Nobody cracked the obvious jokes.
”Any danger to the tourists?” Bull asked, glancing unhappily at the damage and the white-faced tourists still cowering in storefronts.
”Dunno. Probably not, unless the animals feel threatened. I doubt they would unless somebody went after ’em: Birds, anyway, aren’t as violently reactive as, say, killer bees, although the pterosaurs may be. Not as likely, but we just don’t know.” “Then we don’t disturb them until we get additional expert advice,” Bull decided. “Next time Primary cycles, send for whoever you need Those things eat fish? Okay, stock all the fish ponds in the station and keep ’em stocked. Watch the little buggers and let me know if they put anybody in danger. Well, more danger than being spattered with dinosaur droppings.”
The Pest Control crews chuckle Sue Fritchey said, “They’re not dinosaurs, they’re pterosaurs and protobirds. But don’t worry, we’ll handle it.”
Bull nodded, then glanced at Malcolm and Kit. “Thanks for the help, boys.”
”Glad to pitch in,” Kit smiled. “It’s not every day even I get to wrestle a giant pterodactyl to the ground.”
Bull chuckled “Point taken. You all right, Malcolm?.
Kit looked around. The young guide was nursing his wrist. “Yeah, just bloody bruised.”
Bull peered closely at the wrist, which was visibly swelling. “Have Rachel look at it and don’t argue. My tab. I’ll call her.”
Malcolm sighed. “Thanks, Bull. Me and my lousy luck.”
Kit grinned. “Don’t think you get out of this job so easily.”
Malcolm gave him a sour glance. “What job? You haven’t even told me what it is, yet.”