Sapiosaurus | Out Of Time

by Lon McQuillin

  Just then, Touolok came through the doorway and joined her mate. She greeted the humans, who responded in kind.

  Hummford introduced Ruggiero, Lightfoot and Behling to the Sapios, and there were bows all around.

  “How are you feeling today?” asked Hummford.

  “We are both much improved. Food and rest have helped to strengthen us.”

  “I am pleased to hear that. How shall we proceed today?”

  “My wife must examine us both.” Looking at McCollum, he added, “Your doctor is welcome to observe, and perhaps assist.”

  “Thank you,” said McCollum.

  Now it was Garlmek’s turn to look surprised, with a tilt of his head. He didn’t think that any of the humans other than Florence had learned their manner of speaking.

  Ruggiero noticed the expression on his face, and guessed that it indicated surprise. “Many of us have been studying your manner of speaking. Florence and I have devoted our full attention to this study. We now hold classes for the others.”

  Garlmek was impressed, and yet, this is precisely what the Noaud would have done were the situation reversed. Still, it was a good sign of the humans’ intentions.

  “Shall we proceed?” asked McCollum. The Sapios bowed, and turned towards the infirmary.

  “Ask if you and I can join them and talk during the physical,” Mitchell said to Hummford. She translated, and the Sapios agreed. Reynolds decided to join them as well.

  The two dinosaurs and four humans crossed the main chamber to the infirmary, McCollum rolling the medical cart that Lightfoot and Reynolds had carried up the stairs for her. Ruggiero, Lightfoot and Behling crossed to the library to continue their studies.

  Once inside the infirmary, Garlmek went to one of the form-fitted tables and climbed in to it, lying face up. Touolok went to the shelves on the inside wall to find her instruments. It was obvious that the order of the items had been disturbed, and she hesitated. Mitchell noticed the hesitation.

  “Tell her that many of the objects had fallen to the floor, and we put them back without knowing the proper arrangement.”

  Hummford translated, and Touolok nodded her understanding. The linguist was struck by the fact that so much of human and Sapio body language was similar.

  The Noaud physician surveyed the shelves, and then crossed to the end of the room, where she approached a pedestal that resembled a four-foot tall martini glass in shape, save for being triangular. Each of the three sides of its top surface measured about three feet. She grasped the upper edge, and the pedestal lifted off the floor about three-quarters of an inch. She guided it to the shelves. When she released the edge, it settled smoothly to the floor. She began to move various items onto the top surface.

  “A floating medical tray,” McCollum marveled.

  Her selection of items complete, Touolok moved the tray over to the examination table where Garlmek waited. She began with a scan of his internal organs.

  Picking up an object that resembled one of the library’s tablets, she checked to see if it was charged. It was not. She carried it to the outside wall, and placed it on a raised flat surface on a long workbench. Touching a control, she transferred enough energy for one measure’s operation, and then returned to the examining table.

  “This is a viewer. It will allow me to examine Garlmek’s internal organs, nervous system, and vascular system along with other parts of his anatomy.”

  McCollum got some, but not all of what she had said, and asked Hummford to translate. Hummford also had gotten some, but not all of it, but in combination, they were able to understand the gist of it.

  Touolok touched a control on the side of the table, activating its internal emitters. She knew they would work, since they drew power from the mastaba’s main power system.

  She set the viewer to show the equivalent of an X-ray, and started at Garlmek’s head.

  McCollum came as close as seemed comfortable, and was astonished at what she saw.

  As the Sapio doctor moved the viewer over her husband’s body, it showed his interior, much as in a human X-ray, but with sharper detail, and in color. There were constantly-changing readouts at the sides of the image.

  Having spent weeks studying the Sapiosaur anatomy, McCollum recognized what she was seeing, and as Touolok moved the viewer down Garlmek’s body, she saw that he appeared to be healthy.

  Completing the first scan, Touolok activated a different mode that would show the state of the nervous system, and started again at the head. The screen now showed a complex web of nerves. The strands of the web sparkled in silver as nerve impulses moved within his body. As she moved the viewer over his chest, the viewer highlighted several nerve branches in yellow. Seeing this, she stopped and touched a sequence of characters on the screen. As she did, she spoke to McCollum.

  “There is some minor nerve damage. This will repair it.”

  The nerves that had been displayed in yellow were now bathed in a light blue glow.

  “The viewer can effect treatment?” asked McCollum.

  “The viewer directs the table to effect treatment. It is stimulating the replacement of damaged cells.”

  McCollum turned to Mitchell. “This is like something out of science fiction.”

  After several minutes, the blue glow faded, and the display showed the affected cells sparkling in the same silver color as the rest of his system.

  Touolok continued her scans with the viewer, explaining to McCollum what she was doing, and finding very little amiss with her mate. After about a half measure — forty-five minutes, to the humans — she completed her scans and treatments, and drew a blood sample. She took it to the far side of the room, where she started arranging and activating various pieces of equipment.

  Some of the devices were familiar to McCollum. The centrifuge and autoclave were not too different from their human counterparts. Others were completely foreign.

  The Noaud physician took the blood sample and injected it into the sample chamber of her chemical analyzer. With the touch of several controls, she set it to perform a complete blood test. The screen lit up with a three-dimensional view of Garlmek’s blood as if seen through a microscope, with textual readouts running along side it.

  “This is very good,” she told the human doctor. “Already the artificial blood in his body is beginning to be replaced by new natural blood.”

  As the two medics worked on the blood test, Mitchell spoke with Garlmek through Hummford.

  “I would like to establish a schedule for discussions between us that would be comfortable for you and Touolok. We have much we would like to learn, and I’m sure you still have many questions.”

  “We would be pleased to agree to such a schedule,” Hummford translated.

  “There are many details of your habits of which we’re ignorant. Your eating and sleeping times, for instance. And considering what you’ve been through, we don’t want to wear you out.”

  The Sapio explained that they normally ate twice a day — once upon rising, and again in mid afternoon. They slept for roughly the same amount of time as did the humans.

  Based on his information, Mitchell proposed a schedule of ten-hour days for the next week or so, starting at nine in the morning and running until what would be a late lunch for the humans, and then resuming until around seven at night. She offered to arrange a schedule of meetings with members of the research team from various scientific and technical disciplines, starting later that day with Dick Behling. Garlmek agreed.

  The doctors returned, and Garlmek got off of the examining table. His wife performed a series of tests of his reflexes before declaring him to be basically fit.

  “There is nothing amiss that additional rest will not cure.”

  It was now Touolok’s turn to be examined. Her husband had received complete instruction on the medical techniques, but asked McCollum to assist. As the morning wore on, McCollum asked an endless stream of questions about the equipment and its underlying technology, which the tw
o Sapios patiently explained. Hummford was stretched to and beyond her ability to translate in many instances. McCollum felt as if she’d gone back to medical school.

  •

  Sheila Eakins unlocked the outer door to Billy Joe Wilder’s office and entered the reception area. She was pleased to see the light coming under the door to Billy Joe’s office. He had asked her if she could stay late that evening and “help her with something,” but she’d had to decline, since she had plans to go to dinner and a movie with one of the other women who worked at the Diamond Cathedral.

  When she’d gotten home, however, the light on answering machine was blinking. Her friend wasn’t feeling well, and had left a message begging off on the date. After debating with herself, she decided to make the short drive back to the office on the chance that Billy Joe would still be there.

  Smiling, she opened the inner door and entered his office. Her smile froze for a moment, and then dissolved to an anguished gape as she realized what she was seeing. There on the sofa was Lucile Richardson, the choir’s lead alto, her blouse pulled open, her skirt pulled up above her waist with her legs spread wide. Her pantyhose and panties were on the floor. On top of her, with his pants pulled down around his ankles, was Billy Joe Wilder, energetically engaged in sexual intercourse.

  Lucile moaned. Sheila screamed. Billy Joe said “Huh?” and looked over, and as he thrust deep inside Lucile, he halted his movement, momentarily flustered. Then he collected himself, grinned, and said, “Hello, Sheila, darlin’. Why don’t you join us?”

  Sheila screamed again, and backing out of the room, slammed the door behind her. As she turned to leave, the phone rang, and her years of answering it took control. She picked up the receiver with a trembling hand and said “Hello?”

  “Miss Eakins, is that you? This is Eugene Northrup.”

  “Oh, Eugene,” she sobbed, breaking down in tears.

  •

  In his room, Northrup straightened in his chair.

  “Miss Eakins! What’s the matter?”

  For a moment, all she could do was weep. Finally, her voice quivering, she replied. “It’s Billy Joe! I just found him fornicating with Lucile Richardson, one of the choir members!”

  He was confused, and thought he must have misunderstood her. What he thought he had heard her say simply couldn’t be correct. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but what did you just say?”

  “I said I just caught Billy Joe fucking some harlot when he was supposed to be fucking me!” she wailed.

  He had understood her the first time after all. But this still couldn’t be right. And he couldn’t imagine Miss Eakins using such filthy language.

  “Miss Eakins, that doesn’t make any sense. Reverend Wilder’s a married man. He’s completely devoted to doing God’s work.”

  “The only thing that two-timing slimeball’s devoted to is his penis.”

  •

  In the reception room at the Diamond Cathedral, the door to Wilder’s office opened, and Wilder emerged, in the process of zipping up his trousers. Lucile Richardson was right behind him, tucking her blouse into her skirt. She made a beeline for the outer door while Wilder approached Sheila’s desk. As she lowered the phone to her side, Northrup could hear both sides of the conversation.

  “Sheila, darlin’, that wasn’t what it looked like.”

  “It looked like you were fucking Lucile Richardson.” Venom dripped from her words.

  Wilder squirmed at the bluntness of the term. He’d never heard Sheila use that word before. “Well, in a purely technical sense, I suppose that’s what it looked like, but…”

  “In a technical sense? How ‘bout in a physical sense? And her a married woman!”

  “Sheila, darlin’, it’s not my fault. It just happened. It didn’t mean anything.”

  “I came back here to quote, help you out with something, unquote, and find you with your pecker inside Lucile Richardson. The same pecker that’s been inside me — that you make me take in my mouth!”

  “But Sheila, darlin’, what we have is special. What just happened don’t mean nothin’.”

  “I bet it don’t mean nothin’. How ‘bout I tell your wife it don’t mean nothin’?”

  Wilder’s eyes narrowed as his mood shifted abruptly.

  “Now listen to me, you little twat. You breath one word of this to my wife — or what’s been going on between us — and you’ll regret it for the rest of your very short life.”

  Sheila shrank back from Wilder, horrified by the transformation in his manner and his threat.

  It was only then that Wilder noticed the phone receiver in Sheila’s hand.

  “Who’s that you’re talkin’ to?”

  “What?” She’d forgotten about the call from Northrup.

  “Who’s on the phone?” Wilder realized that whoever was on the line had probably heard the entire conversation.

  “It’s… it’s Eugene Northrup,” she stammered, still seething.

  “Give me that,” said Wilder, grabbing the receiver from her hand. “Hello, Eugene?” he said into the mouthpiece. There was no response. Northrup had just pushed the “End” button on his phone.

  •

  Northrup felt as though the room was spinning around him. He was devastated. He’d believed in Wilder, and now it was obvious that the man was a charlatan. He sat without moving, feeling numb, for more than twenty minutes. When his phone rang, he didn’t answer it, since the only person who knew how to reach him was Wilder.

  He first searched for some explanation of how he might have misunderstood what he’d been told and overheard, but could find none. He then tried to think of how Wilder’s actions could be justified, but again, couldn’t find a way to do so. Wilder had actively projected the image of being a man of God, but his actions betrayed him. He wasn’t just a two-timer, he was a three-timer. Probably even a more-than-three-timer.

  He considered what this revelation meant to the mission he was on, and the actions he had set in motion. In less than 16 hours, his bomb would explode inside the infirmary in the Penthouse, destroying the two Sapiosaurs. Despite his misgivings, he had felt he was carrying out the will of the Lord. All of the teachings to which he’d been exposed his entire life supported his mission, but he’d relied in particular on the logic Wilder had impressed upon him.

  Now that Wilder had exposed himself as a hypocrite when it came to morals, how could he trust what he’d said about the Sapiosaurs?

  He knelt at his cot and tried to pray for guidance from God, but the attempt simply made him feel worse. It occurred to him that in the past, he’d prayed to the Lord for the strength to carry out the task of killing creatures — creatures God had put on Earth in the first place. The thought made him feel ill.

  Distraught and tired from lack of sleep, he got off his knees, lay down on his cot and buried his face in the pillow. Trying to decide what was right, and what to do, was more than he could handle at the moment.

  •

  At the NSA satellite monitoring facility in West Virginia, Jerome Adams scratched his nose as he giggled. He picked up the handset of his phone and punched in Gordon Winston’s extension.

  “Winston here.”

  “Mr. Winston, this is Jerry Adams. We just intercepted another call from that guy Northrup in Antarctica to Billy Joe Wilder.”

  “Anything out of the ordinary?”

  “Well, yes, I guess you could say that.” He related the contents of the phone call to Winston.

  “I’ll be damned,” came the response.

  Adams couldn’t suppress another giggle. “No, sir, I suspect Billy Joe Wilder’s the one who’ll be damned.”

  Winston chuckled. “Maybe this will deter our boy from carrying out any plans he has for attacking our new friends. See if you can contact Dan Lightfoot or Commander Taylor and let them know what’s going on.”

  “Yes sir.”

  After trying to reach Lightfoot by secured phone without success, Adams called the site’s standard number
and got through to Taylor. He played the tape for him, and summarized the preliminary assessment, and Taylor promised to have Lightfoot call back as soon as possible.

  After hanging up, Taylor walked to the window in the office door. He’d been keeping an eye out for Northrup, but there’d been no sign of him since just after breakfast. The fundamentalist student had evidently gone back to his room, made his call, and been in there ever since.

  Taylor wasn’t sure that there was any cause for relief, though. Having Northrup upset simply added a possible further complication.

  •

  Northrup awoke with a start. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep, and he was momentarily confused. He looked at his travel alarm, and was surprised to see that it was nearly noon. Although the alarm said 11:57 AM, it was set 15 minutes early — a habit he’d learned from his father that helped keep him punctual.

  He lay watching the colon between the numbers blink, thinking about what he’d heard during the call to Wilder. His initial anger and confusion had calmed somewhat, and he felt in a better mood to analyze the situation and make a decision. Since the bomb wouldn’t go off until midnight, there was still ample time to approach Reynolds or Lightfoot and confess to his actions.

  The moment he thought about it — confessing his actions — he immediately felt better. Wilder had been wrong. Wilder was a liar, and a cheat and a charlatan, and he’d been wrong about the dinosaurs. The Sapios were gentle, intelligent creatures, and the fact that the human race had never discovered their existence didn’t mean that God hadn’t made them too.

  Considering the facts, he grew increasingly convinced that it was his duty to deactivate the bomb. It would be personally embarrassing, and he’d probably be punished, but he saw that it was the right thing to do.

  As he lay staring at his alarm, the numbers jumped from 11:59 AM to 12:00 PM. Exactly 12 hours, he thought, plus his additional 15 minute safety.

  And then he raised his head, and stared at the display. It said 12:00 PM! It should say 12:00 AM! 12:00 AM was noon! 12:00 PM was midnight!

  He sat up. Oh God! No. 12:00 PM was noon, just as 12:01 PM was afternoon! He’d set the timer wrong! The bomb would go off in less than 15 minutes!