Author's note: elements of this story were derived from the novel,
movie, and video game versions of "Jurassic Park."

EXTINCTION

By Bruce R. Jividen © 1994

It was broiling hot in the desert badlands of eastern Utah; the summer sun felt like fire on Scott Hayden's neck as he and twelve other college students crouched around a crag in the Gaston quarry, gingerly excavating an adult Allosaurus. Sweat dripped from Scott's forehead as he brushed dirt off the delicate fossil. These working conditions were less than ideal, but in Utah, dinosaurs had to be excavated in the heat of the summer when the days were long and the weather was good. A shiver of excitement went through Scott as he realized that he was looking at something that had been buried in the ground for over a hundred million years. Back then, before the birth of the Rocky Mountains, this area had been a vast, tropical flood plain, in the Triassic and Jurassic periods. With the dawn of the Cretaceous period came the birth of the mountains and a gradual but inexorable change in the climate of the region. By the end of the Cretaceous, the flood plain was gone. So were the dinosaurs.

"Very good," Professor Burton said, monitoring Scott's efforts. "One of the best-preserved phalanxes I've ever seen."

Scott gulped a bit, hoping he wouldn't carelessly damage such a prize. Even though fossils were made of stone, they were extremely fragile, and started to erode as soon as they were exposed. The dilemma of all fossil excavations was to get the fossil out of the ground as quickly as possible before it began to decay, and yet dig it out as carefully as possible so it wasn't damaged. It had been a good summer of prospecting for Dr. Burton and his students so far, and it was only July. They had discovered bones from several Allosaurs and Astrodons, and now they had found this Allosaurus, which appeared to be virtually complete. Even the delicate foot and tail bones had fossilized.

"What do you make of this, Dr. Burton," Jennifer Mitchell said. She was a tall, pretty girl with long blonde hair. A student in one of the professor's other classes, Scott had not seen her before this trip, but his interest in her was increasing.

Burton crouched down to observe what she was working on. It was one of the Allosaur's ribs, and it had a peculiar notch in the side of it. "Most interesting," he said. "It appears to have been cut."

Scott picked up a small pick and gingerly chipped sandstone away from the vicinity of the Allo's left hind leg. A larger chunk of rock than he expected came loose and dropped away, exposing a new fossil. Scott stared at it for a long moment, trying to comprehend the magnitude of what he was seeing. "Oh my God," he finally gasped.

Burton, Mitchell and the others gathered around him, peering over his shoulder to see what he had found. There, black under the brilliant sunlight, was an enormous fossilized claw, six inches long. "Utahraptor," Burton said. "No doubt about it. Nothing else could have a claw that size."

Raptors were among the most intelligent and vicious of all dinosaur predators, hunting in packs and taking down prey many times their size with their razor-sharp foot claws. The most famous of them, Deinonychus, had been discovered many years ago, along with its relatives, Oviraptor and Velociraptor. But the biggest, baddest raptor of them all had lived right here in the Utah swamplands, feeding on the huge herds of Astrodons that grazed here.

"This is incredible," Burton said. "It is possible this raptor was in a fight to the death with the Allo, and neither of them lived."

"That would explain the slash on the Allo's rib," Jennifer said.

"It would indeed," the Professor said. "Congratulations, Scott. There are only three known specimens of Utahraptor. This will make four."

"I think we should name it Scott," Jennifer said, smiling at Scott, her forehead gleaming with perspiration.

"It is customary to name a particular dinosaur after its discoverer," Burton said. "If it's the first one of its kind, the discoverer even gets to name its genus." Most dinosaurs had Latin-derived names, but some were named after people or places... including Utahraptor. "Thank you, Scott," the Professor continued, smiling broadly. "You've just made this the happiest summer dig of my life."

"I'll trade you my Velociraptor for your Troodon," nine-year-old Tim Murphy said to his friend Joseph.

"Okay," Joseph said in delightment. He didn't know what a Troodon was anyway, but Velociraptor was ultra-cool. It would be awesome to have a killer claw like that, Joe thought. Then my mom wouldn't dare tell me to clean my room. "Why don't you want the Velociraptor?" he asked, as the boys traded dinosaur fact cards.

"I hate 'em," Tim said, wishing he could tell Joe why. But the other boy would never believe that he'd seen real Velociraptors. I'd be called the biggest liar that ever lived, Tim thought. Troodon was more like his kind of dinosaur. It was a lethal pack hunter like Velociraptor, but it was even more intelligent. Some paleontologists believed it was the most intelligent dinosaur that ever lived. Tim smirked; Joe didn't realize he was giving away a card as good as the one he was getting. He shuffled the card into his collection of more stellar dinosaur luminaries like Stegosaurus, Triceratops, Apatosaurus and Maiasaura.

"I think raptors are cool," Joe said. "I want your Styracosaurus," he added wishfully.

"No way," Tim said. With all those horns poking out around its head, Styracosaurus was the coolest, baddest-looking dinosaur of all. Especially since all those horns were on a bony frill on the dinosaur's head, perfectly balanced on its neck—which meant it could whip those horns around in any direction in a split-second. Even raptors or a Troodon would think twice about messing with a Styracosaurus, Tim thought, wishing his grandfather had cloned some of them for Jurassic Park. He sighed and looked at the clock. It was 2pm. He sighed again, thinking, It's gonna be another boring afternoon.

The sun was hanging low in the sky when the college students stopped digging for the day. They'd carefully covered the exposed fossils with tarps, and they'd left the quarry for their camp about a mile away. There, a half dozen tents had been arranged in a circle, forming the perimeter of the camp. A couple of picnic tables flanked the fire pit in the center of the circle, and a satellite dish stood behind Dr. Burton's tent. Off to the side, a couple of the students had put up a volleyball net; half a dozen of them were playing a game. The rest were talking and eating hot dogs; there was a lot of laughter and noise.

Martin Burton was one of the youngest professors of paleontology in the world, and had an enormous following at the University of Utah. He was on the cutting edge of modern dinosaur research, which had uncovered a startling string of discoveries in the past few years. Among them was the belief that dinosaurs were probably warm blooded, and that they were more closely related to birds than reptiles. Thus, modern researchers saw dinosaurs not as slow-moving, cold-blooded reptiles, but active, warm-blooded animals. This had greatly changed the way dinosaurs were perceived.

Marty Burton was one of the most outspoken and colorful exponents of the new thinking about dinosaurs. He preferred to teach in the field instead of at the University, which is why he took all these students out into the Utah wilderness. He felt the best way to learn paleontology was to do it, and he lectured at the campfire instead of a podium. Only in winter did the weather force him, unhappily, indoors to the classroom.

Right now he was drinking a beer and having a good time with his students, more a friend than a teacher. Grunge rock was blasting out from a boom-box. Scott preferred to avoid all the carousing and sat near his tent, reading an astronomy text.

"Astronomy?" someone asked.

Scott looked up. It was Jennifer. "Yeah," he said. "It's my major. I just took this paleontology course because I needed a general science class. And I like dinosaurs, and being in the outdoors."

"Yeah, I love dinosaurs," Jennifer said. "I've always loved them for as long as I can remember. I was always dressing as dinosaurs on Halloween; my mom would sew costumes for me. The first one was a Triceratops. That was when I was three years old."

Scott grinned at her happy recollection. The camp dog wandered over to her, wagging his tail.

"Hi Barfy," she said to the mutt, which had been named after the dog in The Family Circle. She petted his head. "How's my favorite canine?" The dog licked his lips and looked up at her with longing eyes. "You old hoocher," she said. "You just want a snack." She turned to Scott as she rubbed Barfy's head. "Why Astronomy?" she asked.

"My dad sort of got me into it," Scott said. "So, Jennifer"

"Please, call me Jenn. I don't like Jennifer."

"I like Jennifer," Scott replied. "It's my mom's name."

She smiled at him. "Well, you can call me Jennifer, then, but only you."

"I'm getting special treatment?" Scott asked, and smiled.

"Don't let it go to your head," she answered, walking away from him, "or anywhere else."

Great, Scott thought, I blew that.

After dinner, Tim went outside. He still had the dinosaur cards in his shirt pocket. His sister Lex was boisterously swaying in the tire swing in the back yard. Tim pretended he was a Troodon. He snuck around the house and peered around a shrub. This is the way a Troodon would hunt, he thought. It would quietly sneak up on its victim, who would not see it until it was too late and it was pouncing. Tim crept up to the tree without making a noise. Then he jumped out in front of Lex, growling and raising his hands like they were claws. She shrieked, and he grinned. But as she continued to swing and yell, Tim realized she was reacting to something behind him. He turned, and that was when he saw the men in black. One of them grabbed him and pushed a rag into his face. As he passed out, it occurred to Tim that a Troodon would never have let somebody sneak up on him like that.

Dr. Burton was excited and waved the paper around as he spoke. "When I first heard the stories, I didn't believe them, of course. Velociraptors and Procompsognathids alive in Central America? That's tabloid stuff." He showed the small crowd of students listening to him the paper; it was a fax of an x-ray. "I thought this was fake, even though it's very accurate."

Scott and Jennifer, standing next to each other, studied the x-ray. "Procompsognathus," Jennifer said.

"Haven't there been rediscoveries from the Mesozoic period?" Howard, one of the other students asked. "What's that fish—" he frowned, trying to think of the name.

"Coelacanth," Jennifer supplied. "Thought to be extinct since the Cretaceous period, until living specimens were found off the coast of South Africa."

"But Procompsognathus lived long before that," Dr. Burton said, "Over 200 million years ago."

"So it's fake," one of the other students, Vaughan, said. Scott didn't like Vaughan; he was a high-school-bully type of a guy, arrogant and vulgar.

"Yes, that's what I said. But then my colleague at the University of Denver, Professor Grant, called me and confirmed it."

All the student's mouths dropped open.

Vaughan was the first to recover. "No way," he said in disbelief.

"Living Velociraptors and Procompsognathids?" Jennifer asked.

"Yes, Jenn," Burton said. "That's why I'd like to take a few of you down to Costa Rica this weekend, to check it out."

"I hate L.A.," Dr. Alan Grant said, maneuvering the white Ford Bronco through the heavy evening traffic. "Hammond could have sent someone to pick us up."

"InGen's in Chapter 11 proceedings," Dr. Ellie Sattler reminded. "We're lucky he arranged the rental for us."

"The man's still a millionaire," Alan grumbled. "I'm sure he doesn't drive in this traffic."

"You're just not used to it," Ellie said. She was wearing a white cowboy hat, a frilly white blouse, a chic denim vest, denim skirt, and white cowboy boots. Her engagement ring flashed in the smoggy sunlight shining dully through the windows. Alan had recently proposed to her.

Alan was also wearing cowboy boots and hat, and a blue denim shirt embroidered with sequins in a star-shaped pattern. Both of them were exhausted after a long summer of digging in Montana. Despite the cloning of dinosaurs at Jurassic Park, the work of paleontology went on. Neither the achievements at the park or the disaster that closed it had been publicized, and only a handful of people knew that dinosaurs were once again roaming the Earth.

Alan was greatly concerned about the reports of dinosaur encounters coming from the outlying areas of Costa Rica. There had been numerous sightings of Velociraptors and Procompsognathids in the Central American nation, and several mysterious deaths had been attributed to dinosaur attacks. Alan did not think the dinosaurs could survive long in the wild; there were too many modern diseases and other hazards that no dinosaur was prepared to contend with. But there was always the possibility that some of them would survive, which is why he had insisted that John Hammond hold a press conference and warn the world about the possible danger.

After an inordinate amount of coaxing, the reluctant Hammond had finally agreed. He was concerned that no-one would believe their story, and he was still clinging to the hope that Jurassic Park would recover from the incident three months previous when the dinosaurs had gotten loose and killed several people. Hammond wanted to lead an expedition to the island off Costa Rica where the park was located and clean up the place, get the dinosaurs back in their paddocks, and continue building the attractions. He had admitted, grudgingly, that some of the species of dinosaurs were too dangerous to breed, but he still believed Jurassic Park was a viable enterprise. However, his primary investors, the Japanese consortium Hamaguri and Densaka, had withdrawn its support, forcing Hammond's company, International Genetic Technologies, into bankruptcy proceedings. So Hammond's plans for getting Jurassic Park back in business were on hold as he staved off creditors.

Meanwhile, the press conference was planned for this weekend. Which is how, Alan thought, we got into this traffic.

"Look at the bright side," Ellie said. "With our own vehicle, we can drive anywhere we want. We can go to Disneyland."

"I hate amusement parks," Alan grumbled.

"You lookbeautiful, dear," John Hammond said, giving Ellie a kiss on the cheek. "Wonderful news about you and Alan. Wonderful." His ruddy face beamed and his blue eyes sparkled. He looked great for a man of seventy-six.

"Thank you," Ellie said with a gracious smile. They were on the back lawn of the Hammond estate, close to the enormous rose garden. "You have a beautiful garden, John."

"Thank you my dear. It was my wife's garden. She's not with us anymore, you know. Had a heart attack seven years ago. Ah, there's Alectra now."

Ellie and Alan's faces registered astonishment as they turned and saw a miniature Apatosaurus, only a foot tall, foraging on the lawn. "How?" Alan asked.

"From the equipment we have here at InGen headquarters in L.A. It's a complete backup of the lab at the Park. We'll have an entire line of them, called 'Jurassic Park Pets.' The Apatosaurs should be in full production by next year, along with the mini Stegosaurs and Triceratops. We're only going to produce herbivores at first, but we think some of the carnivorous dinosaurs can be miniaturized and bred as tame as your common cats and dogs—even Tyrannosaurus. Now tell me, Alan, what little boy won't want to have his very own Tyrannosaur for a pet?"

Alan didn't say anything. He was entirely opposed to this sort of crass commercialization of dinosaurs. He felt that dinosaurs were already too commercialized. Millions of dollars were spent every year on dinosaur toys, but only thousands were spent on real dinosaur research. Paleontology was one of the least funded scientific fields, despite the vast public interest in dinosaurs.

"I know what you're thinking, Alan," Hammond said, reading the look in Grant's eyes. "But part of the proceeds from every Jurassic Park Pet sold will go towards the continuation of our research. You're going to be at the top of your field, Alan, because you'll have studied real dinosaurs longer than anyone else ever has."

Alan didn't look any happier. "Where is the press conference going to be held?"

"Right here, out on the lawn. We'll have Alectra as a demonstration, and you can testify that she's a real dinosaur and not a robot."

"That shouldn't be too hard to establish," Alan said dryly, visually noting several small piles of Alectra-poop on the lawn.

"Well, let's go in and have a drink, then," Hammond said. They walked inside, and one of Hammond's servants brought out champagne.

"A toast," Hammond said to Alan. "To you and Ellie. May you have a long and wonderful life together." He took a sip, and so did Alan. Hammond frowned at Ellie. "My dear, aren't you going to share in the toast?"

Ellie bit her lip, looked at Alan, and smiled. "I'm pregnant," she said.

Hammond smiled broadly. "How splendid. My, we do have a lot to celebrate tonight."

"Mr. Hammond," one of the servants interrupted. "We're getting a transmission from InGen. Dr. Wu needs to speak to you."

"Ah. Well, let's go in the other room, Drs." The three of them walked into the study, and Hammond activated the video-linkup with InGen headquarters. Dr. Wu's face filled the screen, he looked concerned.

"More trouble in the Park?" Hammond asked. He turned to Alan and Ellie. "We still have video hookups with the Park, you know. Via satellite."

"I'm patching you through," was all Wu said. The image changed, to that of a man dressed in a black shirt and black jeans. "Hello, Mr. Hammond," the man said. "I represent well, I guess it doesn't really matter who I represent, now does it?"

"I know very well who you represent," Hammond said angrily. "Lewis Dodgson and BioSyn. You've been trying to steal our secrets all along."

The man smiled a thin smile. "Then you'll be pleased to know that we've succeeded. We're in control, here at Jurassic Park. And we're finishing what you started. But you'd really spoil our fun if you went ahead with this press conference you're planning. So I'm calling to discourage you from holding it. And just to give you an incentive" The camera panned away from the manÉand onto Hammond's grandchildren.

"I assure you, no harm will come to them," the man's voice said. "If, of course, the press conference is cancelled."

Alex Cunningham leaned back in his chair in the control room at the Visitor's Center in Jurassic Park. He idly watched the video screens which allowed the control room operators to monitor the park. Lewis Dodgson's men had done an excellent job of restoring the park to near-normal operation. All the dinosaurs were back in their proper paddocks, the fences and buildings had been repaired, and Dodgson was personally continuing the genetic work on the dinosaurs. So far, he'd completed the breeding of two new species, Troodon and Utahraptor. The next tasks were "bug fixes": removing the poison from the Dilophosaurus saliva, eliminating the amphibian DNA that had allowed some of the species to change sexes and breed, and adding more color to the Tyrannosaurs. There were also many new batches of DNA to process, phylogenetic mapping indicated that there was adequate material to clone Deinonychus, Nanotyrannus, and Astrodon. Dodgson thought carnivorous dinosaurs would be the top draw at the park; they had the highest "thrill and chill" factor, so the first two were the priority. Deinonychus was another member of the raptor family, and Nanotyrannus was a small cousin of T. rex.

All very well, but Cunningham was bored. Now that he had kidnapped the two Hammond grandchildren and brought them here, there wasn't much to do. Except sit and wait. He was being well paid for this assignment, but he was a soldier of fortune. He liked things to be exciting, even a little dangerous. And now that Jurassic Park was under control, it was neither.

Right now the Hammond grandchildren were cuffed and locked in a storage closet. Cunningham had gotten tired of listening to them whimper and complain. The nerve of Dodgson, hiring him to be nothing more than a high-priced baby-sitter. He yawned. It was going to be an extraordinarily boring day.

Scott Hayden yawned sleepily, trying to wake himself. He and Jennifer, Howard, Vaughan, Professor Burton, and three other students had spent the night sleeping fitfully on the flight down to Costa Rica. They had arrived at 5am local time and were promptly transferred to a military helicopter, where Cameron Diaz, an army officer, joined them. Now they were flying west over the Pacific Ocean. Scott and the others were confused about where they were going. Burton and Diaz were having a long conversation about an island off the coast; Diaz seemed to think it was were the dinosaurs had come from. As Scott thought about it, that started to make sense to him: if these creatures had been isolated on an island, possibly for millions of years, that would explain why no-one had ever seen one until recently. It was impossible to clearly hear what Burton and Diaz were talking about over the thump-thump of the helicopter rotors, so Scott just dozed. Jennifer was next to him, and her head had slumped over onto his shoulder several times. The students were crammed into the copter and there was little elbow room.

Scott blinked the morning congestion out of his eyes and looked around. Rodriquez, the pilot, Diaz, and Burton were up front. Directly behind them, facing backwards, were Vaughan, April, and Jeremy. Vaughan was awake and looked menacing as usual. April was a pretty dark-haired girl, she was very quiet and Scott didn't know much about her. Jeremy was also dark-haired, and thin, blue-eyed, and handsome. He had his head turned; he was obviously trying to hear Burton and Diaz. On the other side of Jennifer, Howard slept noisily, snoring away. Barfy was lying on the floor; Dr. Burton had brought her along. She seemed to like Scott, and was resting her nose on his shoe.

The helicopter made a banking turn, and Scott straightened up. Ahead, the fog seemed to congeal and rise above the ocean. Palm trees and sandy beaches appeared thinly through the mist. They had reached Isla Nublar.

Then Scott heard a continuous volley of loud popping noises. He recognized the sound from TV. It was machine gun fire. The chopper spun around sickeningly and lurched. Scott saw the beach clearly through the front window. Instinctively, his hand shot into his pocket and wrapped around his sphere. The next few seconds were a confusing mixture of screams and strange noises as the helicopter fell in a heart-stopping, sudden drop. Then, an incredibly loud crunch and a flash of blue as it crashed into the sand.

As soon as the chopper was still Scott fought to loosen his seat restraints. The cockpit was full of smoke; everyone was coughing and moaning. Scott kicked the door next to him, knocking it open. It twisted and hung down from one hinge. "You okay?" he asked Jennifer.

"Yeah," she said, grunting as Scott helped her out. Howard's door was jammed and he climbed out after Jennifer, followed by Vaughan, April, and Jeremy. Diaz, Burton and the pilot climbed out through a broken door up front. Barfy jumped out behind them, barking and whining.

"Incredible," Diaz said, as he looked over the smoking, crumpled wreckage of the chopper. "It is amazing that none of us were hurt."

"Yeah, amazing," Vaughan said, with a hint of sarcasm. He was looking at Scott.

Diaz worriedly studied the line of trees at the edge of the beach. "I do not believe we are safe here," he said.

John Hammond was pacing like a tiger. "My grandchildren!" he exclaimed, for the umpteenth time. "The nerve of that Dodgson!"

Ellie and Alan sat on the couch. Ellie stifled a yawn. None of them had slept very well; they were too worried about the children. And it had been over ten hours since Cunningham's transmission from the Park.

"At least we identified the man," Hammond said. Henry Wu had been able to use the video to identify Alex Cunningham. The forty-three year old British bounty hunter and soldier of fortune had a long history of sordid terrorist work for the IRA and several Islamic dictatorships. "I'll hunt that despicable vermin down to the ends of the Earth."

Alan felt as anxious as Hammond did, but he was being more practical about it. He knew all too well that there was little—in fact nothing—they could do about it. They'd just have to wait until Cunningham called again. Then, Alan resolved, he would conduct the negotiations. After years of wrangling with University trustees, he knew how to handle difficult people. It's the waiting that kills you, he thought. Or maybe it's the not knowing. They could only hope that Lex and Tim were safe.

One of the servants appeared. "Dr. Grant? Could you look at Alectra? She's ill."

"You can see why they call this Cloud Island," Dr. Burton whispered to Jennifer and Scott, as they crept through this misty jungle. Isla Nublar—Cloud Island—was not very big. It had never been inhabited and was considered mostly useless until John Hammond purchased it from Costa Rica five yeas ago. Eight miles long and three wide, it had some twenty-two square miles of surface area. A seamount, the island was the peak of a volcanic outcropping, near the tip of the long Andes chain. In fact, part of the island was still volcanically active.

Diaz and the pilot retrieved machine guns from the wrecked helicopter and handed them out to the men, briefly demonstrating how they worked. Scott was not happy. He had never used a gun and didn't want one now. He held it by his side, thinking it was more a boondoggle than an asset. The military men and Vaughan were just the opposite; they brandished their guns like they were ready to shoot anything that moved.

"What's going on here?" Scott whispered.

"We're less than a mile from the visitor's center," Diaz said. "We'll find out then."

"What is happening on this island?" Jennifer asked.

"They are cloning dinosaurs," Diaz whispered.

"Cloning?" Burton repeated in surprise. He and his colleagues had discussed the possibility of doing just that many times. Dinosaur DNA had been recovered from some fossils, and papers had been written about cloning. It was considered theoretically possible to someday clone a dinosaur. But to hear that it had actually been done—that was flabbergasting. Burton wasn't sure he believed it.

They came to an electrified fence, and had to go under it, through a drainage pipe. It was a tight fit, but everyone squeezed through. And then Burton believed it was true, because towering over him, as big as a skyscraper, a Brachiosaur foraged, its head almost lost in the fog at the top of the trees.

"Have you got any antibiotics?" Ellie asked. "Amoxicillin or erythromycin, in liquid form?"

"Not here," Hammond said, anxiously combing his white hair with one hand. "I suppose we could get some from a pharmacy."

"What do you think?" Alan asked. Alectra was lying on her side, her little elephant-shaped feet kicking weakly. Her breaths were labored gasps.

"Respiratory infection," Ellie said. "God, I hope it isn't viral." Alectra coughed, expelling a thick discolored fluid.

"Should we take her to a vet?" Alan asked.

Ellie shook her head. "I'd suggest a pediatrician, one specializing in pulmonary medicine." She looked up at Hammond. "We'll take her, John. You stay and wait for Cunningham to call."

"This is unbelievable," Burton said. "A zoo of dinosaurs. John Hammond is a genius."

"He is anything but," Diaz retorted. "He has placed my country in great danger due to his carelessness."

"You really don't get it, do you? A dozen or more extinct species, resurrected after millions of years. This is the greatest scientific accomplishment of all time."

Diaz was unmoved. He was very alert, looking around constantly. "This island is an abomination. It should be destroyed."

Burton snorted. "Typical military thinking. Destroy what you can't control."

"Quiet doctor," Diaz said. "We are approaching the visitor's center. Rodriquez and I will go ahead to secure it."

"I'll help," Vaughan said, hoisting his machine gun.

Great, Scott thought. He can't wait to shoot something. Barfy barked, and rubbed her snout against Scott's leg. She was uneasy. So was Scott. Vaughan, Rodriquez, and Diaz moved on ahead, and Scott shuddered.

"I'm Doctor Howser," the young kid said, as he entered the Hammond mansion. He looked barely twenty, hardly old enough to be a doctor. He was the only pediatric pulmonary specialist who had agreed to make an emergency house call.

"Dr. Alan Grant," Alan said, shaking the young man's hand. "This is Dr. Ellie Sattler."

"Hi," Howser said, shaking Ellie's hand. He was wearing a funky tie and tennis shoes. "You can call me Doogie."

"This way," Ellie said.

"What have we got? Your message was kind of vague."

"You'll see why," Ellie said, as they walked outside.

"Awesome," Doogie said, when he saw Alectra. "She's real?"

"Very real," Alan said. "And very sick, I'm afraid."

Howser went right to work. After his initial reaction, he didn't seem surprised to be examining a real miniature dinosaur. He took his stethoscope out of his medical bag and listened to Alectra's chest carefully.

"Pneumonia," he said. "When did the symptoms first appear?"

"This morning," Ellie said.

"Good. We've probably caught it in time, then. Hard to tell for sure, I've never treated dinosaurs before."

"Very few people have," Alan said.

"This could be a whole area of treatment for doctors and vets," Howser said. "Mr. Hammond told me about his plans for Jurassic Park Pets. They'll need medical care, just like other pets."

"Of course," Alan said. He'd never really stopped to think of that. There were few clues about dinosaur illness and disease in the fossil record; fossilized bones rarely preserved such clues. He had studied the death of dinosaurs for so long, it was difficult to switch tracks and think about living dinosaurs.

Doogie was writing a prescription on a pad. The name said, "Alectra Hammond." He tore off the script and gave it to Ellie. "Give this E.E.S. one teaspoonful four times a day for ten days. If she's not better within two days, call me."

"Thank you," Ellie said.

"No problem. Most interesting house call I've ever made. I'm not even going to bill Mr. Hammond. He promised me one of those Stegosaurs."

Scott wandered around the control room, his eyes taking in everything. Vaughan was guarding the door, although that hardly seemed necessary. The visitor's center had been deserted. Hurriedly, it appeared. Everything was in disarray. Many of the chairs had been tipped over. A desk had been thrown on its side, possibly for a barricade. There were black burn marks on the walls.

"Taser gun discharges," Burton said. "They use them in zoos, when the big animals get out of control."

"Whatever it was, it was in here," Diaz said.

April looked around fearfully. "It could still be here."

"I don't think so," Burton said. "It must have been something big. It was here, but now it's gone."

"Are you sure?" April said. She looked like she was going to cry. She looked around slowly, and screamed.

They all whirled around, and Vaughan lowered his rifle, ready to fire. Barfy was standing in the doorway, wagging her tail. Jennifer stared at the big bone in Barfy's mouth.

It was a human femur.

Barfy led them to the body, just outside the visitor's center. The man's arms and legs were missing, as were most of his internal organs. His face was remarkably untouched. There was a startled, horrified look on it.

"No rigor," Burton said. "He probably died within the hour. Poor David."

"You knew him?" Vaughan asked.

"Yes. David Haskins, a paleontologist. He was the world's leading expert on metataxa."

"Metataxa?" Diaz asked.

"Metataxa are intermediate species," Jennifer explained. "For example, dinosaurs are intermediate between reptiles and birds."

Burton nodded.

"But what was he doing here?" Jeremy asked, holding his machine gun close to his chest.

"I don't know," Burton said. "He was studying the dinosaurs, probably, or maybe working on the cloning."

"It is very unsafe here," Diaz said.

He was right. A Utahraptor leaped out of the jungle. The attack happened with such stealth and startling speed there wasn't even time to react. Scott saw a flash of color as the big body and long, tapering tail sped by. Jeremy's gun sailed up into the air as the dinosaur snatched it and tossed it aside. Jeremy screamed as the huge claw tore into his stomach, and the dinosaur carried him off, his intestines hanging from his open gut. Blood sprayed everywhere.

"Run!" Burton yelled. "There are probably more of them!" They sprinted towards the door, all except Diaz and Vaughan, who fired at the retreating dinosaur. They hit it several times before it disappeared into the jungle, but it didn't stop or even slow down.

"Jeremy!" Jennifer cried, as they ran for the door.

"He's gone!" Burton said. "We can't do anything for him." He heard the grunts of Diaz and Vaughan behind him as they sprinted to catch up, and a high-pitched, trilling squeal. He dived through the doorway to the visitor's center and the others followed. He slammed the door shut and an enormous clawed foot slashed across the bars on the door. He locked the door, and the huge dinosaur hissed with rage, continuing to rake its foot against the door. "Utahraptor," Burton gasped. "Oh my God."

"Com'on, let's get to the control room!" Jennifer blurted. They ran, and behind them, the furious raptor tried to open the locked door with its clawed hand.

Anxiety seemed to hang thickly in the air as Burton and the others huddled in the control room. April was bawling hysterically; Jennifer was trying to soothe her without much success.

Burton had managed to get the video link to InGen operating, and Wu had patched him through to the Hammond residence.

"I'm sorry you got thrown in the middle of this mess, Marty," Alan said.

"It's not your fault," Burton answered. "In any case, I guess it's good we're here. There's been another accident."

Hammond looked very pale; the contrast of the video image almost made him look white. "Any sign of my grandchildren?"

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Hammond."

The old man sagged.

"We're trying to assemble a team, but it'll take a couple of days for us to get down there," Alan said. "Can you sit tight until then?"

"I think so," Burton said.

"That is not an option," Diaz interrupted. "I have already contacted my superiors. Within twenty-four hours there will be a full invasion force here and we will take control of the island."

Hammond perked up at that. "You can't harm the dinosaurs!"

"We will take whatever actions are necessary," Diaz snapped. "It is out of your hands, Mr. Hammond. My government is going to repossess this island."

Hammond sagged again. "My grandchildren," he whimpered.

"Mr. Diaz," Alan said. "Please do what you can to find Mr. Hammond's grandchildren."

"We will do what we can," the military officer said unconvincingly.

Across the room, Vaughan walked to Scott. "Hayden," he said, pushing Scott's shoulder.

"What?" Scott said irritably.

"Let's talk about what happened in the helicopter. What the hell was that blue thing?"

Scott scowled at him and said nothing.

"I'm not an idiot!" Vaughan snarled. "You're some kind of freak."

Jennifer came over, drawn by the commotion. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Scott said weakly. He walked away and she followed.

"I'm gonna have an eye on you, Hayden," Vaughan said to his back. Then he turned around, and his mouth dropped open.

It was amazing to see the Utahraptor just standing there outside the huge glass windows of the control room, watching them. It was so still. It was as still as a statue. The only movement was saliva dripping from his its enormous foot-long jaws. It was at least ten feet tall. It bared its teeth and its six-inch claw tapped on the ground. "Jesus," Vaughan exclaimed. He felt warmth run down his legs as he wet his pants. Then he yelled and lifted his machine gun. His arms shook as he fired, the loud rat-tat-tat of the gun was deafening. The glass shattered and fragments exploded in all directions; Vaughan felt small slivers of it cut into his face. He hit the raptor repeatedly, ragged chunks of flesh exploded and blood dripped to the floor. But the raptor didn't even flinch. It just hissed at him.

And then it hopped into the control room.

Alex Cunningham stood by the door to the visitor's lodge where he, Dodgson, and the Hammond grandchildren had taken refuge during the raptor attack. He peered through the window. Two raptors were still at the fence surrounding the lodge, but the fence was electrified. He wiped sweat from his brow. Today was not at all like yesterday. Today he had gotten as much danger and excitement as he ever wanted. In fact, it had been more than he ever wanted. They'd barely gotten away from the visitor's center with their lives.

It had been hours now, and the raptors were still waiting for them. They know we're trapped, Cunningham thought, with a shudder. They were truly ugly things. Repulsive. Hideous. One of them bared its teeth at him, almost like it was smiling, and lifted one of its rapacious claws. "How did they get out?"

"I don't know," Dodgson said, nursing a bruised shoulder. He looked past Cunningham. "They're guarding the gate."

"Do you think I don't know that!" Cunningham snapped at him. But when he turned back, the raptors were gone. He caught a glimpse of them in the fog. They were heading back to the visitor's center.

Vaughan stared open-mouthed at the raptor as it perched in front of him. There was a dazed, almost silly look on his face, like he thought he was seeing something impossible. His finger clenched the trigger of the gun. It only clicked; he had run out of ammo.

Off to his side, Howard yanked the plugs out of one of the video monitors and heaved it off the desk. He hurled it and it hit the raptor in the side of the head. The raptor blinked and its head bobbed woozily. Then it fell over on its side, crashing onto a desk, pulling computers and monitors onto the floor on top of it.

Scott and the others leaped like gazelles for the door on the opposite side of the control room. Burton reached the entrance first, he held the door open while the others darted out. Howard and Vaughan were the last; Howard was practically pulling Vaughan, who looked like he was in a trance. Howard turned his head as he stepped into the hallway, thinking one of the others was standing there. He startled as he stared into non-human eyes. The dinosaur churred, very quietly, bent over and bit his shoulder.

Vaughan sagged to the floor as Howard tried to push the dinosaur away with his hands. There was an explosion of gunfire and a shower of hot blood droplets; Diaz was firing. The dinosaur toppled, kicked for a moment, and was still. Burton studied the man-sized, blue skinned dino carefully; it was undoubtedly a Troodon. Howard screamed, and Burton and the others helped him and Vaughan down to the infirmary.

"How's he doing?" Scott asked, watching Jennifer bandage Howard's lacerated shoulder.

"I think he'll be okay. I'm gonna give him a shot of this dino-bite stuff."

"What is it?" Scott asked, as she filled a syringe from a vial.

She studied the vial. "Pentazocine, fentanyl, and sumatriptan."

"That should help him," Burton said. He was studying the toxicology manual they'd found in the infirmary. "The first two ingredients are pain-killers. The last counteracts the effects of serotonin-based dinosaur venoms."

"What about Vaughan?" Scott asked. The big student was lying on the bed next to Howard, glassy-eyed and speechless.

"I don't know," Jennifer said. "Those cuts on his face are superficial. It must be post-traumatic shock or something. He'll come out of it."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not sure of anything right now."

"Now what do we do?" Diaz asked.

"Grant said there were gas grenade launchers in the warden's office, down by the garage," Burton said. "They'll be more effective against the raptors than machine guns."

"Which means one of us has to go out there, and get them."

"I'll go," Scott said to Diaz. "You and Rodriquez stay here and guard the others."

"You're not going alone!" Jennifer protested. "I'm going with you."

"It's too dangerous," Scott said.

"No way, Scott Hayden," she said, and headed for the door. Scott dashed after her, and Diaz thrusted a machine gun into Scott's hands.

Scott ditched the gun once they were outside the room. "I don't need a gun to feel safe," he said to Jennifer. "I don't even like them."

"Neither do I," she said.

"I was hoping to get to know you better," Scott said, "but I didn't think it would be like this."

"I know," she said. They came to the stairs; they'd have to go down them to the first floor where the warden's office was. "Who goes first. You or me?"

"Me," he said, and went past her down the stairs. She followed him closely; when they got to the bottom, Scott stopped her. There, just across from them, standing in front of the door to the warden's office, was a Utahraptor.

"What do we do?" she whispered. There was no where to run.

"I don't know a lot about you," Scott answered, as he fished in his pants pocket for the sphere, "but I'm gonna trust you with my secret."

"Okay," she said, not understanding. She looked curiously at the silver ball, then watched, astonished, as it hummed and glowed blue.

Scott looked at the sphere, and then at the dinosaur. Their eyes met for a long moment. Then the raptor slinked away down the hall.

"What was that?" Jennifer asked, as Scott slipped the silver ball back into his pocket. "What did you do?"

"It's a long story," Scott began, "but I'll tell you the essence of it." They slipped into the warden's office. "I'm a metataxa, too. Intermediate between human—and alien."

She looked at him in wonderment. "Is that what you and Vaughan were arguing about?"

"Yeah," he said. "He saw me do what I just did in the helicopter. It kept us from being hurt in the crash."

"I don't get it," she said. "He looked like he was mad at you."

"A lot of people are frightened by me, because they don't understand." Scott grinned humorlessly. "Vaughan, I think he wants to kill all the metataxa. Beginning with me, probably."

Diaz was pacing. "They should have been back by now," he said, his face creased with worry.

"Relax," Burton said. "It's been quiet—"

The door flew open, and Rodriquez whipped his machine gun around.

"It's just us," Scott said, as he and Jennifer went in. He was holding two huge projectile guns; she had picked up the machine gun. "There was only two of these," he said, handing one to Diaz. "And they only have six cartridges each, so use them wisely."

Diaz nodded. "Where are you going?"

"To find Hammond's grandchildren." He looked at Jennifer. "Stay this time. Please."

"Okay," she said. He left, and she faced the inquisitive glances of the others. "Don't worry," she said, smiling with the knowledge of Scott's secret. "He'll be okay."

Scott hiked away from the visitor's center, alert for any sign of the raptors. He had slung the gas grenade launcher over his shoulder; he trusted the sphere more than he trusted it.

The first problem with finding the children was his unfamiliarity with the territory. He decided the best thing to do was find a high spot where he could do a search with the sphere. He came up to one of the long drain pipes that led away from the visitor's center. It sloped up towards the highlands at the center of the island, and Scott could see light from the other side, so he went in.

It was a long walk, and Scott had to crouch over to keep from banging his head, and there were some muddy spots, but he got through the pipe without much difficulty. A good thing about going this way was that this end of the pipe was on the other side of a fence, and Scott doubted the raptors could squeeze through the pipe. They were too big. Safe for a moment, he thought, as he jumped out of the pipe. He stretched, and that was when the shadow fell over him, and he found himself face to face with Tyrannosaurus rex.

"Scott'll never make it," April said dully to Jennifer. "We're all gonna die."

"Nonsense," Jennifer said. "The military forces from the coast will be here in a few hours." She looked at Diaz. "Right, colonel?"

"Right."

"All we have to do is sit tight until they get here," Jennifer said, stroking April's back. "We're going to be okay."

"The raptors are out there," April whimpered. "Where's Barfy? Barfy!"

"She's not here," Jennifer said. She checked on Vaughan and Howard, they were both sleeping. So was Diaz. Rodriquez was guarding the door. All they could do was wait.

Scott was frozen still in fear. He could barely breathe. The sphere was clutched in his hand, but all he could think about was the gas grenade launcher, hanging uselessly from his back. He doubted even it could slow down a seven-ton theropod.

The rex turned its head one way, then the other, looking closely at where Scott was standing. She snorted and seemed to sniff the air. Then, incredibly, she turned away and lumbered off. The ground shook with every step.

Why didn't she see me? Scott wondered. Her tail whipped around, close enough to touch. He tentatively reached out and placed his hand against the scaly skin. He was surprised by how warm it was; she was definitely hot-blooded. She cocked her head back; she must have seen him move his hand. But she didn't move, and neither did Scott, although his hand was starting to shake. He tried to force the anxiety and fear out of his mind, wondering if his growing empathic abilities would work on a huge dinosaur. Gradually, emotions began to register, although muddily, like he was trying to read a book in a thick fog. He could feel the beast's rage, a truly ferocious, primeval anger, more intense than anything else he'd ever felt—even from Fox. He could also sense she had eaten recently—that was good. Hopefully she wouldn't be in the mood for a light dessert. The swirl of sensations coalesced, and Scott froze with the realization that she knew he was there! She could feel him touching her, but still she did not move. Scott began to walk alongside her as his head burned with what she was feeling for him. The sensation was quite clear now, virtually unmistakable. It was a quite distinct feeling. It was a maternal feeling.

"My God," Scott said aloud. "She thinks I'm a Tyrannosaur. She thinks I'm her son." And he slumped down by her side.

Barfy wagged her tail and panted. Jennifer and the others had heard her barking outside, and Rodriquez had gone out to find her.

"Is it safe out there, Barfy?" Jennifer asked.

The dog cocked its head curiously, then barked.

"I hope they hurry," Jennifer said. "Howard's getting a fever. How's Vaughan?"

"Still asleep," April said. She shivered. "It'll be dark soon."

"I know," Jennifer said tiredly. She heard distant rumbles of thunder.

"Ugh," Scott said, as he and the rex stood near a Gallimimus carcass. Flies buzzed over the rotting meat; the stench was stomach-churning. The rex lowered its head and took a nip out of the animal's hindquarters. Scott retched. The rex used its enormous head to nudge Scott closer to the dead meat. "No way," Scott said. "I'm not gonna eat that." Even though I'm hungry, he thought.

The rex was persistent, though. It kept cuffing Scott with its huge jaws. "Cut it out," he said. Finally, he took out his pocketknife and sliced a hunk of flesh off the carcass. The rex was fascinated; she watched him very closely. Then he threw the meat off to the side, and her head turned to watch it. While she was turned away, Scott activated the sphere, and casually walked to the other side of the Gallimimus. Now you really can't see me, he thought.

The rex turned back. It seemed puzzled that Scott wasn't there. It carefully looked around, sniffing the air. It dipped its snout back and forth, trying to feel for him. When it couldn't find him, it bellowed.

The noise was so deafening Scott almost fell on his back. The dampening field the sphere was sending out almost wavered, but he managed to hold it firmly in place. As long as he remained behind it, he was invisible.

The rex roared again, giving Scott an idea. He changed the field so that it reflected a mirror image of the rex three hundred feet away. The real rex saw the facsimile and charged after it. "Thanks, 'mom,'" Scott said, and ran the other way, towards the fence. He sprinted alongside it until he came to another drainage tunnel, with a grill covering lying beside it. Scott puzzled over the grill, wondering how it had gotten off. He decided Dodgson's workmen must have been moving through T. rex territory the same way he was, by moving through the tunnels. Beyond the fence, storm clouds were massing on the horizon.

Then he saw the eyes, peering out from the depths of the tunnel. Slowly they came forward, until a five-foot tall blue-skinned dinosaur hopped out of the entrance. It was followed by five more. The six of them bobbed their heads and chittered as they looked at Scott.

"Hi guys," he said. Obviously, they could see him, even though he wasn't moving. These were the kind of dinosaur Burton had called Troodons. They were carnivorous dinosaurs, but they didn't seem to be interested in lunching on Scott. As he watched them, he became aware that they, too, seemed to think he was one of their own. It was interesting. Scott had never really understood the rapport with animals that he and his father had. But if the animals thought that Paul or Scott were one of their own, it made sense.

It was then that Scott saw that one of the Troodons was holding a wrench in its clawed hand. That's amazing, Scott thought. They've learned how to use our tools.

He noticed that there also was an elaborate system of communication among the Troodons. It was partially movement based, but it was also vocal. Scott felt they were trying to decide something. He activated the sphere again and tried to "listen in" on the conversation more closely.

No there was no doubt about it all. The Troodons were engaged in a conversation as complex as any human one. One of them turned to Scott, and said something like "What do you want to do?"

Scott thought about his goal of finding and rescuing the children, and the sphere seemed to do a good job of translating, because next thing he knew, they were moving off and telling him to follow them.

They went back the way Scott had come, through the first tunnel. At the end, Scott stepped out first, and he heard voices, then a gunshot. He dived to the ground and rolled, catching a glimpse of two men in BioSyn jumpsuits. One of them had a machine gun. They were on the path to the visitor's center.

The Troodons exploded out of the tunnel with startling speed. The man with a machine got off a few shots before the gun was torn from his hands and the Troodons started biting.

"No!" Scott yelled, trying to empathically tell the dinosaurs to break off their attack.

The Troodons stopped, puzzled, and looked at Scott. Their bloodstained jaws opened and closed as they chittered. The men were bleeding, almost unconscious, but they were still alive. "Don't kill them!" Scott demanded.

The Troodons were taken aback by this, but they didn't resume the attack. Instead, they moved off to the Troodon that had been shot. They sniffed it and nudged it with their heads. When it didn't move, they looked up to Scott. They were waiting for him to tell them what to do.

"Com'on guys," he said grimly. "We're not history yet."

The khaki-painted helicopters swarmed over the edge of Isla Nublar like an angry cloud of bees, their fat bellies full of troops. They turned towards the center of the island, rotors churning in the light rain that had just begun to fall.

Up ahead of them, Scott and the Troodons arrived at the guest lodge. "You're sure this is where they are?" he asked. The lead Troodon, the pack mother, bobbed her head.

"Okay," Scott said. "Now we just have to take care of this fence." He activated the sphere, and it glowed brightly in the deepening darkness. Raindrops pattered down on his outstretched hand. The storm was beginning to unleash its girth. The power to the fence wavered briefly, then cut out entirely. But only for a second. Then it was back on again.

Scott frowned. Trying to do things with the sphere was sometimes problematic. Either he, or the sphere, sometimes didn't know enough about what was required in order to complete the desired action. It was a simple thing to tell the sphere to turn the fence off, but doing it was a complex action that required many separate steps, especially since the fence was designed so it wouldn't easily fail. Scott tried again. The results were the same: the electricity wavered, but it came back on-line almost instantly.

I need help, Scott thought. The sphere continued to glow, and Scott thought of Jennifer.

The thunder, once distant and rolling, was now constant and angry. But Jennifer didn't seem to hear it. She stared into space, her eyes glazed. "Scott," she whispered. She got up suddenly.

"Where are you going?" April asked. She was the only other one still awake, and was pressing a damp wet cloth to Howard's forehead.

"To the control room," Jennifer said. "Scott needs me to turn off a fence." She left the room before April could reply, wandering down the halls with a dreamlike expression on her face. She entered the control room and sat down at one of the screens.

She pressed a square on the screen marked POWER GRIDS. A new screen of squares came up. All of them were red. She touched the one that said VISITOR'S LODGE. A box came up on the screen which read, "Do you wish to turn off the Visitor Lodge's grid?" She pressed the YES button. The VISITOR'S LODGE button turned green.

Out at the lodge, the fences stopped humming as the power was cut. The storm had arrived, and it was a Jurassic storm: blinding flashes of lightning, throaty rumbles of thunder, and torrential rain. The Troodons meeped and chirred. "Yes!" Scott exclaimed. "Way to go, Jennifer. Now do you guys remember what to do?" He felt their answer; they were ready.

Scott threw the gate open and sprinted towards the door of the lodge. He expected it to be locked, so he stood aside as the lead Troodon charged the door and crashed into it full force. The hinges broke and the door fell inward. The Troodon darted inside, screeching like a banshee. Scott followed her.

Alex Cunningham, Dodgson, and the kids were crouched behind the couch in the middle of the room. Cunningham stood. He had a taser gun and fired it at the Troodon. She writhed in agony and her tail flung around and caught Scott across the chest, knocking him to the ground. Another Troodon came leaping through the door, and in an incredible twenty-foot jump, she landed on the couch, toppling it on Cunningham. He yelled and discharged the taser. The blast hit the ceiling and plaster rained down from it.

The Troodon grabbed Tim Murphy and ducked out of the lodge. Another went in and grabbed Lex. She kicked and screamed as it carried her out. The Troodons ran for the visitor's center. Dodgson dashed out through the door. The other Troodons had scattered. Dodgson ran out of the courtyard. He saw shadowy figures in the rain. He ran the other direction. He heard voices yelling in Spanish. He ignored them, sprinting for all he was worth, trying to reach the jungle line. Gunfire broke out and bullets caught him in the back, flinging him forward. As he bled on the wet ground, his mind had the time to briefly contemplate the irony that he was the one who would soon be extinct.

Jennifer twisted a lock of her hair idly as she sat in front of the screen. She was worried; she hadn't felt anything from Scott for minutes. A dull, gnawing anxiety was growing in the pit of her stomach. She feared he was hurt. A quiet, almost trilling clicking noise drew her attention. She turned around, and there was the Utahraptor, not more than five feet away. It bared its teeth and hissed.

She trembled with fear as it carefully watched her. Scott isn't here to protect me this time, she thought. I'm going to die. The thought filled her with sadness. There was so much she still wanted to learn and do. She wanted, most of all, to learn more about Scott. Now she would never have the chance. She looked the raptor in the eye, and a sudden calm fell over her. Looking in those predatory eyes, she suddenly felt a deep respect for Nature, and disgust for Mankind's tampering with it.

The raptor raised its left leg, and there was a loud pop. The whole top half of the raptor just disappeared. Then Jennifer's eyes cleared and she saw that what was left of that half of the raptor was splattered over half the control room. She turned to the door, and there was Vaughan, holding the still-smoking gas grenade gun. The legs and torso of the raptor twitched and fell to the ground.

"Com'on, let's get out of here," Vaughan said. "I heard helicopters."

"We've got to find Scott," Jennifer said. "I think he's hurt."

"How can a thing like him be hurt?" Vaughan asked.

"He's human," Jennifer said firmly. "At least half of him is."

They ran out of the control room, and there was Dr. Burton, carrying Howard. Diaz, Rodriquez, April and Barfy were right behind him. "The choppers are here," Burton said urgently. "We've got to leave right away. The Costa Rican army is going to carpet bomb the island."

"I'm sorry," Dr. Howser said, covering the still form of the little dinosaur with a receiving blanket. "There's nothing more I could do with our equipment. There just aren't any respirators for tiny dinosaurs."

Hammond, Alan, and Ellie had rushed Alectra to Doogie's Los Angeles clinic after the little Apatosaurus went into convulsions.

"What happened?" Ellie asked.

"Hard to know for sure," Doogie said. "I think it was anaphylaxis, possibly as a reaction to the drugs."

"Toxic shock," Ellie said.

"Yes. Anyway, I'm sorry."

Hammond shook his head sadly.

The galaxy seemed to swirl in front of Scott's eyes. His breathing came in quick, rapid gasps. He felt like something big was standing on his side. Then his eyes blurred in the bright light of flashlights.

"Scott," Jennifer said, crouching by his side. She touched him, and he gasped.

"He probably has broken ribs," Dr. Burton said, behind her. "We better get him to the chopper."

"I'll carry him," Vaughan said. He knelt and lifted Scott gently in his strong arms. Scott moaned softly. They walked outside into the rain, which was slowing to a drizzle. Tim and Lex Murphy ran behind them, Barfy at their heels.

"They did it, Scott," Tim said. "The Troodons rescued us." Tim had been right all along: the Troodons were the coolest dinosaurs of all. Even better than Styracosaurs.

They climbed into the chopper. Vaughan gently laid Scott down on the gurney inside. Jennifer sat beside him, at the back of the helicopter, and others climbed into the seats ahead of them. The door closed. Ahead of them, another helicopter took off, the one that had Howard and April aboard. They were all leaving Jurassic Park, for good and forever.

"I gave Scott a shot of morphine," Dr. Burton called back to Jennifer, as the chopper climbed into the air. "He should be asleep soon."

Jennifer nodded and looked into Scott's glassy eyes. He smiled weakly. "Thanks Jennifer," he mumbled.

She smiled back and gently squeezed his tightly closed hand.

"I don't want them to suffer," Scott wheezed.

Jennifer caressed his head, knowing he was referring to the dinosaurs.

Scott opened his hand; the sphere was resting in his palm. He looked at her, the resolve strong in his eyes despite the pain he was feeling. She nodded in understanding and placed her hand over his. She could barely make out a faint, sonorous hum against the background roar of the rotors. She looked down at the blue light spilling out under her palm, then glanced back towards Isla Nublar. In the darkness she could just perceive a faint blue glow enveloping the island. She felt a warm tingle, and Scott's sadness, and the glow faded. The tingle faded with it, and she exhaled slowly as she watched a tear run down Scott's cheek. She held his hand all the way back to San Jose, knowing he was crying for the T. rex, and the Troodons, and for all the other savage and beautiful creatures that were, once again, extinct.

THE END

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