warning.”
“Okay…” Grant wasn’t sure where this was going.
“But we have soothed ourselves into imagining sudden change as something that happens outside the normal order of things. An accident, like a car crash. Or beyond our control, like a fatal illness. We do not conceive of sudden, radical, irrational change as built into the very fabric of existence. Yet it is. And chaos theory teaches us,” Malcolm said, “that straight linearity, which we have come to take for granted in everything from physics to fiction, simply does not exist.”
Twilight nodded as she hummed in understanding. “I think I’m following you, Doctor Malcolm - so linearity is an artificial way of viewing the world. Real life isn’t a series of interconnected events occurring one after another like beads strung on a necklace. Life is a series of encounters in which one event may change those that follow in a wholly unpredictable, devastating way?”
“Bingo,” Malcolm replied, giving the lavender mare a thumbs up. Malcolm sat back in his seat, looking toward the other Land Cruiser, a few yards ahead. “That’s a deep truth about the structure of our universe. But, for some reason, we insist on behaving as if it were not true.”
At that moment, the cars jolted to a stop.
“What’s happened?” Grant said.
Up ahead, they saw the kids in the car, pointing toward the ocean. Offshore, beneath lowering clouds, Grant saw the dark outline of the supply boat making its way back toward Puntarenas.
“Why have we stopped?” Twilight asked, looking between Grant and Malcolm.
“Not sure,” Malcolm replied.
Grant turned on the radio and heard the girl saying excitedly, “Look there, Timmy! You see it, it’s there!”
Malcolm squinted at the boat. “They talking about the boat?”
“Apparently.” Grant replied.
Ed Regis climbed out of the front car and came running back to their window.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but the kids are all worked up. Do you have binoculars here?”
“For what?” Twilight inquired.
“The little girl says she sees something on the boat. Some kind of animal,” Regis said.
Grant grabbed the binoculars and rested his elbows on the window ledge of the Land Cruiser. He scanned the long shape of the supply ship. It was so dark it was almost a silhouette; as he watched, the ship’s running lights came on, brilliant in the dark purple twilight.
“Do you see anything?” Regis asked.
“No,” Grant replied.
“They’re low down,” Lex said, over the radio. “Look low down.”
Grant tilted the binoculars down, scanning the hull just above the waterline. The supply ship was broad-beamed, with a splash flange that ran the length of the ship. But it was quite dark now, and he could hardly make out details.
“No, nothing …”
“I can see them,” Lex said impatiently. “Near the back. Look near the back!”
“How can she see anything in this light?” Malcolm asked.
“Kids can see,” Grant replied. “They’ve got visual acuity we forgot we ever had.”
He swung the binoculars toward the stern, moving them slowly, and suddenly he saw the animals. They were playing, darting among the silhouetted stern structures. He could see them only briefly, but even in the fading light he could tell that they were upright animals, about two feet tall, standing with stiff balancing tails.
“You see them now?” Twilight asked.
“I see them,” he replied.
“What are they?” Carter asked over the radio.
“They’re raptors,” Grant confirmed. “At least two. Maybe more. Juveniles.”
“Jesus,” Ed Regis said. “That boat’s going to the mainland.”
Malcolm shrugged. “Don’t get excited. Just call the control room and tell them to recall the boat.”
Ed Regis reached in and grabbed the radio from the dashboard. They heard hissing static, and clicks as he rapidly changed channels.
“There’s something wrong with this one,” he said. “It’s not working.”
He ran off to the first Land Cruiser. They saw him duck into it. Then he looked back at them.
“There’s something wrong with both the radios,” he said. “I can’t raise the control room.”
“Then let’s get going,” Grant said.
Along the side of the road, clouds of volcanic steam misted rainbows in the bright quartz lights. Worry washed over Twilight’s face. She was getting a sickening feeling, and she didn’t know why.
“How long does it take the ship to reach the mainland?” Twilight asked into the radio.
“Eighteen hours,” Ed Regis replied. “More or less. It’s pretty reliable.” He glanced at his watch. “It should arrive around eleven tomorrow morning.”
Grant frowned. “You still can’t talk to the control room?”
“Not so far.”
“How about Harding? Can you reach him?” Carter inquired over the radio.
“No, I’ve tried. He may have his radio turned off.” He replied.
Malcolm was shaking his head. “So we’re the only ones who know about the animals on the ship.”
“I’m trying to raise somebody,” Ed Regis said. “I mean, Christ, we don’t want those animals on the mainland.”
“How long until we get back to the base?” Twilight asked, looking out the dark forest behind the window.
“From here, another sixteen, seventeen minutes,” Ed Regis replied.
“At night, the whole road was illuminated by big floodlights. It felt to Grant as if they were driving through a bright green tunnel of leaves. Large raindrops spattered the windshield.
Grant felt the Land Cruiser slow, then stopped. “Now what?”
Lex said, “I don’t want to stop. Why did we stop?”
All the floodlights suddenly went out. The road was plunged into darkness.
“Hey!” Lex cried.
“It’s alright, Lex. Stay calm,” Applejack reassured the girl. “It’s just the lights.”
“Probably just a power outage or something,” Ed Regis said. “I’m sure the lights will be on in a minute.”
“…I don’t like this. Something isn’t right.” Twilight heard Carter say over the radio.
“I’m sure they’ll get the lights back on.” Ed Regis reassured her. Carter was not convinced.
Unbeknownst to the group, a large predator, hidden within the trees, was watching them.