Act One – The Future
Chapter One
The sponge made that very wet squelching noise before it was plunged back into the basin, the plates and cutlery making that odd jingle and scrape as they were swirled around together in the water. The lapping of the soapy water sloshed against the porcelain bowl of the basin with a gentle slap. Over the top of it all, Oliver's faint hum acted like the tempo for the mundane performance of doing the dishes. His humming was familiar and reliable, very much like him. And just like him, it was a more than a little bit comforting, and more than a little bit infuriating.
Beth sat upright on the couch, eyes wide and mouth slightly open as she watched the news. Or tried to, her fingers twitching in annoyance every time that low hum dipped in and out of hearing, distracting her from the incredible things she was seeing in front of her.
When the story broke that morning, she'd not believed it. Even when the first grainy photos were shown on the news reports, when the stories of those caught in the incident and the rumours that were circulating were seeping through into every living room and television set in the country, she couldn't believe it. Refused to. But there it was. Plain for all the world to see now.
She swallowed the hard lump in her throat as a blurry image of the animal was displayed. But blurry or not, it was clear as day as to what it was. What the world must have been thinking, she dare not fathom. She couldn't even gather her own thoughts at this point. She sucked the remnants of dinner from her teeth as the next photo was shown, followed by an interview with an average looking family of three, a small boy looking excited whilst the parents decidedly did not. Oliver's humming stopped for a moment.
"They still reporting on this?" he said, without turning round from the basin. "It's crazy. It'll all turn out to be a hoax or something. Some publicity stunt or some shit. Probably that mathematician guy again…"
"Shhh!" hissed Beth, leaning forward and flapping a hand in his direction as the interview ended and the anchor came back into shot in the CNN newsroom. Bernard Shaw started talking again as they rolled some new footage, the images turning to that of a ship sailing on the ocean, the camera circling around a heavy looking set of bay doors on its deck.
"…and there's a really first rate shot of the deck of this ship,'' Shaw was saying, his seasoned news anchor style of delivery commanding a professional quality, keeping Beth hooked on his every word, "and the cargo hold that contains, for the moment anyway, the animals itself, presumably with the infant alongside."
Beth stared at the shot of the ship, trying to pierce those cargo doors with her eyes.
"…now, by our calculations," continued Shaw, "they should be nearing the halfway point of this trip. Jim, can you still hear me there?"
A new voice took over.
"Yes I can Bernard. We are in fact halfway to the island…"
The island? Beth felt her palms get damp with the sudden sweat, the sudden itching. She rubbed them into the knees of her pants, sucking at her teeth again. Oliver's humming had returned, and it was becoming more infuriating than it was comforting now. Beth watched the footage of the Navy warships surrounding the cargo ship, the sight of that amount of firepower somehow making it even more unbelievable. The voice over was still talking, but Beth was beginning to lose focus, her head swimming with the realisation and gravity of what she was witnessing. The sudden return to Shaw in the newsroom jolted her back to the present.
"Okay. We're going to take a moment here and run the tape of our interview earlier today with John Hammond, he's the former head of InGen bioengineering. The man who has come forward to spearhead this movement, not only to return these animals to their island but, to keep the island itself, intact…" The screen cut to a new image.
And there he was.
The breath caught in Beth's throat, seeing him. He'd aged. And he looked ill. But she could still see the twinkle in his eye. The warmth of the man almost spread from the television set as she looked at him, his white hair and beard neatly combed, and that soft, grandfatherly voice. A voice she'd listened to. A voice that made her believe. A voice that had promised everything for the future. Her future.
Until a freak storm and ensuing forced silence had robbed her of it. Robbed everyone. Her hands had relaxed on her knees, and she was no longer itching. But her head was exploding with long silenced memories as Hammond spoke.
"…It is…absolutely imperative, that we work with the Costa Rican department of biological preserves, to establish a set of rules for the preservation and…isolation, of that island. These creatures,'' Beth felt her pulse quicken as he acknowledged them, "require our absence to survive, not our help. And if we can…only step aside, and trust in nature…life will find a way…"
Oliver sat down next to her with a thump, exhaling and looking bored, as if the discovery and recent rampage of a once extinct animal was commonplace on the news these days. He pointed at the screen.
"Who's the old guy?"
"John Hammond," said Beth, frowning slightly, a bit more annoyed with him than before.
"How'd you know that?" asked Oliver, surprise etched into his voice. Beth looked sideways at him, her mind spilling over with images from a former life. A secret life.
"They put his name on the screen,'' she said, wondering if he even noticed the half a seconds hesitation on her voice. He sniffed and looked like back at the set, boredom slapped across his face again.
"Who is he then? Guy looks like Colonel Sanders."
"He's the head…" Beth frowned again, almost grimacing, "former head of the company responsible for last night's incident. They created the tyra…" she coughed sharply. "The animal."
"Still reckon it's all a trick. Some sort of advertisement. I mean, come on. They don't expect people to believe this do they?"
"People died, Olly,'' said Beth. "Last night. This happened. This is real."
"How can it be?" he said, looking at her as if he thought she was stir-crazy. "I'd have thought you'd be the first to be sceptical." She turned to look at him, raising one eyebrow at him. They way her mother did to when she was annoyed.
"The footage and photos are pretty convincing,'' she said. Not that she needed to be convinced. And not that she really cared if he was or wasn't. Oliver just shrugged, reclining into the corner of the couch and sticking a long leg out.
"Day or two more, this will be old news. Hey I think the game is on. D'ya mind if we turn over?" He'd asked if she minded, but she knew full well he was going to change it regardless of her answer. She sighed and shook her head, trying to give him a smile but managing a sort of pinched look of worn-down patience.
She slid off the couch and made her way to the kitchen, leaning on the breakfast bar and staring out the window, seeing her faint reflection stare back. Beyond the glass, the traffic and ceaseless noise of the street below carried on. Another typical day in Washington D.C. Seemed as if the world out there didn't really care about what it had just witnessed either. But Beth cared.
She'd tried to not care, for the last four years, she'd really tried. From the moment it all went wrong, when her future had evaporated into silent mediocrity. Four years of denying who she'd been, of what she'd done. Of what she had been a part of. Forgetting it all and accepting the tedious lab work at the university as a compromise.
She closed her eyes, the noise outside drowning out until she could hear all the sounds in her head. The hiss of the cryo-storage cylinders when they were raised. The whir and hum of the robotic arms. Even Arnolds damn updates over that damn tannoid. She'd give anything to hear it all again, like it used to be.
But she'd been asked to forget. Forced even, under threat of prosecution should she dare break that NDA. And she'd done it. Like so many others.
She snorted in dry amusement, Hammonds words from the interview echoing in her head. Seemed the old life had found a way to come back, in more ways than one. And the secret was out now. How it would unfold from here was anyone's guess.
She glanced over at the drainer, seeing Oliver's attempts at washing up. The plates were stacked neatly on the frame, just how she liked it, the last of the soapy suds just dripping off onto the porcelain and running into the basin. The cutlery was ordered neatly as well, again, just how she liked it. He could be an oaf, but he listened. A brown smudge caught her eye on one of the plates, just on the underside of the edge. A spot of sauce that he'd missed. She sighed, feeling her lips purse together exactly how her mothers did. That made her even more irritable and she looked away, the events of the day's news pushing away any desire to scold him for the failure of the simple task of washing up.
Seemed a bit trivial in the moment though.
The phone rang with a sudden and intrusive chirp. Oliver hadn't even moved, his head fixed in the direction of the set and the moving image of those knuckle dragging morons chasing after a ball. Her lips pursed together again and she crossed the apartment to the cradle where the phone lived, plucking it from the side table.
"Hello?"
"Elizabeth? Elizabeth Weaver?" The voice was familiar. Beth frowned as she tried to place it, her eyes growing a fraction wider as she realised who was on the other end. Beth glanced at Oliver, unsure of a sudden. She placed a hand over the speaker on the phone. "Olly, it's my sister. I'm going to take this in the bedroom."
Oliver waved a vague hand at her, grunting something without turning from the game. Probably wouldn't have budged if the animal from last night had crashed through the door. Beth held the phone to her chest as she slipped into the bedroom and gently closed the door, making sure of it with a soft hand before darting to the bed and sitting cross legged on the mattress.
"Susie?" said Beth, feeling a strange flutter in her stomach. First the news, and now this? "How did you get my number? Its been years." Four years in fact, ever since they'd left the island on that boat in that storm.
"I know some people,'' said Susie, her voice sounding as if knowing people classified you as an international spy. "Did you see the news?"
"Of course,'' said Beth, shaking her head. Hadn't everyone? "Susie, why are you calling? We were told not to speak with anyone from the company after we left."
"Well, given the news, don't you think those terms seem a bit superfluous now?" Beth found the frown had returned. Her mothers frown. "I could enjoy being your sister though. I liked that touch. Quick thinking. You were always the clever one."
"What's this about Susie?" Beth was feeling agitated. She didn't like feeling agitated.
"What do you mean what's this about? C'mon Elizabeth! The news! The islands. The world knows now! We can talk about it!"
"You called to chat about where we used to work?" She had half hissed the words, unsure of why this was rattling her so much. Susie seemed to be enjoying herself. Beth was not enjoying herself at all.
"Do you know something Susie?" said Beth. The girl had always been a gossip. From day one, when they'd been introduced at the showroom lab on Nublar. Gossip, gossip, gossip. Entertaining in small doses, but Beth tired of the girls incessant need to discuss rumour at every opportunity.
"I do,'' said Susie. Beth took a deep breath, unsure if she wanted to even play this game. "Like I said, I know people."
"What is it?" said Beth, letting out that breath through her nose.
"InGen was behind it all, last night." Susie's voice was excitable.
"Well, that was pretty obvious,'' said Beth. "And the news covered that off. Is that it?" Beth felt a twinge of disappointment.
"No, no! The San Diego bit was just the tip of it all."
"What do you mean?"
"You know how the report said Hammond was the former head of InGen?" said Susie.
"Yes,'' murmured Beth, eyes narrowing.
"So, the Board voted him out. After years of financial loss and lawsuits, they got rid of him."
"Lawsuits?"
"Yeah! After we left the island, turns out the Old Man's guests that were there had a worse time than us being told to keep our mouths shut. You remember them? That leggy blonde and the guy with that hat? And Hammonds grandkids?"
Beth pictured them, or tried too at least. She'd glimpsed them from the opposite side of the rotunda in the Visitor Centre as they were leaving for the tour.
"What happened?" said Beth, finding her palms were itching again.
"People died! And the Park got hacked! You remember that fat guy, that worked in Control? He took the Park offline, and then disappeared. Ray Arnold died too! And that British game warden, with the shorts! The animals got out and killed them!" Beth's mouth had fallen open. More people dying?
"Susie, how do you know all this?" breathed Beth.
"Well, you know, I know people." Beth pursed her lips.
"Who were you sleeping with Susie?" She couldn't keep the distaste from her voice.
"A lady never tells,'' said Susie, smugly. "But we all know I've never been much of a lady. I might have been fucking a guy from the Board this last year."
"Might have been?"
"Definitely was, then," said Susie. "Its amazing what men will tell you when they are done thinking with their dicks." People never change, thought Beth. Certainly not gossips. "But anyway," carried on Susie. "Sorna got evacuated too. During the same storm. Turns out they got hit harder there and everyone left. People disappeared there too as well."
"We all disappeared Susie,'' said Beth. "Remember? Not a word, we were told. I doubt it was as dramatic as that."
"I dunno," mused Susie, knowingly. "From what I hear, some of the team on Sorna really vanished. But anyway!" The excitement in her voice was back. As if the disappearing of people and a career ending disaster was a thing to be excited about. "Hammonds nephew took over when they voted the Old Man out. And he cooked up this plan to go back to Sorna and, get this, bring the animals back to San Diego to try and revive the abandoned Park there! That's what happened last night! The whole Board was there at the docks when it all started!"
"Revive the San Diego Park?" said Beth, curious. There was a lab there. Small, but a lab nonetheless.
"Yeah. InGen is all but finished, and Ludlow was hoping this would save it and bring the money back in! Went and got himself killed though didn't he."
"Killed?"
"So I hear,'' said Susie. "In the rampage. Not sure how, but he was last heard from near the boat, just before they recaptured the animal. They think it killed him."
"My God,'' said Beth. "Why are you telling me this?" Susie didn't respond at first.
"We're friends, Elizabeth,'' said Susie, sounding as if she was explaining it to a two-year-old. "Besides, I couldn't find Julia's number in the contacts on the system so you were next on my list." A second thought friend then. And even a first thought friend was a bit tenuous in Beth's opinion. "All I'm telling you is what I heard anyway. We should be allowed to talk about this stuff now. If that Malcolm guy can come out and break his silence, then we should too. At least amongst ourselves to begin with. Eventually though, our stories could be worth something!"
"I guess so,'' said Beth, not really guessing. She'd been silent for so long, it felt wrong to be talking about it at all.
"But anyway,'' said Susie. "Thought you'd want to know. I gotta go now. Its been great to talk to you. We should catch up more often. You ever get over to San Diego much?"
"Not really,'' said Beth.
"Shame,'' said Susie. "You should. There's going to be all sorts of things happening with the Board now, and the company. Keep an ear out Elizabeth. And take care. Bye."
"Goodbye Susie,'' said Beth, letting that frown creep back across her face. The racing thoughts and memories that the days news reports had kicked into motion came flooding back in and jostled for space with the gossip from Susie, all clamouring to be looked at in Beth's head. There wasn't enough space. The noise from outside turned from the far-off noise of traffic to the occasional hiss of the wind. Wind that sounded so very much like wind that hissed over the tops of a jungle canopy or the fields of long grass. She could almost see it. That future.
She huffed and got up, going back into the living room and finding Oliver sprawled on the couch, long legs up across her spot. Normally she would have noisily cleared her throat, letting him know he was on thin ice. Now she just looked at him, a vacant kind of look on her face she was unable to be rid of. She felt very vacant inside.
"How is she?" he asked. Beth stammered for a moment.
"Who?"
"Your sister, dummy."
"Oh." She frowned again. Seemed to be a habit of a sudden. "Yeah, she's fine. She's got a new boyfriend."
"That's cool. Hey you want some dessert?"
Beth just shook her head. She didn't want to eat anything. She just wanted to go back.