The Evolution of Claire

by Tess Sharpe

  “Can we go down there?” Art asks. I can almost feel him vibrating with excitement next to me.

  Beverly shakes her head. “We’ll be observing from up there.” She turns and points to a vista overlooking the sprawling valley below. There’s a flat pad, dotted with flags to outline whatever they’re planning on building up there—maybe an observation deck, or a place to launch the Gyrospheres?

  Beverly leads us briskly up to the overlook, and my thighs protest at the steep incline in the muggy heat. Ronnie takes the hill like it’s nothing, and I remember at breakfast this morning she said she’d gotten up early to work out in the gym. I so do not have that discipline, even though I really loved the weight-lifting class I took last semester.

  We make it to the top, and the view of the valley spread out beneath us is stunning. There are a lot more trees beyond the particular set of hills, and when I step up on one of the rocks with the binoculars Beverly and Jessica hand out, I can see a large body of water beyond the trees. Suddenly, all I want in the world is to see a dinosaur playing in the water. When I was little, one of my books about dinosaurs had a drawing of herbivores gathered around a watering hole, and I always loved the idea of them all hanging out together, splashing.

  I turn my attention back to the immediate action. The truck parked below is a flatbed with an immense steel container. From this vantage point, we can see it has holes punched in the top.

  The cables securing the container to the flatbed tremble as more lowing fills the air. It’s unlike any sound I’ve ever heard, but I can tell one thing: she’s scared. It makes my stomach tight. I’d be scared too. Herded into a truck, moved in the dark, alone, not knowing what happens next, all these strange smells and sounds.

  But soon she’ll be free. With her own kind for the first time, free to explore the hills and lakes, where she belongs.

  Back home.

  “I think we’re ready!” Mr. Masrani says, walking up to join us at the vista point. “Keep your eyes on Bertie, everyone.” He points to her, and she strides up to the edge of the fence, her hands fitted around her mouth. She takes a deep breath and lets out a deep lowing sound just like the one coming from the truck—she’s making dinosaur calls, like some people make bird calls.

  “She’s…she’s calling them,” Art whispers as his eyes scan the horizon.

  Bertie steps back, gesturing to the trainers who’ve situated themselves on either side of the container. The section of the fence with an electrified gate swings open, and the truck backs up into the space. The trainers on the truck jump down to set up the ramp, and Bertie takes their place next to the container. She’s standing near the container, talking—to the Triceratops inside.

  I’m so focused on Bertie that I don’t see until Tanya jabs me in the shoulder. “Claire, look!”

  I raise my binoculars to look where she’s pointing, right where the tree line thickens along the edge of the valley. Three Triceratops, peeking out through the trees, answering Bertie’s call.

  They’re breathtaking. Earth-shattering. Life-changing.

  And they’re enormous. Bigger than I even imagined, even though…I knew. I’ve seen the fossils and the reconstructed skeletons and all the documentaries.

  Intellectually, I knew.

  But emotionally? I had no idea. Nothing can compare to seeing them, right then, right there, in the flesh, their strange, ancient voices carried on the wind. Tears prick at my eyes, to my embarrassment. Normally, I’d be mortified, but there are dinosaurs creeping out of the trees and into full view, so at this moment, I do not care about tears or shame or anything else.

  My eyes trace over their bumpy gray hides, the famed frill surrounding their massive heads, the curve of their horns—what must they feel like? Smooth? Rough?—and the slow, almost sleepy way they move, lumbering, curious, but cautious as they spot the humans at the edge of the fence.

  Do they recognize the trainers? Do they have favorites? Can you even imagine being a dinosaur’s favorite? Obviously, you don’t want them to like you too much because that might lead to being squashed affectionately, but to work with them, to form a real bond with them…that must be everything.

  I glance to my right, and I realize Art’s eyes are bright, and Tanya’s mascara is streaked down her face as she sniffles. Justin just looks stunned, and for once, Eric’s not peering through the camera lens, but looking right at them. Ronnie’s stock-still, like she’s frozen, not out of fear, but wonder.

  So it’s not only me, then. I feel relieved.

  The three Triceratops stop their journey and come to rest in what is the hollow of the valley, the low point that’s protected by sloping hills on three sides, leaving them a view of the gate where the trainers have finished setting up the ramp. They’re just watching now, waiting. Like we are.

  “What do you think?” Masrani asks, and I glance up at him, realizing he’s looking at us the way we’re looking at the dinosaurs. Like we’re the fascinating ones.

  “It’s…it’s…” Justin just shakes his head, like he can’t quite form words.

  The light in Mr. Masrani’s eyes deepens. This is where he gets his joy, I realize as I turn back to the grasslands. This place, it’s as much of a haven for him as it is for the dinosaurs. And being able to share your greatest joy with people who appreciate it…that’s a rare gift, isn’t it?

  “It looks like it’s Curie, Johnson, and Hypatia who have come to greet our newest addition,” Mr. Masrani says, turning his attention back to the valley.

  “Like Marie Curie and Katherine Johnson?” I ask without thinking. I can barely tear my eyes away from the dinosaurs. How does Masrani tell them apart? Aside from whatever trackers they’re wearing, they must have subtle markings or behaviors.

  “Good catch, Claire,” Mr. Masrani says. “The trainers get creative with naming. And competitive!” He chuckles. “I once tried to suggest a theme for the Ankylosauruses, and they absolutely tore me apart!”

  “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think naming the Ankylosauruses after the highest mountains in the world was exactly what they were going for,” Beverly says with a smile. “Didn’t they end up naming all of them after famous women warriors?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Masrani sighs. “Better than my idea by far, I know. But I would love to name a dinosaur Everest. It was my first big climb. I remember it like it was yesterday.”

  “Maybe one of the flying dinosaurs,” Art suggests. “It’d be fitting.”

  Mr. Masrani nods approvingly. “I like the way you think,” he says. The comm in his hand crackles, and we hear Bertie’s voice say, “We’re ready to release her, boss. With your go-ahead.”

  Mr. Masrani looks around at all of us. “Ready?” he asks, grinning like a kid in a candy store.

  We nod.

  “You’re good to go, Bertie. Let’s introduce Lovelace to her new home and family,” Mr. Masrani says.

  The metallic scrape of a chain being drawn up fills my ears, followed by the rattle of the container door opening, and then something different: not lowing, no, it’s stomping. The sound thunders through my head as I focus the binoculars on the grass in front of the container, and the Triceratops—Lovelace, Masrani called her—practically bounds out of the container like a restless dog who’s been riding in a car too long.

  Laughter ripples through our group as Lovelace gives a full body shake, her frill rippling as she wiggles her butt a few times extra for good measure. Her tail slashes back and forth through the grass as she looks around. Then she goes still—she must have caught sight of the three older dinosaurs waiting for her. For a second, she seems to shrink, and Tanya says, “Aw, look, she’s shy!” as Lovelace looks back at the container—and the trainers, who are backing out through the gate and swinging it shut. Only Bertie remains inside the fenced area, and my stomach tightens, because she doesn’t look nervous or intimidated
at all, even though she’s right out there in the open with them. She’s probably the bravest person I’ve ever met.

  I focus my binoculars on Bertie. She looks so small near Lovelace. She’s saying something to her, a wide, encouraging smile on her face. She gestures toward the valley, saying something again, and Lovelace looks back at the other dinosaurs. The one I think is Hypatia seems more concerned with the tree branch she’s chomping on than the new dinosaur in her presence—maybe she’s the oldest and has seen it all?—but Curie and Johnson are alert, watching Lovelace with interest.

  “Look how stubby her horns are compared to the others,” Art points out. “The theory’s always been that their horns grow and might even curve with age. Now we’ll be able to find out if it’s true.”

  “So she’s a teenager?” Tanya asks.

  “Or the dinosaur equivalent,” Art replies.

  “It’s like she’s the new kid in school!” Tanya says, and Art laughs at her comparison. “I hope she finds a best friend.”

  “And a dinosaur girlfriend,” Ronnie adds as Tanya grins.

  “Maybe she’ll meet a sweet Ankylosaurus to go to the dance with,” Art says.

  “Now, that would be something to see,” Justin laughs. “A dinosaur prom.” He shoots me a smile that makes me bite my lip, my stomach doing that twisty, warm thing.

  “Imagine how big the queen’s crown would need to be,” Ronnie says, and someone snorts behind me, and I don’t even have to turn around to know it’s Wyatt. I just roll my eyes. That guy doesn’t know how to have any fun.

  “Look, she’s going for it!” Art calls out, and we all snap our binoculars back to the valley.

  He’s right. Bertie’s pep talk obviously did the trick, because Lovelace is moving forward, across the sloping meadow toward Curie, Johnson, and Hypatia, who’s finally abandoned her tree snack in favor of watching their new addition.

  The trainer slips out of the enclosure and rejoins her team on the other side to watch all their hard work in action.

  Lovelace breaks into a run, and a new, excited kind of lowing fills the valley. I gasp as Curie breaks free from her little trio and rambles up to meet the younger dinosaur with her own noisy greeting. The two rub frills together, Curie’s eyes closing in joy as Lovelace continues with the cow noises, like it’s been forever since they talked.

  “Oh my gosh,” I hear Ronnie say, and then I see them too—the rest of the herd, emerging from the trees. A dozen Triceratops, some so big they must top out at twenty-five thousand pounds. They trek across the grass, surrounding Lovelace and Curie, who are still tangled together like old friends. Their greetings and stomping fill the air, and chills ripple through me as I watch them welcome their sister home.

  They practically have to drag all of us away from the valley, even after the herd disappears into the trees, seeking shade from the sun beating down as it hits noon.

  “Could we stay just a little longer?” Eric suggests. “The footage I’m getting is amazing. When they rubbed frills…I got it all!”

  “I promise, you’ll all get more time with the animals later this week,” Jessica assures us as Mr. Masrani and Beverly lead our group back to the jeeps. “Including some Gyrosphere time!”

  “Away from Pearl, the Gyrosphere-happy Brachiosaurus, I hope,” I whisper under my breath.

  “There’s a Gyrosphere-happy Brachiosaurus?” Justin asks, catching up with me.

  “Apparently, she thinks they’re toys,” I say, and it makes him laugh, that real, full-bodied kind of laugh that I shouldn’t feel proud for causing, but I do, just a little.

  “I wonder what the trainers are doing to distract her,” he says. “Mr. Masrani said the Gyrospheres have all sorts of tech to keep you upright at all times, but wouldn’t a few good swats from a Brachiosaurus make guests start barfing all over?”

  “Maybe they’ll distract her with some different toys,” I say as Jessica waves us into one of the jeeps. To my displeasure, I see that Wyatt’s already sitting in it. I hesitate because I don’t want to sit next to him, and Justin says, “Here, I can sit in the middle, Claire,” all smoothly, like he’s read my mind.

  It’s such a little gesture, but the fact that he even noticed makes my throat tighten as he shoots me a reassuring smile.

  “So…toys for the dinosaurs,” he begins, ignoring Wyatt completely as our driver—not Bertie, but one of her teammates—starts the jeep. Luckily, Wyatt falls into conversation with the other intern in the backseat and ignores us.

  “What do you think?” Justin goes on. “Possible?”

  “That’d need to be some really durable material to make dinosaur toys,” I say. “But it’s so neat that they play. I feel stupid, but I never really thought about them being so social and frisky before Bertie mentioned it to us on the drive. We always think of them as fearsome, don’t we? Monumental and dangerous and scary, never playful.”

  “Well, young dinosaurs aren’t exactly something we’ve had access to,” Justin points out. “If I were in charge of the really little ones, I’d put up an online feed of them, twenty-four seven. Like some animal shelters do with their litters of kittens or puppies, you know? Think of all the free advertising.”

  The idea’s so cute, I almost can’t stand it. An online baby dinosaur feed? Someone sign me up.

  “That would be adorable,” I say. “You should suggest that to Mr. Masrani. And I mean that. Not just because I selfishly want that in my life.”

  “You’re totally transparent, Dearing,” he drawls sarcastically, making me smile even wider.

  “Wasn’t it amazing today?” I ask, unable to keep my voice from dropping to a hush, like the experience was sacred or something.

  “I think I made myself look like an idiot in front of Masrani,” Justin says, shaking his head. “Hopefully the excuse of being swept up in the whole moment will work.”

  “You did not make yourself look like an idiot,” I assure him, because he’s furrowing his brow. “Mr. Masrani seems pretty delighted at how into this all of us are. He’s not going to fault you for being kind of speechless after seeing a herd of Triceratops for the first time! I felt like I wanted to cry…it was so much like a dream.”

  I can practically feel Wyatt rolling his eyes next to us. I try not to let the flash of annoyance overtake me. I refuse to let him ruin my day, especially this day.

  Instead of going back to the hotel, we drive across the water that surrounds the resort area of the park and head onto Main Street. At least, that’s what the sign we pass says: MAIN STREET UNDER CONSTRUCTION.

  The contrast between the half-built storefronts and the wild jungle and mountains beyond should be startling. It should clash, but it doesn’t. Not here, in this place that is just as much about the future as it is about the past. Just as much about science as it is about nature. Isla Nublar is a place of opposites, really. It’s home to humans and dinosaurs. Carnivores and herbivores. Predator and prey. They’ll live alongside each other—maybe not always aware of each other in their separate habitats, so it won’t be exactly like when they ruled the land—but they will coexist. Thrive. And we will learn. About them. From them.

  The jeep slows down to let three construction workers in helmets cross the street in front of us. The street stretches across the inlet’s entire shoreline, which separates Main Street from the resort area of the island.

  There’s a bustle of activity on Main Street, silver-helmeted men and women working on buildings, installing streetlights, and hanging signs.

  “Starbucks really is everywhere,” I say, pointing at the coffee-shop-to-be that we pass.

  “Never deny people their coffee,” Justin says. “That’s just Business 101.”

  We pull up in front of the building I spotted from my balcony this morning. Not the command center, but the one that almost resembled a volcano. As we get out, I see the
sign that says SAMSUNG INNOVATION CENTER.

  “Seriously? Wow,” I say.

  “Too far for you?” Justin asks.

  “I mean, come on. They couldn’t name it after Dr. Hammond? They had to go with corporate sponsorship?”

  “I bet Samsung’s funding a lot of great programs for their partnership,” he says. “That’s what’s important, right?”

  “Well, now I feel like a sad sack who doesn’t like education,” I say, making him laugh.

  “You’re just an idealist,” he says, and I smile. I like that he gets it.

  “Lunch is inside today,” our driver says. “Just go straight in.”

  “Thanks,” Justin and I say as we get out. Tanya and Eric are waiting for us at the bottom of the steps.

  “Art and Ronnie already went in,” Tanya says. “Did you see this building? It’s wild. I hope it glows red at night.”

  “Maybe you can suggest it,” her brother says. “Check it out.” He nudges her, and she bends down to look at his camera’s screen. “Oh wow,” she says. “Look, he slow-moed Lovelace’s gallop toward the herd.”

  We gather around to watch, Justin’s hand brushing against mine as we bend down to look. He doesn’t seem to notice—maybe I’m just reading too much into it. I focus instead on Eric’s footage and Lovelace’s joyful romp with her new family.

  “You’ve got a really good eye, Eric,” Justin says after the footage ends and we head up the steps of the educational center.

  “Thanks,” Eric says. “I love capturing the moment…and moments like these—well, this is the stuff film was made for.” We all nod in agreement.

  We step inside. It’s quiet; no one’s around. The room holds a lot of large objects draped with dropcloths, what looks like a help desk in the back, a console to my right, and several big screens on the wall, but nothing else. It seems like they’re getting ready to paint everything—canvas sheets everywhere.

  I frown. “Hello?” I call, walking forward, Justin right behind me.