Welcome to Chapter 3! Just a quick note, I introduced this time in history as the late Jurassic in the last chapter. We're all going to change that to the late Cretaceous, savvy? Exactly why will be made clear in this chapter. Enjoy! On a side note, if there are any specific hijinks you'd like the characters to get into, sound it off in the reviews. Everything will be considered! Thanks!
"The late Cretaceous?" Sherman exclaimed. "But Mr. Peabody, we've never traveled to this era!"
"And it is right that we haven't. If I'm reading this panel correctly, and, well, of course I am, we are dangerously close to the mass extinction event that directly led to the end of the dinosaurs. Kids, our first priority is going to be figuring out what's wrong with the WABAC and getting us home!"
The two teenagers nodded in agreement while Penny inwardly marveled at how quickly situations could change with the Peabody's. One moment they were eating a snack of purple grapes and celery with organic peanut butter, next they were marveling at the bloodshed in Normandy, and now, before she could catch her breath, they were dodging dinosaurs. What could even the next hour bring?
With Peabody's difficulty getting around, it would fall to Penny and Sherman to collect the resources they would need and survey the ship to assess for any damage. Penny was relieved when the canine prodigy ordered them not to split up. It wasn't that she was scared…okay maybe a little scared. These were dinosaurs after all and not all of them would be herbivores. But she also had grown to relish in her time alone with Sherman. There was no one she trusted more and no one she would rather explore a new world with. She understood him as he understood her. They often didn't have to say a word on excursions to know what the other needed, soundlessly handing a collection jar or giving a boost to the second floor balcony of Queen Cleopatra's palace. They were the best of teams.
That's not to say they didn't talk. Because they did…incessantly. They often couldn't get enough of talking with each other, continuing long after they returned to the WABAC until Mr. Peabody would have to order 5 minutes of silence so he could think straight. They would then fall into occasional giggles from Penny or chuckles from Sherman and lots of silent messages shared only with their eyes.
As they progressed down the levitating steps of the WABAC, Mr. Peabody instructed them to point their cameras at the hull and he would monitor the footage from the Captain's chair. The unearthed dirt from their landing was soft beneath their feet, slightly spongy with a little bit of bounce. The air smelled like fresh linen, or at least the way fresh linen should smell if the pictures on the bottle were any indication. One thing was certain, the New York of the future where everything ran on cow flatulence, a clean but pungent alternative fuel, was a long way off.
Sherman progressed clockwise around the sphere as Penny made her way in reverse, both slowly panning their camcorders up and down the height of the ship. Sherman didn't have his mind quite in the job though. He was always this way at first when they landed on a new planet, as he liked to think of them. In his mind, everywhere they went could be far off on the other side of the universe, a distant drama that he was able to partake in and influence, spreading his touch to all corners of existence. It was a daydream, anyway.
Sherman searched through the tall tree tops for signs of life, any sign of movement, some indication of what their time here would be like. He was, in a way, looking for danger, but also for adventure. Ever since he had met Penny she had inspired in him a call of the wild, so to say, a thirst for new thrills and a desire to go further than he ever had. It was just one of the positive influences she had on him even if Mr. Peabody would still mutter under his breath "Hooligan" every now and then, only half-way meaning it. Sherman couldn't blame him. It couldn't be easy seeing your son transform from one of constant obedience to willful independence. As Peabody grew older, it became more difficult to bail Sherman and Penny out of the jams they would find themselves which forced them to become more self-sufficient, often taking on the persona of their mentor if only to try and think up an elaborate plan out of a predicament. Sometimes it even worked! Sometimes…
"Sherman, what do you think of this plant life? It's massive!" Penny asked, gazing at a fern three times taller than she was.
"I know, and they look really similar to some plants we have back home, only bigger. I think Peabody has that one in a pot in the kitchen." Sherman said, pointing to a particularly colorful tulip with petals five feet long.
"Alright you two, I have the footage I need. I'll go over it while you gather the supplies I listed and see if I can spot any abnormalities. We're one step closer to getting home!" Peabody exclaimed, trying to keep spirits high. Inside he worried though, the late Cretaceous was no place for a couple of teenagers, capable though they may be. The fact that this was the reign of Tyrannosaurus Rex may be the least of their worries with what dangers lurked in the jungles.
But no, worrying like that wouldn't help anything. He would just have to trust he had prepared the two adequately for their mission. They truly were two of the most impressive humans he knew. The way they adapted to any situation always made him proud. It also hadn't escaped his notice how they relied upon each other, trusted each other. "Two peas in a pod, those two," Peabody chuckled quietly to himself.
"What was that, Mr. Peabody?" Sherman asked.
"Uh, nothing, Sherman, just good luck you two. I know you'll make me proud!"
With that, the two embarked, hand-in-hand, each telling themselves it was for stability against the uneven terrain.
Peabody began to scrub through the high-definition footage of the outside of the ship.
Deep in the forest, a pterosaur nest began to rise with the early dawn.
A sauropod loped towards the local watering hole.
A cloud bank moved in from the east.
And high above, beyond the stratosphere and ozone, beyond the moon's decidedly more elliptical orbit than modern man would recognize, a behemoth of a rock crept silently through the black.
Waiting.
Waiting.
