The Evolution of Claire (Jurassic World)

by Tess Sharpe

  But there’s another feeling underneath it. A hunger. A need.

  To see her. To know. To witness that fierce glory.

  “You think…you think she heard me?” His voice cracks a little, and he lets out a nervous laugh, and I join him, because oh my God.

  That’s her. The T. rex. I know it. She’s right on the other side of that wall. She probably heard the jeep’s engine. I wonder if she thinks it’s someone bringing her dinner. How do they feed her? Bertie mentioned being on shift to do it once a week, and I want to ask her more about it now. They can’t possibly go inside the paddock with her. That seems way too risky.

  “We should go,” Justin says, and I almost protest, even though it’s silly.

  It’s not like I can go inside.

  “Yeah,” I say, my eyes still fixed on the wall, half hoping she’ll roar again. But as I press on the gas and we continue, there’s just the normal rustle of the jungle and the wind whipping my cheeks.

  * * *

  When we get to the training center where the herbivore trainers hang out, I look over at Justin after we park. “You don’t have to come inside with me,” I say, but Justin shakes his head.

  “I get where you’re coming from,” he says. “And Bertie should have all the details so she can make an informed decision. It’s not fair to Pearl otherwise, and Oscar doesn’t like her, clearly.”

  So we knock on the door lightly and a voice shouts, “Come on in!”

  This building is set up much like the one we did inventory in. Sarah’s sitting at the break table, a sandwich in front of her. When she sees us, she wipes a smear of mustard off her cheek.

  “Hey,” she says. “I…don’t have interns assigned to me today, do I?”

  “No, we were assigned to the valley today,” Justin says.

  “We’re looking for Bertie.”

  “She’s off for lunch too,” Sarah says. “Anything I can help you with?”

  “It really needs to be Bertie,” I say. She has the most authority here. She’ll listen to me.

  “Okay, well, I think she was going over to Main Street. Her girlfriend runs one of the construction crews working over there. You’ll probably be able to find her if it’s urgent.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “We’ll go do that.” Hopefully, Oscar hasn’t beaten us there.

  * * *

  It feels like every time we visit Main Street, it looks different…more put together. We park the jeep at the construction cordons and head down the street on foot. The buzz of a saw fills my ears as we pass an empty building that looks like it’ll be a restaurant eventually, and we stop to give a wider path to some workers carrying barstools topped with scaly faux dinosaur hide before we move on.

  “There she is,” Justin says, nodding across the street, where Bertie’s talking to a shorter woman with explosively curly hair. Bertie bends down and kisses her on the cheek, then plucks the hard hat out of her hand and places it on her head. She turns to leave and catches sight of us. I wave, and she says one last thing to her girlfriend before heading toward us.

  “Claire, Justin, what are you doing here?” she asks.

  “We wanted to talk to you,” I say. “There was an…” I pause. I don’t want to call it an incident because that sounds bad. “Something happened today when we were testing the Gyrospheres with Oscar and his team. Everything’s fine,” I hasten to add. “It’s just…we had to get out of the sphere, and Pearl saw it sitting there, empty.”

  Bertie’s eyes widen. “Oh no,” she says.

  “Yeah,” Justin says. “She was pretty excited.”

  Bertie rubs her temples, closing her eyes. “And Oscar saw all this?”

  “No, he wasn’t there,” I say. “We’re fine. Obviously. She just wanted to bat it around.”

  “I don’t even know if she noticed we were there,” Justin adds. “But she got the Gyrosphere pretty good. We had to get away, so we ditched it.”

  “That was smart,” Bertie says. “I’m really glad you two are okay. Pearl isn’t vicious, but her size and her energy can make her scary. I understand if you’re feeling shaken.”

  “Oscar and his team had to pick us up, so he does know,” Justin says.

  “He wasn’t happy,” I say. “But it wasn’t her fault, Bertie. I promise. She wasn’t going for us.”

  “I know she wasn’t,” Bertie assures me, reaching out and clasping my shoulder for a second, giving me a warm smile. “I appreciate how concerned you are about her.”

  “Oscar said he was going to talk to you,” I tell her. “That’s why we came over. I wanted to tell you about it from our perspective too. So you have the whole story.”

  “Thank you, both of you,” Bertie says.

  “He said…” I bite my lip. “He was talking about isolating her.”

  “It’s a subject that’s been discussed,” Bertie says, gesturing for us to follow her down Main Street, out of the way of a crew carrying a large window down the sidewalk. She leads us to a little picnic area overlooking the water, and we sit down across from her at a table.

  “You won’t let that happen, will you?” I ask.

  “It’s not fully up to me,” Bertie says solemnly. “It’s not what I want. But Pearl is very energetic for a Brachiosaurus. She’s like a Saint Bernard that thinks it’s a lapdog. And while she’s highly trainable, I admit, it’s been difficult to find distractions and stimuli for her that she enjoys as much as batting the Gyrospheres around.”

  “Could you try another kind of ball?” Justin asks.

  Bertie sighs. “None of them held up for more than a minute.”

  I look out at the water, racking my brain. There has to be some way to help Pearl.

  “We’re going to continue to work on it, I promise,” Bertie says. “I will listen to Oscar’s concerns and bring all this to management, of course. But there is still time to find a happy solution for Pearl that doesn’t involve taking her out of her home or away from her family. We just need to get creative.”

  “We can help,” I offer. “I know it’s probably not much, but we’d be happy to. All of our friends too. I know they’d be happy to brainstorm stuff.”

  Bertie smiles at me. It’s not an indulgent smile, but a grateful one. “Thank you, Claire. That’s a very kind offer. And I’ll take you up on it. If you or any of your friends think of any ideas that might help, come and find me.”

  The radio in her pocket crackles. “I should get going,” she says. “Oscar will be looking for me. Thank you for giving me the heads-up about Pearl. And I’m glad you’re both okay and think quick on your feet.”

  She heads off, disappearing in the hustle and bustle of the construction workers, and I get up and walk toward the water, feeling restless and disappointed.

  “They’ll figure out a solution,” Justin says, catching up with me. “Masrani has the greatest minds of several generations working here.”

  “I hope so,” I say, wishing I could be more of an optimist. I just hate the idea of Pearl being punished for being herself. It’s not fair.

  We walk down the path near the water until we come across a flagged area and a sign warning WET CEMENT. The newly poured sidewalk stretches in front of us, shining in the sunlight.

  “I guess we should get back,” I say, and I’m about to turn when I catch the mischievous glint in Justin’s eye.

  “Or,” he says, “I could cheer you up.”

  He kneels down, ducking underneath the tape that blocks off the area.

  “Justin!” I step forward, but it’s too late. He’s dipping his finger in the wet cement, writing something. For a second, I can’t quite see what it is, but after about a minute, he pulls back, and he’s right. It completely cheers me up. It makes me laugh and it makes me like him so much and it makes me want to…I dunno. It makes me want to do a lot of things. Most
of all, lean over and kiss him, I think.

  But I am not that brave. I do kneel down next to him, though, and smile.

  He’s written Pearl Was Here in a corner of the square of sidewalk and sketched the outline of a Brachiosaurus footprint. It’s sweet and it’s forever and it’s definitely the nicest thing a guy’s ever done for me.

  “Can I?” he asks, and I nod before he takes my hand and presses it into the cement, and then does the same with his own, next to mine, our pinkies almost touching.

  When we pull our hands out, leaving our little mark on Jurassic World, there for future guests to see and wonder about and walk over, I look at him.

  “You took my side,” I say. “Even though you see Oscar’s point.”

  “I told you I have your back,” he replies. “I mean it. And your approach makes more sense.”

  “All about logic, huh?”

  His smiles and shakes his head. Without his glasses, his eyes shine brighter. His hair falls right into them, and I want to push it back, but I’m wise enough not to do it with a hand coated in wet cement.

  “You’re smart, Claire,” he says. “Not just book smart. We’re all book smart here. But you think about things differently. You come at stuff from angles other people don’t consider. That’s…I guess it should be intimidating, but I’ve been too busy thinking it’s cool.”

  I lick my lips. They feel very dry all of a sudden. My fingers curl in the grass, and blood rushes to my cheeks.

  “That’s possibly the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I say. Because it is. Because I’m sitting here with him, and it’s comfortable in ways I never thought something like this could be.

  “I like the way you think too,” I say. “I may come at stuff from different angles, but you pull back to see the whole picture. How the different sides and goals of this place intersect and feed into each other. You see how everything’s connected. And I’m over here focused on the dinosaurs.”

  “They are kind of attention grabbing,” he deadpans.

  I laugh, almost pressing my hand against my lips before realizing that’s a bad idea at the last second. I fish around in my bag with my dry hand and come up with a package of wet wipes and a bottle of hand sanitizer. We wash the cement residue from our hands and stand up, examining our work.

  Pearl Was Here. A dino print and two handprints.

  I look up at Justin, only to find him already looking at me. It’s one of those moments when everything teeters and then stills. Then he speaks.

  “You know I like you, right?” The way he says it is so easy and the way it makes me feel is so fluttery, as if I’m going to rise off the ground at any second.

  “I like you too,” I say, because I can be brave sometimes and I can be truthful even more often.

  His smile widens, and I smile back, and then we both kind of nervously start laughing, the confession out there, the tension dissipating with our laughter.

  “Come on,” he says, and when he holds out his hand, I take it, and he doesn’t let go until we get back to the jeep.

  “Claire? Hey, Claire!”

  I startle, looking up from Iz’s notebook. I’ve become absorbed in her story—I finally got a first name from one of the journal entries. Iz is short for Izzie, which is probably short for Isobel. Izzie had a hypothesis about the Brachiosauruses’ throat infections. While the vets managed to catch Agnes’s infection before it got bad enough to need surgery, both Brachiosauruses were on high levels of antibiotics in February. I wonder if they still are. But maybe they found the underlying reason and fixed it…I’ll have to look ahead to Izzie’s later entries. I haven’t had a lot of time to read it, since the program has so much going on and I have to prioritize my own note-taking.

  Today is my first day in the lab with Dr. Wu. I’m more nervous about going there than I was in that clearing with Pearl, I swear.

  “Sorry,” I tell Tanya, closing Izzie’s notebook and putting it in my bag. “Are you ready to head over?”

  “Yes and no,” Tanya says with her usual cheerful honesty. “You think he’s going to be as tough as they say?”

  Everyone’s who’s spent any time doing an assignment in Dr. Wu’s lab—even if it’s just dropping off equipment or papers—seems to have a story about his dislike of the interns. It makes me even more worried about today. What if he’s even tougher on me because I’m not a science student like Tanya? She has the definite advantage here.

  “Probably worse,” I say, and she lets out a short chuckle. “But maybe we’ll impress him…somehow.”

  I grab my bag and get up, and we head toward the hotel lobby. We’re almost at the lobby doors when a voice calls out.

  “Hey, Claire, Tanya, wait up!”

  We turn to see Eric loping toward us, his camera around his neck. “Mr. Masrani asked me to get lab footage today. Can I drive with you?”

  “Dr. Wu’s gonna love that,” Tanya says.

  Eric shrugs. “Gotta do what the boss says.”

  “Do not mess this up for me,” Tanya warns her twin. “Dr. Wu’s in charge of hiring all the science team. If I get a recommendation from him, I’ll be able to get into any graduate school I want.”

  “I know,” Eric says, and his voice softens. “I’m not gonna do anything to screw it up. You’re gonna blow him away.”

  “Seriously, Tanya, you don’t have anything to worry about—you were his first pick,” I say.

  Tanya looks at me. “What?” she asks.

  “I overheard him talking to Mr. Masrani the first time we visited the lab, after you talked about habitats. You were the first person he said he wanted to work in the lab.”

  “Oh my God, really?” Her eyes widen at the thought. “That’s incredible.”

  “He already thinks you’re smart. You’ll impress him.”

  “So will you,” Tanya says as we get into our jeep.

  “I don’t think so,” I say. “He didn’t seem to like the fact that Justin was a business major, even though he’s minoring in chem. He’ll probably hate it when he finds out I’m in poli-sci.”

  “Well, that background gives you a different take on things,” Tanya says helpfully, and I laugh, shaking my head.

  “It’s okay. I’m just gonna try my best. It’s all I can do.”

  Even though I sound positive, I feel anything but as we pull up to the command center and take the elevator down to the labs. My palms are sweating as the door dings open. Dr. Wu is standing there, waiting for us.

  “Ms. Dearing. Ms. Skye. Mr. Skye.”

  “Mr. Masrani sent me to record footage,” Eric says.

  “I’ve been informed,” Dr. Wu says brusquely. “Come along.”

  He leads us through the labs, which are bustling with activity. I count at least thirty people on our way through the four main lab rooms. There’s a whole group of them gathered around a centrifuge, staring at it like it holds the answers to the universe. Farther along, two women have a series of blood samples laid out on the table, and as we pass by, I can see they’re labeled Tyrannosaurus rex. I think about the roar Justin and I heard yesterday and shiver just at the thought of it. It was like I could taste the roar at the back of my throat, and I didn’t even see her. The power of one sound. I guess that’s what helps make her the true ruler of Jurassic World. The top of the food chain. What must it be like to look into her eyes? To see all those teeth? I desperately want to know.

  Dr. Wu leads us to the back of the lab floor down a corridor to a small room lined with long tables holding a series of beakers set on burners.

  “I believe you’ve seen our fusion bandages in action?” Dr. Wu asks.

  “Yes, when Lovelace was hurt,” says Tanya.

  “Ah, what name will they come up with next?” Dr. Wu says, shaking his head, but I think there’s a smile in his eyes. “Anyway, the comp
ound that makes up the bandage is quite complex and requires a number of steps to formulate. This is step one. These liquids need to be kept at seventy-five degrees Celsius for twenty-four hours. You will sit here”—he points to the stools—“and monitor them. I will be right over there, doing my own work.” He settles down at the table opposite ours, facing us as he sets out his computer and tablet. “Any questions?” he asks.

  “What’s in them?” Eric asks.

  “That’s a secret,” Dr. Wu says, steel in his voice. “Any other questions?”

  Tanya and I shake our heads, but Eric doesn’t seem to know when to stop, “So we’re just going to be in this room watching liquid boil?”

  “Boiling point is one hundred degrees Celsius, Eric,” Tanya mutters, looking like she wants to jab her brother.

  “I’m just saying it won’t make the most interesting footage,” Eric says, and Tanya flushes, mortified.

  “I cannot let you wander around my lab unwatched, Mr. Skye,” Dr. Wu says.

  “Just for a little bit?” Eric asks. “I won’t touch anything.”

  “No,” Dr. Wu says firmly.

  Eric sighs in defeat, sitting down on one of the stools.

  Tanya and I take our places, our eyes glued to the beakers and the thermometers fixed to them.

  It’s boring work. Incredibly boring. But sometimes something tedious turns into something amazing. And those fusion bandages are amazing. I can’t even imagine the difference they’ll make in the medical field once they—we—figure out a way to get them to adhere to nondinosaur skin.

  “Dr. Wu, is your team experimenting with getting the fusion bandages to work on other animals and people?” I ask.

  He looks up from his tablet. “Not my team,” he says. “But there is work being done on that particular project.” He doesn’t elaborate.

  Eric fiddles with his camera, not bothering to record us, because why would he? He’s reviewing old footage, I realize as I glance at him. Stuff from the Gyrosphere Valley. I can see the Triceratops from here.