Dinosaur Thunder

by James F. David

  “They’ve gone to the Inhuman village,” Conyers said. “That’s what they call them,” she said, pointing at the bodies.

  “They were trying to kill you,” Weller said.

  “Not at first,” Jacob said. “They came to tell us something about the asteroid, and Dr. Paulson, Reverend, and a man named Carson went to see what they wanted.”

  “Asteroid?” John asked.

  As one, they all pointed at the sky where the glowing dot that had hung over the trees had stopped rising and seemed to have sunk toward the horizon.

  “How long do we have?” John asked, quickly realizing the time period they had dropped into.

  “I think we’re about out of time,” Conyers said.

  “Anybody can tell that just by how low the asteroid is,” Wynooski said. “You can see it’s coming in at a pretty low angle. A little lower, and it would just skip right off the atmosphere and go back into space.”

  “It won’t,” John said.

  “I’m just saying it could,” Wynooski said, hands on her hips, looking defiant.

  “Where’s this village Nick and the others went to?” John asked. “I need to find them.”

  “Follow him,” John said, pointing at the triceratops, its harness still intact, coming out of the trees and angling across the meadow.

  “Lieutenant Weller, get these people out,” John said. “That asteroid will hit any time now, and when it does, everyone and everything will die. I’m going to get Dr. Paulson and the others.”

  “Kelton and Snead will go with you,” Weller said looking at the asteroid, and then John. Without a question, Weller called the men over and gave orders. “We’ll come back for you if there’s time.”

  “There won’t be,” John said, then turned, double-timing it after the retreating triceratops.

  “The closest way out is that way,” Conyers said.

  “That might be a problem,” Weller said. “We had to deviate around a pod of tyrannosaurs back that way.”

  “What choice do we have?” Conyers asked.

  “Are you sure you can find it?” Weller asked.

  “Yes,” Conyers said.

  “Okay, let’s get them up and moving,” Weller said.

  “We’ve got several dead, and we’re still bandaging wounded,” Jacob said.

  “Get them buried, because we’re moving as soon as we patch up your people,” Weller said. “Ranger, do you know first aid?”

  “Of course I know first aid,” Wynooski said, moving indignantly toward the crowd. “Any moron can do first aid.”

  Conyers looked at the asteroid and realized she could see it creeping across the sky, moving like the minute hand of a clock. Estimating the distance between the asteroid and the horizon, she wondered if they even had enough time for first aid.

  45

  Monitoring

  They launched one of their secret ships out of Area Fifty-one. We have witnesses that confirm it! They are up there in orbit right now, doing God-knows-what! Well, I know what, and I am here to tell you. That’s why you listen. The government is in orbit to meet with alien emissaries about why our trigger-happy government blew up their base up on the moon. All you listening out there better hope that whoever they sent up there is one smooth talker, or else it will be interstellar war.

  —Cat Bellow, host of Radio Rebel

  Present Time

  Lake County, Florida

  Emmett Puglisi monitored the loading of the Aurora remotely through a secure Internet feed. From cameras mounted around Cape Canaveral, Puglisi saw the Aurora land, and then camouflaged by ground crews. Then the cargo was loaded on the Earth-to-orbit aircraft. At the same time, Emmett monitored the opening at the Mills Ranch. Fanny and Marty Mills were infinitely cooperative, opening their ranch to marines and technicians, who had installed even more monitoring equipment. From his lab, Emmett could remotely measure every conceivable kind of radiation emitted from the opening, as well as sample gases and detect thermal changes.

  Emmett’s primary concern was that moving the orgonic material from the isolation lab to Cape Canaveral would affect the nexus. His worst fear was that shifting the orgonic material would move the nexus or, worse, close it. Knowing that orgonic energy was affected by form gave Emmett some confidence the material could be moved. Emmett suspected that it was the geology or the topography of the locations where the nexuses were located that anchored the phenomena, but it was little more than a suspicion. When the truck left Emmett’s lab for Cape Canaveral, Emmett studied his monitors, detecting only minute fluctuations. Most significant was a perceptible change in the shape of the opening at the Mills Ranch. Surprisingly, the opening seemed to get bigger. It might have moved only inches, but the darkness that marked the transition to the other time now was not so far under the collapsed wall.

  Emmett had made it clear to Lieutenant Weller that he and his marines had only a short time to find Nick and Elizabeth and the others, and to get them home. Based on what had happened to the moon tyrannosaur, and Emmett’s own modeling, the time differential was fast disappearing, the two time lines becoming synchronous. By moving and eventually destroying the orgonic material, Emmett hoped to seal the nexuses before the time synchronization, fearing what would happen at that event. If Nick and the others were not back before synchronization, they would never get back.

  With surprising speed, the canisters were loaded and the Aurora prepped for takeoff. Towed into position, the Aurora spent no unnecessary time on the ground, where passing satellites or night owl employees, might snap a picture of it. Accelerating like a navy jet launched by a catapult, the Aurora flashed past three cameras and was gone.

  Emmett studied his instruments as the Aurora shot into orbit. There was a clear warming of the Millses’ barn, and a slight increase in oxygen content. The Cretaceous atmosphere was richer in oxygen than the modern air, with 30 percent oxygen, compared to the 20 percent in the modern era. The increasing oxygen suggested the passage had changed in some way, perhaps becoming more permeable. Emmett turned to the camera view and was shocked. The blackness that was deep under the collapsed wall was now closer to the interior of the barn. The blackness had also reshaped to fill the opening at this end. Emmett could only assume the same thing was happening on the other end of the passage.

  “Come on, John, get them out of there,” Emmett said.

  Lost in thought, examining his instruments for even tiny changes in readings, Emmett was startled when an alert buzzer signaled a connection with flight control in Houston.

  “Dr. Puglisi, we have a secure link for you from Commander Watson,” Connie West said.

  West was deputy flight director and liaison between Area 51 and Mission Control Center in Houston.

  “What’s happened?” Emmett asked.

  “The Aurora has a fuel problem,” West said cryptically. “Here is Commander Watson.”

  “Dr. Puglisi?” a voice said through a static mask.

  “Yes, I’m here,” Emmett said. “What’s this about a fuel problem? Is it the Aurora or the booster?”

  “Dr. Puglisi, the problem is that the Aurora reached orbit by using only eleven percent of its onboard fuel,” Commander Watson said.

  Surprised into silence, Emmett’s mind raced with the implications.

  “I repeat,” Commander Watson said, “the Aurora reached orbit with only eleven percent fuel consumption. We are assuming that the cargo is responsible for this effect. Is that a reasonable assumption, or will there be residual effects on our return flight?”

  “Sorry, Commander,” Emmett said. “This is incredible. I would say impossible, but clearly it happened. It’s not instrument error?”

  “No, sir. Our tanks are nearly full.”

  “The effect should be limited to the immediate area around the canisters, so your return flight should not be affected,” Emmett said, making it up on the spot.

  “What about the PAM?” Watson asked. “Can we expect the same fuel consumption economy?” />
  “Yes,” Emmett said, uncertain.

  “Would the effect be specific to the type of fuel?” Watson asked. “The Payload Assist Module uses solid fuel and burns aluminum with ammonium perchlorate as the oxydizer.”

  “Solid or liquid should not matter,” Emmett said, growing in confidence. “The material in the canisters is affecting the space–time continuum in the immediate area.”

  “So we can expect similar fuel consumption?” Commander Watson asked.

  “Yes,” Emmett said. “Is that a problem?”

  “There is no throttle on this type of PAM,” Commander Watson said. “Once we light it up, it’s going to burn through all of its fuel. Given the performance of our engines on the flight up, the PAM will burn ten times longer than planned.”

  “Can you adjust the trajectory to compensate?” Emmett asked, worrying the mission was at risk.

  “Houston is solving that problem,” Commander Watson said. “You should know that the payload is going to get where it’s going a hell of a lot faster than you thought.”

  “That’s not a problem,” Emmett said, doing his own calculations in his head.

  “There is one more thing,” Commander Watson said.

  “Yes, Commander,” Emmett said.

  “Are you sure you want us to complete this mission?” Commander Watson asked.

  Emmett hesitated, thinking it a bizarre question. Then he realized what Commander Watson was getting at. The orgonic material in those capsules was the solution to the biggest barrier to space exploration. The material Emmett was about to send on a journey to the sun made boosting mass into orbit cost effective. Emmett looked back at the camera trained on the Mills Ranch opening, seeing how much it had changed. Weeks had passed since John had gone after Nick, and still not returned. They might never return, and Emmett had given them all the time he dared. If these were links to the Cretaceous–Tertiary extinction event, they had to be closed before the Chicxulub impactor struck.

  “Send it,” Emmett said, even knowing he was about to destroy a technological wonder.

  46

  Panic

  Many studies have suggested that early Mars was covered by large oceans and blanketed by a thick atmosphere rich in carbon dioxide.… Mars today holds vast stores of frozen water, at its poles and even in the ground away from the polar regions. Scientists think there used to be more, in part because of pictures that show what appear to be shorelines, riverbeds, and tremendous gorges carved by flowing water.

  —Robert Roy Britt

  Sixty-five Million Years Ago

  Inhuman Village

  Nick found the village in an uproar. Inhumans hurried to and fro, gathering belongings, tying up bundles, hitching triceratopses to carts.

  “They use the wheel,” Nick said, still amazed at finding a sentient species in the human past.

  “They learned about the wheel from us,” Reverend said.

  “But they adapted it,” Nick said. “They would rule the planet if that asteroid hadn’t wiped them out.”

  “It wasn’t God’s plan,” Reverend said.

  “We need to take them with us,” Elizabeth said. “Back to the future.”

  “That’s not God’s plan,” Reverend said in his preaching voice, his eyes wandering to the frantic preparations.

  “What do you know of God’s plan?” Elizabeth demanded.

  “I know God’s plan for these creatures because he has revealed it to me. They are to be killed by the cleansing fire of that asteroid.”

  “I’ve got a plan,” Carson said. “It’s get the hell out of here.”

  At the sound of falling timbers, Nick and the others turned, seeing the hut that sheltered the opening to Mars come crashing down, ropes cut, fronds removed, poles carried away and tossed unceremoniously aside.

  “We’re going,” Carson said, grabbing Jeanette by the arm and dragging her along.

  Velociraptors jumped to her defense, hissing and snapping at Carson. Even Do, still in Jeanette’s pack, snapped at Carson.

  “Jeez,” Carson said. “Jeanette, call them off.”

  “Re, Me, Fa, So, La, Ti,” Jeanette sang. “It’s okay. He’s not hurting me. Easy, Do. He’s your daddy.”

  “Don’t call me that,” Carson said, stepping away from Jeanette and her velociraptors.

  Inhumans hurried by, barely glancing at the humans, or even the velociraptors that they feared.

  “I’m going, Jeanette,” Carson said. “Are you coming?”

  “Yes,” Jeanette said. “Elizabeth, come with us.”

  “We’re all going, right, Nick?” Elizabeth said, taking Nick by the hand.

  “Yes,” Nick said, glancing at the sky.

  “I must get my people here,” Reverend said, distracted by the activity of the Inhumans.

  “You can see it for yourself,” Nick said, pointing at the sky. “This age is coming to an end.”

  “And a new one is beginning,” Reverend said. “I’m going to bring my people here and to the new land.”

  “There isn’t time, Reverend,” Nick said.

  With the hut removed and the entrance revealed, Inhumans lined up, a large group of armed men at the head. Then, after an unseen signal, the warriors moved through the opening, to the world on the other side.

  “We must stop them,” Reverend said, realizing what the Inhumans were up to. “Mars isn’t for them. It’s for me and my people!”

  “It’s not for anyone,” Nick said, indicating the stream of Inhumans going through the passage. “You know what Mars becomes. The same thing that is going to happen to Earth, happened to Mars but much worse. What strikes Mars is a planetoid the size of Pluto. The planet’s surface is decimated, the atmosphere ripped away, the seas vaporized. Mars won’t be able to support anything more complicated than bacteria.”

  “But when?” Reverend asked, pulling his attention away from the fleeing Inhumans. “You said that the Mars we visited is at least sixty-five million years in the past. When does the planetoid hit? In a year? A hundred years? A million years? Look what humanity accomplished in the few thousand years since their creation, and we did that outside the loving embrace of our Creator. What could we accomplish living in harmony with God? Over a million years? Why, in that much time, we could conquer the universe.”

  “Reverend, Mars is a dead end, for them, and for your people if you take them there.”

  “No, Mars is our future,” Reverend said stubbornly.

  “We’re going!” Carson said emphatically, waving for Jeanette to follow him, but careful not to touch her.

  Velociraptors eyed Carson suspiciously, keeping close to Jeanette.

  “Yes, I must get my people,” Reverend said.

  Having served their purpose, the Inhumans ignored the small group of humans who pushed their way through the throng and past the giant spikes protecting the village. Hurrying down the trail, Reverend stayed with Nick and the others until he could split off toward his compound.

  Moving at nearly a run, they fled down the well-worn trail, occasionally passing groups of Inhumans moving toward the village. Velociraptors orbiting Jeanette, the Inhumans gave the humans a wide berth, ceding their own trail. Carson suddenly pulled his gun, slowing, aiming at a small group of Inhumans coming toward them. Two Inhumans supported a third between them, the middle Inhuman bleeding from a wound in his side. Seeing the humans and their velociraptors, they stiffened, stepping off the trail, the two healthy Inhumans lifting spears with their free hands.

  “Put your gun down,” Nick said as they passed.

  Carson ignored Nick, his gun pointed at the Inhumans until they were past. Shortly, they passed more straggler Inhumans, several injured, Carson as wary of them as they were of the humans.

  “They look like they were in some kind of battle,” Carson said. “And lost.”

  “Oh, I hope not,” Nick said to Reverend. “You don’t think they attacked your people, do you?”

  “That’s why they split the colu
mn,” Carson said.

  “What other people?” Elizabeth asked. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ll explain as we go,” Nick said, urging the others to hurry.

  Moving as fast as they could, they raced down the trail, passing more Inhumans—many of them wounded, all of them wary. The trail narrowed, smaller branches splitting off. Nearing the point where Reverend would turn off for his father’s church compound, they spotted a triceratops coming directly for them. Clearing the trail, they let it pass, the triceratops wary of the velociraptors but keeping to the trail.

  “Nick Paulson, is that you?” Nick heard.

  Behind the triceratops, Nick saw John Roberts and two marines. The marines spread out, slowing, guns on the velociraptors. John broke into a smile as he approached, coming straight toward Nick but wary of the velociraptors. John’s eyes took in Elizabeth, Carson, and then lingered on Jeanette, as men’s eyes always did. Then John saw Reverend. Suddenly, John diverted toward Reverend, his arms going wide.

  “Cubby, is that you?” John asked.

  “John?” Reverend replied, incredulous.

  Then the two men embraced and slapped each other on the back.

  “I thought you were dead,” John said. “How’d you survive that nuclear blast?”

  “What nuclear blast?” Cubby asked. “All I remember was trying to get into Portland but having no luck, and then suddenly I was inside and me and the whole city were here!”

  “I can’t believe you’re alive,” John said.

  “What happened to Ripman?” Reverend asked. “Did he make it?”

  “Yeah, he got me out of the Portland quilt in one piece. After that, he lived with me and my mom for a while, and then he became a hunter and guide,” John said, ending the story of their mutual friend with him alive and well.

  Nick knew John was leaving out part of the story. Ripman was part of the team that John led to the Yucatán to explore a newly discovered pyramid. Through that pyramid, they traveled back in time to the Mayan past. Ripman never returned and was trapped in the past, or some alternative time line, when the time passages were destroyed by a terrorist’s nuclear device. Nick let the two men exchange stories, using the time to catch his breath. As the oldest of the group, Nick was having trouble keeping up with the others, even with an oxygen-rich environment. Elizabeth was hanging back with him out of pity, clearly not as tired as Nick.