by Chris Hechtl
Sandra winced. “Something like that. Nice Jurassic park touch there,” she grimaced. “I didn't think ….”
“You're right, you didn't.” Shirley interrupted. The sheriff waved her to be quiet, but Shirley snarled, hands clenched. “Consequences out the window; this is too exciting.” She glared at the other woman for a long fulminating moment. The air crackled with tension before Bobby looked at her in appeal. She finally shook herself, getting a handle on her temper. She had to think; they needed the woman's help. “Anyway, you were saying?”
“Ahem, okay, um, there are four different breeds. This is for the hunter investors.”
“Ah … breeds?”
“Breed runs. This one is the latest batch, number 4.3 to be exact. The flock is for hunting you see.”
“Yeah, we can see that,” the sheriff snarled.
“No, I mean, it's supposed to be a big game challenge. A few of the Preserve's major investors wanted to hunt dinosaurs,” she grimaced.
“Okay, a nice dino trophy. Let me guess; they wanted more of a challenge?” Richard demanded with a black scowl.
“Yes,” Sandra sighed. “See, they are smart. But they wanted something … cunning. Not a turkey shoot.”
“Oh.”
“So you what? Trained them?”
“No.” Sandra shook her head. “A chicken is only so smart.”
“Oh hell.”
“Well, we spliced in genetic patterns for a parrot’s brain.”
“Which one?” Doctor Rowland asked, enthused and clearly curious.
“Does it matter?” Shirley asked. She waved it away. “So what, they can talk?”
“No, Shirley. Parrots aren't just mimics. They are tool users as well. Smart ones. Problem solvers,” the ornithologist explained.
Shirley frowned. “Oh. So they think ….” The implications began to hit her. “Oh, that's just great ….” she drawled.
“In hindsight, not such a wise idea?” Bobby asked sighing tiredly. Sandra nodded.
“They are six months old but still growing. They should peak and enter sexual maturity in another six months,” Sandra stated.
“Oh great. So these are babies?” Bobby demanded, aghast at the concept.
“How many got loose?” Shirley asked interrupting.
“Six. Two males, four females. Excuse me, three females now. One is that,” she waved to the carcass. “They had RF tracking tags on their legs, but they got them off. I think they can sense the fields or just figured it out. I'm not certain, I don't have all the facts.”
“Oh joy,” Shirley said with a long exhale.
“And next year they will nest,” Bobby said catching on. Doctor Rowland nodded. So did Sandra.
“So you're telling me, we've got five giant birds running around my county… terror birds about to nest?” the sheriff parsed out.
“In essence. Yes,” Sandra replied as she nodded.
“Gee, I seem to recall something about public welfare and safety,” Shirley said sarcastically, looking at her superiors. The chief colored.
They heard a noise outside and then turned in time to see suits getting out of a couple of cars and then rushing to the front entrance of the sheriff's office. The chief smiled in relief, slumping into his chair. Shirley's eyes narrowed in contempt. The lawyers from the Preserve stormed into the sheriff's office, past the counter, and into the meeting. “This is over,” the lead attorney said. He waved a blue court order.
The sheriff laughed bitterly. “You mean you killed it? Them?” he asked. “Otherwise, no.”
They took one look at his set expression and changed tactics. “Sheriff …”
“Ah sorry about your loss,” one of the attorney's said, clearly uncomfortable. The others looked to him. He grimaced. “I know your son was a good man,” he said to the sheriff. “But still, we have to insist ….”
“Don't go there,” Shirley snarled. “My fiancé was a good cop,” she said, eyes flashing dangerously. Bobby held her arm.
“Ah …”
“That carcass is Preserve property. And Doctor, need I remind you about the nondisclosure agreement you signed?” the lead attorney said, turning to Sandra.
“The carcass is evidence of a crime. The doctor is a material witness to said crime. If she wishes to retain counsel, it is her right, but she isn't under arrest or investigation. Your actions are however,” Shirley said sweetly. “And oh, by the way, an NDA doesn't cover crimes. If a crime was committed, the NDA is not a shield. In fact it is a sign of criminal conspiracy, evidence tampering, hindering prosecution … need I go on?”
The lawyer blinked, suddenly taken aback. Shirley smiled, but the smile never reached her eyes. “Ever hear of obstruction of justice? Tampering with a crime scene? Bribing or suborning perjury? We can add those to the list and keep going from there.”
“Ah …,” the lawyers retreated in confused disorder for a moment. After a moment the lead counselor came back.
“We, ah … can't let this get out,” he said nervously, looking from Shirley to the others.
“It's way too late for that,” Bobby said with a shake of her head. She went over to a TV on the wall and turned it on, then changed the channel. A news report was covering the scene of the attack. “You're way past cover-up now boys.”
The lawyer grimaced. He immediately went into more damage control. Stonewalling and obstructing, the sheriff was now out. The death of the sheriff's son would make him mulish, too mulish to reason or threaten. And if they attempted to pull him off, then more unwanted attention would come their way. They wouldn't be able to spin it.
“I'm curious about how they'll spin this,” Molly muttered.
Shirley glared at her. “Looking for another bribe?”
“That's a low blow,” Molly said softly.
“Is it?” Bobby asked giving her a look.
Molly looked down. “Okay, I admit, I screwed up. I'll make it right.”
“You'd damn well better.”
“We both will,” Sandra said.
“We need to get in to the Preserve. We need to see what we're really up against,” Shirley stated flatly.
“Allow me then,” Sandra said with a nod to them.
<)>~^^~<(>/
They went to the Preserve. Sandra bulled her way in through the front gate and inner layers of security. The chief of security, Sadnir Bouchard, let her in after she browbeat her way past the first jumpy gate guards. Bouchard seemed genuinely contrite. The idea that people had died outside the walls of the Preserve confirmed his worst fears. Despite his orders from Wallace, he ordered his people to do everything to help. They would let the suits deal with damage control when the dust settled.
Sandra led them on a quick cook’s tour through her lab. She showed them the four breeds of raptors they had achieved. The humans were amazed by the chicken-sized beasts. They were also very much aware that the creatures were checking them out too. It was a little unnerving.
“See, many dinosaurs were this size. Or even smaller,” Sandra explained as Sadnir followed along in their wake. Doctor Rowland nodded.
“But feathers?” the sheriff asked.
“We've known for years dinosaurs have head feathers,” Bobby replied, rolling her eyes to the other women.
Sandra smiled politely as she put a pair of heavy work gloves on. Then she opened a cage before they could object. She took one of the bird-like creatures on her arm, coaxing it to step onto it then drawing it out of the cage so they could get a better look at it. It flapped its stubby wings and looked about them. It cocked its head a lot like a parrot or hawk. She stroked its chest with a gloved finger. She showed them the tail. “Getting the skin just right was a problem for a while, but we've got it licked. But they still have feathers there. Not so much on the legs though,” she said, stroking a thigh. The bird thing pecked at her finger then cocked its head at it.
“People think because of the movies and old memories that the dinosaurs were scaly reptiles. We've had to bal
ance the feathers with scales for the hunters,” Sadnir said with a shake of his head. “We can't keep everyone happy though.”
“What about the teeth?” Bobby asked, indicating the animal's small but obvious teeth.
“Oh, that was one of the easier things to do, that and the tail,” She showed them images of a chicken with teeth. Richard snorted. Hen’s teeth indeed he thought.
“Not even my work, another scientist figured it out,” Sandra said as she shrugged. “I forgot his name, I'm notorious about these things. Sorry,” she grimaced wryly, flaring the fingers on her free hand in way of dismissal. She cooed to the bird-like thing when it started to get agitated.
“So, you gave them long tails and teeth … why predators?”
“Well, most of the predatory dinosaurs were therapods. That is these, three-toed bipeds,” She hefted the bird thing on her arm. It cocked its head back and forth at her. She picked up a treat from a bowl and held it up to it. It looked at it then snapped it up fast, startling the others.
“Damn, that's fast!” Shirley observed, eyes wide.
“Yes, they can be,” Sadnir said. The doctor nodded and put the beast back in a cage. “As we were saying, birds descended from therapods somewhere on their family tree.”
“The plumage is stunning,” the ornithologist murmured, eyes locked on the creature in the cage. It cocked its head studying her right back.
“It is, isn't it?” Sandra smiled in delight. “There are six variants. We keyed in a random factor so there would be some variation. We used a lot of different species, like peacocks for the plumage. My all time favorite though is the phoenix.”
She showed them a bird creature in beautiful reds, golds, and purples. It fluttered its feathers then danced. When it did it looked like flames.
“Magnificent,” Doctor Rowland breathed in wonder.
“I've done another, the Aerox, it's a close variant of the ….”
“Excuse me, Doc, so these are real dinos?” Richard asked, waving a hand and getting to the point.
“Oh no,” Doctor Rowland said chuckling. “See, everything has the genes of their parents in them, just turned off.” she indicated Sandra. “She found the genes that had the traits they wanted and turned them back on.”
“Oh,” he blinked, a bit confused but vaguely aware of what they were saying.
“So two versions that are small and cute. I take it people wanted bigger though?”
“Yes,” Sandra sighed. “They saw that blasted Emausaurus idea and were intrigued. I was hoping the Aerox and her colors would have dissuaded them. But unfortunately …,” she sniffed.
“So you went bigger.”
“Yes. We first engineered the changes into the Emu but found the Cassowary worked just as well.”
“Oh lovely.”
“Yes well. We added the genes for longer arms and fingertip claws and well ….”
“You had yourselves a raptor or the beginnings of one.”
The scientist nodded. “Yes. Not a predator though.” She grimaced. “Well, the Cassowary is technically a predator but not one that hunted large prey.”
“And that's where these came in.”
“Yes well, we, that is the hunt club, wanted prey. This is the fifth version. We also have a larger variant about to go into production.”
“Excuse me? Did you say a larger variant?”
Yes, it's really exciting. I discovered how to manipulate the growth hormones of the bird’s brain in such a way to encourage growth.
“How big?”
Um … so you are saying … T-Rex size? Sandra said weakly looking a little sheepish.
“Oh hell.”
“I think that's canceled, Doc,” Richard growled.
Sandra nodded.
Sadnir looked concerned. “How bad is the damage?” he asked, suddenly getting his head out of their achievements to think of the real world consequences. To have a couple of sheriffs visiting them, it couldn't be good. Were there legal consequences for him? Could he be in serious trouble? All that started to race through his mind as he saw their expressions. “They haven't told us much. And well, we've been busy ….” He indicated their work.
Richard grimaced. “Bad. The body count at the …,” Richard looked at Shirley then looked away. “The death toll is high. Dozens of people are dead.”
“Too high,” Shirley said gruffly, eying the two scientists. In her book they were responsible. Just like the investors and other idiots who dreamed this nightmare up she thought.
Sadnir grimaced and looked away. “I'm sorry. I had no idea,” he said quietly.
“You said you made them smarter?”
Sandra squirmed, uncomfortable with the tone of the question. “Yes well, the first batches were easily frightened and didn't run or give the hunters that much satisfaction.” She grimaced. “They used trank darts but well ….”
“So you made them smarter. A parrot’s brain you said?”
Sadnir nodded. “Genes from a parrot actually. And ah … red tailed hawk.”
“You know of course you violated the laws on genetic tinkering of brains, right, Doc?” the ornithologist asked carefully. “The UN banned such things for a reason.”
Sandra's eyes flashed angrily. “The UN is a bunch of busy bodies. Old women. Fearful of their every shadow and standing in the way of scientific achievement. No, not really, I just combined to sets of materials. I didn't enhance them.”
Doctor Rowland crossed her arms. “But you did.”
“No. I didn't. Look can we …”
Shirley frowned and put a hand between them to cut the argument off. “Wait a sec, Doc. So you're saying these things have a brain the size of what a walnut?”
“No, no, when we enhanced their size their brains grew in proportion ….” Her eyes widened in sudden realization at that implication. “More size, more potential for neural connections ….” She licked her lips nervously as her face paled. “We never tested it; they didn't let us, just rush rush …. Oh my, I see what now …. Oh dear. Ooooh dear.” She shivered and turned to Sadnir. He looked shaken as well.
Shirley sighed. “Yeah.”
<)>~^^~<(>/
The flock was careful to stay in concealment from the tailless ones as much as possible. They hunted a few small animals, but it wasn't satisfying. It wasn't enough. They stayed on the move, but the instinct to hunt bigger prey became more powerful.
Unfortunately large animals avoided them. Even though they were ghosting through the forest, the quick footed deer evaded them. A black bear didn't, but the alpha recognized it as a credible threat to his diminished brood and wisely avoided an attack. Instead, he went wide around the clucking beast. They were wary as they crossed the dark stone paths and in every clearing. They only felt safe in the deep woods. The beta clucked at him. He could hear the beta's stomach growl. He nudged her to keep going.
<)>~^^~<(>/
Shirley took a shower, doing her best to get the blood and crud off. The pain was there, but it was distant, at least at first. As she washed herself tiredly, her errant mind flashed back to their last love making in the shower. Her hands stopped, and she fought her stinging eyes until she couldn't hold it back anymore.
Her tears mixed with the water as one hand covered her mouth to try to keep the sobs in. She sat/fell to the floor and cried in a fetal position until the water started to turn cold. When she started to shiver, she reached up and shut the water off and then got out of the shower. Her shoulders were hunched as she dried off, but one look at her badge made the self-pity and grief go away. Her thumb stroked the badge as she felt a peace, a sense of resolution come over her. She'd see it through, for Matt. For the kids who'd died, for their families. Come hell or high water, she'd kill the bastards then rip the cloak of secrecy their creators were trying to drop like wool over everyone's eyes. Never again.
She got dressed quickly.
<)>~^^~<(>/
The females did something unexpected; they started to coddl
e and nuzzle the males. The males realized after a while that they were ready to reproduce. The beta twigged on it first. His scenting the females alerted the alpha. The unusual scent made the alpha cock his head several times. But then instincts kicked in. Their courtships were brief; the males danced about and even play fought. The beta knew better than to challenge the alpha for dominance, so he backed off before he could be seriously hurt.
Victorious, the alpha crowed his victory and then turned to his harem. Each female laid down, and the male took his turn with her, straddling her from above. They clucked and flapped their arm wings as they had brief intercourse, then nuzzled each other for a short time. While the alpha was distracted with his current conquest, the beta nuzzled a female of his own off in the nearby bushes for his own tryst.
After they made the rounds several times, they slept. They would move on again once it was dark.
<)>~^^~<(>/
“Are you serious? A white wash?” she snarled. “A cover-up,” she hissed. She paced, drying her shoulder length hair off as she flopped into the nearest chair.
Bobby eyed her, saw her expression, the dark circles under her eyes. “Shirley, when was the last time you slept?” Bobby asked. Shirley shook her head. “Or ate?” Bobby asked gently. Shirley sat down wearily.
“You'd better.” Bobby went to the vending machine and came back with a protein bar. Grimacing, Shirley opened it and ate it quickly. It tasted horrible, but a bottle of water Bobby passed her helped to wash it down.
Richard came in, and leaned against the table, arms crossed. “What the hell are we going to do?” he asked.
“Get people in town under cover. The same for the farms,” Bobby suggested immediately.
“The livestock?”
“Hope they are insured,” Bobby said. “It's the people that matter most,” she said. The sheriff grunted.
“We wait until the military can get in here to kill it. Them,” she said shaking her head. She sat down and bumped the table. Shirley's purse spilled.