Mt. Watson, Site B: The vehicle trundled on up the road unaffected by Jake's last revelation.
"Laura is what you'd call a purist," said Henry picking up the conversation. "She thinks that doing genetic modifications to the dinosaurs is fundamentally wrong. As scientists we should be cloning the species to the best of their original specifications. To add the lysine contingency for security or using amphibian DNA to complete the DNA strands is in many ways an abomination in her mind."
"The problem is that purism, while fundamentally not a bad thing, is simply not feasible in the work we do," Jake continued angrily. "We can't have these creatures breeding with zero fail-safes if they were to ever get loose. We saw the dangers of not having a strict set of control methods when A-1 happened! And we wouldn't have dinosaurs to begin with if we hadn't used frog DNA to complete the codes. We'd still be stuck looking at those Crays and virtual reality images of the DNA helixes."
The scientist grumbled briefly to himself before turning to stare out the window.
"A couple years ago just after the A-1 incident, Laura gave some verbal offense to our re-implementation of the lysine contingency," Henry continued, remembering the events in 1991 for the first time in awhile. "Since even in those days she preferred the solitude of the Fortress it wasn't that difficult to track what supplies she was requisitioning and that she might be developing an anti-lysine serum in response. We were suspicious, sure, but then almost her entire batch of beloved troodons had negative reactions to her test sample and were rushed to the veterinary clinic. We had to put them down but once the autopsy was complete the cat was out of the bag." Laura had been noticeably upset about losing her prized specimen, but they'd had no choice given the way they were reacting to the serum.
"What's a…troodon?" asked Sheila curious since she'd slowly begun to memorize all the dinosaur names on the island but there were a lot of them. But troodon was one she'd never heard before.
"A tiny vicious little bastard with a poisonous bite," said Lori from the rear of the vehicle. "I was in the nursery one day playing with some of the babies when one of them accidentally bit me and the next thing I know I'm in the clinic heaving up my lunch. All told I got off easy. When they get bigger their poison gets stronger and then you don't end up in the hospital you wind up in the cemetery." She shuddered.
"Definitely DNS material," Henry remarked off-hand in reference to the "Do Not Ship" List of creatures to never go to Nublar. But according to Harding's story, some apparently had.
"Oh," said Sheila withdrawing slightly. Usually being cooped up in the control room it was easy to forget that while many of the dinosaurs were a marvel to behold; some were similarly terrors.
"So what kind of reaction did they have to her anti-lysine formula. I hope they suffered," said LoRu a little unapologetic after what they'd put her through. Jake had to think about that for a few moments.
"They went into a state of hyper-locomotion and lashed out at anything and everything. Some of the ones that had been experimented on first had become sluggish and nearly comatose after their energy ran out…," the scientist's voice trailed off he stared out the window thoughtfully. He'd forgotten that part and it now deeply troubled him since it bore such similarities to what had happened to the dinosaurs Carly and the rest had performed the lysine contingency on. He shot a sideways glance at Henry who was also mulling over that detail. Unnoticed behind them, Nicolette was writing down what they had said into her notebook along with various annotations to an unseen document.
"Good. Also, I'm sure glad we don't use the Fortress anymore. I hated it up there," the head of production stated looking up at the cloud cover hanging around the mountain that still obscured their view of the structure at the top. "High winds, constant cloud cover, little sun, no venturing out into the island, blech. Not to mention the nightmare of the cloning facility's design that I inherited from you. Needless to say Embyonics Administration still is a breath of fresh air by comparison."
"Everyone's a critic," Jake ruminated while shaking his head lightly as the supply vehicle continued its upward trek to the top of the mountain.
Operations Building, Workers Village: Buried amongst a mountain of papers and other odds and ends, Stephanie Sandelder continued to try and make headway in filing everything in its proper place. At the same time, she was making careful notations of things she felt Ludlow should know about the operations on this island.
San Diego, California: Sarah Harding and Jessica Harding were in her apartment with pictures, names, and notes spread out across the dinner table with strings and other information linking them together. The information that Bob Morris had compiled had been a giant light in the darkness and they were just making some headway into it. But not everything they had found out was positive. For example, of the people Morris had intended to interview, four of them were confirmed dead: Dennis Nedry, John Arnold, Robert Muldoon, and Donald Gennaro. That there were four wrongful death suits that had been pending in the courts but were quickly settled by InGen-with the exception of Dennis Nedry which had been withdrawn-was even more troubling.
"It's still too bad we couldn't get at those court cases," said Jess disappointed as she looked at the diagram in front of her and tried to make sense of it.
"If you want to break into the law offices of Cowan, Swain, and Ross, don't let me stop you," said Sarah laughing off that idea.
"I just don't understand why the newspapers and TV stations aren't reporting on all of this," Jess further ruminated.
"Probably because InGen isn't the first genetics company to run into trouble with their products. Two other genetics companies declared bankruptcy this year and seven have gone under since 1986," said Sarah having had to become an overnight expert in the 5 billion dollar commercial genetics industry. "But I think the names of those still alive are probably of most use to us at this point. Particularly Alan Grant and Ellie Sattler."
"Why do you we have to keep playing games like this, let's go ask John Hammond directly," her sister said trying another approach. Sarah shook her head.
"We don't want to tip InGen off about what we're up to," she reminded her younger sibling. "Besides, I hear John Hammond's health isn't the best these days after whatever happened that killed these other four. He's apparently being treated at exclusive clinics somewhere in Europe. Besides, I'm sure he'd be less enthusiastic to see you after you spilled grape juice over his white outfit during that company picnic."
Jess turned a shade of red at that but in her defense she'd been a cranky thirteen year old at the time who didn't want to be in the California heat and instead relaxing at home. Hammond had taken it good naturedly as he had two grandchildren of his own that were around her age.
"I don't suppose we could get to his grandchildren and ask them if they know anything," Jess asked next. Sarah shrugged.
"Assuming they know anything, they may not have been involved," she pointed out. Her younger sister turned distant at that.
"I think they do know. I'm pretty sure they were there," she said, her gut telling her it was the case even though she still had no recollection of what had happened in Costa Rica except the words "Jurassic Park" whatever that meant.
"Interesting," Sarah acquiesced as she wrote down Hammond's grandchildren's names down and placed them on the table. "Course, I don't know have the slightest clue how to find them."
"Me neither," Jess agreed with a nod. "So what about Grant and Sattler?"
"My university contacts told me they work for the University of Denver and have an InGen funded dig somewhere in the Montana badlands. But if they're now there, in Denver, at some hospital, or being questioned by the Costa Rican government or the United States government I don't know," Sarah said looking at her notebook. "I also wonder if their dig funding isn't in flux after whatever happened during InGen's little outing. Do you think Grant and Sattler were also on the island?" she asked, lightly testing her sister's ability to intentionally recall her time on the island.
Jess squeezed her eyes shut and tried to concentrate for several moments in deep thought.
"She was always my favorite when I was a kid and now that I've seen one she's the most beautiful thing I ever saw," the younger Harding said as if in a trance. Sarah wrote that down.
"What was beautiful?" she prodded further. Jess's head abruptly to the side as a flash of memory occurred to her.
"Lilac berries, every six weeks, poisonous, pupils dilated, gizzard stones," Jess recalled as if stating random things but Sarah got the impression they were related.
"Jess, what was it?" Sarah repeated as she took her sister's hand in hers. Jess's head jerked a couple more times and then she became abruptly still. And then her eyes shot open startling her older sister.
"The shy three-horned beast…Lady Margaret," she said in a guttural voice. And then her eyes slowly closed and then opened and Sarah could tell the spell had ended. She then looked at her sister confused.
"Get anything useful?" she asked as she got up to get a glass of water. Sarah nodded her head.
"Just one more piece in the puzzle," she offered. She then shifted her attention to the list of items InGen had had transferred from the United States to Costa Rica. They had all been sent to San Jose but to the best of her knowledge, InGen had limited facilities in that country. Clearly the words Indigo, Sorna, and Nublar had something to do with it but she was still unsure as to what. Perhaps they were provinces or parts of the jungle or something.
InGen and the Costa Rican jungle…for some reason that triggered a hazy memory of her own of something she'd read once but she wasn't sure what it was. She wrote that down on her "to learn more" list.
"So when do you go to Kenya?" asked Jess cutting into her thoughts as she crashed on the couch and flipped on the TV. Sarah turned from her chair and joined her.
"In about a month," said Sarah not relishing that prospect. She'd been looking forward to the Kenyan expedition for months now. But then this whole mess involving her father had come up and so they were operating under a little bit of a time crunch because the trail could easily run cold by the time she returned.
That triggered another memory and she looked back at her notes at the list of InGen owned facilities and saw that they owned a rather large animal preserve in Kenya. Flipping through more notes from the United States Office of Technology Transfer she saw in the past InGen had transferred some Crays and other gene sequencing devices to Kenya in the early 1980s. But then in 1986 there had suddenly been a massive transfer of technology from Kenya to San Diego and then to Costa Rica, which according to her pamphlet was the same time InGen abruptly stopped all work on the amphitheater.
Bob Morris hadn't been kidding to her when he'd said InGen had cut and run from doing future genetics work in Kenya because of some unknown event. But what made Costa Rica so appealing she wasn't entirely sure.
"How come your TV stations are so fuzzy?" Jess complained frustrated as she continued flipping channels. Sarah inwardly sighed at her sister's impatience but was somewhat glad to deal with more mundane issues.
"Blame Travi Com telecommunications. I read one of their scientists became a little disgruntled and destroyed their new satellite…,"
Docks, Isla Sorna: Jack Thorne was inspecting his W463 Mercedes-Benz SUV as Daniela St. Ives stood nearby still staring at the vehicle a little miffed by its existence.
"You do a good work, Thorne, my techs couldn't make heads of tails of most of the technology in it," she told him, a mixture of impressed and annoyed.
"Most of it is proprietary and isn't something you won't find in the patent office for further trade secrets protection," Thorne commented back.
"I still think it could be a security risk to this island," Daniela told him. "I may not let you leave with it when you're done here."
Thorne obviously wasn't a fan of that idea, but now wasn't the time to argue about it.
"Yeah, this is all tremendously boring but does this mean we can go now?" asked Levine impatient to see more of the interior of the island and not have to do any more walking.
"Yes and no," said the former head of Indigo to him. "This thing is electric and while it does use photo-voltaic cells to primarily recharge its electric battery, the vehicle sometimes still needs a pre-existing charge to run."
Thorne whistled at that, surprised and impressed her team had discovered that much about his vehicle in such a short time.
"The problem being that you're under an energy crunch and so you might not be able to spare the electricity should this thing run down," the equipment specialist supplied. Daniela nodded her head.
"That's correct. Like your vehicle we're in a similar situation where the geothermal vents were supposed to supply our power needs but then we grew beyond their capacity and we needed fuel to power the extra generators. Fuel which is going to run out in 66 days," she reminded the group. "So just make sure you're always conserving what you can. And when it comes to charging that thing up in the near future, you'll have to run it by us first."
"Fair enough," said Thorne agreeably as he fired up the vehicle which came to life with a quiet whisper and Bobbie and the rest climbed in. "Marty, I guess this is goodbye."
Martin Gutierrez was nearby with Gerald Harding and the rest of the DRT Team.
"Sort of, we'll actually be following your path at first but we'll be splitting ways once we reach junction A-57," Harding told the group. "And we're ready to move out also so why don't we travel together."
"Sounds good to me. Bye Daniela, see you later," said Roberta Carter as she closed the passenger side door of the W463 and it headed for the exit in the electrified fence with Gerry's two-vehicle convoy. The three vehicles passed outside and continued down the dirt road. Over the next several minutes there was idle chit chat amongst the occupants of the vehicle and with the other vehicles over the radio. They were almost to junction A-57 when Levine-who had been watching the landscape looking for dinosaurs-cut in.
"Doc can you stop for a moment I think I see someone laying on a large rock out there," he told the driver. Bobbie looked at him confused.
"There shouldn't be anyone out here alone without a vehicle," she stated as she too grabbed her binoculars and peered out hoping they hadn't encountered anyone in distress or possibly a survivor of a random ship that had accidentally landed on Sorna unawares. It took a couple moments of directions from Levine before she found the rock and when she did what she saw caused her to a double-take.
"Holy shit, it's Frankie!" the M.D. exclaimed in utter shock as she fumbled for the radio. "Gerry pull over, I think Frankie's on that rock out in the pasture."
"What?!" shouted Gerry also astonished as his team pulled over also. The occupants all got out and Gerry and Bobbie immediately began conferring.
"She physically looks okay but I don't see her moving not that that's unusual for her," Bobbie said from what she had observed. "But we should be ready for anything."
"Agreed. DRT Team Leader you'll be accompanying us out there. The rest of you stay on point," Gerry ordered as the team nodded its head.
"Pardon my interruption but who the hell is 'Frankie'?" Levine said bewildered. He'd memorized most of the names of the important staff but there had been no Frankie on that list.
"Sorry, Frankie is referring to Dr. Frances White," Bobbie quickly clarified. "She's Sorna's primary animal behaviorist when it comes to these dinosaurs. She often takes week-long excursions by herself into the island but we haven't seen or heard from her in almost four-and-a-half months. So you'll understand why we're excited and concerned upon seeing her again."
"Oh," said Levine still a little confused but otherwise understanding. "Can we go with you?"
Bobbie and Gerry were unsure about that but couldn't think of a reason not to.
"Just be quiet and follow us single file line," Gerry ordered.
"Why, afraid we'll startle her?" asked Thorne in jest. Gerry shook his head solemnly.
"I'm more afraid that we might spook whatever she could be observing and they could come after us," the veterinarian responded grimly. "Let's go."
The group immediately headed out into the field and quietly and carefully made their way out to the rock, making sure they couldn't see any dinosaurs in the process. All the time the occupant on the rock never made a single-move. They had finally reached the base of the rock and were quietly debating who was going to climb up when they were all startled by a new voice.
"By the smell and the sounds of the footprints I'd say six people are right behind me. Judging by the wind hitting the brim of a well-worn hat and sunglasses, what sounded like a stethoscope hitting softly against a notebook, and the smell of a well-oiled rifle; I'd say three of them are Gerry Harding, Bobbie Carter, and one of the DRT Team members. The other three could be anybody but I'm guessing they may be new to the island because they weren't approaching with more hesitancy," said Frances White as she turned around and smiled at the group. "Well am I right?"
The group let out a giant collected breath as Frankie chuckled to herself as she dropped off the rock clutching some well-worn binoculars. The Caucasian woman's red hair shone brightly in the sunny sky but her clothes-green tank top and blue jeans-were visibly torn in places and she smelled a little from being out in the bush for as long as she had. But most noticeable to the inspection team was a noticeable scar crossed her right cheek otherwise marring her alabaster complexion, which was also very dirty.
"That's all you have to say after being gone for so long?!" said Bobbie incredulously as she instantly began checking over the behaviorist. "I thought you were dead, which is why I just lost the office pool on your turning up alive from out here."
"Bobbie!" said Gerry shocked as Frankie laughed her head off before coughing from a very dry throat. The DRT Leader immediately handed her a water bottle and she slowly began drinking from it to avoid throwing up from what was probably heat stroke.
"When we found her destroyed camping equipment back in May I figured that was it," the doctor said unapologetically. "From the looks of things I wasn't that far off. You've lost a good amount of weight, possibly have malnutrition, sunstroke definitely; I'm amazed you're still in one piece."
"I try and be resilient like my subjects of observation," Frankie said dryly as she began wolfing down an MRE that was provided to her next. "But a freak storm and a hadrosaur stampede ruined my equipment. I sometimes stumble across a bunker every now to grab things to eat and use a stream to wash off. But I don't have a map anymore so I've really just been jumping from dinosaur herds and packs to other herds and packs figuring one of them might lead me back to civilization."
The three inspection team members were amazed by all of this.
"And what's today's subject of observation?" Levine had to ask. Frankie looked over at him but was immediately confused.
"I'm sorry but who are you three?" she asked, hoping she hadn't lost any memory at the same time.
"This is Richard Levine, Jack Thorne, and Marty Gutierrez. Guys, Dr. Frances White," said Gerry immediately making introductions. Frankie shook all their hands but given her state, Levine didn't make a pass at her. All three's eyes were immediately drawn to the visible scar on her cheek. Frankie saw that and lightly put her hand up to it.
"No doubt you're wondering about this," she told them as the three sheepishly nodded their heads.
"Animal claw?" asked Gutierrez concerned. Frankie shook her head.
"Close," she said as she rolled up her jeans revealing some more scars on them. "There are from six inch retractable toe claws. But this cheek is from a 9mm round."
The trio were taken aback by that. "Don't be. It saved my life," Frankie clarified.
"A 9mm fired at what?" asked Thorne. A shadow fell over Frances's face.
"Velociraptor," she said haunted. "They have always been my primary subject of interest. For a time I was very connected to the pack and they would let me get near them without any incident. But things slowly changed and they slowly grew more and more aggressive," the behaviorist continued but she deigned to explain what had changed. "Then the raptor that Muldoon always referred to as 'the big one' was introduced into the enclosure. I went in thinking I could use the pack to make friends with her. Instead, they all attacked me under her direction. But their intention wasn't to kill me right away but to make an example of me to anyone else who might impede on their territory and then kill me. The DRT team stormed the place and the bullet that grazed my face caused the raptor about to kill me instead to flee into the jungle.
"I barely made it out of there with my life but I keep this scar as a reminder…of many things," she said sadly before immediately perking up. "But anyway, in response to your earlier question I'm observing protoceratops out in the field. You can go around the rock and see them in the distance, they're very friendly."
Gerry and Bobbie groaned that they'd been so cautious walking up to her for nothing but were still glad she was alive. The group walked in front of the rock while the DRT Team Leader returned to the others at the vehicles. In the distance the short dinosaurs were seen clustered about in three separate areas.
"What're they doing?" asked Gutierrez unable to make anything out with all the grass.
Bobbie was continuing to examine Frances but she still tried to answer the question. "They're clustered around their nests and eggs," she informed the trio as she narrowly warded off the M.D.'s attempt to shove a thermometer in her mouth.
"NESTS?! EGGS?!" shouted Gutierrez immediately before clamping his hands over his mouth as the protoceratops looked their ways briefly before returning their attention back to what they were doing.
Frankie chuckled nervously at his outburst. "I'm not sure your surprise. They're all females so they still lay eggs."
"Oh, right," said Gutierrez a little embarrassed. "Have you seen any hatched eggs?"
"Not since I've been out here observing these creatures," said Frankie dismissively before turning her full attention to Bobby who was now shining her pen light into her eyes to check pupil dilation. "Say, who are these three, new hires?"
Levine looked a little peeved at not being recognized as owner of the Becky Doll line.
"They're here to observe and document the security, stability, and sustainability of Site B," Gerry answered exasperated and amazed she'd been out of the loop so long.
"Why?" asked Frankie bewildered with a tilt of her head. Bobbie shook her head again at her patient's cluelessness.
"Do you even know how long you've been gone?" she asked. Frankie shook her head.
"What's the date?" the behaviorist asked.
"Wednesday, July 12th," Bobbie answered.
"Wow. What year?" asked Frankie next. Bobbie gave her a dim look at what was hopefully a joke.
"You haven't been gone that long," she stated. "But since you have been away, a lot has changed. For one thing, there's no more Jurassic Park."
Frankie's jaw dropped at that.
"Maybe you'd better start at the beginning if that much has changed," the behaviorist recommended.
"An understatement if there ever was one," said Bobbie wistfully as she began recapping what her fellow staff member had missed.
The Fortress, Mt. Watson: Near the top of the summit, a large black cylindrical building sat partly embedded into the rock face near it to provide further stability. Below it steps lead down to a flat surface for parking vehicles and it was there that the resupply team parked their vehicle. David Banks, Dr. Laura Sorkin's assistant, heard the roar of the engine die down and he walked over to the observation window to see the parked vehicle. He'd been busy assisting the doctor and so hadn't really checked on the ETA of the vehicle until it had finally reached the end of its journey. He was carefully sipping his old muddy coffee when his eyes fell on the still operational computer screen and saw that last entry for the gates far below read: "Jake Whitacre".
He immediately spewed out his coffee onto the window and quickly wiped it off to see not only Jake Whitacre but also Henry Wu emerge from the vehicle and stretch their limbs. The assistant then raced into the interior of the building, which was a large open area filled with equipment of all sorts that looked a bit like Frankenstein's Laboratory, except most of the gear was gathering dust from disuse.
At one station, Dr. Laura Sorkin-a middle aged scientist with some slight greying of her hair-was focused on looking through a microscope at some blood samples.
"Dr. Sorkin, Dr. Sorkin, there's something important I need to tell you," said David urgently. Sorkin meanwhile continued to be calm despite his concerns.
"Whatever it is, it can wait until I'm done with my latest observations," she said waving him off. "Just tell the resupply team to leave the drop off in the usual place."
"No, you don't understand, it's-!," began David when the doors noisily swung open as the hinges could've used some oil. Into the area Jake Whitacre and Henry Wu stepped in. Noticing David's anxious state near Dr. Sorkin who had her back to them and wasn't aware they were in the building, Jake silently lifted his finger to his lips to silence him from speaking further. Sighing defeated, David Banks left without another word to go speak with the supply team hoping Laura wouldn't be mad at him later for this.
Quietly walking over to their fellow scientist, Henry leaned against the counter next to her as Jake hopped up onto it from the other side. The scientist was still so heavily observed in her work to the point the she wasn't even really aware they were there.
"Hey Sorkin!" said Jake acting overly enthusiastic at seeing her.
"What're you up to?" asked Henry calmer but no less upset at breaking into her work. Laura was startled briefly at hearing their voices calmly sitting up and pushing away from the table on her squeaky wheeled chair.
"Well, well, well," said Laura Sorkin as she regarded the two scientists. "If it isn't my two favorite people on the whole island."
A chill seemed to fall over the laboratory.