“That’s just a fancy label for my report,” Grant said. ” ‘Hyperspace’ is a term for multidimensional space-like three-dimensional tic-tac-toe. I you were to take all the behaviors of an animal, its eating and movement and sleeping, you could plot the animal within the multidimensional space. Some paleontologists refer to the behavior of an animal as occurring in an ecological hyperspace. ‘Juvenile hyperspace’ would just refer to the behavior of juvenile dinosaurs-if you wanted to be as pretentious as possible.”
At the far end of the trailer, the phone rang. Ellie answered it. She said, “He’s in a meeting right now. Can he call you back?”
Morris snapped his briefcase shut and stood. “Thanks for your help and the beer,” he said.
“No problem,” Grant said.
Grant walked with Morris down the trailer to the door at the far end. Morris said, “Did Hammond ever ask for any physical materials from your site? Bones, or eggs, or anything like that?”
“No,” Grant said.
“Dr. Sattler mentioned you do some genetic work here. . . .”
“Well, not exactly,” Grant said. “When we remove fossils that are broken or for some other reason not suitable for museum preservation, we send the bones out to a lab that grinds them up and tries to extract proteins for us, The proteins are then identified and the report is sent back to us.”
“Which lab is that?” Morris asked.
“Medical Biologic Services in Salt Lake.”
“How’d you choose them?”
“Competitive bids.”
“The lab has nothing to do with InGen?” Morris asked.
“Not that I know,” Grant said.
They came to the door of the trailer. Grant opened it, and felt the rush of hot air from outside. Morris paused to put on his sunglasses.
“One last thing,” Morris said. “Suppose InGen wasn’t really making a museum exhibit. Is there anything else they could have done with the information in the report you gave them?”
Grant laughed. “Sure. They could feed a baby hadrosaur.”
Morris laughed, too. “A baby hadrosaur. That’d be something to see. How big were they?”
“About so,” Grant said, holding his hands six inches apart. “Squirrelsize.”
“And how long before they become full-grown?”
“Three years,” Grant said. “Give or take.”
Morris held out his band. “Well, thanks again for your help.”
“Take it easy driving back,” Grant said. He watched for a moment as Morris walked back toward his car, and then closed the trailer door.
Grant said, “What did you think?”
Ellie shrugged. “Naïve.”
“You like the part where John Hammond is the evil arch-villain?” Grant laughed. “John Hammond’s about as sinister as Walt Disney. By the way, who called?”
“Oh,” Ellie said, “it was a woman named Alice Levin. She works at Columbia Medical Center. You know her?”
Grant shook his head. “No.”
“Well, it was something about identifying some remains. She wants you to call her back right away.”
Skeleton
Ellie Sattler brushed a strand of blond hair back from her face and turned her attention to the acid baths. She had six in a row, at molar strengths from 5 to 30 percent. She ‘had to keep an eye on the stronger solutions, because they would eat through the limestone and begin to erode the bones. And infant-dinosaur bones were so fragile, She marveled that they had been preserved at all, after eighty million years.
She listened idly as Grant said, “Miss Levin? This is Alan Grant. What’s this about a . . . You have what? A what?” He began to laugh. “Oh, I doubt that very much, Miss Levin. . . . No, I really don’t have time, I’m sorry . . . . Well, I’d take a look at it, but I can pretty much guarantee it’s a basilisk lizard. But . . . yes, you can do that. All right. Send it now.” Grant hung up, and shook his head. “These people.”
Ellie said, “What’s it about?”
“Some lizard she’s trying to identify,” Grant said. “She’s going to fax me an X-ray.” He walked over to the fax and waited as the transmission came through. “Incidentally, I’ve got a new find for you. A good one.”
“Yes?”
Grant nodded. “Found it just before the kid showed up. On South Hill, horizon four. Infant velociraptor: jaw and complete dentition, so there’s no question about identity. And the site looks undisturbed. We might even get a full skeleton.”
“That’s fantastic,” Ellie said. “How young?”
“Young,” Grant said. “Two, maybe four months at most.”
“And it’s definitely a velociraptor?”
“Definitely,” Grant said. “Maybe our luck has finally turned.”
For the last two years at Snakewater, the team had excavated only duckbilled hadrosaurs. They already had evidence for vast herds of these grazing dinosaurs, roaming the Cretaceous plains in groups of ten or twenty thousand, as buffalo would later roam.
But increasingly the question that faced them was: where were the predators?
They expected predators to be rare, of course. Studies of predator/prey populations in the game parks of Africa and India suggested that, roughly speaking, there was one predatory carnivore for every four hundred herbivores. That meant a herd of ten thousand duckbills would support only twenty-five tyrannosaurs. So it was unlikely that they would find the remains of a large predator.
But where were the smaller predators? Snakewater had dozens of nesting sites-in some places, the ground was literally covered with fragments of dinosaur eggshells-and many small dinosaurs ate eggs. Animals like Dromaeosaurus, Oviraptor, Velociraptor, and Coelurus-predators three to six feet tall-must have been found here in abundance.
But they had discovered none so far.
Perhaps this velociraptor skeleton did mean their luck had changed. And an infant! Ellie knew that one of Grant’s dreams was to study infant-rearing behavior in carnivorous dinosaurs, as he had already studied the behavior of herbivores. Perhaps this was the first step toward that dream. “You must be pretty excited,” Ellie said.
Grant didn’t answer.
“I said, you must be excited,” Ellie repeated.
“My God,” Grant said. He was staring at the fax.
Ellie looked over Grant’s shoulder at the X-ray, and breathed out slowly. “You think it’s an amassicus?”
“Yes,” Grant said. “Or a triassicus. The skeleton is so light.”
“But it’s no lizard,” she said.
“No,” Grant said. “This is not a lizard. No three-toed lizard has walked on this planet for two hundred million years.”
Ellie’s first thought was that she was looking at a hoax-an ingenious, skillful hoax, but a hoax nonetheless. Every biologist knew that the threat of a hoax was omnipresent. The most famous hoax, the Piltdown man, had gone undetected for forty years, and its perpetrator was still unknown. More recently, the distinguished astronomer Fred Hoyle had claimed that a fossil winged dinosaur, Archaeopteryx, on display in the British Museum, was a fraud. (It was later shown to be genuine.)
The essence of a successful hoax was that it presented scientists with what they expected to see. And, to Ellie’s eye, the X-ray image of the lizard was exactly correct. The three-toed foot was well balanced, with the medial claw smallest. The bony remnants of the fourth and fifth toes were located up near the metatarsal joint. The tibia was strong, and considerably longer than the femur. At the hip, the acetabulum was complete. The tail showed forty-five vertebrae. It was a Procompsognathus.
“Could this X-ray be faked?”
“I don’t know,” Grant said. “But it’s almost impossible to fake an X-ray. And Procompsognathus is an obscure animal. Even people familiar with dinosaurs have never heard of it.”
Ellie read the note. “Specimen acquired on the beach of Cabo Blanco, July 16. . . . Apparently a howler monkey was eating the animal, and this was all that was recovered. Oh . . . and it says the lizard attacked a little girl.”
“I doubt that,” Grant said. “But perhaps. Procompsognathus was so small and light we assume it must be a scavenger, only feeding off dead creatures. And you can tell the size”-he measured quickly-“it’s about twenty centimeters to the hips, which means the full animal would be about a foot tall. About as big as a chicken. Even a child would look pretty fearsome to it. It might bite an infant, but not a child.”
Ellie frowned at the X-ray image. “You think this could really be a legitimate rediscovery?” she said. “Like the coelacanth?”
“Maybe,” Grant said. The coelacanth was a five-foot-long fish thought to have died out sixty-five million years ago, until a specimen was pulled from the ocean in 1938. But there were other examples. The Australian mountain pygmy possum was known only from fossils until a live one was found in a garbage can in Melbourne. And a ten-thousand-year-old fossil fruit bat from New Guinea was described by a zoologist who not long afterward received a living specimen in the mail.
“But could it be real?” she persisted. “What about the age?”
Grant nodded. “The age is a problem.”
Most rediscovered animals were rather recent additions to the fossil record: ten or twenty thousand years old. Some were a few million years old- in the case of the coelacanth, sixty-five million years old. But the specimen they were looking at was much, much older than that. Dinosaurs had died out in the Cretaceous period, sixty-five million years ago. They had flourished as the dominant life form on the planet in the Jurassic, 190 million years ago. And they had first appeared in the Triassic, roughly 220 million years ago.
It was during the early Triassic period that Procompsognathus had lived-a time so distant that our planet didn’t even look the same. All the continents were joined together in a single landmass, called Pangaca, which extended from the North to the South Pole-a vast continent of ferns and forests, with a few large deserts. The Atlantic Ocean was a narrow lake between what would become Africa and Florida. The air was denser. The land was warmer. There were hundreds of active volcanoes. And it was in this environment that Procompsognathus lived.
“Well,” Ellie said. “We know animals have survived. Crocodiles are basically Triassic animals living in the present. Sharks are Triassic. So we know it has happened before.”
Grant nodded. “And the thing is,” he said, “how else do we explain it? It’s either a fake-which I doubt-or else it’s a rediscovery. What else could it be?”
The phone rang. “Alice Levin again,” Grant said. “Let’s see if she’ll send us the actual specimen.” He answered it and looked at Ellie, surprised. “Yes, I’ll hold for Mr. Hammond. Yes. Of course.”
“Hammond? What does he want?” Ellie said.
Grant shook his head, and then said into the phone, “Yes, Mr. Hammond. Yes, it’s good to hear your voice, too. . . .Yes . . . .” He looked at Ellie. “Oh, you did? Oh yes? Is that right?”
He cupped his hand over the mouthpiece and said, “Still as eccentric as ever. You’ve got to hear this.”
Grant pushed the speaker button, and Ellie heard a raspy old-man’s voice speaking rapidly: “-hell of an annoyance from some EPA fellow, seems to have gone off half cocked, all on his own, running around the country talking to people, stirring up things. I don’t suppose anybody’s come to see you way out there?”
“As a matter of fact,” Grant said, “somebody did come to see me.”
Hammond snorted. “I was afraid of that. Smart-ass kid named Morris?”
“Yes, his name was Morris,” Grant said.
“He’s going to see all our consultants,” Hammond said. “He went to see Ian Malcolm the other day-you know, the mathematician in Texas? That’s the first I knew of it. We’re having one hell of a time getting a handle on this thing, it’s typical of the way government operates, there isn’t any complaint, there isn’t any charge, just harassment from some kid who’s unsupervised and is running around at the taxpayers’ expense. Did he bother you? Disrupt your work?”
“No, no, he didn’t bother me.”
“Well, that’s too bad, in a way,” Hammond said, “because I’d try and get an injunction to stop him if he had. As it is, I had our lawyers call over at EPA to find out what the hell their problem is. The head of the office claims he didn’t know there was any investigation! You figure that one out. Damned bureaucracy is all it is. Hell, I think this kid’s trying to get down to Costa Rica, poke around, get onto our island. You know we have an island down there?”
“No,” Grant said, looking at Ellie, “I didn’t know.”
“Oh yes, we bought it and started our operation oh, four or five years ago now. I forget exactly. Called Isla Nublar-big island, hundred miles offshore. Going to be a biological preserve. Wonderful place. Tropical jungle. You know, you ought to see it, Dr. Grant.”
“Sounds interesting,” Grant said, “but actually-”
“It’s almost finished now, you know,” Hammond said. “I’ve sent you some material about it. Did you get my material?”
“No, but we’re pretty far from-”
“Maybe it’ll come today. Look it over. The island’s just beautiful. It’s got everything. We’ve been in construction now thirty months. You can imagine. Big park. Opens in September next year. You really ought to go see it.
“It sounds wonderful, but-”
“As a matter of fact,” Hammond said, “I’m going to insist you see it, Dr. Grant. I know you’d find it right up your alley. You’d find it fascinating.”
“I’m in the middle of-” Grant said.
“Say, I’ll tell you what,” Hammond said, as if the idea had just occurred to him. “I’m having some of the people who consulted for us go down there this weekend. Spend a few days and look it over. At our expense, of course. It’d be terrific if you’d give us your opinion.”
“I couldn’t possibly,” Grant said.
“Oh, just for a weekend,” Hammond said, with the irritating, cheery persistence of an old man. “That’s all I’m talking about, Dr. Grant. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your work. I know how important that work is. Believe me, I know that. Never interrupt your work. But you could hop on down there this weekend, and be back on Monday.”
“No, I couldn’t,” Grant said. “I’ve just found a new skeleton and-”
“Yes, fine, but I still think you should come-” Hammond said, not really listening.
“And we’ve just received some evidence for a very puzzling and remarkable find, which seems to be a living procompsognathid.”
“A what?” Hammond said, slowing down. “I didn’t quite get that. You said a living procompsognathid?”
“That’s right,” Grant said. “It’s a biological specimen, a partial fragment of an animal collected from Central America. A living animal.”
“You don’t say,” Hammond said. “A living animal? How extraordinary.”
“Yes,” Grant said. “We think so, too. So, you see, this isn’t the time for me to be leaving-”
“Central America, did you say?”
“Yes.”
“Where in Central America is it from, do you know?”
“A beach called Cabo Blanco, I don’t know exactly where-”
“I see.” Hammond cleared his throat, “And when did this, ah, specimen arrive in your hands?”
“Just today.”
“Today, I see. Today. I see. Yes.” Hammond cleared his throat again.
Grant looked at Ellie and mouthed, What’s going on?
Ellie shook her head. Sounds upset.
Grant mouthed, See if Morris is still here.
She went to the window and looked out, but Morris’s car was gone. She turned back.
On the speaker, Hammond coughed. “Ah, Dr. Grant. Have you told anybody about it yet?”
“No.”
“Good, that’s good. Well. Yes. I’ll tell you frankly, Dr. Grant, I’m having a little problem about this island. This EPA thing is coming at just the wrong time.”
“How’s that?” Grant said.
“Well, we’ve had our problems and some delays. . . . Let’s just say that I’m under a little pressure here, and I’d like you to look at this island for me. Give me your opinion. I’ll be paying you the usual weekend consultant rate of twenty thousand a day. That’d be sixty thousand for three days. And if you can spare Dr. Sattler, she’ll go at the same rate. We need a botanist. What do you say?”
Ellie looked at Grant as he said, “Well, Mr. Hammond, that much money would fully finance our expeditions for the next two summers.”
“Good, good,” Hammond said blandly. He seemed distracted now, his thoughts elsewhere. “I want this to be easy. . . . Now, I’m sending the corporate jet to pick you up at that private airfield cast of Choteau. You know the one I mean? It’s only about two hours’ drive from where you are. You be there at five p.m. tomorrow and I’ll be waiting for you. Take you right down. Can you and Dr. Sattler make that plane?”
“I guess we can.”
“Good. Pack lightly. You don’t need passports. I’m looking forward to it. See you tomorrow,” Hammond said, and he hung up.