Dinosaur Thunder (6 page)

Staring at his favorite stained ceiling tile, Nick thought back to the phone call that changed the course of his life. The local PBS station contacted the University of Chicago, looking for an expert to advise on a production called
The New Physics.
The department administrative assistant transferred the call to Nick, and Nick volunteered. Unfortunately, Nick proved good at explaining abstract concepts in everyday terms—so good that he became the narrator. The series won awards, and that led to more consulting, and more narration, on a wide variety of productions, including
Everyday Physics, Living Seas, The Evolution of Evolution,
and
Mind Science.
Ironically, his last production was
Time Enough for Time.

Notoriety led to opportunities, and when former President McIntyre’s science adviser succumbed to a sex scandal, Nick was offered the position. Back then, the role of the “science adviser” was to take complex concepts and put them in terms the president could understand. Nick was perfect for the position. Back then, science advisers did not sit on the cabinet, travel to the moon, jump forward and backwards in time, and did not get chased by dinosaurs. “Science adviser” stopped being an adviser when “past” and “present” lost their meaning.

Nick had planned on serving in the McIntyre administration for a single term, and then starting his own production company, using his connections in government and the entertainment industry. But when the present collided with the Cretaceous age and the world was time-quilted, the role of science adviser became a cabinet position, and Nick found himself in a maelstrom of the improbable.

Now that Nick was the director of the Office of Security Science, the president, the American public, and most of the world looked to him to manage an unstable time matrix—as if it could be managed. Sitting up, Nick turned to his monitor, where digital video of the moon dinosaur ran in a continuous loop. The video was classified, kept from the public to keep them content. Knowing the kinds of things he hid from the public made Nick wonder what other secrets were hidden from him by the CIA, NSA, and the DOD.

One of the many secrets hidden from Nick was responsible for putting a living dinosaur on the moon. Using DOD funding, scientists built a high-tech pyramid in Alaska to collect orgonic energy. Orgonic energy was the secret power of the pyramids used for the preservation of pharaohs. The pyramid shape functioned to collect orgonic energy, with the focal point in the pyramid being the king’s chamber. Egyptians labored for centuries to perfect pyramid construction, and ninety of their orgonic collectors still stood. But as the case with Leonardo’s flying machine, the Egyptians were ahead of their time. The limestone pyramids could collect the energy, but the stone was a poor storage medium. The high-tech Alaska pyramid took the Egyptian orgonic collector to a level Egyptian engineers dreamed of but could never achieve using limestone. Acting as a charged capacitor, the Alaska pyramid began shifting the time waves still rippling across the planet, creating a convergence and opening passages in time–space that led Nick and his teams from the pyramid on the moon deep into the Mayan past pursuing ecoterrorists bent on destroying civilization by triggering another, larger Time Quilt. A nuclear explosion in the time–space tunnels ended the plan, sealing the tunnels—Nick thought.

Next to the monitor was a lead box with a leaded glass top. Inside was a sample of the material retrieved from the moon. Records of the Alaska pyramid project were lost when the site was destroyed, but Nick had been in the pyramid and knew this was that same material. What he did not know was what gave it the power to ignore the arrow of time. Looking back to the looping video, Nick was sure the struggling dinosaur was not trapped in the black material, but in the time matrix. The frenetic activity was impossible, even on the moon’s one-sixth gravity. Tyrannosaurs were quick, but no dinosaur could move that fast, even when panicked.

Watching the tyrannosaur, Nick quickly concluded the dinosaur was alive in a different time flow than the one Nick was in, and the tyrannosaur’s time flow was faster than the one Nick occupied. Nick was intrigued with the concept of variable time flow, speculating about a connection to explain variable speed of light (VSL). Interestingly, condensed matter influenced the speed of light, and transient dense matter produced by nuclear explosions created the time waves that swept the dinosaurs into the present. It was not too big a leap to connect VSL and variable time. Nick could even visualize a means of traveling into the future and past by jumping from one time flow to another. Unfortunately, all that had to wait until Nick could assess the threat the moon dinosaur represented.

A violent shaking broke Nick’s reverie, his arms clutching the armrests tightly even before Nick could tell them to. With his feet still on the desk, Nick bounced on his bottom. Then the trembling stopped. Only after the earthquake was over did Nick remember that he should have left the building or found an archway to stand in.

Nick’s phone rang. It was Kaylee Kemper, his administrative assistant.

“Dr. Paulson, Dr. Gah from the Ocala Dinosaur Preserve called about a man trying to claim the reward for an untagged dinosaur,” Kaylee said.

“Did you feel the earthquake?” Nick asked.

“Yes, Dr. Paulson,” Kaylee said. “I think it was stronger than the last one.”

“Last one?” Nick asked.

“It happened when you were in Paris,” Kaylee said. “There was one around Christmas too, I think. I barely felt that one.”

Nick thought that was an unusual number of earthquakes for the region, but realized he did not know much about the geology of Washington, D.C. Were three earthquakes in six months unusual?

“What do you want to do about the man claiming the untagged dinosaur reward?” Kaylee asked.

The reward for untagged dinosaurs was a gimmick used by the Office of Security Science, and the Dinosaur Rangers, to reassure the public about dinosaur safety. The few tagless dinosaurs reported under the program turned out either to be frauds with their subcutaneous tags cut out, or unregistered dinosaurs that wandered away from a private reserve. There was no reward for pet dinosaurs or illegally bred dinosaurs.

“Another fraud?” Nick asked.

“No, that’s why Dr. Gah called. He examined the carcasses, and they were untagged. He said there were no signs the tags were cut out.”

“Carcasses?” Nick probed.

“The claimant had two of them,” Kaylee confirmed. “Both velociraptors.”

Nick sucked air through his teeth, thinking. Unconsciously, he jotted notes on yellow sticky pads. “They have to be fakes.”

“You want me to tell them to deny the claim?”

Nick looked at the video loop of the twisting, turning tyrannosaur. Could there be a connection?

“Where’s John Roberts?” Nick asked.

“Mr. Roberts is in Berlin for the International Conference on Dinosaur Management.”

Nick hesitated, knowing he wanted to handle the call, but also knowing there would be consequences. Most troubling was the fact he would have to explain this to Elizabeth.

Nick and Elizabeth had been married for eight years now, but had known each other for a decade before that. Both career-oriented, they were perfect for each other in that they expected to come second to each other’s job. Keeping her maiden name, Elizabeth Hawthorne was currently a Washington, D.C., lobbyist, and former chief of staff for President McIntyre. When the present collided with the Cretaceous past, President McIntyre ordered the use of nuclear weapons to try to reverse the catastrophe and bring back the world’s missing cities and citizens, and send the dinosaurs back to the past. Instead, the massed detonations froze the dinosaurs in the present. That decision ensured that President McIntyre was a one-term President and ended Elizabeth’s political career.

Nick was science adviser then, and a relationship with Elizabeth began that developed into love, then marriage, and now into the deep and abiding affection they had for each other. While they gave each other a lot of space to pursue their careers, Elizabeth had elicited a promise from Nick to let younger people do the fieldwork. Keeping that promise had been relatively easy, until now.

“Tell Dr. Gah I’m on my way and ask him to keep the man who brought the velociraptors there. I want to talk to him. And Kaylee, make arrangements to get me there.”

“Commercial?” Kaylee asked. “Or are you in a hurry?”

“Get the jet,” Nick said.

“Do you want me to call Ms. Hawthorne and tell her what you are doing?” Kaylee asked. “Or are you going to do it?”

“I’ll be back before she knows I’m gone,” Nick said.

“You better hope so,” Kaylee said.

6

Hatching

Velociraptors were all claws and teeth. With thirty curved teeth, three-fingered clawed hands, and four-toed clawed feet, the meat-eating velociraptors evolved to be efficient killers.

—John Roberts, OSS, Director of Field Operations

Present time
Near Hillsdale, Florida

Carefully, Jeanette moved straw aside, revealing a gently rocking raptor egg. Pushing her nose into the straw, Sally sniffed suspiciously and then snorted. Picking up the egg, Jeanette turned it over. The egg stopped rocking. Examining it carefully, she found the surface unbroken.

“Maybe they move like this all the time?” Jeanette said, holding the egg close to Sally.

Sally pushed her nose against the egg in Jeanette’s hand. The egg began rocking again. Surprised, Jeanette almost dropped it. Putting it down gently, Jeanette dug in the straw, checking the other eggs. One other was rocking. Then, from outside, came the shriek and whine of police sirens. Jeanette shoved the egg deep into the straw, hastily throwing more over the top.

“Stop moving,” Jeanette whispered, gently patting the straw.

Sally was already at the door, frozen, listening to the sirens—they were close, but not too close. Stepping outside, Jeanette saw police lights at the farm down the road. Police rushed the front door, using a ram to bust inside. Like rats scurrying from a burning building, young men jumped out windows or bolted out the back door. Shocked by the number of men in the house, Jeanette watched in fascination as the cops gave chase. One fleeing man sprinted toward Dinosaur Wrangler property, two cops on his heel.

“Sally,” Jeanette called.

Sally came close, putting her nose in Jeanette’s cupped hand. Seeing the onrushing man, Sally stiffened, then huffed and barked.

“Good dog,” Jeanette said.

The runner made it to the barbed-wire fence but the cops pulled him down before he could clear it. Relieved, Jeanette relaxed, scratching Sally’s head. Jerked to his feet, the man made eye contact, glaring at Jeanette. Jeanette recognized him as one of the regulars at the farm next door.

“I’ll get you for this, bitch!” he shouted.

“I didn’t do anything!” Jeanette shouted back.

Now handcuffed, the man started another curse, but a cop slapped the man on the back of his head.

“Shut the hell up!” the cop said.

“It wasn’t me!” Jeanette shouted again.

An hour later, another cop came to the door wearing a T-shirt with
POLICE
written in bright yellow. Jeanette recognized him as the county inspector who cited the neighbors for code violations. Jeanette talked to him through the closed door, Sally’s nose pressed against the screen, sniffing the deputy, tail wagging.

“You’re a cop?” Jeanette asked.

“Yeah,” he said, holding open a leather badge holder, showing a gold star with a color outline of Florida in the middle. The words
DEPUTY SHERIFF
curved around the top of the central image, and
LAKE COUNTY FLORIDA
was written underneath. “I’m Deputy Wilson. I thought I better come over and explain.”

Like most men who talked to Jeanette, he let his eyes wander whenever she looked aside, so she always kept eye contact. The long eye contact either intimidated men or was misinterpreted as interest. The police officer was taller than Jeanette, but not by much—maybe five foot ten. With black hair cut short in military style, delicate features, and small chin, he was a little too pretty for a man, especially a tough guy like a cop. He was close-shaved, showing no stubble.

“We were pretty sure we knew what was going on in the house but couldn’t pry a warrant out of a judge. Then you called the county, and we kind of took advantage of it so we could get a closer look. I posed as the county inspector, but they wouldn’t let me inside. It didn’t matter. You could smell what was what from the outside.”

“What was what?” Jeanette repeated, gently making fun of Deputy Wilson.

“They had a meth lab in the basement. Don’t worry, a hazmat team is coming to clean it up.

“Glad I could help.”

“So, are you alone?”

Jeanette glared at him.

“I’m just asking because a couple of those guys were making threats,” Deputy Wilson added quickly. “They think you tipped us about the lab.”

“Oh, great!”

“I told them you had nothing to do with it,” Wilson said. “So I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. They’re not getting out anytime soon anyway. There’s at least two parole violations among those assholes, and one is a two-time loser. He’ll be gone for life. Besides, with the lab confiscated, there’s nothing to come back for.”

“Except me,” Jeanette said, surprised how scared she was.

“So, if you’re alone out here, I could stop by once in a while. Just to make sure you’re okay.”

“This is my boyfriend’s place,” Jeanette said.

“Okay. That’s good,” Deputy Wilson said, not hiding his disappointment. “I’m sure nothing will happen but … I thought … Well, it’s good you’re not alone.”

“Thanks for caring,” Jeanette said.

“Here’s my number, just in case,” Deputy Wilson said.

His number was on the back of a napkin from Wendy’s. Jeanette took the napkin, wishing she had a dollar for every phone number men had given her. Deputy Wilson walked to the road and then toward the police circus next door. He looked back twice. Jeanette waited until he was with the cops, and then she went to the steel building.