Jurassic Park (32 page)

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Authors: Michael Crichton

Tags: #Dinosaurs & Prehistoric Creatures, #Fiction - Science Fiction, #Animals, #Clones and cloning, #TV Tie-Ins, #Dinosaurs, #Movie, #Juvenile Fiction, #Movie-TV Tie-In - General, #Juvenile Nonfiction, #General, #Science Fiction, #Science Fiction - General, #Adventure, #Technological, #Thrillers, #Media Tie-In - General, #Amusement parks, #Fiction, #Media Tie-In, #cloning

BOOK: Jurassic Park
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    "What is it?" Gennaro said,

    "It's Malcolm," Muldoon said.

 

Ian Malcolm lay on his back, his skin gray-white, mouth slackly open. His breath came in wheezing gasps. Muldoon handed the flashlight to Gennaro, and then bent to examine the body. "I can't find the injury," he said. "Head okay, chest, arms . . ."

    Then Gennaro shone the light on the legs. "He put a tourniquet on." Malcolm's belt was twisted tight over the right thigh. Gennaro moved the light down the leg. The right ankle was bent outward at an awkward angle from the leg, the trousers flattened, soaked in blood. Muldoon touched the ankle gently, and Malcolm groaned.

    Muldoon stepped back and tried to decide what to do next. Malcolm might have other injuries. His back might be broken. It might kill him to move him. But if they left him here, he would die of shock. It was only because he had had the presence of mind to put a tourniquet on that he hadn't already bled to death. And probably he was doomed. They might as well move him.

    Gennaro helped Muldoon pick the man up, hoisting him awkwardly over their shoulders. Malcolm moaned, and breathed in ragged gasps. "Lex," he said. "Lex . . . went . . . Lex . . ."

    "Who's Lex?" Muldoon said.

    "The little girl," Gennaro said. They carried Malcolm back to the Jeep, and wrested him into the back seat. Gennaro tightened the tourniquet around his leg. Malcolm groaned again. Muldoon slid the trouser cuff up and saw the pulpy flesh beneath, the dull white splinters of protruding bone.

    "We've got to get him back," Muldoon said.

    "You going to leave here without the kids?" Gennaro said.

    "If they went into the park, it's twenty square miles," Muldoon said, shaking his head. "The only way we can find anything out there is with the motion sensors. If the kids are alive and moving around, the motion sensors will pick them up, and we can go right to them and bring them back. But if we don't take Dr. Malcolm back right now, he'll die."

    "Then we have to go back," Gennaro said.

    "Yes, I think so."

    They climbed into the car. Gennaro said, "Are you going to tell Hammond the kids are missing?"

    "No," Muldoon said. "You are."

 

Control

 

Donald Gennaro stared at Hammond, sitting in the deserted cafeteria. The man was spooning ice cream, calmly eating it. "So Muldoon believes the children are somewhere in the park?"

    "He thinks so, yes."

    "Then I'm sure we'll find them."

    "I hope so," Gennaro said. He watched the old man deliberately eating, and he felt a chill.

    "Oh, I am sure we'll find them. After all, I keep telling everyone, this park is made for kids."

    Gennaro said, "Just so you understand that they're missing, sir."

    "Missing?" he snapped. "Of course I know they're missing. I'm not senile." He sighed, and changed tone again. "Look, Donald," Hammond said. "Let's not get carried away. We've had a little breakdown from the storm or whatever, and as a result we've suffered a regrettable, unfortunate accident. And that's all that's happened. We're dealing with it. Arnold will get the computers cleaned up. Muldoon will pick up the kids, and I have no doubt he'll be back with them by the time we finish this ice cream. So let's just wait and see what develops, shall we?"

    "Whatever you say, sir," Gennaro said.

 

"Why?" Henry Wu said, looking at the console screen.

    "Because I think Nedry did something to the code," Arnold said. "That's why I'm checking it."

    "All right," Wu said. "But have you tried your options?"

    "Like what?" Arnold said.

    "I don't know. Aren't the safety systems still running?" Wu said. "Keychecks? All that?"

    "Jesus," Arnold said, snapping his fingers. "They must be. Safety systems can't be turned off except at the main panel."

    "Well," Wu said, "if Keycheeks is active, you can trace what he did."  

    "I sure as hell can," Arnold said. He started to press buttons. Why hadn't he thought of it before? It was so obvious. The computer system at Jurassic Park had several tiers of safety systems built into it. One of them was a keycheck program, which monitored all the keystrokes entered by operators with access to the system. It was originally installed as a debugging device, but it was retained for its security value.

    In a moment, all the keystrokes that Nedry had entered into the computer earlier in the day were listed in a window on the screen:

   

 

    13,42,121,32,88,77,19,13,122,13,44,52,77,90,13,99,13,100,13,109,55,103

    144,13,99,87,60,13,44,12,09,13,43,63,13,46,57,89,103,122,13,44,52,88,9

    31,13,21,13,57,98,100,102,103,13,112,13,146,13,13,13,77,67,88,23,13,13

    system

    nedry

    goto command level

    nedry

    040/ # xy/67&

    mr goodbytes

    security

    keycheck off

    safety off

    sl off

    security

    whte_rbt.obj

 

 

    "That's it?" Arnold said. "He was screwing around here for hours, it seemed like."

    "Probably just killing time," Wu said. "Until he finally decided to get down to it."

    The initial list of numbers represented the ASCI keyboard codes for the keys Nedry had pushed at his console. Those numbers meant he was still within the standard user interface, like any ordinary user of the computer. So initially Nedry was just looking around, which you wouldn't have expected of the programmer who had designed the system.

    "Maybe he was trying to see if there were changes, before he went in," Wu said.

    "Maybe," Arnold said. Arnold was now looking at the list of commands, which allowed him to follow Nedry's progression through the system, line by line. "At least we can see what he did."

    system was Nedry's request to leave the ordinary user interface and access the code itself. The computer asked for his name, and he replied: nedry.

    That name was authorized to access the code, so the computer allowed him into the system. Nedry asked to goto command level, the computer's highest level of control. The command level required extra security, and asked Nedry for his name, access number 7 and password.

    nedry

    040/# xy/67&

    mr goodbytes

    Those entries got Nedry into the command level. From there he wanted security. And since he was authorized, the computer allowed him to go there. Once at the security level, Nedry tried three variations:

    keycheck off

    safety off

    sl off

    "He's trying to turn off the safety systems," Wu said. "He doesn't want anybody to see what he's about to do."

    "Exactly," Arnold said. "And apparently he doesn't know it's no longer possible to turn the systems off except by manually flipping switches on the main board."

    After three failed commands, the computer automatically began to worry about Nedry. But since he had gotten in with proper authorization, the computer would assume that Nedry was lost, trying to do something he couldn't accomplish from where he was. So the computer asked him again where he wanted to be, and Nedry said:

    security. And he was allowed to remain there.

    "Finally," Wu said, "here's the kicker." He pointed to the last of the commands Nedry had entered.

    Whte_rbt.obj

    "What the hell is that?" Arnold said. "White rabbit? Is that supposed to be his private joke?"

    "It's marked as an object," Wu said. In computer terminology, an "object" was a block of code that could be moved around and used, the way you might move a chair in a room. An object might be a set of commands to draw a picture, or to refresh the screen, or to perform a certain calculation.

    "Let's see where it is in the code," Arnold said. "Maybe we can figure out what it does." He went to the program utilities and typed:

   

    FIND WHTE-RBT.OBJ

    The computer flashed back:

    OBJECT NOT FOUND IN LIBRARIES

 

    "It doesn't exist," Arnold said.

    "Then search the code listing," Wu said.

    Arnold typed:

 

    FIND/LISTINGS: WHTE-RBT.OBJ

 

    The screen scrolled rapidly, the lines of code blurring as they swept past. It continued this way for almost a minute, and then abruptly stopped.

    "There it is," Wu said. "It's not an object, it's a command." The screen showed an arrow pointing to a single line of code:

 

 

curv = GetHandl {ssm.dt} tempRgn {itm.dd2}.

curh = GetHandl {ssd.itli} tempRgn2 {itm.dd4}.

on DrawMeter(!gN) set shp-val.obi to lim(Val{d})-Xval.

if ValidMeter(mH) (**mH).MeterVis return.

      if Meterband](vGT) ((DrawBack(tY)) return.

      limitDat.4 = maxbits (%33) to {limit 04} set on.

limitDat.5 = setzero, setfive, 0 {limit .2-var(szb)}.

on whte-rbt.obi call link.sst {security, perimeter} set to off.

Vertrange={maxrange+setlim} tempVgn(fdn-&bb+$404).

Horrange={maxRange-setlim/2} tempHgn(fdn-&dd+$105).

void DrawMeter send-screen.obi print.

   

 

    "Son of a bitch," Arnold said.

    Wu shook his head. "It isn't a bug in the code at all."

    "No," Arnold said. "It's a trap door. The fat bastard put in what looked like an object call, but it's actually a command that links the security and perimeter systems and then turns them off. Gives him complete access to every place in the park."

    "Then we must be able to turn them back on," Wu said.

    "Yeah, we must." Arnold frowned at the screen. "All we have to do is figure out the command. I'll run an execution trace on the link," he said. "We'll see where that gets us."

    Wu got up from his chair. "Meanwhile," he said, "meanwhile, that somebody went into the freezer about an hour ago. I think I better go count my embryos."

 

Ellie was in her room, about to change out of her wet clothes, when there was a knock on the door.

    "Alan?" she said, but when she opened the door she saw Muldoon standing there, with a plastic-wrapped package under his arm. Muldoon was also soaking wet, and there were streaks of dirt on his clothes.

    "I'm sorry, but we need your help," Muldoon said briskly. "The Land Cruisers were attacked an hour ago. We brought Malcolm back, but he's in shock. He's got a very bad injury to his leg. He's still unconscious, but I put him in the bed in his room. Harding is on his way over."

    "Harding?" she said. "What about the others?"

    "We haven't found the others yet, Dr. Sattler," Muldoon said. He was speaking slowly now.

    "Oh, my God."

    "But we think that Dr. Grant and the children are still alive. We think they went into the park, Dr. Sattler."

    "Went into the park?"

    "We think so. Meanwhile, Malcolm needshelp. I've called Harding."

    'Shouldn't you call the doctor?"

    "There's no doctor on the island. Harding's the best we have."

    "But surely you can call for a doctor-" she said.

    "No." Muldoon shook his head. "Phone lines are down. We can't call out." He shifted the package in his arm.

    "What's that?" she said.

    "Nothing. Just go to Malcolm's room, and help Harding, if you will."

    And Muldoon was gone.

    She sat on her bed, shocked. Ellie Sattler was not a woman disposed to unnecessary panic, and she had known Grant to get out of dangerous situations before. Once he'd been lost in the badlands for four days when a cliff gave way beneath him and his truck fell a hundred feet into a ravine. Grant's right leg was broken. He had no water. But he walked back on a broken leg.

    On the other hand, the kids . . .

    She shook her head, pushing the thought away. The kids were probably with Grant. And if Grant was out in the park, well . . . what better person to get them safely through Jurassic Park than a dinosaur expert?

 

In the Park

 

"I'm tired," Lex said. "Carry me, Dr. Grant." "You're too big to carry," Tim said.

    "But I'm tired," she said.

    "Okay, Lex," Grant said, picking her up. "Oof, you're heavy."

    It was almost 9:00 p.m. The full moon was blurred by drifting mist, and their blunted shadows led them across an open field, toward dark woods beyond. Grant was lost in thought, trying to decide where he was. Since they had originally crossed over the fence that the tyrannosaur had battered down, Grant was reasonably sure they were now somewhere in the tyrannosaur paddock. Which was a place he did not want to be. In his mind, he kept seeing the computer tracing of the tyrannosaur's home range, the tight squiggle of lines that traced his movements within a small area. He and the kids were in that area now.

    But Grant also remembered that the tyrannosaurs were isolated from all the other animals, which meant they would know they had left the paddock when they crossed a barrier-a fence, or a moat, or both.

    He had seen no barriers, so far.

    The girl put her head on his shoulder, and twirled her hair in her fingers. Soon she was snoring. Tim trudged alongside Grant.

    "How you holding up, Tim?"

    "Okay," he said. "But I think we might be in the tyrannosaur area."

    "I'm pretty sure we are. I hope we get out soon."

    "You going to go into the woods?" Tim said. As they came closer, the woods seemed dark and forbidding.

    "Yes," Grant said. "I think we can navigate by the numbers on the motion sensors."

    The motion sensors were green boxes set about four feet off the ground. Some were freestanding; most were attached to trees. None of them were working, because apparently the power was still off. Each sensor box had a glass lens mounted in the center, and a painted code number beneath that. Up ahead, in the mist-streaked moonlight, Grant could see a box marked T/S/04.

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