‘However, these board members fear the immediacy of success that our colonization venture, started here, may experience. They fear that if our sales and marketing can return with stories and demonstrate early successes, their companies will lose paying colonists and they stand a chance of losing their investment. After all we are talking days to weeks of travel from our timeframe while the nearest habitable stars back home are long months or even years away.’
‘Now wait! Don’t try to talk to me about the ethics of a sitting board member of the corporation starting a competitive venture. We’ll have to take care of this later. Suffice it to say that these two directors are powerful enough that they were able to pass, by a slim margin, a compromise vote. The compromise is that we will be host to a board of directors meeting right here on Cretaceous Station.’
Cries of disbelief and denial filled the meeting room. Colonel Daniel Drake, the head of the Blackwarter security and construction battalion, spoke up, ‘Is this a wise move Mark? You know how unpredictable this place is, particularly this early in our settlement. Why, we’ve been very lucky to have only lost two of our security personnel in the whole time we’ve been here. We have no idea what this world or its inhabitants may do next to surprise us. How can I guarantee the security of thirty board members without major disruptions in our work schedules.’
‘Well, you won’t have to Mark. We will be playing host to only eight, two of whom will be the dissenters.’ The remaining members have agreed to go along with the findings of this commission. My vote, of course, will be the tie breaker if needed.’
‘Now we have about three days to prepare ourselves for their arrival. We will be conducting a pre-inspection of the offices and labs prior to their arrival. I’m very concerned with neatness and the safety measures installed within each lab.’
‘I’m primarily thinking of you Marty.’ A wave of good-natured laughter sweeps the room. Doctor Martin Feldman is a physicist specializing in heavy particle interactions. Marty has a brilliant and quick mind that has a tendency to wander into interesting side experiments. The base technology for the Pulsar weapons arose miraculously from a drawing on the back of one of his napkins at lunch one day. Similarly, the concept and application of the displaywall virtual environments also arose, albeit from a more complex set of completely unauthorized experiments in his lab. However, he is known for maintaining a series of messy labs, often containing as many as a dozen or so ongoing, in progress and all too often dangerously powered up experiments.
Marty views these labs as his domain. He knows where everything is and he develops by inspiration often without taking time to include cumbersome and restrictive safety mechanisms. Visitors recognize that those who pass his threshold do so at their own risk both for physical damage if they are not careful, and for intellectual assault if they cannot keep up mentally with the rapid explanation of the physics behind Marty’s experiment of the hour.
A rare snicker on his face, Marty retorts, ‘Look, they don’t need to interrupt me. My work is not on the front line of what makes this drive tick. Can’t you simply keep them out of my offices?’
‘I will try my best to redirect them Marty but your name and honors have been brought up at too many board meetings. I know several of them have asked repeatedly to meet you. They may see this as an opportunity.’
‘Well, I can clean out a portion of the dark-matter lab. If they come in, I want to restrict them to this area. I don’t have time for this nonsense. Don’t worry though, I’ll be nice to them. Just don’t ask me out to lunch.’
‘It’s a deal Marty. To all of us, we need a lab cleanup. Anyone throwing anything should simply put it out in the hallway. We’ll have maintenance go through and pick up the things on Wednesday. Oh, and no junk picking like the last time. I don’t want this to be a redistribution of old equipment around the labs. If it’s out in the hall, it’s junk. Leave it there for the pickup, you cannot adapt it to another project.’
Mike Yatscho, a graviton wave optics designer, raised a question from across the far end of the room. ‘Just what are they looking for by visiting here? Surely they can see our progress from the data we sent. Also, what can we do to convince them that we need a spaceport here?’
‘Well Mike, the official explanation is that they want to evaluate the safety of the venture. There are certain connotations to our extinction event exit node. Even though it’s a thousand years away the danger sounds awfully close if you are looking at a sixty five million plus year trip. There’s also the common view of dinosaurs running around with nothing better to do than eat everything, and every human colonist in sight.’
‘In actuality I believe they want a closer look at our geosynchronous satellite telescope data. They know very well that we didn’t present all the information to them. I expect we’ll open our findings after they get here and they will confirm the results. This will immediately make enemies of two of the board members but it’s my intention to insure that the other members vote on our very profitable and lucrative side. We’ll have to be very careful on security here Dan. I mean internal security. I don’t want any of our sensitive data and findings going back without my personal approval.’
‘If all goes well I’ll introduce a measure that will remove these two guys from our board. That’s a battle best left for quieter times. OK. Any questions?’
Dan posed an immediate question, ‘What about Blackbird? Will they want to see the facility there? It’s rather primitive in the way of personal luxuries.’
‘No, I believe we don’t have to worry about that for now. There will be more than enough interesting topics for them to discover here at the Station during their visit. Ok, guess that’s it, let’s get back to work.’
* * * * *
A lead weight arches out over the ocean, the thin silistyrene line it trails is near invisible in the long golden rays of the setting sun. It strikes the sea, lifting bands of water into the air.
‘I want to catch a mosasaur Daddy! Can I hold the rod? Please!’
A tall, dark tanned man with close-cropped hair and the smooth, hard musculature of a body used to many different forms of heavy work turns to move a rock closer to the edge of the trail. Grabbing a “Y” shaped stick, he forces it into the ground before him and braces a few stones around it. He then sets the pole in his hand down to rest on the stand. ‘Settle down Gabe and be careful of the edge there. We don’t know what we’re going to catch but Mommy said she would like a good fish dinner.’
Corey Zavtek is a machinist toolmaker with the expedition. Like Anton, he likes building things. Unlike the architect, he can draw as much enjoyment from making a simple wooden box as he can from fixing a proton accelerator. This is one of the first free evenings he’s had to enjoy with his son since they arrived here.
‘Can I hold the pole Daddy?’
‘Why don’t you sit here and we’ll hang on to it together. You know, my Daddy used to take me fishing like this all the time. He always used to say “keep one hand on the pole all the time…” I think we’ll need to hold on with two hands around here.’
‘Watch over here Gabe, by that spot where all of the wood is floating on the surface. See them hitting the surface, those are real fish. I found this spot last week. There’s a drop-off there that is the edge of the river channel as it flows out to sea.’
Long rays of soft-red light soon flow across the sky. Below the fishermen a single ray from the setting sun refracts through water droplets thrown into the air by the surf into a sparkling aurora of faint colors that settle into the sea like a silk scarf blown in the wind. Another day is closing and the young star before them will soon pass behind the high headlands across the mouth of the river throwing shadows over this low sea edge.
Long shadows play across the cliffside above them. They slowly pass in unison, mimicking the setting of the sun except for one single dark shape. A cautious shape approaching from the mainland trail. The dark shadow moves silently with the grace and balance
of long practiced control. A partially covered, feathered muzzle filled with teeth emerges from behind the trails turn slightly above them. Brown eyes, reflecting an alien intelligence scan the trail ahead and behind. Vigilant and wary he travels. A body, almost four feet tall, covered in bronze colored feathers that reflect the rays of the setting sun like oil droplets on a pool of water. He emerges quietly from around the edge, his tail lightly flicking out over the trail’s edge in anticipation as he spots Gabe and Corey.
Feathers bristling, quivering in anticipation he launches himself towards them with a cry, ‘Gabe! Gabe you are here. What are you doing? Want to go and see longnecks I see them coming up on sandy side!’
‘Shhhh, quiet Fozzy you’ll scare the fish.’ Gabe shouts back.
‘Darn it Fozzy, give a guy a little warning.’ Corey grumbles as he slips his pistol back into his belt holster. ‘Come on over here and maybe you’ll learn something.’
The puzzled Hypsilophodon skips over beside them. His tail doesn’t allow him to easily turn on the narrow cliff trail but he manages to squat beside Gabe and Corey all the while looking closely at the rod in their hands.
Corey notices his difficulties, ‘Sorry Fozz, you seem to have a problem sitting out here. I guess it would have been easier if we went over to your fishing ledge but I wanted to try out here at the edge of the channel. Look, this is a fishing pole and if you …’
Suddenly the pole jerks down real hard but only once. Gabe’s hands try to pull up but Corey’s grip holds fast. The Hype pulls back, eye’s wide open in surprise.
‘Shh, shh. That was only a nibble, we have a fish on the other end Fozzy, now watch. This is a reel and we wind the string, this stuff, back up to bring the fish up toward us. You following this?’
‘That string goes way out into the channel and it has some food, we call it bait, and a …’
Corey suddenly jerks back hard in response to another tug on the pole. ‘Let me do it Daddy! Let me do it!’ Gabe is trying to grab it at the same time. Corey closes the bail on the real and spins the handle once or twice to take up the slack. Then he bends down and hands the bending, jiggling pole over to Gabe all the while watching protectively as he hovers over the young boy. ‘Here, but you really have to hang on to it! We can’t afford to go back for more of these you know.’
Fozzy’s mouth opens slightly as he watches Gabe stand and begin tugging against the pulling pole. Gabe begins to laugh, ‘It’s a big one Daddy! Look at the pole! Whoa!’
‘Not too hard. Slow down when he pulls the string out like that. That’s it, now pull back and reel in.’
As their catch approaches the shore, Corey reaches down to help Gabe guide the fish through the rocks. ‘Bring him up over those last rocks. Good, don’t let it go loose or he’ll get off the hook.’
Fozzy is hopping up and down, easily as excited as Gabe, ‘I can see, him big, big fish.’
The fish flies into the air the last few feet to land on the trail and Fozzy jumps and grabs him. ‘Oh, these good eating! So big! Not like little ones we catch at the ledge.’
‘Watch yourself, he’s got spines in those fins that can poke you and a hook in his mouth. Ouch, some pretty good teeth too. Here, let me get in there with the pliers. Grab him under the gills and hold him still. OK, into the stasis bag.’
‘OK Fozzy, think you can do as well. Wait, I have to bait the hook, or do you want to do it Gabe?’
‘Gabe runs over to their carrier and pulls out the can of white grubs they were using. ‘I can do it! Watch how Fozzy.’
Corey turns over to Fozzy, ‘Now step back. No, you have to let me have the pole. I’ll give it back to you in a minute. Now watch how I throw it out and I’ll let you try the next one.’
The pole tip whips through the air and the weighted bait goes flying out into the calm ocean. A splash and another fish jumps up to meet the bait before it can hit the water.
‘Got him! This is great fishing here! Looks like the same type as the one we just caught. OK, reel a little more in and come over here Fozzy. Now, grab the pole like Gabe did.’
Five nimble fingers with an opposable thumb grasp the rod. His other hand moves immediately to the handle on the reel. Roughly, with short hard jerks he spins the reel.
‘Fozzy, don’t push front and back with the handle and stand still will you! Make your hand go around in circles, like this. Here, just follow my movement. That’s it, now you are getting the hang of it.’
‘No, stop reeling when he pulls out like that. Wow, look at that jump! You have a great one Fozzy! Isn’t this fun? Fozzy? Fozzy?’
‘He’s OK Dad. He’s just concentrating. He did that when we were making slingshots last week. He’ll get the hang of it. You watch. He’s real smart.’
‘OK, bring it up on shore. Get it Gabe. OK, just a little wiggle like this and …. OK, this is your first one so you put it into the bag Fozzy. You’ll have to stay for supper! Rachel has a great pan-fried recipe for these.’
‘Well, Gabe I guess it’s your turn. Want to try and throw it out. Should be easy here, there’s no trees to hang up on.’
Eventually the red sun seems to grow in size as it slowly sets below the highlands across the waters before them. Night fliers are coming out, dancing their erratic flight across the sky as they chase bugs and other reptiles smaller than themselves. There are no clouds to fire the evening sky but the beauty of the glowing shadows and reflections on the ocean present their dusk show as three fishermen pack up and prepare to head home.
‘Ok, let’s go. Fozzy, did you hear me. What’s wrong with him now Gabe?’
‘Nothing wrong with me. Just worried. I hear a strange noise on the trail there and it doesn’t smell good.’
‘Well, what is it?’ Corey says as he lifts his pistol and moves forward.’
‘No, no don’t go that way. Better we go home. I don’t know what it is but it not good. We go now. Right now please!’
‘Cheez Fozzy, your giving me the creeps. OK, you two lead the way and I’ll make sure nothing follows.’
A few more yards down the trail, they approach the entrance to the hype caverns and Corey suddenly turns, ‘Yeah, now I did hear that. A warning grenade from the AutoSentinels at the trail’s end. Nothing more, it must have scared it away. Come on let’s go you guys, call it a night. Let’s go have some supper.’
References
1. Galton, P. M, 1974, The ornithischian dinosaur Hypsilophodon from the Wealden of the Isle of Wight. Bulletin of the British Museum (Natural History), Geology, v. 25, p. 1-52.
2. Scientific American (September 12, 2007), An Interview with Alex, the African Grey Parrot. sciam.com. Retrieved on September 12, 2007.
3. Paul, Gregory S. (2008). "The extreme lifestyles and habits of the gigantic tyrannosaurid superpredators of the Late Cretaceous of North America and Asia". In Carpenter, Kenneth; and Larson, Peter E. (editors). Tyrannosaurus rex, the Tyrant King (Life of the Past). Bloomington: Indiana University Press. p. 316. ISBN 0-253-35087-5. (Dinosaur feathers)
4. http://www.amnh.org/science/papers/feathered_tyrannosaur.php
The Hypsilophodont, or Hype as we call it in our story, was a herding animal that lived in burrows. There is ample evidence they cared for their young. They had five fingered hands with opposable thumbs, although you can see a lot of debate on this in our first reference. Any discussion of intelligence here is purely hypothetical.
This genus of dinosaur stuck around and evolved from the middle Jurassic period until the extinction. That’s over a hundred million years of evolution in a body that some paleontologists seem to feel is too small and unarmored to survive. Nature must have been doing something with them in order for them to survive a hundred times longer than HomoSapiens has been on the planet.
As for their true intelligence, I would direct you to our second reference study on the calculating, thinking and verbal capabilities of Alex, an African grey parrot. Parrots are theropods, and not ornithopods like our Hypsilophodont but some sim
ilarities continue between the two families.
This grey parrot has a relatively small brain even in relation to his body size. Yet he can think and speak quite clearly as well as basic math problems. Perhaps our assumption of dinosaur intelligence is vastly underrated just as our belief in their ability to have well developed feathers is now changing very rapidly.
Even the T-Rex is now known to be at least partially feathered, reference 3 and, from the American Museum of Natural History web site (reference 4):
“This new finding suggests that other tyrannosaurs, such as Albertosaurus sarcophagus, Daspletosaurus torosus, and even the most fierce Tyrannosaurus rex, were covered with fluffy protofeathers at some stage in their lives.”
Chapter 4 : Dark Shadows
“There are dark shadows on the earth, but its lights are stronger in the contrast."
Charles Dickens
A small, frozen world of ice and rock wanders in from the dark empty depths, drawn into the deep gravity well of a medium sized yellow star. Rock-hard ice crystals, warmed by the radiation, begin to sublimate; transitioning from frozen solid directly into water vapor. Just small amounts of the starward surface at first, then gradually more and larger sections soften. Soon a few of the embedded rocks stream off into the vacuum carried away on the very solar wind that warmed and released them. The naked radiation of the star bathes the molecules of the vapor knocking electrons off, ionizing particles. Energized electrons of the ions gradually lose energy and they fall to a lower energy state in their atomic orbits and release a fleet-footed photon into the cosmos that will travel on for eons. Like the windswept hair of a Valkyrie, the ionized gas of the rock trails off thousands of miles fleeing the star, swept violently along by the cosmic wind. The tail grows longer and brighter as it nears the star, marking the passage and slow destruction of the small world as the vapor flees the winds of the sun.
Hunter's Moon (Cretaceous Station Book 2) Page 8