The Lost World by Michael Crichton

Harding closed her eyes, and turned away. This was a different world, and one she did not understand at all. In a daze, she headed back down the bill, moving quietly, carefully away from the kill.

Noise

The Ford Explorer glided quietly forward along the jungle path. They were following a game trail on the ridge above the valley, heading down toward the high hide, in the valley below.

Thorne drove. He said to Malcolm, “You were saying earlier that you knew why the dinosaurs became extinct….”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I do,” Malcolm said. “The basic situation is simple enough.” He shifted in his seat. “Dinosaurs arose in the Triassic, about two hundred million years ago. They proliferated throughout the Jurassic and the Cretaceous periods that followed. They were the dominant life form on this planet for about a hundred and fifty million years – which is a very long time.”

“Considering we’ve been here for only three million,” Eddie said.

“Let’s not put on airs,” Malcolm said. “Some puny apes have been here for three miIlion years. We haven’t. Recognizable human beings have only been on this planet for thirty-five thousand years,” he said. “That’s how long it’s been since our ancestors painted caves in France and Spain, drawing pictures of game to invoke success in the hunt. Thirty-five thousand years. In the history of the earth, that’s nothing at all. We’ve just arrived.”

“Okay…”

“And of course even thirty-five thousand years ago, we were already making species extinct. Cavemen killed so much game that animals became extinct on several continents. There used to be lions and tigers in Europe. There used to be giraffes and rhinos in Los Angeles. Hell, ten thousand years ago, the ancestors of Native Americans hunted the woolly mammoth to extinction. This is nothing new, this human tendency – ”

“Ian.’

“Well, it’s a fact, although your modern airheads think it’s all so brand-new – ”

“Ian. You were talking about dinosaurs.”

“Right. Dinosaurs. Anyway, during a hundred and fifty million years on this planet, dinosaurs were so successful that by the Cretaceous there were twenty-one major groups of them. A few groups, like the camarasaurs and fabrosaurs, had died out. But the overwhelming majority of dinosaur groups were still active throughout the Cretaceous. And then, suddenly, about sixty-five million years ago, every single group became extinct. And only the birds remained. So. The question is – What was that?”

“I thought you knew,” Thorne said.

“No. I mean, what was that sound? Did you hear something?” “No,” Thorne said.

“Stop the car,” Malcolm said.

Thorne stopped the car, and clicked off the engine. They rolled down the windows and felt the still, midday heat. There was almost no breeze. They listened for a while.

Thorne shrugged. “I don’t hear anything. What did you think you – ”

“Sssh,” Malcolm said. He cupped his hand to his ear and put his head out the window, listening intently. After a moment, he came back in. “I could have sworn I heard an engine.”

“An engine? You mean an internal-combustion engine?”

“Right.” He pointed to the east. “It sounded like it was coming from over there.”

They listened again, and heard nothing.

Thorne shook his head. “I can’t imagine a gas engine here, Ian. There’s no gas to run one.”

The radio clicked. “Dr. Malcolm?” It was Arby, in the trailer.

” Yes, Arby.”

“Who else is here? On the island?”

“What do you mean?”

“Turn on your monitor.”

Thorne flicked on the dashboard monitor. They saw a view from one of the security cameras. The view looked down into the narrow, steep east valley. They saw the slope of a hillside, dark beneath the trees. A tree branch blocked much of the frame. But the view was still, silent. There was no sign of activity.

“What did you see, Arby?”

“Just watch.”

Through the leaves, Thorne saw a flash of khaki, then another. He realized it was a person, half-walking, half-sliding, down the steep jungle slope toward the floor below. Small compact frame, short dark hair.

“I’ll be damned,” Malcolm said, smiling.

“You know who that is?”

“Yes, of course. It’s Sarah.”

“Well, we better go get her.” Thorne reached for the radio, pressed the button. “Richard,” he said.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *