Chapter 13

Normally, the sun shining down was an irritation to Cathy, but she found herself enjoying the moment. The sea breeze was a pleasant temperature; warm enough to be welcome, and cool enough to counter the sun's rays. The smell of salt permeated the air, but in a thin, crisp way that was tolerable compared to the overwhelming smell of Jurassic World's lagoon.

Piloting her small vessel, Cathy could say she was enjoying herself. With the day off, she was making a trip to the coast to pick up the drone she had ordered. Even so, she found the nice day distracting her as her mind wandered idly.

It was refreshing to be out on the waves without anyone around. Out here, she was just herself. No plans, no facades; just her and the boat. She could easily see why so many people got into boating. You could get away from everything for a few hours, or even days.

Plus, having her own boat meant she didn't have to catch one of the public or service boats back to the mainland. Just the thought of getting on one of those again made her shudder. She couldn't deal with the partiers or the noisy families. The fact that she'd been forced to take the cruise line down the first time was bad enough, but they hadn't been able to get her boat registered with Jurassic World in time for her arrival.

Now that the Interloper was all registered, she was set to go. The little boat was narrow in profile and small in size. Under the captain's deck, there was a living room and an attached bedroom, and that was it. Her parents could have afforded a more luxurious vehicle, but its small size was intentional.

When she piloted it to Sorna, she'd need to go inland via the rivers. Once she reached her destination, she'd moor the boat, and take a straight route to the compound. The river she'd selected was also one that cut out through the island's volcanic perimeter, meaning that the mouth was a tunnel. Too large, and she wouldn't fit, and even if she managed it, she might not make it far enough downriver.

It's not like she'd need it after that, anyway. It would be left to be overrun by the jungle. Just another relic to any investigators.

In a morbid way, Cathy wondered how she'd be remembered. If no one ever found out about her espionage, then she'd simply have disappeared one day with her boat. Perhaps lost at sea. Just a tragic casualty of circumstance. Maybe one day they'd find her boat on the island and assume she got lost, and was killed on the island.

On the other hand, if they discovered her betrayal after the fact, they'd almost certainly be hounding for her. Stealing millions of dollars worth of genetic data, not to mention trade secrets, would be more than frowned upon. If anyone else attempted it, they'd likely go to the black market. Maybe sell to BioSyn or one of those other corporations that had been hounding at InGen's heels since its beginning. She doubted anyone would suspect the island. Who would steal a fortune, and then hide in a jungle, not spending a single cent of it?

Squinting, she could start to see the coastline. The first things that appeared were the mountains, but soon the villas began to peek into view. The bright white of the larger ones stood out against the vivid green of the jungle slopes. As the port came into view, she could see the resort in full.

Despite Jurassic World's size, the actual footprint of the resort was rather small, but its skyline wasn't. Towering hotels loomed over the beachfront, forming a broad wall of bright windows that glared in the sunlight. The beachfront itself was a chaotic mix of colours, with beach parasols, towels, swimsuits, and skin tones all painting it.

Carefully, she swung her vessel wide of the beach, keeping an eye out for swimmers. Even if it was unlikely for them to be out that far from water, she wanted to avoid a lawsuit from some rich asshole. More immediately, she piloted herself around some of the small yachts in the harbor, preferring to avoid the attention of any party boats or playboys.

Coasting in towards the shore, she took a moment to look out at the scene. Numerous boats were out on the water, forming a virtual barricade. Even as early in the morning as it was, there were numerous colourful umbrellas embedded in the sand, lit by the morning light. Most were unoccupied, but a couple of early birds were taking advantage of the quiet morning.

She pulled her boat up towards one of the smaller, local docks. Paying for mooring was easy enough, and she had already made sure that anything valuable was locked. Stepping onto the dock, she could hear the sounds of the resort. Already the noise of televisions and families were filtering into the air

Putting her sunhat on, she did her best to drown it out, sticking to the shade of the buildings as she walked into the small town. She'd looked at a map last night, planning the route to the post office, but even with all her experience with maps, it was different to be there physically.

As she approached the heart of the town, she took some time to look around. The buildings were a mix of tiki and modern style, with palm fronds and thatched roofs juxtaposed against simplistic, white aesthetics. A few of the street stores were closed, but she could see through the shuttered windows. Many of them were souvenir shacks, selling all kinds of trademarked goods.

Reaching the crossroads she startled as she heard people shouting. Whipping around she narrowed her eyes as she realized it had come from a bar down the street. Turning the other way, she was thankful as the buildings changed to the more rigid civic buildings.

Her good mood continued as she saw that no one was using the post office. The man behind the counter perked up, adjusting his hat. "Let me know if you need help with anything."

"I'm here to pick up a package. I believe it should have come in overnight?" Cathy inquired, approaching the counter.

"Can I get your name?"

"Marissa Neumann," she lied easily.

"I'll go check. Please wait here."

Cathy nodded, waiting patiently. She took a quick glance around, but kept her head down. It would be for the best if there was less footage of her face, even if the chance of anyone seeing it was low.

"Here we are," the man said, lifting the package up. It was rather flat and compact. Convenient. The man slid a form towards her. "Just sign here."

Cathy quickly signed the fake signature. Most signatures were barely legible anyway; so as long as the key letters stood out, it was fine. She nodded her thanks as she took the package.

Navigating back to her boat was easy, but she still moved quickly. If the town was waking up, she didn't want to get stuck in it. She'd seen the promotional footage of the resort. A bustling, busy coastal town where you could enjoy the luxuries of Jurassic World only a few minutes away from the island.

It occurred to her that, with her family's wealth, she could easily afford to stay here, and ferry to and from the island each day. She had no intention of doing so, but the mere thought that she could stuck out to her. Outwardly, she hadn't been living like a rich kid. All her extra money was going to her "project."

Part of her wondered what would happen to all that money once she disappeared. She certainly wouldn't need it any more. At the very minimum, her parents had access to her account, so they'd get anything she didn't use back. A small, uneasy feeling gathered in the pit of her stomach. It was a line of thought she didn't like to think about often. She didn't have many friends who would remember her.

But her parents would notice when she disappeared, and she did care about them. Nothing was going to deter her, but that didn't mean she was completely heartless. They cared enough about her to support her through all this, after all. Sighing quietly, she tried to bury the thought, but it kept pushing at her mind. She didn't want to abandon them, but this was bigger than them.

She couldn't tell her parents she'd be alright, or give them any hint as to what she was going to do. If she did, then all her efforts to stay under the radar would be in vain. Prison for life, given the sheer number of accounts of fraud and espionage.

No, it was better not to say anything. A faked death would hurt, but at least the wound would fade over time. If she went to prison, they'd live the rest of their lives with the active reminder of how she'd betrayed them.

Their daughter would disappear mysteriously, never to be found again, rather than rot away in a jail cell.

Climbing into her boat, Cathy fought exhaustion, focusing her gaze on the distance. Single-mindedly, she tried to think about her plans for the day: smuggling the drone in, assembling it, testing it. But thoughts kept sneaking in, breaking her focus.

Eventually, she resigned herself to a quiet, silent trip.

"Hello, is this room 347?" Cathy asked, feigning her best impression of being lost and confused. From the doorway, she took stock of the three people that formed the study group.

Scott Anderson, Angela Springsteen, and Markus Taylor. She knew varying amounts about each of them, mostly from hearsay, like that Scott was British, and had been invited as part of an outreach program. Given what she had heard, it was likely part of the long-term plans for a Jurassic World near England.

Angela, who she'd gathered was the organizer, looked up, quickly composing a smile to cover her confusion. "Yes, it is. You are?"

"Cathy Bowman," she introduced, raising a hand in an awkward greeting. "I heard there was a sort of study group here. Thought I might look into it. Hope I'm not bothering you."

"Not at all," Markus assured her, hurrying to gesture towards a chair at their long table. Cathy smiled, taking the offered seat. "We were just getting started."

"Thank you," she said with a smile, setting her backpack beside her. An awkward moment passed as the others glanced down at their papers and things, clearly trying to figure out what to say.

It was Scott who took charge. "So, let's discuss this past week's work. We've been doing more shifts at the Gentle Giants, and I haven't heard anything official about a switch."

"Neither have I," Markus sighed, leaning on one elbow. "Makes me wonder if there's a problem or something."

"I think they'll switch us soon," Angela asserted. "We've been pulling the job long enough that they simply have to at some point. If they don't cycle soon, they're going to run out of time to properly train the new roles before the next tourist boom."

Cathy couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in admiration at her deduction. She suspected much the same, though her deadline was a little bit sooner than Angela's hinted. From everything she'd heard across all her shifts, the change in personnel was coming very soon.

"Any idea where they'll be moving us?" she floated, gaining the attention of everyone.

"Well," Scott started, glancing at his compatriots, waiting for their small nods. "We think the next place they'll be sending us is to shadow the field medic teams. Doing health checks and the like. Maybe following a few of the guided tours."

Cathy nodded slowly, choosing her words. So far they'd been receptive to her presence, but she had to offer something to keep her place here. "Makes sense to me. Seemed like what the staff were saying."

"You heard them discussing it?" Markus asked, clearly interested.

"Yeah. The staff talk about stuff all the time," she explained with a shrug. "Well, they don't discuss it in one piece, but you hear enough and you can put it all together."

Markus narrowed his eyes, and for a second, she wondered if he was doubting her, but then he raised a finger, tapping it in the air like he was just piecing something together. "Hey, you're the one that pulls all those shifts, aren't you?"

Despite the cold feeling that ran up her spine, Cathy smiled slightly. "Guilty as charged. What can I say? Hard work gets attention."

"That it does," Scott noted agreeably, meeting eyes with Angela. An understanding seemed to pass between them, and the atmosphere seemed to relax as the pair took their own seats. "Well, in that case, it seems likely that the change is going to happen very soon."

"So, if we're going to be shadowing the vets, there's probably going to be some memorization of medicine," Markus supplied. "There's a few common ones wildlife parks use in my experience, so knowing those is a definite. Basics like penicillin to dexamethasone."

"I'll work on the list too," Scott offered, taking out a pen to scrawl notes. "These are semi-avian reptiles, so there's a few drugs that will probably work better on them."

"I take it you're experienced in these matters?" Cathy guessed, eyeing the two men.

"I worked as a zookeeper, and Scott's experienced with birds and reptiles," Markus answered without looking up.

"Might be helpful to factor in biological aspects," Cathy offered. "Their hides are thicker, and their circulation is slower. Not to mention sheer body mass. Only the strongest drugs would work."

"Fair point," Scott noted, gesturing in her direction with a pen.

"What's your area of expertise?" Angela asked, leaning back slightly with a curious expression.

"Me? Just fascinated with dinosaurs. They're unlike any other animal. They share traits of both reptiles and birds without being strictly either one. It puts them in a very unusual place in the animal kingdom," Cathy explained truthfully. "It's fascinating to compare them to both extant animals, and each other."

"So where do you fall on the reptile-bird debate?"

Cathy pondered the question earnestly for a moment. "It's safe to say that there's a spectrum. Some of the dinosaurs exhibit more distinctly avian behaviours, particularly some of the small theropods. Others are more reptilian. But I think restricting them to a scale between the two is incorrect. Some behaviours were unique to the dinosaurs, or at least manifested uniquely. Avians spawned from dinosaurs after all."

"I'd agree to that," Angela said with a smile. "It's rather simplistic to view them as one or the other, no matter how much people try."

"I take it that you've got your own thoughts on the dinosaurs then," Cathy noted.

"Of course. I'd say that you hit the nail on the head," Angela agreed, taking a moment to compose her thoughts. "I think there's a lot that we can learn about the animals. Prior to the first dinosaur resurrection, most of our thoughts were based on conjecture, hybridizing components of animals. However, this fails to take into account a multitude of factors. Sure, birds came from dinosaurs, but we can't compare all dinosaurs to birds. At most, only a small section of theropods could really be judged using the bird metric."

The answer was surprising, but refreshing. It was a complex, nuanced look compared to the "If it ain't broke, don't fix it" approach many of the others had. Smiling to herself, Cathy leaned forward, eager to work with the group. She had a feeling she'd enjoy working with them. At least for the moment.

She got back to her own room late, but wasn't overly concerned about the time. She'd intentionally not taken the morning shift the next day, in case the group ran really late. Staying the full time would help her secure her place amongst them. She'd have to look at her scheduling in the future to keep up her pace, but she wasn't overly concerned. It was work she liked doing.

Rather, there were other things she had to focus on, like the next stage of her plans. Work would resume tomorrow after the weekend break, and she wanted to get back to work. If they were switching soon, then she'd have a limited time to take advantage of the easy window they'd provided her.

In order to obtain enough DNA to make her own dinosaurs, she'd need to get samples. Walking into the gene lab and just taking the vials wasn't a good idea, especially given how secure it had seemed when she visited, so that left getting samples from the dinosaurs directly. The best way to collect samples was to get blood samples, and the drone would help with that. Once she modified the dart gun, she could simply fly it into the park and get some samples from them.

But that would take a little bit of time. In the meanwhile, she had an easier option at hand; the Gentle Giants. Over the course of her shifts, she'd determined that the only security was visual. There were no metal sensors or tactile inspections of any kind. It would be easy to smuggle materials in and out on her person, provided she could shield them from view.

To that end, she'd rigged up a relatively simple but effective solution. Inside of one of her coats, she'd rigged up an internal patch near one of the thicker parts. She could slide a case of syringes inside, and have them be basically invisible to observers.

Picking up one such case, she popped it open, pulling out the needle. She smiled to herself as she looked at it before gently placing it back inside. The case was carefully designed to be temperature controlling, preventing the material from going bad before she could get it into her modified freezer. It wouldn't last for a whole day, but it would only have to last through one shift. Then she could head back to her room, deposit it, and get a new case.

"The things they sell online," she muttered to herself with a humorous shake of her head. Nowadays, you could just get these things. Nearly every science class in America had one after Jurassic World had popularized genetic science. Once again, Jurassic World had given its saboteurs the tools they needed to beat it.

Pushing the pack aside, she picked up her notes. If they had a week of shifts at the Gentle Giants left, then that meant there were three shifts a day for five days. She'd miss the very first shift of the week, but that still left fourteen shifts. With over a dozen animals subject to inspection a shift, that meant at least 168 samples. While the syringes themselves were too large to store in that kind of bulk, the small vials she'd bought for just this purpose could easily hold that much and fit in the fridge.

It would, however, make the fridge heavier over time. Not that it wasn't a bit bulky to start with, but a little moreso. It would be something to consider when it came time to flee. She'd have to carefully move the entire thing from her room to the boat . She'd need a dolly of some kind, so that was an item to find. Compared to some of the other problems, it was barely worth noting. She wouldn't even be able to bring it down to the docks, after all. They'd want to see what was in the fridge before she loaded it onto the boat. So the day she left, she'd walk down to the docks, get in her boat, drive it to some nearby coastline, and just wheel the fridge down there before disappearing.

She almost wished she could see the reaction of security when they realized what she had done. She'd have to pride herself on a job well done instead.

With a yawn, she set down her notes. The plans could come later. Now it was time for work.