Isla Sorna

87 miles southeast of Isla Nublar


135-foot luxury yacht is anchored just offshore in a tropical lagoon. The beach is a stunning crescent of sand at the jungle fringe, utterly deserted. On the beach, two ship hands, dressed in white uniforms, have set up a picnic table with three chairs on the sand and are carefully laying out luncheon service; fine china, silver, crystal descanters with red and white wine. Paul Bowman, forties, sits in a chair off to the side, reading. Mrs. Bowman, painfully thin, with the perpetually surprised look of a woman who's had her eyes done more than once, supervises the setting of the table. She looks up and sees a little girl, Cathy, seven or eight years old, wandering off down the beach.

"Cathy! Don't wander off!" she shouted.

Cathy keeps wandering.

"Come back! You can look for shells right here!" Mrs. Bowman continued to shout at Cathy.

Cathy gestures, pretending she can't hear.

"Leave her alone, Deirdre!" Paul shouted at Mrs. Bowman.

"What about snakes?" Mrs. Bowman asked.

"There are no snakes on the beach. Let her have fun, for once." Paul said.

Down the beach, Cathy keeps wandering away, muttering to herself as her parents' quarreling voices fade in the distance.

"Please be quiet, please be quiet, please be quiet . . ."

Rounding a curve in the beach, her parents disappear from view behind her. A rustling sound draws her attention, and she turns, toward where the thick jungle foliage gives way to the sand.

A large bush, maybe twelve feet tall, is moving, its branches swaying and shaking. Curious, Cathy walks up to the bush, which abruptly stops moving.

A small, lizard-like animal, dark green with brown stripes along its back, steps out from the bush. Only about a foot tall, it stands on its hind legs, balancing on its thick tail. It walks upright, bobbing its head like a chicken.

"Well, hello there!" Cathy said to the animal.

The animal just stares at her. Cathy squats down on her haunches.

"What are you? A little bird or something?" she continued.

She opens her hand. She has a handful of goldfish crackers.

"Are you hungry? You want a goldfish?"

The animal draws closer. Cathy holds the cracker in the palm of her hand. The animal gets closer still…

And hops nimbly up onto Cathy's palm. Her arm dips a bit under the weight, but it's not that heavy, and she holds it up easily. It bobs its head and scarves up the goldfish.

Enchanted, Cathy breaks into an enormous grin and turns her head, calling back over her shoulder.

"Mom! Dad! You gotta come see this! I found something!"

She turns back.

Thirty more animals have come out onto the sand. They're standing there, bobbing anxiously, staring at her from a few feet away. Cathy's smile fades.

She turns her head slowly to the right. Twenty more animals have come in from that side, forming a semi-circle, bobbing and chirping as they surround her.

"Wh-what do you guys want?" Cathy asked nervously.

Back at the beach

The table is set. Mrs. Bowman calls out.

"Cathy, sweetheart! Lunch is ready!"

From around the curve of the beach, a flock of birds bolts from the jungle trees as Cathy's shrill suddenly pierce the air.

"PAUL!" Mrs. Bowman shouted.

She takes off, running down the beach, Paul leaps out of his chair and follows, and all available deck hands race off to help, kicking up geysers of sand behind them.

Mrs. Bowman stops dead in her tracks when she rounds the bend in the beach. Mr. Bowman and the Hands race past her to help Cathy as Mrs. Bowman let's loose a horrified, slack-jawed scream, her mouth a perfect oval.

InGen Headquarters, Ganios

Peter Ludlow, late thirties, a man with the anxious look of someone on those desk the buck stops. Ludlow flips open a file, pulls out a stack of black and white eight by tens, and tosses them on the table.

"These pictures were taken in a hospital in Hinomoto forty-eight hours ago, after a family on a yacht cruise stumbled onto Site B. The little girl will be fine. Her parents, however, are wealthy, angry, and very fond of lawsuits. But that's hardly new to us." he said before pulling out a paper from the file.

"Wrongful death settlements, partial list: family of Irma, 36.5 million dollars; family of Yimr, 23 million; friends of Claudette Vance, 12.6 million. Damaged or destroyed equipment, 17.3 million. Demolition, de-construction, and disposal of Isla Nublar facilities, organic and inorganic, one hundred and twenty-six million dollars. The list goes on - research funding, media payoffs. Ohhh, Silence is expensive."

He's just warming up. Not a bad performer.

"This corporation has been bleeding from the throat for four years. You have sat patiently and listened to ecology lectures while Count Vance signed your checks and spent your money. You have watched your stock drop from seventy-eight and a quarter to nineteen flat with no good end in sight. And all along, we have held a significant product asset that we have attempted to hide, at great expense, when we could have safely harvested and displayed it for profit. Enormous profit."

He reaches out to a model on the table and gives it a shove, sending it sliding down the length of the table in front of them. It's a modern amphitheatre, with rows of cages built into the raked area under the seats. In the display area, there are tiny replicas of various kinds of dinosaurs; in the stands, Boy Scout troops and Tourists look in wonder.

"Gentlemen, this could generate enough income to wipe out four years of lawsuits and damage control and unpleasant infighting. And the one thing, the only thing standing between us and this windfall is a born-again naturalist who happens to be our own CEO. Believe me, I do not enjoy having to say these things about my own uncle. But I don't work for Mother Nature. I work for you." Ludlow said, clearing his glasses.

" 'Whereas the Chief Executive Officer has engaged in wasteful and negligent business practices to further his own personal environmental beliefs… Whereas these practices have affected the financial performance of the company by incurring significant losses… Whereas the shareholders have been materially harmed by theses losses. Thereby, be it resolved that Count Earl Vance should be removed from the office of Chief Executive Officer, effective immediately.' I move the resolution be put to a vote. Do I have a second?" Ludlow asked.

"I second the motion. Mr. Maguire, please poll the members by a show of hands." A board member said.

The Senior Board Member sighs heavily, feeling like a traitor.

"All those in favor of InGen Corporate Resolution 213C, please signify your approval by raising your right hand." Mr. Maguire said.

It starts slowly, guiltily, but every hand in the room goes up. Ludlow sits back, victorious.

Subway, Sheldon Free City

A subway thunders into a station underneath Sheldon Free City. The doors whoosh open, spit out some commuters and suck up a few more. A dwarf hurries down the platform, slowed by a limp. The subway doors begin to close, but just before they meet a dwarf jams a cane in between, stopping them. The dwarf is Eilin, dressed in . There's a hard wisdom in Eilin's eyes that may not have been there a few years ago. She knows that you think, and she doesn't care. Eilin finds a seat on the crowded subway car and sits down. She looks awful. Tired. Weathered. She notices a curious man across from him staring at him. Nervy, the Curious Man gets up and approaches.

"Shit." Eilin said under her breath.

The Curious Man sits down next to Eilin, grinning.

"You're her, aren't you?" he said.

"Excuse me?" Eilin said.

"The girl. The scientist. I saw you on TV." he said.

"I believed you," he said conspiratorially.

There was no response from Eilin. The guy leans in even closer.

"Roooooarrr."

Eilin gets up and moves to another seat on the car, away from the Curious Man. As she sits down, she notices two other commuters across from her are staring at her, that special look reserved for those involved in some kind of scandal.

Eilin looks at them. They look away. She pulls the collar of her coat up tight around herself.

Vance's Apartment

Eilin stands in the foyer of an expensively decorated Park Avenue apartment. A Uniformed butler faces him.

"Whom shall I tell Count Vance is calling?" he asked.

"Eilin. I've been summoned." Eilin said.

The Butler lets her in with a breaf nod.

As the Butler turns to go down the hall, Peter Ludlow walks out of the same hall, carrying a sheaf of papers. He sees Eilin and hesitates, then smiles tightly. They know and dislike each other.

"Well, . Here to tell a few campfire stories with my uncle?" Ludlow said.

"Do me a favor, Ludlow. Don't ever pretend you and I don't know the truth. You can convince Time magazine and the Skeptical Inquirer of whatever you want, but I was there. I know what happened and so do you." Eilin said argerly.

"You're lucky we didn't sue you. You signed a non-disclosure agreement before you went to the island that expressly forbid you from discussing anything you saw. You violated that agreement." Ludlow said.

"And you lied. Do you have any idea how you quick to condemn the academic world is? You cost me my livelihood. My reputation." Eilin continued.

"As I understand it, your university revoked your tenure for selling wild stories to the press, I hardly see how that's my…" Ludlow started.

"I didn't sell anything, I told the truth." Eilin said, snorting.

"Your version of it." Ludlow said, keeping his cool.

"There are no versions of the truth. This isn't a corporate maneuver; I'm talking about my life." Eilin said.

"We made a generous compensatory offer for your injuries." Ludlow reminded her.

"It was a payoff and an insult. InGen never-" Eilin began.

"InGen is my livelihood, Dr. Malcolm, and I will jealously defend its interests." Ludlow interuppted.

"In a few weeks time, it'll all be moot. And your problems will long forgotten." Ludlow continued.

He starts to walk out, but Eilin catches him by the arm.

"Not be me." She said.

"Careful," Ludlow said. "This suit costs more then your education."

Eilin enters a darkened bedroom. Count Vance lies in the bed on the other side of the room. Medical equipment has been disguised as well possible among the furniture and flowers, but the sheer abundance of it tells her that whatever has stricken him is going to win this battle.

"Eilin! Don't linger in the doorway like an ingénue, come in, come in!" Count Vance shouted from bed.

Eilin steps further into the room.

"It's good to see you, it really is. How's the leg?" Vance said.

"Resentful." Eilin replied.

"You were right and I was wrong. There! Did you ever think you'd hear me say that?" Vance said.

"Thank God for Site B." He said under his breath.

"Site B?" Eilin said in surprise.

"Isla Nublar was just a showroom, something for the tourists, Site B was the factory floor. It was on Isla Sorna, eighty some miles from Nublar. We bred the animals there, nursed them until they were a few months old, then moved them to the park," Vance began."After the accident at the park, Hurricane Clarisse wiped out Site B. Call it an act of God. We had to evacuate and the animals were released to mature on their own in the wild. Life found a way, as you once so eloquently put it. And for four years, I've fought to keep them safe from human interference."

Eilin looked at Vance, her gaze filled with surprise.

"Hopefully you kept this island quarantined and contained, but I'm shocked about all of this. You bred them lysine-deficient, didn't you? They should've died after seven days without supplemental enzymes."

"But by God, they're flourishing, aren't they?! I don't know how, it's only one of a thousand questions I want the team to answer." Vance replied.

"Oh, please, please don't tell me you were foolhardy enough to…" Eilin said.

"I've organized a group to go in and document them, to make the most spectacular living fossil record the world has ever seen. It's not been easy to convincing any of them about what they're going to see. In the end I had to use my checkbook to get them there. I'm covering all the expenses myself." Vance began. "Our satellite infrareds show the animals are fiercely territorial, they demarcate and defend specific areas and stay in them. The carnivores are isolated in the interior of the island, so the team will stay on the outer rim."

"How many lunatics are on this team?" Eilin asked.

Vance picks up a thick file folder from the night table next to him and opens it on his lap. Inside, there are memos, charts, maps, and photographs.

"Four." Vance said after he read the file.

"Four?! You should be going in there with the National Guard!" Eilin shouted.

"Exactly wrong! Ask any animal behaviorist, the best results come from the lowest impact, the animals shouldn't even know you're there. One observes and documents, but does not interact. Attempting to control the environment is where I went wrong the first time, you told me so yourself. I'm not making the same mistakes again." Vance said.

"No, you're making all new ones! My God, if you want to protect those animals, do the groundwork, get legislation passed! If you want to observe them, you do it safely, by satellite, or helicopter, but you don't just barge in there with a camcorder! Who are these people? What are their names?" Eilin said, her voiced filled with worry.

"Nick van Owen, a video documentarian; Eddie Carr, a field equipment specialist; we also have a paleontologist… and I hope you will be the fourth." Vance said, handing Eilin parts of the file.

Eilin looks at him with a "you're out of your mind" look.

"Do you even listen when I speak?" Eilin asked angrily.

"Public opinion is the only thing that can preserve Site B now. You have always been my harshest critic. If you come out as an advocate with me, it'll mean everything. I know how obsessive you can be once you truly embrace an idea. We can come forward, together, with ironclad proof of their existence." Vance said.

"You must already have proof. DNA splicing, the cloning, the births…" Eilin began.

"Only in captivity! I need to show them in their natural habitat to stir up emotional support for keeping that island pristine. This is my last chance to contribute something of real value. I can't walk so far to have left no footprints. I will not be known only for my failures, and you are too smart and too proud to let yourself go down in history as a hoaxster. Please. This is a chance at redemption for both of us." Vance said, pleading.

"That's selfish and grandiose. No, John, I won't go. Absolutely not. And I'm going to contact every member of your team and stop them from going." Eilin said.

He picks up the file from the bed and starts flipping through it.

"You didn't mention the name of the paleontologist. Who did you get?" Eilin asked.

Vance looks away guiltily.

"He came to me. I just want you to know that." Vance said.

"Who did?" Eilin asked, turning back to Vance.

"I want to be very clear about who approached whom." Vance said.

"Who are you talking about?" Eilin asked, though she thinks she already knows.

"Leave it to you, Eilin, to have associations, affiliations, even love interests with the best people in so many fields . . ." Vance began.

"You didn't contact Simon?!" Eilin said.

"There is no one else! Paleontological behavior study is a brand new field, and Sarah Harding is on the frontier. His theories on parenting and nurturing among carnivores have framed the debate for the last five years, who else could have - - what are you doing?" Count Vance asked.

Eilin is up, searching under piles of papers and dossiers on Vance's desk.

"Where's your phone?" She asked quickly and picked up his phone.

"You're too late," Vance said quietly. "He's already there."

Eilin stops and turns, a terrified look on her face.

"The others are meeting her in three days." Vance continued.

"You sent my boyfriend to this island alone?" Eilin said in a painful whisper.

"'Sent' is hardly the word, he couldn't be restrained! He was adamant about making the initial foray by himself. 'Observation without interference,' he said, went on and on about it." Vance said.

"What is it, you couldn't kill me the first time, so you recruited Simon to manipulate me into going down there again?! Is that it?!" Eilin said angirly.

"It wasn't intentional! You know how he is, better than anyone! After you were injured in the park, he sought you out, didn't he, traveled all the way to the hospital in Hinomoto and asked someone he didn't even know if the rumors were true! He's a firebrand once he's engaged on a subject, how could I refuse him the chance to complete his life's work?!" Vance said, shocked.

"This is criminal, and I will never forgive you for it. You want to leave your name on something, fine, but stop putting it on other peoples' headstones!" Eilin shouted.

"He's going to be fine. He's spent years studying predators, sleeping down wind and all that. He knows what he's doing. Believe me, the research team-" Vance began.

Eilin stands, resolute, making a decision.

"No, It's not a research expedition any more. It's a rescue mission. It's leaving tonight and I'm going with it." she said before walking out of Vance's room.

Vance looked at the file and then counted his fingers before smiling.


I hope you enjoyed this chapter, if there are any mistakes fill free to tell me! Also I could not think of anyone else, so bite me!

-Quintian Creepy Kiss X