InGen's Redemption

Jurassic Park

Of all it's time in service, the San Francisco Superior Court had not witnessed a case as incongruous as the infamous "InGen Incident" in August 1989. 15,000 reporters and members of the public were standing outside the Court's doors, eager to hear what successful businessman John Parker Hammond had to say. But the multi-billion-dollar bioengineering company was firmly sworn to secrecy and the case was conducted behind closed doors. During its crisis, InGen filed for Chapter 11 protection with signed agreements from all parties and consortia involved, who had no comment to offer to the public. That wasn't to say, however, that there wasn't any leakage. Even the White House couldn't keep a lid firmly sealed on private information. And especially a secret enterprise such as "Jurassic Park", which cost InGen four billion dollars in damages, could not remain hidden for long from such a demanding public. The people needed to know.

On January 5th, 1997, almost ten years after the accident, InGen announced the retirement of John Hammond, who after fifty years of entrepreneurship, happily claimed his resignation. InGen promised they would focus their research into nanotechnology. Of course, this was a pretence. InGen was too sly and rapacious to give up the opportunity of leading such a large enterprise to competitors.

Chapter 1 Things That Go Bump in The Night

"Oh God," Joe Anderson said, staring out the window of his bungalow.

"What is it, hon?" His wife, Kate, asked, moving into the kitchen.

"It's still raining."

Kate made a face of annoyance, but said nothing.

Unbeknownst to the average simmered-down tourist, the equatorial coastal villages of Costa Rica were notorious for periods of terrible weather. Of the past week spent in Parismina, a village on the Caribbean coast, it had rained practically every day. And the weather was torrential. So many of their plans had to be cancelled or postponed.

Joe sat down next to his wife.

"Listen Kate, if it continues like this-"

"Enough, Joe, I don't want to hear it. We've been through this; we're going together."

Her words detonated a silence in the room. Joe could hear the rain hammering against the window, the dull wet gurgle of forming mud. He thought about the week before, when Kate and he had been excited about organizing a vacation to Costa Rica. It was smack-bang on the equator, and Joe was looking forwards to the warm nights, the cool beer and the beach. The first couple of days were good; the sun was shining, the beaches were swarmed with people, bars were open twenty-four hours a day. But, as it turned out, Costa Rica was in for a rough week, as a storm that developed up in Quintana Roo had decided to swing south towards the Caribbean Coast, consequently spoiling any plans they had for the week. So, most of the time was spent indoors, huddled together watching TV or in bed, reading. Sometimes Kate would go out to market to browse for anything of interest. She'd brought a couple of things home; a hand-crafted trinket made of sea-shell, and a pretzel-shaped amulet meant to be worn around the neck. Kate had said the locals called it "Pura Vida", which literally translated meant "pure life", or "enjoy life".

It's a good luck charm, she'd said, when she came home after the first day it rained. They'd had little luck so far.

But despite everything the weather had thrown at them, Kate was adamant about the trip to one of the several offshore islands. It was their ideal tropical getaway, just the two of them, together, spending time in each-other's embrace underneath the orange glow of setting sun, drinking expensive champagne and exotic foods. They'd leave for San Jose airport early in the morning and fly to Santa Cruz, where they would take a helicopter directly to the island. But what with the storm, the dream of this tropical paradise was tragically fading fast. Persuading Kate to give it up was an incredibly stupid thing to do. She'd organized most of the trip, and was determined to have her way. Arguing with her was as pointless as trying to reason with an aggravated bull.

"Joe? What was that?" Kate said.

"What was what?"

"That noise. Didn't you hear it?"

"No," Joe looked at his wife. "What's the matter?"

"Never mind, I must be hearing things."

Kate looked concerned and a bit worried, and she had the right to be. Last year a magnitude 7.8 earthquake had hit Los Angeles, and Kate was right on the epicentre. She'd come home in such a state that Joe had taken her to see a doctor. It's common in most people who've been in a large earthquake. She'll be fine, after a few days, he said. Despite the doctor's vagueness, Kate did eventually regain her strength, and she said she was fine, but Joe could tell that the earthquake wouldn't leave her conscious for a long time to come. Every occasionally, he'd seen her gripping the edge of the sofa, her eyes wide and distant, seemingly entranced by fear. At times, she would impulsively dart under the table, when there was no earthquake at all.

"There it is again." Kate said, with growing concern perceivable in her voice.

Joel heard it too. A deep, long single thrum. Then silence again. He looked out the window.

"It must be thunder hon," He said, though he wasn't sure it was.

Suddenly, a loud crash from outside; a tumble of leaves against the window. The impact caused the table to rock slightly. Joe caught the glint of something outside in the moonlight.

"What the hell was that?" Kate said, getting up from the table.

"It's probably the storm. I'll check outside."

"No, you're staying here," Kate said firmly. "We'll call the fire station."

"The town doesn't have one, hon. I'll only be a minute-"

"You're staying here."

Joe obeyed her. He noticed the rain had picked up and was now pounding against the roof, and he cringed at the sound of leaking water in the bedroom upstairs. They'd had trouble getting the ceiling fixed, and as a compromise they were sleeping in the lounge, on the fold-out beds of the couches. The builder was coming tomorrow. Another thrum. This time it was louder, and the lights flickered slightly. An earthquake? Joe wondered, looking out into the night sky.

A fourth thrum. Then a fifth. Their Mercedes Benz E-Class rental went off, filling the intermittent silence. Joe could see the reflection of the rear lights flashing in the window, providing a better view into the night. He couldn't see much on the ground, it was fine; there were no cracks or bare electric wires anywhere. The bungalow was situated on a levelled hill populated with palm fronds and short grass, which acted as boundaries for privacy from the neighbouring houses. From here Joe could only see as far as the closest neighbouring house, which he could see the roof-wait, no, something was blocking it. It was a tree, with thick pebbled bark-a palm tree, perhaps, although the trunk was oddly much larger. And there were three distinctive roots bare to the earth, with strange conical ends. And, to his surprise, there lay a second trunk, of almost the same size, several meters from the first, again with three roots. The trunks were so tall that Joe couldn't see the tops at all from the window. That was when he realised he was looking at the picture wrong.

Excitement, fear, and confusion hit him all at once. Memories from his childhood flashed before his eyes. Time stopped.

"Oh sweet Jesus, could it be?" he gasped, unable to fathom the creature before him.

"What's wrong?" Kate said, now standing by his side.

Joe blinked. Through the glass, only a few yards away from him was a monster. A forty-foot, terrifying cold-blooded lizard monster. Or rather, the feet of one. What he thought were roots were actually three giant toes, tipped with deadly claws, which looked sharp enough to tear right through a man from head to toe. The thick pebbled bark was scales.

"Please tell me that isn't what I think it is," He said, his voice coming out thin and raspy with fear.

"What are you talking about?"

His eyes were glued to the window. He couldn't move at all; he was frozen in place; his muscles wouldn't respond. He realised his jaw was slack, and he was holding his breath.

"Joe?"

Kate's voice sounded blurred, as if it was from another universe. The mighty foot took a lunge towards the house, causing the walls and ceiling to shake soon after it made contact again with the earth. Joel quivered with fright. Holy shit, it's right beside the house, he thought.

"Joe!"

Joe tried to respond, but found his voice was dead dry. He closed it and tried to wet it with saliva, but none would come. He felt sudden pain in his left shoulder-Kate had punched him. The pain brought him back to his senses. He felt a profound confidence surge through him. He turned to face his wife.

"I'm going outside."

"No, Joe-"

"I'm going, Kate." He looked at her with stern eyes.

"Then I'm going with you."

"The hell you are. Stay here."

"Don't order me about! How dare you-"

Joe put his hands forcefully on his wife's shoulders.

"Stay here."

Kate looked angry and confused, but obeyed. He decided he wouldn't tell her until he made sure that what he saw was real.

He looked back to the window. Beyond the sheet of rain, amongst the tropical brush, he could see the front foot was now lightly raking the ground with its claws, making trails in the mud. The second foot remained where it was.

Joe turned to his wife. "Stay here and be quiet. I'll only be a second."

He made sure he left before his wife could say anything.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Kate Anderson said aloud.

Her husband's behaviour was not like him at all. When he got back, he had some explaining to do. Why hadn't he responded to her calling his name? What had he seen outside the window that'd made him act the way he did, suddenly grabbing her shoulders and telling her to stay put. Who the hell did he think he was, ordering her about like that? His face was as white as chalk, his eyes as wide as saucepans. What had he seen? Kate looked outside the window.

The Mercedes had stopped wailing and so had its rear lights; Joe had obviously turned off the alarm. Outside, in the rain, everything seemed normal. The grass was a bit loose in some areas, but that was okay because the soil wasn't particularly thick and the rain always made a quick job of turning it into mud. She heard movement around the side of the house. She went to the adjacent living room, which had a great view of the coast below, a view that was now obscured by low clouds. All that Kate could see was the close-cut patch of lawn and the dark outline of the Mercedes.

Kate stood there, looking out the window, into the rain, wondering what on earth her husband had seen that made him look so frightened.

She waited for two long minutes, physically unable to sit down at the kitchen table to finish her coffee, which she knew had already gone cold. The rain continued to hammer against the house. Kate clenched her fists in anger. The rain drove her crazy. So far it had ruined nearly all her carefully scrutinized plans. At least they had the trip to Europe next year to look forward to.

Kate relished the thought of Europe. She thought about how promising it was in both indoor and outdoor activities, about the different languages and cultures, the exotic foods, historically famous places, luxurious five-star hotels booked the whole way around. She thought of it often, and had unfortunately become more and more frequent as the rainy days went by. It became so frequent that it crossed her mind at least twice each day. The days were long; the rain was persistent. Nothing could drive her crazier.

She looked at her watch. 12.20 a.m. Jesus Christ, it's midnight, she thought. Kate felt her eyes heavy in their sockets, as though her body had suddenly decided to be tired only until she found out how late it was. Where was Joe? Wouldn't he be back by now? He should be back by now. She went back to the kitchen window, suppressing a yawn with the back of her hand. At least she'd deferred it until a later time, when it would be harder to put off. Nothing was different outside; the rain was still as annoying as ever, the thick, pulpy mud continued to bubble and gurgle, the trees were swaying violently in the wind. Kate checked her watch again. 12.05. Still no sign of her husband.

"That's it Joe, I'm going out there myself," She said, through gritted teeth.

She threw on her jacket and put on slippers, not bothering to waste time trying to untie the tangled mess of her tramping boots. She went outside, taking a moment before storming out into the rain, feeling it lash against her face. It felt as though a dam had burst from above and had hit her squarely on her shoulders. Kate ran around the side of the house, taking care to avoid the deepest of the puddles. She stopped. She could discern a shape directly ahead of her, long and thin, almost entirely pale. Taking careful steps, she slowly made her way towards it. Her foot kicked something up. A wedding ring. Kate was filled with sudden dread that set her teeth chatting uncontrollably and a painful knocking against her skull. Kate could barely keep herself from vomiting. It was her husband. Or, what was left of him.