Ellie frowned at the X-ray image. "You think this could really be a legitimate rediscovery?" she said. "Like the coelacanth?"
"Maybe," Grant said. The coelacanth was a five-foot-long fish thought to have died out sixty-five million years ago, until a specimen was pulled from the ocean in 1938. But there were other examples. The Australian mountain pygmy possum was known only from fossils until a live one was found in a garbage can in Melbourne. And a ten-thousand-year-old fossil fruit bat from New Guinea was described by a zoologist who not long afterward received a living specimen in the mail.
"But could it be real?" she persisted. "What about the age?"
Grant nodded. "The age is a problem."
Most rediscovered animals were rather recent additions to the fossil record: ten or twenty thousand years old. Some were a few million years old- in the case of the coelacanth, sixty-five million years old. But the specimen they were looking at was much, much older than that. Dinosaurs had died out in the Cretaceous period, sixty-five million years ago. They had flourished as the dominant life form on the planet in the Jurassic, 190 million years ago. And they had first appeared in the Triassic, roughly 220 million years ago.
It was during the early Triassic period that Procompsognathus had lived-a time so distant that our planet didn't even look the same. All the continents were joined together in a single landmass, called Pangaca, which extended from the North to the South Pole-a vast continent of ferns and forests, with a few large deserts. The Atlantic Ocean was a narrow lake between what would become Africa and Florida. The air was denser. The land was warmer. There were hundreds of active volcanoes. And it was in this environment that Procompsognathus lived.
"Well," Ellie said. "We know animals have survived. Crocodiles are basically Triassic animals living in the present. Sharks are Triassic. So we know it has happened before."
Grant nodded. "And the thing is," he said, "how else do we explain it? It's either a fake-which I doubt-or else it's a rediscovery. What else could it be?"
The phone rang. "Alice Levin again," Grant said. "Let's see if she'll send us the actual specimen." He answered it and looked at Ellie, surprised. "Yes, I'll hold for Mr. Hammond. Yes. Of course."
"Hammond? What does he want?" Ellie said.
Grant shook his head, and then said into the phone, "Yes, Mr. Hammond. Yes, it's good to hear your voice, too. . . .Yes . . . ." He looked at Ellie. "Oh, you did? Oh yes? Is that right?"
He cupped his hand over the mouthpiece and said, "Still as eccentric as ever. You've got to hear this."
Grant pushed the speaker button, and Ellie heard a raspy old-man's voice speaking rapidly: "-hell of an annoyance from some EPA fellow, seems to have gone off half cocked, all on his own, running around the country talking to people, stirring up things. I don't suppose anybody's come to see you way out there?"
"As a matter of fact," Grant said, "somebody did come to see me."
Hammond snorted. "I was afraid of that. Smart-ass kid named Morris?"
"Yes, his name was Morris," Grant said.
"He's going to see all our consultants," Hammond said. "He went to see Ian Malcolm the other day-you know, the mathematician in Texas? That's the first I knew of it. We're having one hell of a time getting a handle on this thing, it's typical of the way government operates, there isn't any complaint, there isn't any charge, just harassment from some kid who's unsupervised and is running around at the taxpayers' expense. Did he bother you? Disrupt your work?"
"No, no, he didn't bother me."
"Well, that's too bad, in a way," Hammond said, "because I'd try and get an injunction to stop him if he had. As it is, I had our lawyers call over at EPA to find out what the hell their problem is. The head of the office claims he didn't know there was any investigation! You figure that one out. Damned bureaucracy is all it is. Hell, I think this kid's trying to get down to Costa Rica, poke around, get onto our island. You know we have an island down there?"
"No," Grant said, looking at Ellie, "I didn't know."
"Oh yes, we bought it and started our operation oh, four or five years ago now. I forget exactly. Called Isla Nublar-big island, hundred miles offshore. Going to be a biological preserve. Wonderful place. Tropical jungle. You know, you ought to see it, Dr. Grant."
"Sounds interesting," Grant said, "but actually-"
Chapter 3
"It's almost finished now, you know," Hammond said. "I've sent you some material about it. Did you get my material?"
"No, but we're pretty far from-"
"Maybe it'll come today. Look it over. The island's just beautiful. It's got everything. We've been in construction now thirty months. You can imagine. Big park. Opens in September next year. You really ought to go see it.
"It sounds wonderful, but-"
"As a matter of fact," Hammond said, "I'm going to insist you see it, Dr. Grant. I know you'd find it right up your alley. You'd find it fascinating."
"I'm in the middle of-" Grant said.
"Say, I'll tell you what," Hammond said, as if the idea had just occurred to him. "I'm having some of the people who consulted for us go down there this weekend. Spend a few days and look it over. At our expense, of course. It'd be terrific if you'd give us your opinion."
"I couldn't possibly," Grant said.
"Oh, just for a weekend," Hammond said, with the irritating, cheery persistence of an old man. "That's all I'm talking about, Dr. Grant. I wouldn't want to interrupt your work. I know how important that work is. Believe me, I know that. Never interrupt your work. But you could hop on down there this weekend, and be back on Monday."
"No, I couldn't," Grant said. "I've just found a new skeleton and-"
"Yes, fine, but I still think you should come-" Hammond said, not really listening.
"And we've just received some evidence for a very puzzling and remarkable find, which seems to be a living procompsognathid."
"A what?" Hammond said, slowing down. "I didn't quite get that. You said a living procompsognathid?"
"That's right," Grant said. "It's a biological specimen, a partial fragment of an animal collected from Central America. A living animal."
"You don't say," Hammond said. "A living animal? How extraordinary."
"Yes," Grant said. "We think so, too. So, you see, this isn't the time for me to be leaving-"
"Central America, did you say?"
"Yes."
"Where in Central America is it from, do you know?"
"A beach called Cabo Blanco, I don't know exactly where-"
"I see." Hammond cleared his throat, "And when did this, ah, specimen arrive in your hands?"
"Just today."
"Today, I see. Today. I see. Yes." Hammond cleared his throat again.
Grant looked at Ellie and mouthed, What's going on?
Ellie shook her head. Sounds upset.
Grant mouthed, See if Morris is still here.
She went to the window and looked out, but Morris's car was gone. She turned back.
On the speaker, Hammond coughed. "Ah, Dr. Grant. Have you told anybody about it yet?"
"No."
"Good, that's good. Well. Yes. I'll tell you frankly, Dr. Grant, I'm having a little problem about this island. This EPA thing is coming at just the wrong time."
"How's that?" Grant said.
"Well, we've had our problems and some delays. . . . Let's just say that I'm under a little pressure here, and I'd like you to look at this island for me. Give me your opinion. I'll be paying you the usual weekend consultant rate of twenty thousand a day. That'd be sixty thousand for three days. And if you can spare Dr. Sattler, she'll go at the same rate. We need a botanist. What do you say?"
Ellie looked at Grant as he said, "Well, Mr. Hammond, that much money would fully finance our expeditions for the next two summers."
"Good, good," Hammond said blandly. He seemed distracted now, his thoughts elsewhere. "I want this to be easy. . . . Now, I'm sending the corporate jet to pick you up at that private airfield cast of Choteau. You know the one I mean? It's only about two hours' drive from where you are. You be there at five p.m. tomorrow and I'll be waiting for you. Take you right down. Can you and Dr. Sattler make that plane?"
"I guess we can."
"Good. Pack lightly. You don't need passports. I'm looking forward to it. See you tomorrow," Hammond said, and he hung up.
Cowan, Swain and Ross
Midday sun streamed into the San Francisco law offices of Cowan, Swain and Ross, giving the room a cheerfulness that Donald Gennaro did not feel. He listened on the phone and looked at his boss, Daniel Ross, cold as an undertaker in his dark pinstripe suit.
"I understand, John," Gennaro said. "And Grant agreed to come? Good, good . . . yes, that sounds fine to me. My congratulations, John." He hung up the phone and turned to Ross.
"We can't trust Hammond any more. He's under too much pressure. The EPA's investigating him, he's behind schedule on his Costa Rican resort, and the investors are getting nervous. There have been too many rumors of problems down there. Too many workmen have died. And now this business about a living procompsit-whatever on the mainland . . . "