And in the center of the packing was a radio.
He flicked it on. The battery light glowed strongly. He flicked from one channel to another, hearing static.
Then a man’s voice. “Sarah? This is Thorne. Sarah.”
After a moment, a woman’s voice: “Doc. Did you hear me? I said, I’m at the car.”
Dodgson listened, and smiled.
So there was a car.
In the store, Thorne held the radio close to his cheek. “Okay,” he said.
Sarah? Listen carefully. Get in the car, and do exactly what I tell you.”
“Okay fine,” she said. “But tell me first. Is Levine there?”
“He’s here.”
The radio clicked. She said, “Ask him if there’s any danger from a green dinosaur that’s about six feet tall and has a domed forehead.”
Levine nodded. “Tell her yes. They’re called pachycephalosaurs.”
“He says yes,” Thorne said. “They’re pachycephalo-somethings, and you should be careful. Why?”
“Because there’s about fifty of them, all around the car.”
Explorer
The Explorer was sitting in the middle of a shady section of the road, with overhanging trees above. The car had stopped just beyond a depression, where there had no doubt been a large puddle the night before. Now the puddle had become a mudhole, thanks to the dozen or so animals that sat in it, splashed in it, drank from it, and rolled at its edges. These were the green dome-headed dinosaurs that she had been watcing for the last few minutes, trying to decide what to do. Because not only were they near the mudhole, they were also located in front of the car, and around the sides of the car.
She had watched the pachycephalosaurs with uneasiness. Harding had spent a lot of time on the ground with wild animals, but usually animals she knew well. From long experience, she knew how closely she could approach, and under what circumstances. If this were a herd of wildebeest, she would walk right in without hesitation. If it were a herd of American buffalo, she would be cautious, but she’d still go in. And if it was a herd of African buffalo, she wouldn’t go anywhere near them.
She pushed the microphone against her cheek and said, “How much time left?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Then I better get in there,” she said. “Any ideas?”
There was a pause. The radio crackled.
“Levine says nobody knows anything about these animals, Sarah.”
“Great.”
“Levine says a complete skeleton has never been recovered. So nobody has even a guess about their behavior, except that they’re probably aggressive.
“Great,” she said.
She was looking at the situation of the car, and the overhanging trees. It was a shady area, peaceful and quiet in the early-morning light.
The radio crackled. “Levine says you might try walking slowly in, and see if the herd lets you through. But no quick movements, no sudden gestures.”
She stared at the animals and thought: They have those domed heads for a reason.
“No thanks,” she said. “I’m going to try something else.”
“What?”
In the store, Levine said, “What’d she say?”
“She said she was going to try something else.”
“Like what?” Levine said. He went to the window and looked out. The sky was growing lighter. He frowned. There was some consequence to that, he thought. Something he knew in the back of his mind, but wasn’t thinking about.
Something about daylight…
And territory.
Territory.
Levine looked out at the sky again, trying to put it together. What difference did it make that daylight was coming? He shook his head, gave it up for the moment. “How long to reset the breakers?”
“Just a minute or two,” Thorne said.
“Then there might still be time,” Levine said.
There was static hiss from the radio, and they heard Harding say, “Okay, I’m above the car.”
“You’re where?”
“I’m above the car,” she said. “In a tree.”
Harding climbed out on the branch, moving farther from the trunk, feeling it bend under her weight. The branch seemed supple. She was now ten feet above the car, swinging lower. Few of the animals below had looked up at her, but the herd seemed to be restless. Animals sitting in the mud got up, and began to turn and mill. She saw their tails flicking back and forth anxiously.