"And were the dinosaurs in fact attacking us?"
"Yes."
"They would kill us and eat us if they could?" Malcolm said.
"I think so."
"The reason I ask," Malcolm said, "is that I'm told large predators such as lions and tigers are not born man-eaters. Isn't that true? These animals must learn somewhere along the way that human beings are easy to kill. Only afterward do they become man-killers."
"Yes, I believe that's true," Grant said.
"Well, these dinosaurs must be even more reluctant than lions and tigers. After all, they come from a time before human beings-or even large mammals-existed at all. God knows what they think when they see us. So I wonder: have they learned, somewhere along the line, that humans are easy to kill?"
The group fell silent as they walked.
"In any case," Malcolm said, "I shall be extremely interested to see the control room now."
Version 4.4
"Was there any problem with the group?" Hammond asked.
"No," Henry Wu said, "there was no problem at all."
"They accepted your explanation?"
"Why shouldn't they?" Wu said. "It's all quite straightforward, in the broad strokes. It's only the details that get sticky. And I wanted to talk about the details with you today. You can think of it as a matter of aesthetics."
John Hammond wrinkled his nose, as if he smelled something disagreeable. "Aesthetics?" he repeated.
They were standing in the living room of Hammond's elegant bungalow, set back among palm trees in the northern sector of the park. The living room was airy and comfortable, fitted with a half-dozen video monitors showing the animals in the park. The file Wu had brought, stamped ANIMAL DEVELOPMENT: VERSION 4.4, lay on the coffee table.
Hammond was looking at him in that patient, paternal way. Wu, thirty-three years old, was acutely aware that he had worked for Hammond all his professional life. Hammond had hired him right out of graduate school.
"Of course, there are practical consequences as well," Wu said. "I really think you should consider my recommendations for phase two. We should go to version 4.4."
"You want to replace all the current stock of animals?" Hammond said.
"Yes, I do."
"Why? What's wrong with them?"
"Nothing," Wu said, "except that they're real dinosaurs."
"That's what I asked for, Henry," Hammond said, smiling. "And that's what you gave me."
"I know," Wu said. "But you see. . ." He paused. How could he explain this to Hammond? Hammond hardly ever visited the island. And it was a peculiar situation that Wu was trying to convey. "Right now, as we stand here, almost no one in the world has ever seen an actual dinosaur. Nobody knows what they're really like."
"Yes . . ."
"The dinosaurs we have now are real," Wu said, pointing to the screens around the room, "but in certain ways they are unsatisfactory, Unconvincing. I could make them better."
"Better in what way?"
"For one thing, they move too fast," Henry Wu said. "People aren't accustomed to seeing large animals that are so quick. I'm afraid visitors will think the dinosaurs look speeded up, like film running too fast."
"But, Henry, these are real dinosaurs. You said so yourself."
"I know," Wu said. "But we could easily breed slower, more domesticated dinosaurs."
"Domesticated dinosaurs?" Hammond snorted. "Nobody wants domesticated dinosaurs, Henry. They want the real thing."
"But that's my point," Wu said. "I don't think they do. They want to see their expectation, which is quite different."
Hammond was frowning.
"You said yourself, John, this park is entertainment," Wu said. "And entertainment has nothing to do with reality. Entertainment is antithetical to reality."
Hammond sighed. "Now, Henry, are we going to have another one of those abstract discussions? You know I like to keep it simple. The dinosaurs we have now are real, and-"
"Well, not exactly," Wu said. He paced the living room, pointed to the monitors. "I don't think we should kid ourselves. We haven't re-created the past here. The past is gone. It can never be re-created. What we've done is reconstruct the past-or at least a version of the past. And I'm saying we can make a better version."
"Better than real?"
"Why not?" Wu said. "After all, these animals are already modified. We've inserted genes to make them patentable, and to make them lysine dependent. And we've done everything we can to promote growth, and accelerate development into adulthood."
Hammond shrugged. "That was inevitable. We didn't want to wait. We have investors to consider."
"Of course. But I'm 'ust saying, why stop there? Why not push ahead to make exactly the kind of dinosaur that we'd like to see? One that is more acceptable to visitors, and one that is easier for us to handle? A slower, more docile version for our park?"
Hammond frowned. "But then the dinosaurs wouldn't be real."
"But they're not real now," Wu said. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. There isn't any reality here." He shrugged helplessly. He could see he wasn't getting through. Hammond had never been interested in technical details, and the essence of the argument was technical. How could he explain to Hammond about the reality of DNA dropouts, the patches, the gaps in the sequence that Wu had been obliged to fill in, making the best guesses he could, but still, making guesses, The DNA of the dinosaurs was like old photographs that had been retouched, basically the same as the original but in some places repaired and clarified, and as a result-
"Now, Henry," Hammond said, putting his arm around Wu's shoulder. "If you don't mind my saying so, I think you're getting cold feet. You've been working very hard for a long time, and you've done a hell of a job-a hell of a job-and it's finally time to reveal to some people what you've done. It's natural to be a little nervous. To have some doubts. But I am convinced, Henry, that the world will be entirely satisfied. Entirely satisfied."
Chapter 8
As he spoke, Hammond steered him toward the door.
"But, John," Wu said. "Remember back in '87, when we started to build the containment devices? We didn't have any full-grown adults yet, so we had to predict what we'd need- We ordered big taser shockers, cars with cattle prods mounted on them, guns that blow out electric nets. All built specially to our specifications. We've got a whole array of devices now and they're all too slow. We've got to make some adjustments. You know that Muldoon wants military equipment: TOW missiles and laser-guided devices?"
"Let's leave Muldoon out of this," Hammond said. "I'm not worried. It's just a zoo, Henry."
The phone rang, and Hammond went to answer it. Wu tried to think of another way to press his case. But the fact was that, after five long years, Jurassic Park was nearing completion, and John Hammond lust wasn't listening to him any more.
There had been a time when Hammond listened to Wu very attentively. Especially when he had first recruited him, back in the days when Henry Wu was a twenty-eight-year-old graduate student getting his doctorate at Stanford in Norman Atherton's tab.
Atherton's death had thrown the lab into confusion as well as mourning; no one knew what would happen to the funding or the doctoral programs. There was a lot of uncertainty; people worried about their careers.
Two weeks after the funeral, John Hammond came to see Wu. Everyone in the lab knew that Atherton had had some association with Hammond, although the details were never clear. But Hammond had approached Wu with a directness Wu never forgot.
"Norman always said you're the best geneticist in his lab," he said. "What are your plans now?"
"I don't know. Research."
"You want a university appointment?"
"Yes."
"That's a mistake," Hammond said briskly. "At least, if you respect your talent."
Wu had blinked. "Why?"
"Because, let's face facts," Hammond said. "Universities are no longer the intellectual centers of the country. The very idea is preposterous. Universities are the backwater. Don't look so surprised. I'm not saying anything you don't know. Since World War II, all the really important discoveries have come out of private laboratories. The laser, the transistor the polio vaccine, the microchip, the hologram, the personal computer, magnetic resonance imaging, CAT scans-the list goes on and on. Universities simply aren't where it's happening any more. And they haven't been for forty years. If you want to do something important in computers or genetics, you don't go to a university. Dear me, no."
Wu found he was speechless.
"Good heavens," Hammond said, "what must you go through to start a new project? How many grant applications, how many forms, how many approvals? The steering committee? The department chairman? The university resources committee? How do you get more work space if you need I . t? More assistants if you need them? How long does all that take? A brilliant man can't squander precious time with forms and committees. Life is too short, and DNA too long. You want to make your mark. If you want to get something done, stay out of universities."
In those days, Wu desperately wanted to make his mark. John Hammond had his full attention.