Chapter 5

The air smelled faintly of freshener, and the mint on the pillow completed the look. Still, it was a far more "home-like" hotel room than she was used to. Warm wood walls, and cream coloured furniture both worked to try and null some of the "hyper-modern" look of the rest of the park.

Her attention was less on the appeal to comfort, and more on her bags. Once they had been dismissed from the tour to settle into their rooms, she had taken that as her excuse to go check her things.

As she unzipped her suitcase, she smiled to herself, thankful Jurassic World has such heavy American investments. No security footage in the hotel rooms, which meant she was free to do whatever she wanted. Not that she wanted to be restricted to her room for her operations.

Lifting the lid, she began to sort through the materials she had packed with her. First came the books, each stuffed to the brim with other papers so as to protect them. Carefully, she opened up the first one, removing the pages she had placed inside. The papers had been painstakingly manipulated to fit perfectly with the other pages of the text, and she gently unfolded them, feeling the familiar crinkling of the aged paper as she flattened them out. She took a moment to admire the map of Nublar, unmarred by any human structures aside from indications of a couple of villages. No matter how they had reclaimed the island, it still bore the old face.

There were quite a few more papers like it. Most of the maps in Die Funf Todesarten dealt with Sorna, but the ones in The Next Step: An Evolution of God's Concepts were all Nublar. Technically, those were more important right now, but she could afford a moment of sentimentality.

Maps of the Atherton monorail plans, and staging plans were all meticulously laid out through the years of construction. She smiled to herself as she saw some dates slated for after the hurricane that had caused the evacuation. Plans that would never come to be, and were likely forgotten by the world. Idly, she wondered how much these would go for to a collector. Last she had checked, even the shirts from the old park sold at a pretty high price.

Next were the drives. Sliding one of the black boxes out, she checked the label just to make sure nothing had gotten misplaced. A timespan; one of the generic surveillance drives. Mentally checking the calendar, she made a note to backup the videos to her server before wiping it. It was almost time to overwrite the oldest ones.

The next few were also dated, and she set them aside according to order before finally picking up one of her more permanent ones. Velociraptor Footage. A small smile came to her lips as she gently traced the label, the images practically flashing before her eyes. The lithe, graceful hunters at all stages of their lives, perfectly captured here. She could pull up footage of the first kills, or the hatching of a raptor. She could find every sufferer of any of the island's diseases, and the seasonal behaviour all in one drive. Carefully culled from the years of footage into one chalice of information.

And the several drives beside it were the same to the other species. Of all the things she removed from her suitcase, she was most careful with these. John Hammond's motto had been in full force on these; they had been carefully selected to be resilient to just about anything that would ever threaten them and more, with a capacity that would make some professional programmers water at the mouth.

The last two were of similar design, but Cathy picked them up more eagerly, reading the labels with a borderline psychotic level of glee. Suchomimus and Mosasaurus, the two species that hadn't been made on Sorna. Technically, she wouldn't be doing anything with them, but she couldn't turn down the opportunity. After all, the Suchomimus would be interesting to compare to the Baryonyx, and the Mosasaur had no contemporary on Sorna, for good reason.

Granted, they at least had the common sense to hold the Mosasaur in the Lagoon, unlike the first park, which had started construction of the aquatic center near the northern beaches just before everything went to hell. Setting down the drives, she pulled out her phone, making a note to visit the site, and see if anything remained there. It would be beyond the fence, but she would be headed there anyway in the future. Besides, it would be fascinating to see. While the disaster would have potentially released the planned Tylosaurus, a part of her was sad they had not got that far. She would have her hands on the data by now if they had.

Looking at the information spread out in front of her, she took a moment to inhale, a shiver sliding along her spine at the smell of old paper. This was her comfort zone.

In the meantime, it would do her well to get them set into a more discreet, but still accessible place. Her eyes immediately fell on the desk, appraising its size. Picking up one of the drives, she opened one of the drawers, comparing to see if it would fit. She could probably fit a few in there.

With the drawers in the heavy desk, she would be able to store her drives easily, but that still left the maps. But she had come prepared. Opening her second suitcase, she pulled out a couple of binders, the plastic sheets within flapping around as she angled it.

Opening it, she carefully began slipping the pages into the sheets, selecting only the Nublar ones. She would have a second binder for her Sorna maps. That would come later.

Seeing both binders in front of her gave her a sense of accomplishment, and a small part of her took pride in just how well she had prepared for this. She knew better than to jinx it, though. These people were prideful, not dumb. That would afford her some amount of blindness, but she still had to be careful, especially where they were watching.

The park had coverage of the entire island with its surveillance, with only small blind spots, like the hotel rooms. It still had its weaknesses, like not being able to track individual positions, but even so, it was something to be worried about. Not to mention if she was needed while far out of range. She would have to be organized.

Looking around, a part of her itched to keep moving, to take the next step, to lay the next plan, but she knew there was nothing she could do right now. All she could do was relax for the evening.

There were still a few things to do. Transfer her clothes to the closet, unpack her small items, and hook up her laptop. She decided once she had wrapped up, she would finally take a breather, and maybe watch some of the raptor footage. She still had some synthesizing to finish on that end. She almost had the newest version right where she wanted it. As an afterthought, she made a note to move some of the more pertinent audio files to her phone later. It would make for good field testing.

The raptor footage hadn't kept her attention for long. Not when there were dinosaurs nearby.

It was too late for her to get anywhere near the fields and spend any decent amount of time looking at the park, so she had decided to stay closer. Main Street had been a bit too noisy with families going for dinner, and others going for drinks.

Fortunately, that meant that the Underwater Observatory was relatively empty. There were still certainly crowds, but they moved regularly, sliding through to see the next scene.

Cathy ignored them in favour of leaning against the glass, peering into the gloom. The mineral content of the water, and the careful treatment process meant that the water was going to be murky even in direct sunlight, but she still felt a little disheartened that she could only see so much.

Still, it was calming. As time went on, there were less and less crowds, and the families seemed keen on being in their own little world. She was left to just herself, and the immense weight of the atmosphere.

A shade in the gloom made her perk up, and she carefully pressed her ear to the glass, closing her eyes as the cold began to trickle through her skin. She couldn't filter everything out, but she was able to pick up on some sounds.

It was low, as expected of such a large organism, but she would have to get an audio sampling later to account for the water shifting the pitch. The rumble was something she was accustomed to from listening to the larger carnivores.

She could almost imagine the tiny micro-movements of the skin about its neck as it growled, shaking slightly like a Tyrannosaurus. She wondered how the fatty tissue around the neck would affect the sound.

Quietly, Cathy listened to the sound, mind filtering and comparing other sounds and facts. There were so many questions to be asked of such a simple thing as even the unconscious vocalizations. It was a shame there was only one sample. She would have to check the Plesiosaur Pond at some point in order to compare.

"Great sound, isn't it?"

Cathy's eyes snapped open, and she briefly glared at the person talking to her before her eyes snapped to the Jurassic World nametag. Sarah Niobrara, Mosasaur Handler.

Sarah's eyes were fortunately looking out into the water rather than at Cathy, and she forced the frustration off her face. She tried to read the other woman's expression, before deciding it was likely part of their normal bit. Talk about some basic facts, make some talk, pitch the show time. Standard procedure.

"It's certainly unique." A basic agreement, but she felt a sense of burning curiosity, one that pressed her to continue. "You know...I have heard that whales can adjust their calls to the background volume. I wonder if the Mosasaurus can do the same."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sarah turn towards her with a brief look of appraisal. "That is an interesting question. Well, I can tell you from my own experience that it is certainly louder when it comes above water. That's what these are for."

Sarah chuckled slightly as she pulled a pair of earplugs out of her pocket. "Many of the dinosaurs peak over a hundred decibels, and the Mosasaurus is no exception. Most of the time, that isn't an issue, but when it breaches the surface, the roar it emits can eventually wear down hearing."

Cathy wasn't even bothering to hide her interest. "How about their hertz? How many vocalizations slip below auditory levels?"

"Some do. Fortunately, the Mosasaurus only really uses them while submerged," Sarah explained before pausing a moment. "Are you one of the new hires? You seem to be a bit more interested in the topic than some."

"Just shipped on today. Thought I might check out some of the attractions," Cathy responded easily. She looked back out at the water, gears in her brain turning. She wanted information, but she was unsure how far to push it.

At most, Sarah would likely just put in a mention of her being interested, and maybe suspect she had studied a bit beforehand. No, better to make it seem like she was more questioning than knowing.

"How does their biology affect their sound?"

For some odd reason, Sarah seemed to take a second to compose an answer. Maybe it had been too much to assume she intimately knew their biology. "Well, it's not something we've studied a whole lot outside of a safety perspective."

Sarah shrugged at the end, though something in her expression seemed a little uncomfortable. Cathy tried to put on her best smile. "Don't worry, I won't squeal on you."

"The specifics of the animal's biology are a patented secret, but from my own experience, as it has gotten older, the sound it makes has gotten deeper, and has a bit more of a rumble. I would say the pitch has to do with its size, but I'm not sure about the rumble. The larynx substitute in birds was developed after the dinosaurs, so I don't think it's that. It might have to do with the palette."

Cathy nodded, looking at the Mosasaurus as it passed. It wasn't like they could easily look in its mouth and see how everything worked. But more on the forefront of her mind was the information leading into that. The workers didn't know the specifics of their dinosaurs.

She had known about that policy for a long time, but assumed the handlers were given some kind of dossier about basics. From the sound of it, they were given a set of policies and rules, and told to follow them. That was a very interesting confirmation of her suspicions.

"Any ideas on their lungs? Are they unidirectional like a crocodile's?"

"More like whales. That much I do know, but I had to look that up myself. Let me tell you, it was some stiff competition getting this job. Do you know how many people would kill to be a Mosasaurus handler?"

"I can only imagine," Cathy half-sympathized. "What lead you into it?"

"I worked as an animal trainer. Paleontology kind of interested me, but I wasn't the type to go out and dig the fossils up. Caught someone's eye, and got recommended here. Pretty lucky in that regard."

Cathy suspected she was more than just "eye catching" if she got recommended here. She made a note to look into her occupational history first chance she got. Might be useful to understand the kind of people they were hiring. In the meantime, this was a unique opportunity.

She could easily work out as much information as she could glean from Sarah, but she suspected there was more she could do. Getting a job was all about impressing the bosses and building a rapport. This could easily be the start.

"So what's it like working with the animals?"

"Well, the Mosasaurus is a bit different than some of the other marine animals I've worked with. A lot of them are pretty friendly, if occasionally temperamental. The Mosasaurus works on its own schedule. We can influence it by offering it food, but it can regulate its metabolism how it wants, and it knows it will get fed eventually."

"Seems like it would be a problem for the show."

"Well, even if it doesn't breach, the meal will attract its attention. We have the submerging seats in order to ensure they get at least part of a show," Sarah explained. "You ever seen them?"

"Only in videos," Cathy explained with a shrug. Honestly, she didn't really care. It was all spectacle, with no real research purpose. She raised an eyebrow as Sarah fished in another pocket, drawing out a slip of paper and a pen. A quick scrawl later, and she passed the paper over to Cathy.

"Just write the date and time of the show, and it will get you into the front rows. Wear something you don't mind getting soaked. Afterwards, we can talk a bit more about the Mosasaurus. Sound good?"

Cathy was silent for a moment, holding the slightly cool piece of paper in her hand, processing what had happened. She could use that time to do a lot, but at the same time, this was building connections. "Alright, sounds like a good plan. You gotta get going?"

"Actually, we should all be headed out," Sarah explained, tapping her watch. "Exhibit's closing soon, so I need to start clearing people out. Good luck with your orientation. Try and work with Dr. Withers."

Cathy filed the information away for later, still not entirely sure what had happened. The corner of her lip curled in a small smile, and she tucked the ticket away. She could use this.

She would have to review her footage, and find out more about the handlers. The more she thought about it, the more she thought she could recognize Sarah from her footage. It would be a bit of a task trying to track her connections, but this gave her a way to trace the information up to the top. She would peel it back layer by layer until she could take it, and exploit every last second of it.