It was busily eating the food when it screeched in alarm and started to slide down the outer wall of dried mud. Immediately, the mother tyrannosaur dropped her head and intercepted the baby's fall, then gently nudged the animal back inside the nest. Thorne was impressed by the delicacy of her movements, the attentive way she cared for her young. The father, meanwhile, continued to tear small pieces of meat. Both animals kept up a continuous purring growl, as if to reassure the infants.
As Thorne watched, he shifted his position. His foot stepped on a branch: there was a sharp crack.
Immediately, both adults jerked their heads up.
Thorne froze; he held his breath.
The tyrannosaurs scanned the area around the nest, looking intently in every direction. Their bodies were tense, their heads alert. Their eyes flicked back and forth, accompanied by little head jerks. After a moment, they seemed to relax again. They bobbed their heads up and down, and rubbed their snouts against each other. It seemed to be some kind of ritual movement, almost a dance. Only then did they resume feeding the infants.
When they had calmed down, Thorne slipped away, moving quietly back to the motorcycle. Arby whispered over the headset, "Dr. Thorne. I can't see you."
Thorne didn't answer. He tapped the microphone with his finger, to signal that he had heard..
Arby whispered, "I think I know where Dr. Levine is. He's off to your left."
Thorne tapped the mike again, and turned.
To his left, among ferns, he saw a rusted bicycle. It said "Prop. InGen Corp." It was leaning against a tree.
Not bad, Arby thought, sitting in the trailer and watching the remote videos as he clicked on them. He now had the monitor divided into quarters; it was a good compromise between lots of views, and images large enough to see.
One of the views looked down from above on the two tyrannosaurs in the secluded clearing. It was midmorning; the sun shone brightly on the muddy, trampled grass of the clearing. In the center he saw a round steep-walled nest of mud. Inside the nest were four mottled white eggs, about the size of footballs. There were also some broken egg fragments, and two baby tyrannosaurs, looking exactly like featherless, squeaking birds, They sat in the nest with their heads turned up like baby birds, mouths gaping wide, waiting to be fed.
Kelly watched the screen and said, "Look how cute they are." And then she added, "We should be out there."
Arby didn't answer her. He was not at all sure he wanted to be any closer. The adults were being very cool about it, but Arby found the idea of these dinosaurs very unnerving in some deep way that he couldn't analyze. Arby had always found it reassuring to organize, to create order in his life - even arranging the images neatly on the computer monitor was calmlng to him. But this island was a place where everything was unknown and unexpected. Where you didn't know what would happen. He found that troubling.
On the other hand, Kelly was excited. She kept making comments about the tyrannosaurs, how big they were, the size of their teeth. She seemed entirely enthusiastic, without any fear at all.
Arby felt annoyed with her.
"Anyway," she said, "what makes you think you know where Dr. Levine is?"
Arbv pointed to the image of the nest, on the monitor. "Watch."
"I see it."
"No. Watch, Kel."
As they stared at the screen, the image moved slightly. It panned to the left, then centered again. "See that?" Arby said.
"So what? Maybe the wind is blowing the carMera or something."
Arby shook his head. "No, Kel. He's up in the tree. Levine's moving the camera."
"Oh." A pause. She watched again. "You might be right."
Arby grinned. That was about all he could expect to get from Kelly. "Yeah, I think so."
"But what's Dr. Levine doing in the tree?"
"Maybe he's adjusting the camera."
They listened to Thorne's breathing over the radio.
Kelly stared at the four video images, each showing a different view of the island. She sighed. "I can't wait to get out there," she said.
"Yeah, me too," Arby said. But he didn't mean it. He glanced out the window of the trailer and saw the Explorer coming back, with Eddie and Malcolm. Secretly, he was glad to see them return.
Thorne stood at the base of the tree, looking up. He couldn't see Levine through the leaves, but he knew he must be somewhere up above, because he was making what seemed to Thorne like a lot of noise. Thorne glanced nervously back at the clearing, screened by intervening foliage. He could still hear the purring; it remained steady, uninterrupted.
Thorne waited. What the hell was Levine doing up in a tree, anyway? He heard rustling in the branches above, and then silence. A grunt. Then more rustling.
And then Levine said aloud, "Oh, shit!" Then a loud crashing sound, the crack of branches, and a howl of pain. And then Levine crashed down on the ground in front of Thorne, landing hard on his back. He rolled over, clutching his shoulder.
"Damn!" he said.
Levine wore muddy khakis that were torn in several places. Behind a three-day growth of beard, his face was haggard and spattered with mud. He looked up as Thorne moved toward him, and grinned.
"You're the last person I expected to see, Doc," Levine said. "But your timing is flawless."
Thorne extended his hand, and Levine started to reach for it, when, from the clearing behind them, the tyrannosaurs gave a deafening roar.
"Oh, not" Kelly said. On the monitor, the tyrannosaurs were agitated, moving swiftly in circles, raising their heads and bellowing.
"Dr. Thorne! What's happening?" Arby said.
They heard Levine's voice, tinny and scratchy on the radio, but they couldn't make out the words. Eddie and Malcolm came into the trailer. Malcolm took one look at the monitor and said, "Tell them to get out of there right now!"
On the monitor, the two tyrannosaurs had turned their backs to each other, so they were facing outward in a posture of defense. The babies were protected in the center. The adults swung their heavy tails back and forth over the nest, above the babies' heads. But the tension was palpable.
And then one of the adults bellowed, and charged out of the clearing. "Dr. Thorne! Dr. Levine! Get out of there!"
Thorne swung his leg over the bike and gripped the rubber handles. Levine jumped on behind, clutched him around the waist. Thorne heard a chilling roar, and looked back to see one of the tyrannosaurs crash through the foliage and charge them. The animal was running at full speed-head low, jaws open, in an unmistakable posture of attack…
Thorne twisted the throttle. The electric motor whirred, the back wheel spun in the mud, not moving.
"Go!" Levine shouted. "Go!"
The tyrannosaur rushed toward them, roaring. Thorne could feel the ground shake. The roar was so loud it hurt his ears. The tyrannosaur was nearly on them, the big head lunging forward, jaws wide open Thorne kicked back with his heels, pushing the bike forward. Suddenly the rear wheel caught, throwing up a plume of mud, and the bike roared up the muddy track. He accelerated fast. The motorcycle fished and swerved treacherously on the trail.
Behind him Levine was shouting something, but Thorne didn't listen. His heart was pounding. The bike jumped across a rut in the path and they almost lost their balance, then regained it, accelerating again. Thorne did not dare look back. He could smell the odor of rotten flesh, could hear the rasping breath of the giant animal in pursuit…
"Doc! Take it easy!" Levine shouted.