TWENTY ONE

Ellie was startled from her sleep the next morning by a loud squawking sound that seemed to be coming from inside her cubicle. Her eyes snapped open and she raised her head from the pillow, looking around for the source of the noise she had heard. Everything was as she had left it the night before; nothing in the cubicle appeared to be out of the ordinary. She was just about to pass off the odd screech as a dream and lie back down when her eyes fell upon the peculiar moving shadow in the square of sunshine on the floor. Rising up on her elbow, she looked toward the window.

A wild conure sat on the window sill, preening its green and yellow plumage in the morning sunlight, apparently unaware of the human it had disturbed. Moving slowly to avoid scaring it, Ellie sat up on her bed and watched as the colorful bird fluffed its feathers, shaking loose the dander and old feathers, then returned to its grooming.

"Hello there," Ellie said, softly.

The bird immediately halted its preening and cocked its head to gaze at her suspiciously through eyes that resembled shiny black beads.

"It’s okay," she said, keeping her voice quiet. Slowly, she rose from the bed and walked toward it. She stopped a short distance away, wishing she could pet it, yet knowing that there was no way a wild bird would allow her to touch it.

It continued to watch her with curiosity. It likely had never seen a human before, for it did not seem particularly frightened of her, simply wary of the two legged creature that stood nearby. It opened its hooked beak and squawked again, as if informing her that she had come close enough.

"Sh," she told the bird, glancing quickly at the gray wall that separated her cubicle from the one in which Alan was sleeping. "I don’t want you to wake Alan. He needs his rest."

As if offended by her request for quiet, the conure turned its back to her, opened its wings and launched itself off the window sill. Ellie closed the distance to the window and watched as it soared over the treetops and disappeared into the vastness of the sky.

Bird dander and feathers littered the window sill, so she leaned over and blew them out, then leaned against the wall beside it to gaze out at the dawn. It was a beautiful morning with a brilliant sun and only a mild breeze. It would have been a perfect day to get out into the field to study the animals, but that would have to wait for another day, when she and Alan were completely well.

She was feeling much better that morning. Her fever had climaxed overnight, as Alan’s had done the night before, and she pressed a hand to her cheek, checking to be sure, and was relieved that the excessive heat in her skin was gone. The sore throat was also better. Reaching high over her head with her arms, she stretched the stiffness from her back.

Moving closer to the gray fabric wall, she listened carefully, but heard no sound from Alan’s cubicle, so she slipped quietly through her curtain and paused near his door.

"Alan, are you awake?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper to avoid disturbing him if he was asleep.

She heard no reply, or the sound of rustling sheets or any other signs of movement to indicate that he was awake, so she parted his curtain with her hand to check on him, expecting to find him sound asleep. To her surprise, she saw only his empty bed and rumpled sheets.

For some reason, Alan had gotten out of bed and left the room. Wondering why he had not summoned her to bring whatever it was he wanted, she hurried into the hallway. She found him standing before the open closet near the bathroom, slowly pulling a bath towel from the stack of clean towels. Draping the towel over his left arm, he then reached for a wash cloth. With both items in hand, he paused briefly to press his right hand against the huge, painful bruise on his back, and then he turned toward the bathroom. It was obvious that he intended to clean himself up.

"Alan!" she exclaimed so abruptly that he flinched as he turned toward her. "You shouldn’t be up!"

He raised his hand to cut her off, a grimly determined expression on his face. He was not looking forward to the task, but he would not be dissuaded from it either. "Don’t ‘mother hen’ me, Ellie. I haven’t had a shower or shaved in two days. My face feels like a Brillo pad, and I look like something the cat dragged in, plus I still have on the same pair of jeans I was wearing two days ago. I wasn’t able to take them off when I went to bed that first night."

"You should have said something! I can shave you in bed and give you a rubdown and help you into clean clothes," she objected as she hurried to his side. "Really, you shouldn’t be up yet!"

"Save your breath, honey," he said, his voice kind but firm as he affectionately pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "The only way I’m going to feel clean is to drench myself in water and work up a good lather, and that is what I intend to do."

"Then let me help you," she suggested, grasping his arm as if he was an elderly person needing assistance. "You don’t have much freedom of movement right now, and this is a pretty big task so soon after the accident."

"I’m a big boy," he told her. "I’m quite capable of bathing myself."

For the first time, an amused smile smoothed the concerned frown on her face. "Alan, it’s no big deal. I mean, it isn’t as if I’ve never seen you before, and it isn’t as though a complete stranger was offering, you know."

He smiled, inwardly; in ways that he would not tell her at that moment, it would have been much easier if she had been a complete stranger. "I know, I know. This is just something I want to do by myself, and I don’t need any help. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . ." He started to push the bathroom door open.

With reluctance, she finally relented. "All right, but I’ll be right out here. Just let me know if you need me."

He stopped and turned to face her again, but he couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed with her. The love and concern he saw in her eyes touched him deeply. "Ellie, I know you’re concerned, but everything is fine. I’m not going to keel over in the shower. There’s no need to worry." He waved her away with his hand. "Just go ahead and do whatever you normally do when you get up."

She hesitated. "Well, if you’re sure."

"I’m sure."

"Well, okay, then. I’ll go downstairs and put on a pot of coffee, then I’ll come back up to take my own shower."

"Okay, just mind the sign," he added as he flipped the sign on the bathroom door to the "occupied" position. "This is going to be a slow process, so give me some extra time to get it done."

"Okay." She moved away a few steps, then turned back to face him again with a worried expression.

He waved her away again, more forcefully than before, but his smile assured her that he was not upset with her. "Go!" He pushed open the bathroom door and went inside.

Ellie watched as the door swept shut, and sighed. She understood his need for privacy and also his reluctance to accept her help. In his place, she probably would have reacted the same way. He had accepted her attention and assistance when it was needed, but it appeared that he was ready to start doing things for himself again. He was stubborn, but he was also strong willed, and it was that strong will that had pulled him through so many accidents and injuries. It would see him through this one as well.

She returned to her own cubical, engaging herself in a bit of soul-searching, wondering if perhaps it was her need to mother that caused her to fuss so much over Alan. She had never fussed so much over Mark, but she had the children to occupy her time and energy. They had needed her, and she had relished in the fulfillment of caring for them. That sense of wanting to be needed had remained, even though her family was gone, and she realized that she was now directing that need toward Alan in an irrational manner.

"You should have paid more attention in your psyche class," she said aloud to herself as she snatched her jeans up off the floor. "Maybe then you’d have some insight on what makes you so doting."

She dressed in the clothing she had worn the day before, preferring to wait before putting on clean ones until after she had her shower. After raking a brush through her hair, she left her cubicle and emerged into the hallway just as a sudden shout echoed from inside the bathroom.

Startled, certain that Alan had slipped and fallen or somehow caused himself serious injury, she rushed down the corridor. Just as her hands touched the door, she heard him exclaim, "Damn, that’s cold!"

With a relieved sigh and a knowing smile in complete understanding of the effects unheated water had on the half-asleep human body, she backed away from the door and proceeded down the stairs at a brisk trot.

Because she liked the fresh air, Ellie tended to leave the window of her cubicle open during the night, which could be quickly closed if necessary, but as always, the solid doors and windows downstairs had been closed the night before in the event of an unexpected overnight rain shower. This practice left the interior very dark, so as she passed the front door, she pulled it open, and pushed it back against the wall before continuing on to the kitchen. She flipped on the kitchen light as she entered, and immediately put on a pot of coffee. While it brewed, she went to the back door and opened it to let the mild breeze drift through the building.

Slipping her arms through the bars on the protective outer door, she leaned against it and gazed out across the meadow toward the jungle beyond the garden, thinking about Alan and wondering what the future held for the two of them. Sometimes, it was difficult to determine what thoughts were hiding behind those opaque blue eyes of his. He was a complex man, but she was certain he still cared for her. She had felt it in his touch that morning, and she now understood the unspoken reason why he had been reluctant to accept her help in the shower. It was a conscious decision that had less to do with his independence or modesty than it had with the closeness they would have shared in such a vulnerable moment. He was holding back, refusing to place themselves in a situation that could lead to intimacy. He had gone out of his way to maintain individual privacy, even creating the sign for the bathroom door. What she was uncertain of was whether he was allowing her the time to heal from her loss before they moved forward, or if he was resisting the notion of rekindling their relationship altogether.

She remained at the door, lost in thought for a long time, but when the tantalizing aroma of brewing coffee drifted through the rooms, she knew it was time to decide what to prepare for breakfast.

Pushing away from the door, Ellie turned around and nearly bumped into Alan, who had come up from behind to see what she was looking at. Barefoot, he had made no sound, and she had been totally unaware of his presence.

He stepped back to avoid being bumped, and she did the same with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn’t see you standing there!" she said.

Freshly washed and shaved, he looked much better. His damp hair was clean, and the bristly stubble was gone from his face, leaving it smooth and handsome. He was dressed in khakis and a tee shirt, which he had not bothered to tuck into his waistband. Too much effort was involved in the procedure.

Reaching up to caress the smooth skin of his cheek, she added, "Hey, you look more like the Alan I know!"

"I feel more like the Alan you know . . . . well, almost. At the moment, I’m afraid I’m damaged merchandise."

"Only temporarily," she said. "You’ll be as good as new before long. You know, I’m not trying to nag, but you really should go back to bed for a few more days to protect those ribs."

"Nope, I’ve had enough of lying in bed looking at four gray walls. I’m going to have my meals down here today, and I’m going to work in my office. I need to go over the videos we shot of the Parasaurolophus the other day."

She drew a breath to speak, but he abruptly raised his hand to cut her off.

Pointing his forefinger in front of her face, he lifted his eyebrows. "No buts! I promise, I’ll be careful," he told her.

"I wasn’t going to say anything about that!" she protested. "I was just going to ask what you want for breakfast."

His smile was sheepish. "Oh. Sorry. I don’t know; a bowl of cereal, I guess."

"Yeah, we need to start using those up," she said as she moved away from the door and back into the kitchen. "We’ll be getting another supply drop in three weeks, so we’ll want fresh stuff."

"You looked a million miles away when I came down here. What were you looking at just now?" he asked, curiously as he followed her to the pantry.

"Oh, nothing, really. Just looking at the jungle out there past the garden. I can’t believe how quickly I’ve adapted to living out here in the wilderness!"

He scratched his head, rumpling up his damp hair. "You know, it’s been a couple of days since I’ve been in the garden. We really need to get in there today and start picking some of the vegetables."

"What is this ‘we’?" she asked. "I’ll be doing any picking that needs doing for a few more days."

"It isn’t hurting so bad today," he insisted. "In fact, I feel quite good today."

"Even so, you could turn wrong or you could trip or do something else that makes it worse."

"I’ll be careful, but I will be going out with you. After being shut in these past few days, a little fresh air and sunshine is very appealing."

"All right, but remember, you’re just there to observe," she warned.

A smile played around the corner of his lips, indicating that he was amused with her protectiveness of him. "Yes, ma’am." He peered over her shoulder at the titles on the variety of cereal boxes, and finally selected the one that held the most appeal to him at that moment. "Too bad we have to use canned milk to pour over it. It just isn’t as good as fresh milk."

"Yeah, I know," she agreed as she removed two bowls from the cupboard. "Fresh milk only stays good for so long. Still, we should be grateful we even have that. Otherwise, we’d have to eat it completely dry."

"Sometimes, I think that might be preferable!" he quipped. "When I was a kid, I used to eat it right out of the box."

"I think every kid used to do that."

They shook some of the cereal out of the boxes into the bowls, poured the canned milk over it, and then carried them and their cups of coffee into the dining room, and sat down. Alan moved more slowly than usual, and was very careful not to lean back against the hard back rest as he eased himself into one of the chairs. When he was finished, he folded his arms on the table top and sighed, heavily, deep in thought.

Ellie had always been in tune with his moods, and knew when to cheer him up and when to leave him alone, but this time she was uncertain what was bothering him. "You seem down. What’s wrong?" she inquired.

"Oh, nothing really. I was just thinking about you standing at the door looking out at the jungle. It makes me want to get out in the field again. It’s just hard, knowing that I’m going to have to take it easy for a couple more weeks. I’m not used to being inactive. This is going to throw my research behind schedule."

She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed it with great affection. "I know it’s rough, but it’ll pass before you know it, and we’ll get back on schedule. Remember, there’s two of us, now."

He smiled. "Yeah, I know. Guess we’ll both get back into shape together."

She laughed. "I hadn’t thought of it like that, but yeah, I guess we will. Are you finished? I’ll take your plate."

"Yeah."

"I’ll take care of the dishes."

"I can help," he told her. "You wash, I’ll rinse."

Ellie fetched the bucket of water with which to wash the dishes, but she agreed to allow Alan to help her with the dishes. As soon as they were washed, they went out to the garden, and while Ellie picked the squash and cucumbers, Alan picked the tomatoes that were high enough on the stakes that he was not forced to bend over to get to them. Ellie then went behind him, picking the ones that were hanging near the ground.

"I really miss my hat," Alan lamented as he moved to the corner of the fence and watched Ellie reach under one of the tomato plants to collect the large red fruit he had been unable to reach. "I feel rather naked without it."

Ellie giggled. "I’m really going to have to show you the video I took of that Brachiosaurus stealing your hat. It was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen!"

He smiled, recalling her hysterical laughter, and even though he remembered it had been immediately followed by her emotional breakdown, he did not mention it. It was hard to believe that it had occurred less than a week ago. Since then, she had made tremendous progress toward her emotional recovery. "Yeah, I felt pretty foolish," he admitted. "I’ve never known one of them to do something like that before."

Kneeling on the ground beside the staked tomato vines, Ellie paused in her work to watch while Alan leaned his left arm on the fence rail and lifted his eyes to the nearby forest, still longing to get back in the field.

Spying a movement behind him, she shifted her gaze to identify it, and was startled to see a small herd of Protoceratops lumbering slowly toward them, grazing their way across the compound. Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she stood up. "Hey, Alan, look!"

Tearing his eyes from the forest, Alan turned around, following Ellie’s pointing finger. Five of the stocky, armored dinosaurs were moving slowly toward them, cropping at clumps of tall grass as they progressed.

"You can’t go to them, so it looks like they’re coming to you!" she told him.

"Yeah, looks like it," he agreed.

Moving closer to the fence, Ellie observed the dinosaurs with great interest. She had known that this particular species existed on the island, for Alan had encountered one during the hike from the airstrip on Ellie’s first day, but it was one she had not actually seen with her own eyes. They were small compared to their cousins, the Triceratops, standing only about three high at the shoulder. Like the Trikes, they walked on four stout legs, had a high rounded back, and possessed an ornamental frill at the base of their skulls, but they did not display the magnificent trio of horns on their beaked faces.

It was also the first time since her arrival that she had seen animals in the compound. Protected by the sturdy fence, neither Alan nor Ellie felt threatened by the presence of the herbivores as they moved closer to the garden.

One of the animals came right up to them, cropping the taller grasses that grew against the fence, and Ellie knelt down before it and pressed her face against the welded rebar to watch with fascination. Only mildly alarmed, it uttered a low, guttural sound, clearly a warning for her to keep her distance. Then, with a slight toss of its massive head as if to dismiss her, it returned to its foraging, but kept a wary eye trained on her.

"It’s about the same size as the farm hogs my uncle used to raise," Ellie marveled. "I’ve seen their skeletons, but somehow I thought they’d be bigger."

"You’ve been away from it for a while," he reminded her. "Tell me; what’s the time frame for the species?"

Ellie thought for a moment, seeking the dinosaur studies that had been committed to memory years ago and stored in the back of her mind throughout her marriage. "Um, Cretaceous period. Late. Found primarily in . . . China and Mongolia."

"Very good," he praised.

She looked up at him appreciatively. He had always been a good instructor, pushing his students hard, but rewarding good work and accomplishments with individual recognition. Reminded that she had been informed weeks ago that he was no longer teaching, she found herself wondering what had caused him to leave a profession that he had loved. This did not seem the appropriate time to bring up the subject, but she was determined that she would ask later.

"Give it one of the tomatoes," Alan suggested.

This surprised her. "Are you sure you want to interact with it?"

"Sure, go ahead. We have more than we’ll ever eat. Use the ones that are cracked or blemished. "

"I know, but Malcolm told me that Hammond didn’t want his expedition to deliberately interact with them. He said they were there to observe and document only."

"That was his expedition. This is my expedition. I’ve been interacting with them in one way or another since I got here. Remember when we captured the Compie? I’ve captured several of them. Besides, you think a Brachiosaur eats a Fedora every day?" he asked with a smile. "No, in my opinion, the best way to study their behavior is to get up close and personal, as long as it’s in a safe environment."

"Okay." Reaching into the bucket, Ellie withdrew one of the tomatoes and extended her arm through the fence, offering it to the nearest Protoceratops. At first it warily shied away from her hand, but then it detected the smell of the tomato. Curiously, it moved its head closer and sniffed at the fruit.

"Watch your fingers," Alan cautioned, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. "There’s a lot of pressure in those jaws."

The creature’s tongue came out of its parrot-like beak, wrapped around the fruit, and pulled it into its mouth. It must have liked the flavor, because after it was chewed up and swallowed, the young dinosaur nuzzled at her hand, searching for another. She quickly obliged.

While the animal was occupied with the tomatoes that Ellie was offering, Alan very carefully sank to his knees and reached through the fence to place his hand on its flank. Slowly, he dragged his hand along its body, feeling the hard, pebbly texture of the skin.

"It’s very hard and rough, like that of the Trike," he told her. "It feels like it would be really thick and tough. Since it doesn’t have any defensive tools, other than that frill, it would make sense that it would develop skin that was difficult to puncture."

Offering it another tomato with her right hand, Ellie used her left hand to stroke the animal’s face, taking particular note of the hard beak. Her heart accelerated with the thrill of discovery, reminding her of the examination of the Triceratops in Jurassic Park so many years ago.

The entire scene was surreal, like a spectacular dream. To view a herd of dinosaurs in their normal jungle or meadow setting was one thing, but to be standing near a modern building, looking at and actually touching a prehistoric beast seemed to be a contradiction of the natural order of time and history. That both could exist at the same time was a testament to how far mankind had come in the way of scientific discovery.

The other animals did not come close enough to touch, and were making their way slowly around the edge of the garden, passing between the garden and the dormitory. Drawn by the herding instinct, the one that the two scientists had been examining finally moved away from them, following its companions.

Alan and Ellie stood up and moved to the other side of the garden to watch them. It took nearly a half hour for the animals to graze their way across the compound, then they proceeded up the hill and out of the immediate area.

Ellie turned to look at Alan, who was still intently watching the dinosaurs as they disappeared into the jungle. "So, are you feeling better now?"

He smiled. "Much better. Well, I guess if we’re finished here, I’ll go inside and get started on that film footage."

"While you do that, I’ll get cleaned up."

Returning to the dorm, Ellie went upstairs to shower and Alan went into the office and sat down at his desk. First, he removed the telephone from the drawer and hooked it up to the charger. Then, he spent part of the morning studying the film footage he and Ellie had taken of the Parasaurolophus while she laid her eggs, comparing the footage to the notes he had written down the day before and making adjustments where necessary for an accurate accounting of the event.

After lunch, he lay down on the sofa and took a nap, and after supper, he and Ellie went into the living room to relax for a while before retiring. Ellie sat down on the sofa, but Alan sat down carefully in the large easy chair, obviously to avoid being jostled if she shifted position beside him on the sofa.

For a long time, neither spoke, but instead sat listening to the sounds of nature outside. Only, the sounds of nature weren’t the normal sounds of owls hooting or crickets chirping. It was the occasional eerie cries and calls of the dinosaurs in the distance, and Alan laid his head back and closed his eyes, as if trying to envision them in his mind.

The windows and doors were wide open to permit the cooling breeze to enter the building, and as she gazed at Alan in the silvery glow of moonlight, Ellie’s thoughts returned to the questions she had regarding Alan’s employment. She had not approached him about it since her arrival, but now, in the still of a quiet evening, she revisited those thoughts.

When she finally spoke, there was hesitancy in her voice, as if she feared she was treading uninvited into forbidden territory. "Alan?"

He lifted his head and opened his eyes. "Hm?"

"I’ve been wondering about something. Why did you leave your jobs at the museum and the university? You worked so hard for your achievements. I couldn’t believe that you had left like that."

His eyes expressed surprise in response to her query. Since her arrival, they had discussed many things, but never the events that had directly influenced his decision to come to the island. "How did you find out about that?"

"Well, when I decided I wanted to go back to work with you, I called the University first, expecting you would be in class. They said you were taking an extended sabbatical, so I called the museum. Peg told me you had just left one day and never came back. No one seemed to know what had happened or why you had left. Why? Your work was your life. All the degrees you earned ---"

"I had no say in it, Ellie," he interrupted. "The degrees I worked so hard to achieve are just worthless pieces of paper encased in frames and stored in a box in the back of my closet."

She remembered the diplomas, degrees, awards, and special achievements that he had earned throughout his life and had been prominently displayed in his office at the museum. They had, in fact, covered one entire wall, an impressive record of his life as a world renowned paleontologist. He had earned every one of them through dedication and hard work. She, more than anyone else, knew how dedicated he was to his work.

Reaching for lamp on the table, she found the switch and turned it on. Light illuminated the room, and she instantly knew that something dramatic had occurred in his life since she had seen him the previous summer. "In your closet?" she asked. "Why? What happened?"

He knew she was remembering the wall on which he had displayed his life’s achievements. His gaze slid dejectedly to the floor, as if ashamed. "I had a bit of a falling out with the museum administrators, Ellie. In the end, it was suggested that I should leave, at least for awhile."

For a moment, she could not speak. Because his work had always been his life, it seemed totally inconceivable that he had no job to go to. "I don’t understand. You’re the Curator of Paleontology! You’ve always been the best. You’ve brought in more quality museum exhibits than anyone else! Did they hire someone to replace you?" The very idea of replacing Alan Grant seemed ludicrous, but she could think of no other reason why he would be let go.

"No, I wasn’t replaced." He refused to meet her shocked gaze, concentrating instead on a small tear in the fabric of the chair in which he sat, probing at it with his fingers as if held the utmost interest. Always a man of great dignity and self-respect, she knew his pride was severely wounded by the loss of employment in a profession he loved. "It’s been gradually building toward this for a long time. I couldn’t get funding for my digs, Ellie. Everywhere I went, it was always the same: No one wants to donate money to dig up old bones when living, breathing specimens are here on this island, waiting to be studied. I had to abandon the dig site in Montana last summer because we ran out of money."

"That was why you were in Arlington last summer," she recalled. "To try to find investors in the project. They weren’t interested?"

"In a word, no. After my appeal, they all looked at me like I was some kind of idiot. I felt like I was standing on stage in my underwear."

She smiled, softly. "It couldn’t have been that bad."

"It was worse. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that vulnerable in front of a crowd of potential investors. Always before, they were willing, eager in fact, to participate in new discoveries and new finds. Dinosaur discovery was once the primary topic that investors were interested in, because we were always new facts, new ideas and theories to turn the paleontology world upside down. When word first came out about the existence of these islands, people flocked to the museum in droves to view the dinosaur exhibits and everyone wanted to hear my lectures. For awhile, I couldn‘t keep up with all the invitations. It wasn’t long, though, before their interest in looking at fossilized bones faded. Dinosaurs of the past have become unimportant. They want to see real, living, breathing dinosaurs."

"But you’re a dinosaur expert! The best in the world!"

His smile was bitter. "Well, I don’t know about that. It wasn’t enough to keep my job. Because of falling attendance in the dinosaur exhibits, the administrators at the museum decided to rethink their position on the search and discovery of fossils. I was released from my ‘contractual obligations’ until such a time as my services are considered remunerative."

"You’ve been such an asset to the museum over the years, I can’t believe they would just let you go like that! There must surely be something for you to do!"

He sighed, despondently. "I’ve tried explaining that the specimens on this island are not even genetically pure; that frog DNA was used to complete the gene sequence codes, but no one wants to hear about that. They’ve scaled back the exhibits and even removed some of my finer discoveries. My Velociraptor display, the most complete set of skeletons in the world, is collecting dust in a back room due to lack of interest."

Ellie’s heart sank. "What about the classes at the university?"

"They are extinct," he said with a wry smile. "There weren’t enough students enrolled in paleontology to justify placing the class on the fall semester, so they went the way of the true dinosaurs. They said they would notify me if interest picks up this fall, but I’m not holding my breath."

"What made you decide to come back here?"

"What else is an out of work dinosaur hunter going to do? Other paleontologists are having the same troubles I am with funding, and they have been petitioning the U.S. and Costa Rican governments for permission to come to the islands to conduct extensive studies of the animals. So . . . . "

"So, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em," Ellie guessed.

Again, his smile was bitter and ironic. "No, I had no intention of joining them – I had to get here first, before the governments got together on this matter and allowed them in. I knew I had a better shot at it than they did because I had actually seen them, and had been a survivor of the Park. That gave me an edge. After everything I had been through during my first two visits to these islands, I felt I had a fundamental right to study them first. I had to get down here before someone else beat me to it."

"So, you asked Mark to help cut through the red tape?"

Abandoning his interest in the marred chair, his eyes darted to her face, surprised. "Did he tell you anything about that?"

"Actually, no." She shrugged, remembering that strange conversation in the car the night of the accident, and even a few incidents before that. "Well, I knew something was going on just before he was killed. He was so secretive, and I kept feeling him staring at me like he wanted to say something, but he never did. I would ask him what was going on, but he would reply that it wasn’t anything I needed to concern myself with. I never would have guessed that it involved you. I didn’t find out anything about it until I started trying to find you. When I discovered that you were no longer in Montana, I just had a bad feeling you might be down here, so I went to the State Department and quizzed one of Mark’s associates until he finally told me."

This brought a smile to his lips. "Somehow, that isn’t hard to imagine."

Ignoring his obvious reference to her relentless persistence, she continued, "He had taken over the case files after Mark’s death because he was familiar with it. When I was talking to him, I had the feeling that Mark must have told him about us, about our past." She shook her head, as if bewildered, but experienced a newly found respect for Mark’s persuasive abilities. "Both governments have been so indecisive about these islands. I can’t believe he was able to pull it off."

"I was surprised he did it so quickly," Alan agreed. ""Do you think it bothered Mark, knowing about us?"

"If you had asked me that before, I would have said no. He never let on that it bothered him. I mean, he had a past too, with other women, so I never really thought about it. But while I was at the State Department, Kevin kept looking at me with t his peculiar expression on his face, like he was wondering just what our relationship may have been."

"How much do you think Mark told him?"

"I don’t know. I seriously doubt he told him that we were lovers, or anything like that, but he must have made it apparent that we did have a past."

"That would have been obvious, since we worked very closely together." He paused, then added with respect. "He seemed a decent man."

Ellie nodded, slowly. "Yes, he was."

Awkward silence settled over them for a short time as each of them thought back to the old days, when summers had been spent on dig site and winters had been spent in the classroom. Even while married, Ellie had missed those times, and she knew that Alan did, too. Shrugging aside those thoughts, she turned the conversation back to the paleontologist.

"Alan, why did you come down here alone? Any number of people would have given their eye teeth for the opportunity to come down here with you to study these animals."

"Right," he said with a twinge of sarcasm. "A bunch of eager, excited tourists tramping carelessly and noisily around the island, calling attention to themselves, displaying no regard to safety, and getting themselves eaten by the carnivores. I’ve already experienced that, thank you." He grimaced, remembering the savage attack on the airplane by the Spinosaurus during his previous visit to the island. It had been the most frightening experience he had ever encountered. "I’m tired of seeing people eaten alive, Ellie. Their screams will haunt me for the rest of my life. I decided that one person alone stood the best chance of observing these animals. Alone, I can blend in and move about the forest virtually unnoticed."

"I wasn’t thinking about inexperienced amateurs. I was suggesting maybe one or two of the more renowned paleontologists."

"Hammond’s nephew hired a renowned paleontologist when he was having his delusions about opening a park in San Diego. He was killed by a T-Rex during Malcolm’s exhibition," he reminded her. "I was familiar with his work. He was a good scientist, but like everyone else, he got careless, taken in by the overwhelming achievements InGen created. There is something about this place that causes people to lose sight of the danger they are in. No, when John Hammond took us to Jurassic Park, he initially thrust me into the middle of this situation without revealing to me what I was up against. I will be damned if I’m going to share this experience with any of them."

Ellie was surprised. By sheer necessity, paleontology involved many people, all sharing in the hard work and the glory of discovery. To hear him guard his research so jealously was uncharacteristic.

Alan saw her expression and understood exactly what she was thinking. "I know that sounds selfish of me, but sharing a dig site with students and volunteers is very different than sharing this island with other paleontologists of equal rank. This is my last great discovery, Ellie. I intend to get the credit for it."

"I’m not judging you," she said. "It just doesn’t sound like you, hearing you talk like this. Still, after everything you’ve been through, it isn’t really surprising that you would feel that way."

"You don’t have to be polite. I’ve been an absolute jerk at times, blaming Hammond and his geneticists for nullifying my career, becoming defensive every time someone mentions this place. But all that changes nothing. This place is here, it’s real, and I have to deal with it."

"You don’t have to deal with it alone, you know," she said with a gentle smile. "I’m here, and we’ve always been a pretty good team, if I do say so myself."

He couldn’t suppress his smile in response to hers. She had always had a positive affect on him. "You’re the only one I would welcome to help me in this," he admitted. "In fact, nothing pleases me more than having you here. However, it’s going to be pretty boring around here until I’m able to get back out in the field."

"I have an idea. In a week or two, when you’re able to move about more freely, why don’t we go over to the research center? You won’t be ready to be out in the field by then, but you should be able to move around without too much discomfort."

His surprised expression indicated that he had forgotten all about the research center and his promise to show it to her. "That would give us something constructive to do, wouldn’t it?"

"Yes, and you promised me when I first arrived that you’d take me over there to look around. We haven’t done that yet, and I’m dying of curiosity to see what the researchers were up to."

He nodded in agreement. "All right, that’s a good idea. There’s a lot to see over there." He yawned, sleepily. "Well, it’s been a pretty busy day and I’m getting tired, so I think I’ll go on up to bed."

She bit back the offer to help that immediately sprang to her tongue, knowing that it would be rejected. "Okay. I’ll see you in the morning."

"Good night."

Slowly, using the arms of the chair for leverage, he struggled to his feet, and made his way up the stairs.

Ellie remained behind. She couldn’t count on a herd of dinosaurs coming through the compound each day, so she knew she was going to have to try to think of things to help keep him occupied for the next week or so to help alleviate his boredom. There was still some hamburger meat, chicken parts, and steaks in the freezer. Perhaps she could coax him into mastering the grill near the back door, provided the old bags of charcoal were still viable. And there was always film footage to be catalogued and viewed. And as a last resort, there were a few board games upstairs that they could play. With a little creativity, she could help the time pass for him.

TWENTY TWO

Over the next two weeks, the pain in Alan’s back gradually abated, first to a dull ache, and then finally faded away so completely that he rarely noticed it unless he made a movement that placed pressure on the rib area. He was now ready to take some small steps in the direction of returning to the field, and they would begin with the trip to the research facility.

There had been no more animal sightings near the dormitory. An occasional haunting cry from the jungle indicated that animals were nearby, but none passed through the immediate area.

To keep busy during those two weeks, Ellie spent much of her time cleaning and baking. Using her vivid imagination, she created wonderfully tasty snacks and treats that were met with hearty approval by Alan. By contrast, his time was spent editing the tapes he had shot, pouring over his notes, revising and editing them. And finally, using a new notebook, he started writing the text for his next book in longhand, a detailed chronicle of his time on the island and the animals he encountered. Ellie offered to type up the draft and to edit his work when they returned home. Unlike his previous books, which had been illustrated with drawings and diagrams, this book would contain actual photographs of the dinosaurs he was writing about, guaranteeing that it would be a best seller on the basis of that fact alone.

Finally, at the end of the second week, Alan announced over breakfast that he was fit enough to make the hike over to the research center to show Ellie the facility and everything it contained, so after putting away the dishes, Ellie started gathering up the cameras and film to take with them.

"I doubt if we’ll need those," Alan objected. "I’ve been there several times, and I’ve already taken quite a few photographs of the building and everything of importance that’s inside it."

"You never know when something new is going to pop up," Ellie said. "Remember the herd of Protoceratops. We might encounter something interesting just crossing the yard. It’s always best to be prepared."

Alan smiled. "You’re starting to sound like me," he said. "You’re going to have to watch that! I used to always drill that into my students, to always be aware that the most important finds might occur when they least expect it, and may even initially appear insignificant." He paused with a distant expression on his face, and Ellie knew that he was missing the summers he had spent on dig sites. "Okay, we’ll take the cameras."

He placed the 35 mm camera and one of the video cameras inside his backpack along with an extra roll of film and an unwrapped video tape, and then hoisted it onto his back, but because it was positioned directly over his injury, he was unable to comfortably wear it. He slipped it off, shaking his head. "I can’t wear this. We’ll have to just carry them."

"I’ll carry it," Ellie offered. "It isn’t that heavy, anyway. The cameras are both small."

Alan slipped the pack straps over Ellie’s shoulders, much they way he would have helped her into a coat. "Okay, are we ready?"

"Yep."

The air smelled clean and refreshed when they emerged from the dormitory early in the morning. Beads of moisture clung to the grass, and water from a mild rain shower the previous day had collected in puddles in low areas. Cirrus clouds floated lazily across the brilliant blue sky. Humidity was high with traces of ground mist still blanketing the valley floor with ribbons of wispy fog. The mist and the water puddles would soon evaporate under the brightly glowing orb that shown its radiance on the island, and as the two humans made their way across the compound toward the research facility, Ellie thought the morning was very picturesque, like a picture out of a scenic calendar.

"I wish I had brought my own camera just for scenery shots," she said, admiring the beauty of the tropical landscape. "I didn’t even think about bringing it when I starting planning on this trip. I went over to the house to get my summer clothes, and I could easily have grabbed the camera while I was there."

"Feel free to use mine," Alan told her.

"You’re sure you wouldn’t mind?" she asked, hesitantly, eager to take the pictures, but worried that she would run him short of film if she accepted the offer.

He stopped, and turned to face her. "Ellie, you don’t need to ask me if anything is all right. You know I don’t mind. I have plenty of film, and if we need more I’ll just have Miguel bring some on his next supply drop."

She felt her cheeks heat up and she lowered her gaze, as if ashamed. "I’m sorry. Habit, I guess."

He moved behind her, unzipped the backpack and reached into it. He rummaged around until he found the 35 mm camera, and withdrew it. "You don’t have to ask my permission to use anything of mine. Hell, you probably know more about using them than I do!"

She saw the slight smile that turned up the corners of his mouth as he thrust the camera into her hand. While she selected the shots she wanted to take, he zipped the pack back up. She took several pictures of the ground fog and the sun’s rays which looked like they could have been spotlights from heaven as they cut through the fog. Then they resumed their walk to the research center. Following an artificial path made of flat native stone that had been laid down by the construction crew many years earlier, they entered the grove of trees that separated the hatchery center from the dormitory.

It was a lovely scenic walk, but Ellie was aware of the fact that the dense trees and shrubs could be concealing a hidden danger behind each of the nodding fronds. She crowded close behind the paleontologist.

"Obviously, they didn’t consider that it might eventually be dangerous to pass through a grove like this on the way to work each morning," Alan commented, pushing aside the foliage with his hand as they proceeded along the path, maintaining a typically alert posture.

"So the animals were not always free roaming?"

"No. Given the high mortality rate among infants, they wouldn’t want to risk losing healthy adults to predators. There are a few sturdy paddocks around the area behind the facility, possibly exercise pens, but most of the island is pristine. Also, some of the species were confined in their own facility, apart from this one. For instance, the Pteranodons were housed at a huge center at the river, probably bred and cared for by their own group of geneticists."

"Then why did they build safety bunkers in various locations around the island?"

"Precautionary, I guess. The possibility for escape had to be very high, considering the types of animals they were breeding. They needed to keep them confined to be transported to the Park when they were ready, but I would expect that they had an occasional escapee. Or, after the demise of the park on Isla Nublar, it could be they were considering the idea of moving the park to this island."

"Now that is a scary thought," Ellie said. "After the mistakes they made over there, how could they even consider the idea of another park?"

"Well, we know that they kept this research facility active for a while after the incident at the Park, until the hurricane shut them down. They wouldn’t have kept it in operation unless they had some plans for it."

There were a variety of buildings in the compound, most of them small and unremarkable, easily concealed within the naturally growing foliage. They passed a second generator shed, which obviously had supported the hatchery building, as well as a storage shed and a safety bunker, which was similar in appearance to the one on Isla Nublar, where she had taken shelter with Hammond and Malcolm.

Finally, they passed through the grove of trees and shrubs, and the research center came into full view for the first time.

The primary structure was the huge warehouse that served as the main facility. The higher portions of its roof were visible from the rooftop deck of the dormitory over the tops of the tall trees, but its sprawling configuration was much larger than Ellie had ever imagined.

"Alan, it’s huge!"

"You should see it from the top of the rise over there," he told her, pointing to the incline. "That’s where we came out of the jungle last summer, and believe me, it gives a much better view of just how big this facility is. It takes up a large portion of the valley."

"I never imagined it could be so large!"

"I know. I never took you this close to it. We always entered the jungle from the dormitory area, and you can’t see much of it from there. I’ll have to take you up to the rise and show you what it looks like from there."

They had approached the research center from the side, but Ellie observed the exterior walls with interest, eager to view the secrets it held within the vast expanse of rooms. From Alan’s description of it, she had assumed it to be a typical rectangular shaped warehouse, but as she looked at the building’s design, she saw that it was anything but that. It was irregular in shape, with various rooms and corridors jutting off from the main structure. It contained many ventilation windows along the sides, all yellowed and dirty. A few were shattered, but she realized that the damage was probably not caused by the animals. More likely, hurricanes and severe weather had broken the glass with flying debris.

As they came around the corner to the front of the facility, Ellie abruptly pulled up short, staring in astonishment at the destruction that littered the area in front of the hatchery, spoiling the scenic beauty of the island, and reminding them in vivid detail that humans and their mechanical creations were vulnerable to the savagery of nature.

As there were no permanent roads on the island, there was also no asphalt parking lot in front of the research center, but the vehicles used by the researchers were still parked near the building. Cars and trucks littered the grassy field, all of them showing severe damage to their rusted shells. Large dents were visible on the doors, hoods, and fenders, and most of the windows had been shattered. All of the tires were flat. Some had been overturned.

"What happened here?" she asked, turning shocked eyes to Alan, who had been watching her silently as she observed the devastation. On impulse, she lifted the camera to her eye and snapped several pictures to record the event, even though she assumed that Alan had probably already done so.

"The report provided by Mr. Hammond says it was caused by the same hurricane that forced the evacuation," he replied as they proceeded toward the parking area for a closer look at the vehicles. He indicated a tree limb that had been driven through a windshield. "The damage is consistent with a violent storm, so there’s no reason to think otherwise. I did find some human bones in the jungle near here, though, but there is no indication that it had anything to do with the evacuation."

"Human bones?"

"Yeah, but only parts: a skull, a femur, part of a spine."

"What do you think happened?"

He shrugged. "Impossible to say for sure. We know there have been unauthorized people on this island over the years, people who have disappeared without a trace, so it could be one of them. I put the bones in a plastic bag and buried them over there." He gestured toward a small wooden cross that he had constructed out of respect. "I’ll report it to Hammond. I don’t know if he’ll want to make that information public, but if anyone in his staff was missing, they can do DNA testing to identify him."

Ellie gazed at the crude wood cross, and smiled, fondly. "You always do the right thing."

"Well, I just hated leaving him out there to the elements. There were tooth marks on the bones, so there is no doubt that they have seen animal activity. I was unable to find the rest of the skeleton."

The entire area contained an eerie quality, and Ellie felt a shiver of vulnerability as they walked across the yard toward the vehicles. She kept expecting to see a raptor or a T-Rex around every corner. "Do the carnivores ever come around here?" she asked, nervously.

"I’ve never seen any, but that doesn’t mean they never do. Just stay alert, and we’ll be fine."

As they neared the cars, Ellie noticed that more than one vehicle displayed slashes in the paint that was consistent with the appearance of claw marks. All of them had broken windows and slashed tires. Pausing to peer through one broken window, she saw torn upholstery, slashed carpeting, cracked dashboards, and, most astonishing of all, broken steering wheels and steering columns. They had clearly been damaged by something very powerful.

She placed her hands on the door of one windowless car, and gazed inside at the destruction. "It looks almost like a revolt," she commented.

"I was thinking the same thing," Alan agreed.

Turning away from the vehicles, they approached the front facade of the research facility, and walked up the shallow steps to the veranda. Before them, the doorway gaped open, a large square aperture in the front wall, and above it were the words: Embryonics Administration. The double glass doors, remarkably still intact, were standing open, so they passed through the opening into the reception area.

Sunlight streamed in through the picture windows that enclosed the reception area on three sides, many of which were shattered. The tile floor was saturated with muddy rainwater; and leaves, twigs, and broken tree limbs littered the floor. Some of the limbs were bare or contained shriveled leaves, indicating that they had been driven inside by previous storms, weeks, months, or even years earlier.

The receptionist’s workstation was a large space surrounded by a long curving counter made of Formica, and a useless telephone sat atop the counter. Behind it, the desk contained the usual supplies and equipment necessary for efficient office function: pens and pencils, paper tablets, now deformed and yellowed with age and exposure to the elments, a broken computer, calculator, and a switchboard. All were ruined by the elements.

Ellie took it all in with interest, recognizing the fact that the extravagance was obviously intended to impress. "Everything is top of the line," she commented. "This all must have been really impressive in its day. Pretty high class, considering the fact that they surely were not expecting clients or customers to drop by, since the theme park itself was on Isla Nublar. Why spend this much money on appearance for the research facility, when the showcase was on Isla Nublar?"

Alan smiled, impressed as always by her attention to details. "That is true, but I’m sure they wanted to present a nice appearance for their investors and the board of directors, who probably would have been invited to tour the facility on occasion, to view the operation first hand. Remember John Hammond’s favorite phrase? ‘Spared no expense’."

She smiled and nodded, recalling with fondness the words of the elderly Scotsman. "He did have an inclination for purchasing only the best of everything, didn’t he? I have to admit, though, I really like Mr. Hammond."

"So do I."

He guided her through the door behind the reception area into a corridor, passing a bank of damaged vending machines. Ellie stopped to look curiously at the candy machines.

"Don’t tell me the dinosaurs were sampling the candy," she said, indicating the hole in the front of one of them.

Alan chuckled. "No, Billy put his foot through it last summer to get to the candy. The trip was only supposed to have been an aerial fly-by, so we didn’t have any supplies with us. Stale candy was all we could find to eat. Not very appetizing, I might add, but when you have no other meal prospects, you’ll take it and be grateful for it."

A wrecked coffee maker stood in the corner, its fragile glass coffee pot shattered into pieces on the floor, and between the vending machines was the water dispenser. The upended plastic bottle was still in place, but time had evaporated the water.

Alan gestured toward an open doorway at the end of the corridor. "The administrative offices are back there. I’ve been through all the desks and file cabinets, but there really isn’t much of interest. Just personnel records, purchase orders and requisitions for lab equipment, that type of thing."

Ellie moved closer to the door and gazed down the narrow corridor. Three open doors lined one side of the corridor which would be the offices Alan had spoken of. The other side was a solid wall, decorated with generic pastel floral paintings. She could see the edges of carpeting that peeked through the open doors. "Are the offices as elaborate as the reception area?"

"More so," he replied. "Carpeted floors, solid oak desks, state of the art computers. You name it, they had it." He pointed toward a wider doorway directly ahead that obviously led deeper into the building. "The actual research area is back this way."

Continuing onward from the vending machines, they emerged onto the upper level of the large warehouse area. Below them, down a long open-backed staircase, was the research and hatching facility. From the depth of it, she knew that the lower half of the research area was constructed below ground level as a natural cooling system. She folded her arms across the top of the railing and gazed over the edge. Though devoid of life, she could almost imagine what it must have been like during the peak of its production, with geneticists and researchers milling about, conducting the work they had been hired to do.

Long ribbons of daylight filtered into the building through the rows of dirty windows on either side of the hatchery, providing sufficient light to view the myriad of objects that were scattered around the enormous space. Dominating the room were the dozens of circular incubators stood in long rows, testimony to the large-scale operation that had been conducted there.

"We should have realized that the facility on the other island was too undersized to accommodate the large scale breeding operation they were conducting," Alan told her, watching her as she continued to observe the equipment below them. "Looking back, there should have been other infants besides the one baby raptor that just happened to be hatching while we were there. We saw no adolescents, no nursery facilities, only the one incubator. It was all for show, and we were all so overwhelmed that we accepted it without considering that the size of it was all wrong."

Ellie nodded. "You’re right. It was small, compared to this. I’m a little overwhelmed right now by all of this," she admitted. "I never expected anything this vast."

He gestured toward the stairs. "Let’s go down."

They descended the stairs into the heart of the hatchery. Like the reception area, the floor was littered with leaves and twigs blown through the broken windows, and everything was covered by a fine layer of dust.

Moving toward the rows of incubators, she examined the nearest one with interest. The glass lids of many of them had been left up, and most contained the remnants of the final hatching in the form of broken eggshells. Each one contained shallow depressions to hold each egg individually. "They had the capability here of populating the whole world with dinosaurs!"

He nodded. "That is a sobering thought, isn’t it? If it wasn’t for the high mortality rate, there’s no telling how many they could have manufactured."

Something crunched beneath Ellie’s shoe, and she looked down to discover that the floor was also littered with eggshells that had fallen from the incubators. She knelt and picked one up, turning it over in her hand to study it. It was dry and brittle.

"Did these eggs hatch before or after the evacuation?"

"Good question," Alan said. "I would say that they probably hatched before and they just didn’t have time to clean up the litter before the evacuation, since the babies would have been trapped inside the glass domes of the incubators."

Ellie nodded. "I hadn’t thought of that. I was just imagining a mass exodus of newly hatched dinosaurs."

"Take a look at this."

She moved closer to him. He was standing beside an incubator with a closed lid, but looking closer, she saw that a portion of the lid had been shattered. "Alan, that’s incredible!" Looking around, she saw several other closed lids that demonstrated the same damage. "Then some of them did hatch after the evacuation and they managed to break out?"

"I’m afraid that is only remotely possible. More likely, a hungry carnivore, such as a raptor, probably shattered the lids to get to the eggs."

She sighed with disappointment. "You just spoiled my image of all these baby dinosaurs escaping from the incubators after everyone had left and scurrying up the stairs to freedom."

He smiled. "That would have been a sight," he agreed. "Unfortunately, being practical, I doubt that a hatchling would have the strength to break the glass."

"Yeah, you’re probably right." She moved away from the incubators to view the other objects in the room.

Clipboards, test tubes, microscopes, and other scientific objects remained on the long stainless steel tables, where they had been left the day of the evacuation. A lab smock, once spotless white but now dirty and stained, was draped over the back of a chair, a chilling reminder that its owner had departed in haste. Grasping the lapel, she turned it so that she could see the name that was embroidered in decorative stitching: Stevens. She could not help but wonder what had become of him. Probably, he had evacuated with the others and was now either still employed by InGen in some capacity, or had found occupation elsewhere.

Impulsively, she pulled open the large drawers beneath one of the tables. It contained glass slides, microcentrifuge tubes, beakers, Petri dishes, and test tubes, necessary items for the proper function of any laboratory, plus large syringes and clear plastic hoses used as feeding tubes for the newly hatched infants. All had been meticulously arranged, and most were still intact, but dust and grime had filtered into the drawers, rendering them unfit for use without proper cleaning. She pushed the drawer closed again, and was startled by the slam that echoed through the cavernous building.

"A bit jumpy?" Alan teased, covering the fact that he had flinched in reaction to it as well.

"This place gives me the creeps," she admitted with a shudder.

"You should try being here by yourself. Every sound made my hair stand on end!"

"Given the length of it, that must have been a sight!" she teased.

"It was! Lifted my hat right off my head!"

She smiled at his sense of humor as she proceeded toward the large cylindrical glass containers holding the preserved remains of some of the beasts, and observed the small bodies with a combination of curiosity and revulsion. "They were preserving them in chemical solutions?" she asked.

"Yes. I’ve photographed and catalogued all of them according to species. Most appear to be infant deaths that were preserved, I presume, for research purposes." He reached out to take her hand. "Come on. There’s more."

Wondering what other surprises were lurking in the shadowy corridors of the research facility, Ellie submitted to his tug on her hand and followed him through another doorway at the far end of the hatchery. They made several turns through the maze of corridors, and finally, Alan entered an area that bore an unsettling resemblance to a prison block.

Lining the walls on either side of them were cages constructed of sturdy reinforced steel. The floor was smooth concrete, sloping slightly toward the front with guttering to allow the individual cages to be cleaned by spraying them with a pressure hose. The hose itself was coiled on the wall beside the water faucet. The floor in several of the cages was covered with musty straw that had apparently been used as bedding for whatever had been contained there, and in the aisles rainwater had collected in puddles. Looking up, Ellie saw that the skylight which permitted sunlight to enter the room had been broken, presumably by one of the many storms that had occurred on the island.

Turning her attention back to the cages, she placed her hands on one of the steel enclosures. "It looks like a kennel or a stable," she commented.

"That’s exactly what it was," Alan told her. "These were the holding pens where the animals were kept prior to their relocation to Jurassic Park. Look here," he added, opening a door beside the pressure hose. Hanging on pegs on the side walls of the closet were various methods of restraint, including shackles, chains, shock sticks, and iron collars. On the shelves were dozens of bottles of various tranquilizers and syringes, all intended to control or restrain the animals, and most likely, to euthanize those which were ill or which had been deemed uncontrollable. Boxes labeled Gas Grenades were stacked on the floor. "Unfortunately, they’re all empty. Eric Kirby found them while he was here last summer," he told her. "He used all of them."

"Poor kid," Ellie said, sympathetically. "He must have been terrified."

"He’s some boy," Alan admitted.

A pistol, rusted and rendered useless by the damp climate, lay on a shelf beside the ammunition. Obviously, it was a last resort method of protecting the human researchers in the event of an escape by one or more of the animals.

Alan cast a regretful look at the pistol, longing for a useful weapon with which to protect himself. "I felt a brief moment of jubilation when I saw that gun," he confessed. "I examined it and tried to clean it, but I couldn’t make it useable."

"Why didn’t you bring a gun with you? Malcolm’s expedition had weapons."

"I wanted to, but the Costa Rican government would not permit me to enter the country with one. I came in by plane, and Malcolm and his party came in by boat, so it was easier to get through with weaponry. Mark argued the extenuating circumstances on my behalf, but they were a little jittery at the idea of a foreigner carrying a gun."

"So, did they keep the animals shackled and chained inside the cages?"

"More likely, they were used as restraints during transport. Come on, there’s something back here that I want you to see, something I think you’ll appreciate."

Following his beckoning gesture, she apprehensively followed him through another door at the far end of the corridor, and followed another maze of hallways and rooms until they entered yet another narrow corridor. A beautiful tapestry covered one wall, and Ellie paused to examine it.

"This is what I wanted you to see," Alan said. "It looks like its straight out of a picture book."

It was a jungle scene, depicting the ancient habitat of the dinosaurs. Various species were illustrated in vibrant colors, so lifelike that they seemed almost about to step out of the heavy cloth into the reality of the modern world.

"This is beautiful," Ellie commented, admiring the details in the setting. "This would look gorgeous on my wall at home." She placed her hand on the fabric, admiring the weave. It was dusty, but a proper cleaning could restore it to its original condition. "It’s still in really good shape, too, even after all this time."

Alan smiled. "I thought of you when I first saw it," he admitted. "I’ve only been this way once, but it gave me quite a turn to come around the corner and see all these life-like dinosaurs!"

"Alan, do you suppose John Hammond would allow me to buy this?" she asked. "It seems such a shame to let such a beautiful work of art deteriorate in this place."

"I don’t see why not. It’s just going to rot away, here. Before we leave the island, we’ll give him a call and you can ask him." Alan replied. He, too, paused to examine the tapestry, his eyes moving down the large fabric picture toward the bottom.

"Look at the detail," Ellie said, reaching out to touch one of the images on the tapestry. "I’ve never seen such beautiful artwork on fabric before."

Alan nodded. "Yes, it’s remarkable."

Finally, Ellie turned away from the tapestry, her eyes following the length of the corridor. "What’s back there?" she asked.

"Not too much of interest," he replied. His eyes continued to travel down the length of the tapestry, but at the bottom he stopped and a frown formed on his brow. "What the . . .?"

Startled, Ellie turned her head quickly to look at him, and found him staring at the bottom edge of the tapestry. "What’s wrong?" Following his gaze, she stared at the hem for a long moment, wondering what had attracted his rapt attention. Then she saw it. The cloth was moving slightly, as if pushed by a gentle breeze.

Reaching out abruptly, Alan grasped the edge of the tapestry and pulled it aside, then glanced triumphantly at Ellie.

It was a solid door, concealed behind the tapestry. It was closed, but the narrow space at the bottom, where it did not completely meet the floor, allowed a breeze to seep beneath it. A large sign at eye-level read: CLASSIFIED AREA. A card slot beside the doorknob indicated that a personnel card with the proper security clearance would be necessary to obtain access beyond that point, and the owner had likely taken it with him.

Intrigued, Alan grasped the knob and attempted to turn it.

Locked.

He cast a glance at Ellie, conceding that he had already known that it would be locked. However, he did not intend to allow that inconvenient obstruction to stop him from getting inside that room. "There’s a sledgehammer in the storage shed," he told her. "Wait here, while I get it."

Without waiting for her to reply, he started back up the corridor and disappeared around the corner.

Left behind, Ellie folded her arms and shifted nervously from one foot to the other. She leaned back against the wall behind her and attempted to pass the time by concentrating on the rich artwork on the tapestry directly across from her, but her eyes darted apprehensively from one end of the corridor to another. With the front door of the building standing wide open, the animals could come and go as they pleased. There might be something lurking inside the building at that very moment.

"Like hell!" she muttered. Raising her voice, she called, "Alan, wait! I’m coming with you!"

Hoping she could remember her way through the corridors that turned at right angles to each other, Ellie hurried after him. When she reached the kennel, she breathed a sigh of relief, certain that she could find her way through the rest of the maze. After jogging through the kennel, she caught up with him in the hatchery.

He smiled as she fell in step beside him. "You’re not afraid to stay alone, are you?"

"Yes!" she retorted. "And I’m not ashamed to admit it. I don’t see how you tolerated being here alone for all that time! It would have driven me stark-raving mad! Not to mention the fact that I probably would have gotten lost in that gerbil run back there!"

He laughed at her description of the hallways. "Yeah, they do take a lot of twists and turns."

Together, they trotted up the steps, made their way back through the reception area, and outside into the fresh air once again.

Alan did not go to the dormitory’s storage shed, but instead, he circled the hatchery and pulled open the door of the nearer shed. Leaving Ellie at the door, he stepped inside and she heard the clanging sounds of tools as they were haphazardly tossed aside in search of the desired sledgehammer.

"Aha!" he said, triumphantly, emerging a moment later with the heavy tool.

With the sledgehammer in hand, Alan led the way back to the research facility. Stopping before the door, he flexed his hands and glanced at Ellie. "Better stand back. If it shatters, I wouldn’t want you to get hit."

She stepped back a few paces, holding the edge of the tapestry out of the way to provide a clear shot at the door knob. "Be careful of your ribs," she cautioned.

"Yeah," he nodded, very aware of his injury. With great care, he raised the heavy tool, and brought it down on the door knob, allowing its own weight and gravity to provide the downward motion rather than exerting any additional force behind it. The knob sliced cleanly off the door, and fell to the floor with an alarming clatter that resounded through the empty hallways.

He dropped the heavy head of the sledgehammer on the tile floor and tipped the handle against the wall, then pushed open the door with the eager expression of a scientist on the verge of a major discovery.

It was another corridor, this one darkened from lack of a skylight or windows, and eerily foreboding. It contained only two closed doors, each across from the other, before terminating in a solid wall at the end. A bio-hazard indicator was posted on the far wall.

Alan and Ellie exchanged glances.

"I take it we’re going in there," Ellie deduced.

"Was there ever any doubt?" Alan replied. He entered the shadowy passageway.

Leaving the door standing open behind her in case they needed to make a rapid escape, Ellie followed.

Stopping before the twin doors in the corridor, Alan looked from one to the other, apparently trying to decide which one he wanted to open first. Finally, he turned to his left and grasped the doorknob.

Ellie clutched his arm, stopping him. "Alan, be careful."

He turned to look at her, surprised. "Ellie, anything in this room that might have been alive at one time has been dead for years."

"If it was trapped, yes, but a breeze was moving that tapestry, so that means there is a window in one of these two rooms, and it may have let something inside."

He placed comforting hands on her shoulders. "You’re just spooked."

"Damn right I’m spooked," she admitted, glancing nervously over her shoulder.

Alan turned back to the door, and took hold of the knob again. It turned with a "click", and he pushed it open.

The room was dusky, for the only window was a ventilation grill with a fan, now in the off/closed position. Ellie crept close against him, and he felt her body shudder in revulsion.

It was the incinerator room. A huge furnace dominated the room against the outer wall, its yawning combustion chamber now cold and silent. The huge exhaust stack rose up through the reinforced fireproof ceiling. The chamber door was standing open, revealing the ashes and chunks of bones of whatever creature had last been cremated there.

Curiously, they moved into the room to view the other objects. Hanging from various sized hooks on a large pegboard were surgical saws, hand-axes, and knives, apparently used to dismember animals too large to fit inside the incinerator. Most disturbing of all was the chainsaw that had obviously been used to dismember the larger animals into pieces small enough to fit into the incinerator, a gruesome job for whoever had the task. A drain in the middle of the sloping concrete floor was intended to carry away the water whenever the floor was hosed down, but obviously there had been no time to carry out that final chore, for the concrete beneath their feet was stained with flaking puddles of dark, rust-colored blood that had dried years ago. Hanging on a peg on the wall was a jump suit and a helmet with a visor, obviously used to protect the wearer’s clothing from the spray of blood and flesh that was certain to erupt as the chainsaw performed its duty.

Ellie turned astonished eyes to the man who stood beside her, observing her reaction. "I don’t understand. Instead of using this, why didn’t they just feed the remains of the dead animals to the live ones?" she asked, gesturing toward the incinerator. "Surely that would have saved on their feed costs. I mean, the cost of feeding the carnivores alone would be a major expense, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t they have done better to recycle what they had available?"

"I’ve wondered about that as well, and the only thing I can come up with is that some of them died of disease or unidentifiable causes. They couldn’t feed the diseased animals to the healthy ones for fear of infecting them as well, so they obviously burned the carcasses."

She nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that makes sense." Curiously, she moved toward the chamber, gazing at the blackened ashes that were piled inside it, wondering what species it had been. A small black claw was lying in the ashes, and she picked it up, but could not identify the species it had come from.

"Most zoos and large animal exhibits have incinerators," Alan told her. "That, in itself, is not remarkable. They had to have some method of disposing of the carcasses of diseased animals. It’s just one more link in this twisted chain of genetic tampering. I don’t know why; it’s just something I didn’t expect to find here."

Ellie tossed the claw back into the ashes and moved toward the door. "Let’s get out of here."

"We have to document this," he reminded her. "It’s a good thing you insisted we bring the cameras, or we would have had to go back to the dorm." He removed the cameras from the backpack, while Ellie opened the vent to allow a small square of light into the room. "You take the 35 mm camera, and I’ll work the camcorder," he suggested.

She nodded. "Okay."

While he turned on the power on the camcorder and slowly panned the room, Ellie turned on the flash and began photographing each of the gruesome items it contained, including the chainsaw, positioning the shot so that it also contained the bloodstained floor and the drain.

"How could anyone stand carrying out a job like that?" Ellie wondered.

"Some people have stomachs that are a lot stronger than ours," Alan agreed. He lowered the camera, but did not return it to the backpack. They still had one more room to investigate and document. "Let’s see what’s in the other room."

Moving across the hall, Alan opened the door and pushed it open.

Illuminated by the narrow beams of sunshine that entered through glass ventilation windows near the ceiling, the room bore an unsettling resemblance to a morgue. Large halogen surgery lamps were suspended from the ceiling over the stainless steel tables which were set up in two neat rows, end to end, and on several of those tables were the remains of the animals that had been in the process of autopsy or dissection at the time of the evacuation. Time had reduced the remains to skeletal, some with dried, leathery skin stretched over the bones. A row of vaults lined one wall, and a desk and several file cabinets occupied the short wall at the end.

Various tools and scientific equipment lay in the open, covered with a layer of dust. Scalpels, forceps, scales to measure height and weight, syringes, and other tools lay where they had been left years earlier. More glass jars, similar to those in the hatchery, stood lined up on shelves against the wall, displaying dinosaur embryos at varying stages of development.

Separating, Alan and Ellie walked slowly around the room, examining the items and the remains with the eyes of experienced scientists. Ellie immediately began snapping photographs of the small skeletons, but Alan was so mesmerized that he temporarily forgot all about the camcorder that was clutched in his hand.

"It’s an autopsy room," Alan said, softly, his eyes falling upon the skeletal remains of an infant raptor. It was very small, probably a hatchling.

A 3-ring binder lay open on the table beside it, its pages yellowed and curling from age and the elements. Alan paused briefly to read the information that had been documented, laying the video camera down on the table beside it to free his hands.

"Very thorough autopsy documentation," he told her. He thumbed through the pages, looking at the previous entries. "They were keeping life records of each individual animal, noting its health, illnesses, food specifications, and rate of growth. Looks like all species were subject to high infant mortality rates."

Leaving the notebook as he had found it, he proceeded to the bank of stainless steel vaults that lined one wall. They were all numbered, but contained no other identifying labels. Grasping the handle of the nearest one, he opened the square door and pulled out the drawer, revealing the remains of an infant Tyrannosaurus Rex that had been stored inside the formerly refrigerated vault, awaiting autopsy. "Remarkable."

Ellie joined him at the drawer to observe the remains. Carefully, she picked up one of the tiny arm bones that protruded through the cracked, leathery skin, dried by the passage of time, and turned it in her hands, examining it intently as if surprised by the lightness of it. "It seems so strange," she said at last, "to see dinosaur bones that are not fossilized. They’re as fragile as those of any other animal." She returned the bones to their original position, stepped back, and snapped a photograph of it. "They were obviously conducting autopsies. But why?"

He shrugged. "Anatomical studies, analyzing the possible causes of the infant mortality rate, or any number of other reasons."

"Why was it considered so classified that they kept the door locked and hidden?"

"That’s a good question. Possibly to keep the results from falling into the hands of potential competitors, but that’s pure speculation. We know that there was at least one other group of geneticists who were interested in this project, and who would have benefited from the discoveries made here. I also doubt that they wanted any investors who might be touring the facility to wander into this area during an autopsy."

She laughed, softly. "Yeah, that would have provided quite an eye-opener to anyone who came in here unaware, not to mention being splattered by the chainsaw across the hall!"

Alan slid the drawer back into place and closed the vault door. He glanced around the room at the file cabinets that lined the short wall and the small office desk that faced them. Compared to the offices and furnishings in other parts of the building, they seemed small and unremarkable, designed for functionality rather than appearance. The identification panel on the desk read: Doctor Gerard L. MacFarland, PhD.

"The answers to some of our questions may be inside those files or in that desk. Something tells me that this MacFarland was one of the more important individuals here."

"Why do you say that?" Ellie asked, curiously.

"Look at his desk and file cabinets. He wasn’t interested in fancy offices or decorations, like those fools in the offices up front. He wasn’t here to put on a show. This man was a scientist. He was here to discover facts, and judging by that notebook over there, it appears he was trying to find out what was causing the high mortality rate."

Irresistibly drawn to the animals that had been awaiting autopsy, he moved to the next vault and opened it. A young Spinosaurus lay inside.

"Another Spino," he commented, tracing his fingertips over the leathery sail that ran down the creature’s back. It was dried and shriveled, held together by the spines that stood up on its back.

"I wonder how many they tried to create." Ellie said as she stepped closer to view the species she had only seen once while fleeing from its massive jaws. The specimen that lay on the slab was about four feet tall from the claws on its hind legs to the top of its head. Tentatively, as if expecting to be bitten if she disturbed it, she peeled back the dried lips to touch the long, sharp teeth that filled the elongated snout.

He shook his head. "I don’t know. I haven’t found any documentation on that." Moving to the next vault, he opened it up. Unlike the other animals, this body was covered with a sheet. "That’s strange," he mumbled as he pulled the drawer fully open. Grasping the edge of the sheet, he yanked it back to reveal the creature beneath it --– and leaped back with uncharacteristic fright.

"Ahh!" he exclaimed, his startled exclamation echoing in the silence of the room.

Ellie rushed to the drawer to see what had so affected him, and felt her heart leap into her throat. "Oh, my God!"

The body in the drawer was human.