by Alex Scarrow
Broken Claw struggled to make sense of that. Perhaps these things had spot ed them, but for some cunning reason were hiding their reactions? Again, another reason to be wary of them. That and those sticks they carried, those sticks that could easily trap sh from the raging river. And new things. Curved sticks with a taut line of vine stretched from one end to the other. He wondered what these new devices did.
The new creatures stumbled clumsily and noisily past, up the gentle incline of the bank, and disappeared into the dark canopy of the jungle. Broken Claw turned from them to study the others on the far side of the river. They were pul ing on another length of vine and he watched in silent awe as the tree trunk across the water slowly jerked and wobbled and raised inches at a time, reminding him of one of the large plain-dwel ers, raising its head and long neck after drinking from a pool of water.
He understood this thing now. He understood its purpose.
A way across the dangerous water. A way that could be raised and lowered at wil .
He caught sight of yel ow eyes dot ed here and there, the intent gaze of his extended family pack. They too were watching the tree rise, apparently under its own power. That was good. Good that they were seeing for themselves That was good. Good that they were seeing for themselves how wary they must be of these harmless-looking new arrivals.
Broken Claw o ered a soft bark and the yel ow eyes vanished. And the pack, like a ghostly dawn mist dissipating under the warm light of a rising sun, was suddenly gone, as if they’d evaporated into the jungle.
CHAPTER 36
65 mil ion years BC, jungle
It was gone mid-afternoon as they neared the crest of the steep jungle mountain they’d been struggling up since dawn. Through eeting gaps in the foliage canopy, Liam had caught glimpses of an ebony ridge of peaks ahead of them, to the left and right, as far as he could see. He’d considered suggesting they turn left or right to try nding a way round, but that might mean a detour of days. Bet er, he decided, to press on up the sloping jungle hil side and tackle the ridge. At least it would be al downhil on the far side.
Up ahead, now, the jungle was fast thinning, giving way to smal er withered trees trying to nd a foothold on a ground of shale and gravel dot ed with coarse tufts of grass. Just ahead of him Becks emerged into sunlight. He noticed that her back, taut with muscle, was bone dry. Don’t these clones ever sweat? Liam was drenched. Every inch of his skin was slick with perspiration, the salt running down from his fringe stinging his eyes. Behind him he could hear Franklyn and Whitmore talking. They hadn’t stopped since they’d set out from the camp, a relentless jabbering to and fro on al things prehistoric. It was certainly reassuring to know their group prehistoric. It was certainly reassuring to know their group had what sounded like a fair bit of expertise on this alien environment, but Liam would happily have paid a ship steward’s monthly wage for them to just shut up for ve minutes.
Whitmore dabbed at his damp forehead. ‘But I want to know why we haven’t seen any yet. This Mesozoic era was very favourable to the larger species. I mean –’
‘No need to patronize me, Mr Whitmore,’ Franklyn cut in. ‘I know al that. I know this was the most densely populated era, that the Cretaceous was real y the time of the dinosaurs. Much more so than the Jurassic era.’
Whitmore nodded. ‘Mind you, it wouldn’t have sounded quite so snappy if they’d cal ed that lm Cretaceous Park, would it?’
‘At least it would have been more accurate,’ said Franklyn. ‘But it’s so strange, don’t you think? I mean, Dinosaur Val ey State Park isn’t so far away … and the Paluxy riverbed there is covered in fossils from al types of species. How come this jungle val ey’s, like, deserted?’
Franklyn’s voice was laden with disappointment. ‘I mean, here we are … the perfect time, in fact, to see al the classic species: T-rex, ankylosaurus, stegosaurus, triceratops, and yet we’ve seen nothing.’
‘It could be the jungle itself is unfavourable terrain for the larger animals.’
‘That’s not true,’ replied Franklyn. ‘It’s nutrient heaven for the herbivores. And where there are herbivores you should also nd carnivores. This jungle should be ful of should also nd carnivores. This jungle should be ful of them.’
‘Wel ,’ said Whitmore, looking up the slope at the thinning vegetation and craggy peak ahead of them, ‘no more jungle now.’
They and the rest of the party fol owed Liam and Becks out of the lush green into a mostly grey-brown world of slate and shingle. Up ahead the slope rose to a fractured cli face of sharp slate angles. He could see that the robogirl was already climbing up it, making swift progress from one treacherous handhold to the next. He watched her pul ing herself up the sheer cli face without any apparent di culty.
Robo-girl. Now they al knew she was some kind of a robot, and after seeing her nearly skewer Laura like one of those mud sh – and, Lord knows, if Liam hadn’t intervened, she would have kil ed them al , one after the other – there was no way anyone was going to entirely trust her.
Whitmore’s feet slid on the shale as he scrambled awkwardly up the last fty yards to the base of the cli to join Liam.
‘We … we’re …’ Whitmore gasped like an asthmatic as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He looked up at the sheer rock face. ‘We’re climbing that?’
‘Yup,’ said Liam.
‘I … I’m …’ He was stil heaving to catch some air. ‘I’m not sure I’l be able to.’
Liam shook his head as he peeled the rucksack o his Liam shook his head as he peeled the rucksack o his back. ‘Not a lot of choice, Mr Whitmore. It’s that direction we need to go.’
He swal owed anxiously. ‘Uh … I’m real y not so great with heights.’
‘Don’t worry about that, Mr Whitmore. She can pul you up if you’d like.’
Franklyn pu ed and wheezed up the last few yards, kicking loose shale beneath his trainers. ‘That goes for me too. I’m exhausted.’
Liam looked up the rock face and saw Becks was already at the top and bracing her legs against an outcrop for balance. She pul ed the heavy coils of vine rope o her shoulder, secured one end round her waist and tossed the rest down. It clat ered on to the shale with several dozen yards in length to spare.
Liam looked at them both and down at the others making their way up the last few dozen yards of the mountainside. Beyond them he could see the green carpet of the jungle rol ing al the way down the steep peak they’d been ascending to the deep val ey below. He thought he could just make out the hairline silver glint of the river snaking through the lush emerald carpet, and there it was … a smal oval of lighter green no bigger than his ngernail: their clearing.
‘I am ready to proceed,’ Becks cal ed down.
They al studied the cli face unhappily: sixty-foot high, al razor-sharp edges and craggy outcrops that promised to impale or slice anyone unfortunate enough to take a impale or slice anyone unfortunate enough to take a tumble.
‘Don’t al be chickens,’ said Becks.
Liam glanced up at her and saw she was smiling. Did she just try to be funny?
‘Cluck, cluck,’ she added in her monotone voice. Liam shook his head, put his hands on his hips and smiled. ‘So, I see you’ve found a sense of humour, Becks!’
‘I have been observing and learning humorous dialogue exchanges, Liam. I am now capable of delivering basic humorous responses.’
‘Wel done!’ he shouted back.
‘You are al lit le chickens. Cluck, cluck, cluck,’ she said again with a hint of pride in her dry voice. Not exactly hilarious, Liam decided, as he looked around at the concerned expressions on the others. But at least her AI was having a go at being more human.
‘Is she al right?’ asked Juan.
Liam shrugged. ‘It’s her at empt at a joke. Don’t worry. She’s ne.’ He looked up at her. ‘Becks! Maybe we should save the joking around for later? Al right? You’re scaring the kids.’
Her face straightened. ‘A rmative.’
&nbs
p; ‘OK, then.’ He turned back to the others. ‘Who’s rst?’
There wasn’t exactly a rush.
Liam was the last one up.
As Becks hefted him up on to the ridge and helped him to his feet, he could see she looked fatigued. In fact, he to his feet, he could see she looked fatigued. In fact, he realized, it was the rst time he’d ever seen her looking like that. Genuinely spent. ‘You OK, Becks?’
‘Recommendation: I should now consume protein and then rest for several hours,’ she said. Her grey eyes met his for a moment and he wondered if there was a hint of gratitude in her expression, gratitude that he’d bothered to ask if she was OK.
‘OK, you do that,’ he said, slapping her shoulder. ‘We could al probably do with a rest. Maybe we should set up camp here for tonight?’
She considered that for a moment, panning her eyes around the immediate surroundings. ‘This is an acceptable location.’
‘Right. I’l tel the others.’ He wandered across the top of the peak towards the rest of them. They were clustered together and staring out over the sloping ridge on the far side of the peak. From where he stood, he could see nothing but a rich blue sky and a far-o top-heavy bank of cloud hanging above a at horizon like a giant oating anvil.
‘What is it? Can you see something?’ He clat ered over, kicking stones and raising dust until he was standing right beside them. ‘Oh … my,’ his voice ut ered softly.
‘There’s al the dinosaurs you’ve ever wanted to see, kid,’ said Whitmore to Franklyn.
The peak sloped down gently, grey shale gradual y giving way in patches to an enormous plain of verdant grassland dot ed with islands of jungle – tal straight grassland dot ed with islands of jungle – tal straight deciduous canopy trees draped with the vines they’d come to rely on. Around the patches of jungle, herds of huge beasts Liam couldn’t begin to name grazed lazily in the late-afternoon sun. Between the slowly meandering groups of giants, smal er packs of eet-footed beasts ocked and weaved in an endless zig-zagging race.
‘My God,’ whispered Kel y. ‘This is real y … quite …
incredible.’
Whitmore and Franklyn were grinning like a pair of children in a toy store.
Beyond the sweeping plain, Liam noticed the at horizon changed from a drab olive colour to a rich turquoise.
Laura was frowning at that, confused. ‘Is that an ocean over there? I don’t recal Texas having a freakin’ ocean in the middle of it.’
Franklyn nodded. ‘Sixty-ve mil ion years ago there was,’ he said, adopting the learned air of a col ege principal. ‘An inland ocean that ran north–south up the middle of America, cut ing it in two. In fact, Laura, you probably wouldn’t recognize Earth if you were looking at it from orbit right now.’
Liam watched in silence for a good minute, stunned, like everyone else, into stil ness and quiet as he gazed out on a scene that no human before had ever witnessed, nor should ever witness again. A moment of incalculable privilege, uniqueness. Once upon a time – and it felt like another lifetime now – he’d been standing in the creaking another lifetime now – he’d been standing in the creaking bowels of a dying ship, waist deep in ice-cold water, facing certain death and crying like a smal child. And there was Foster, holding his hand out to him ut ering a promise that if he joined him there were going to be things he’d see, wonderful things. Incredible things.
‘Wel , this is certainly one of them,’ Liam whispered to himself.
‘What’s that?’ said Kel y.
Liam roused himself and grinned. ‘Nothing, I just said
… so, this is where al you big fel as have been hiding.’
A good-natured ripple of laughter spread among them.
‘We’re camping up here tonight,’ he announced, studying the distant strip of ocean blue on the horizon.
‘And tomorrow we’l be at the seaside, so we wil .’
CHAPTER 37
65 mil ion years BC, jungle
Liam savoured the warmth of the re on his face and hands. It had turned out to be surprisingly cool up here on the peak once the sun had gone down, and his sweat-damp clothes had begun to feel uncomfortably chil y against his skin.
In the sky above the dark plain spread out before them, the last stain of day spread a warm, rich, amber light along the at horizon and the night was beginning to l with the distant haunting chorus of creatures cal ing to each other across miles of open plain.
He heard the scu of boots and skit ering shale approaching out of the dark. Becks appeared and sat down heavily next to him. ‘Hel o, Liam.’
‘Hel o,’ he replied, chewing on the rubbery corner of his reheated gril ed mud sh. He looked at her eyes, glistening as they re ected the camp re in front of them. He wondered what went on behind them when she wasn’t busy assessing mission priorities or threat factors. He wondered if that tiny organic brain linked to her computer could appreciate how beautiful that amber sky was … or enjoy the pleasing sensation of warmth from the re.
‘Your AI’s done a bit of growing again, hasn’t it?’ he
‘Your AI’s done a bit of growing again, hasn’t it?’ he said presently. ‘Your cluck, cluck thing earlier was … wel , about as funny as one of my old Auntie Noreen’s jokes, but
… the thing is it sounded almost human.’
‘Thank you.’ She nodded. ‘It has been useful to me observing these younger humans. Their social interactions are more heavily nuanced by emotional indicators and less restricted by expected convention.’
His face creased as he digested that. ‘You mean they’re more likely to blurt out whatever they’re thinking than adults?’
‘A rmative.’
‘Wel now,’ he said, smiling, ‘that’s probably true.’
Laura Whitely, sit ing opposite, caught what they were saying over the babble of dinosaur talk going on between Kel y, Whitmore and Franklyn. ‘I don’t blurt,’ she said.
‘Children do that.’
Becks’s gaze shifted to her. ‘Are you not a child?’
She gave Liam an is she for real? look, one eyebrow cocked with incredulity. ‘Excuse me? I’m fteen. I’m not a child. I’m a teenager.’
‘You stil have four years of physical and mental growth to undergo before you are technical y an adult human being,’ said Becks. ‘Optimum mental and physical functionality is obtained at nineteen years of age. This makes you stil a child.’
‘Yeah? And what about you? What are you, then?’
Becks’s jaw dropped open, a facial expression Liam had not seen her pul before. Nor an expression he could recal not seen her pul before. Nor an expression he could recal Bob ever pul ing either, for that mat er. Becks’s eyes gazed at the re for a long, long time, the lids ut ering slightly every now and then.
She’s real y giving that some serious thought.
‘I wil …’ she began after a while. ‘I wil never be a complete human being.’
Laura’s face softened ever so slightly. A second ago she’d looked like she wanted to square up to Becks, now she almost looked sorry for her. ‘You sound sad about that.’
‘Sad?’ Becks considered that word. ‘Sad,’ she said again quietly. ‘My developmental AI routines al ow me to learn and replicate human behaviour pat erns. But I am unable to directly experience emotions. This would a ect my performance as a support unit.’
‘So, let me get this straight,’ said Laura, shu ing round the re, closer to them so she wasn’t being drowned out by Franklyn’s droning voice. ‘You’re esh and blood, just like a human being, but your head is, like, al robot?’
‘My body is a genetical y enhanced female human body. I have multiple-threaded muscle tissue capable of a ve hundred and seventy-six per cent performance response.’
Laura looked at Liam. ‘That means she’s … what? Like, six times stronger than she should be?’
Liam nodded. ‘Aye, that sounds about right.’
‘I also have a high-density calcium-based support chassis
–’ ‘Strong bones,’ said Liam.
Laura nodded. It looked like she’d gured that out for Laura nodded. It looked like she’d gured that out for herself.
‘I also have a rapid-reaction, high white-cel -count uid repair system.’ Becks turned to Laura. ‘My blood clots quickly.’
‘Right.’
‘Al of this gene technology wil be developed by W. G. Systems in the year 2043 for military applications: genetical y engineered combat units.’
‘Wow,’ ut ered Laura. ‘You mean like super soldiers.’
‘Correct. I was designed for war. Speci cal y subterfuge and covert operations.’
Liam smiled. ‘But don’t let that put you o her – she’s a sweetie real y.’
Becks looked at him curiously. ‘Sweetie?’
Liam put an arm round her shoulders and hugged her clumsily. ‘We go back a bit, Becks and me. Would you believe it, she used to be a man, so she did? Big chap, just like some muscle-man cal ed Schwarzenho er or something. Apparently he becomes a president of yours sometime.’
‘Oh my God.’ Laura made a face. ‘You don’t mean Arnold Schwarzenegger?’
‘That’s the fel a. Anyway, Becks was cal ed Bob back then. But … wel , you had a bit of a scrap, didn’t you? And
–’ ‘Caution,’ said Becks. ‘It is inadvisable to reveal details of previous missions.’
Liam hushed. Perhaps they’d revealed more than they Liam hushed. Perhaps they’d revealed more than they ought. ‘Yes, you’re right. Sorry, Laura.’ Liam decided to change the subject. ‘Becks, we should consider what message we want to leave in the ground, you know?’
Becks nodded. ‘A rmative. This is important.’