***
Chase tossed fitfully on the Danielses’ living room couch, trying to sleep under a light blanket with one arm shielding his eyes from the flood of daylight penetrating the drawn curtains. Having turned in sometime after 2 am, Chase was trying to catch a little more rest, as was Kit in her room upstairs and Dr. Ogilvey in the guest bedroom. They had seen no sign of the tyrannosaurus in the night but the thought of it made sleep hard to come by.
A sudden blast of sound as loud as a train whistle and as deep as a foghorn rattled the house. Chase threw off the blanket, picked up his rifle from the floor, swept his ball cap off the coffee table and put it on. He grabbed some rounds out of the box of 30-06 bullets he had collected from the ground outside the night before. He checked to see that his rifle was loaded and then moved to the doorway that led to the ruined kitchen. As he removed the chair they had chocked under the doorknob, the foghorn tone roared around him again, so intense that dust filtered down from cracks in the pine log ceiling. He listened to it carefully this time. It wasn’t the tyrannosaur’s roar, although it seemed like it must come from a beast that large. It started as a low monotone that carried on for several seconds and then rose in pitch, fluting up through octaves to end in a shrill high note. It reminded Chase of a bull elk’s call, if the elk were scaled up to the size of an elephant. There was something familiar about it. It sounded a lot like the noise made by the walking machine the night before. Hairs stood up on Chase’s neck. Had the machine found them here?
Kit and Dr. Ogilvey came down the stairs and joined him as he paused by the door. “What the devil was that—?” Ogilvey began, but he was drowned out by another blast of the sound.
They had shut the door between the living room and kitchen and propped a chair against it to keep out the cold and God-knew-what-else might come in through the hole the T rex had made. But whatever was making the noise sounded like it was still outside the house. Chase turned the door handle and opened the door a crack, peeking through with Kit and Ogilvey close behind him. The kitchen was empty except for shattered wood and chairs strewn across the floor, but outside by the barn was an enormous animal, the likes of which he had never seen: a duckbilled dinosaur the size of an elephant, though not elephant-shaped. It stood on its hind legs like an immense goose with its body leaning forward, its long reptilian tail stretching out behind, and its front legs dangling but not quite touching the ground.
“Jeez!” Chase muttered. “What is that?”
Ogilvey squeezed past Chase and walked into the middle of the kitchen, apparently unperturbed by any notion the thing might be dangerous. He turned and flashed a long-toothed grin at Kit. “Ih-hee-hee!” he laughed. “A parasaurolophus! That’s what we have here.”
Seeing Chase holding his rifle at the ready, Ogilvey motioned for him to lower it. “No need for that, son. It’s a plant eater. Completely innocuous.”
Chase doubted a beast so huge could be entirely harmless. He slung the rifle across his arm to keep it handy.
Ogilvey beamed. “Look at its coloration, Kit! You’ll never see that in a textbook. A reddish-brown body—what’s the term for that color? Rufous? Yes, that’s it. Rufous. A light buff color on the throat and belly, a broad dark brown stripe running from the side of its neck down the length of its body and along its tail, and its muzzle and bill the same dark umber color. Is it furry, or do my eyes deceive me?”
Chase said, “Doc, it sounds like you’re already composing a scientific research paper on the subject.”
“Oh, indeed I am, son. Just look at those eyes. Bright orange irises set in a dark umber eye-band. Gorgeous!”
Chase noted that those orange eyes were watching Ogilvey cautiously, but not threateningly.
“And that rufous head-crest,” Ogilvey rhapsodized. “Long, curving, tube-shaped, and arching back a good six feet with a flap of skin beneath it patterned in alternating stripes of iridescent blue and brilliant red. Those are the most striking colors I’ve ever seen on a large animal. Stupendous!”
The beast, unperturbed by Ogilvey’s ramblings, filled its lungs in preparation for another rafter-jarring honk. Rearing tall, it emitted the foghorn blast through its nostrils, raising its head high to radiate the sound. Chase, Kit and Ogilvey flinched as the air throbbed around them so powerfully that it hurt their ears. Finishing its call, the creature settled down to all fours and seemed to listen to the sound echoing through the hills. Zippy, who had joined them in the kitchen, let out a pained whine and shook his head, flapping his ears.
The big animal’s call was answered by several smaller honking voices and three creatures that appeared to be its offspring trotted from the pasture to join it. These juveniles were about the size of horses although not horse-shaped. Jogging up single-file in a two-legged trot, they squatted on their haunches near the big animal. Though their bodies were rufous colored like the adult’s, their crests were no more than small bumps at the back of their heads, which lacked the red and blue coloration. Another large parasaurolophus, slightly smaller than the big adult, ambled up and squatted near the young ones.
“That must be the mother,” Ogilvey asserted, “completing the family group. Notice the sexual dimorphism, Kit. Like many female animals her colors are drab like the young ones. Her crest is also smaller than the male’s —and unmarked.”
“What beautiful creatures,” Kit murmured, moving to the splintered opening in the kitchen wall to get a better look.
“Don’t go too far,” Chase cautioned. “We don’t know how these things react to humans.”
“Ih-heeh!” Ogilvey laughed. “I’d wager no one knows that.”
The male parasaurolophus ignored Kit. Rearing up, it let out another loud call, which provoked Zippy to howl in harmony. As the noise echoed away, Kit said, “The machine last night made that noise when it drove off the utahraptors. I wonder why?”
“It’s obvious,” Ogilvey replied. “If you sound like one of these you get a lot of respect. Perhaps it’s a territorial call, warning other creatures to stay away or suffer the consequences.”
“What consequences?” Chase wondered.
Ogilvey thought a moment. “Confrontation? A fight?”
Kit said, “They don’t look like they want to fight. I wonder what they want?”
As if in response, the male stretched up and reached his head into the barn’s open second-story loft door and pulled out a mouthful of hay. The juveniles began a loud chorus of cries that sounded like bawling calves. The father parasaurolophus lowered his mouthful of hay and the young ones began greedily tugging out bunches of it and gobbling it down. The father repeated the process of snatching down hay and passing it to the young and the mother as well, until all of them were happily chewing and gulping. Squatting again, he surveyed the scene like a proud, outsized father goose. He cast an eye toward the kitchen but didn’t seem to regard anyone there as a threat.
Chase said, “They’ll make short work of your hay.”
“That’s all right,” said Kit. “It’s just the tail end of last winter’s supply. We won’t miss it. In fact…” She jumped down from the opening in the kitchen wall to the driveway and walked toward the animals.
“Hey! Come back here,” Chase called in a hiss, thinking she must have gone crazy. He turned to Ogilvey. “Are you sure these things are friendly?”
The professor scratched his beard. “I suppose they might be dangerous if provoked, like any big animal.”
Chase wanted to call another warning but he was afraid what might happen if he startled the beasts. He stayed quiet but kept his rifle ready as she approached the creatures.
The male snuffled nervously and Kit wisely detoured around him in the direction of the main barn door. The young huddled against their mother and chortled anxiously. The male moved between Kit and his family, issuing a rumbling growl.
Chase raised his rifle and aimed at the creature’s flank, certain it was about to charge, but Kit got inside the barn safely and the beast set
tled back on its haunches. A moment later Kit appeared at the hayloft door and called down to the creature.
“Hey there rufous! Come here, boy.” The big animal rose and took a step toward her, cocking its head like a curious bird.
Kit pulled a bale of hay to the loft door and said, “You and your babies can eat all you want.” She shoved the bale over the edge and it broke open upon hitting the ground. The male eyed it carefully, dropped to all fours, sniffed the hay, and then took a nibble. He took a larger bite and the young ones clustered around him clamoring for a handout.
Kit grinned and called down to Chase and Ogilvey, “Aren’t they adorable?” The sound of her voice startled the big animal and it raised its head up to where she stood in the loft doorway. Chase raised his rifle again.
“Easy, Chase,” Kit called, motioning for him to lower the rifle. She stood still in the loft as the male brought its nose up to her pant-leg and drew a long, snuffling breath. Then he raised his head higher until his snout was inches from Kit’s nose. They looked each other in the face until Kit broke into a wide smile and chuckled. The creature relaxed again, lowering its head to continue its feast.
Kit threw out a second bale and then came down from the loft, easing past the creatures and returning to the kitchen with an exultant smile. “I think I just made a new friend.”
“Yes,” Ogilvey agreed. “A very big friend.” He squared his thick glasses on his nose and looked at Chase reproachfully. “I’m surprised at you, Chase, so eager with that rifle. Aren’t you a wildlife reintroduction biologist?”
“Yeah, but Kit might have—”
“But nothing. Here is a lovely family group, freshly reintroduced. You should be as delighted as we are.” He put an arm around Kit and hugged her.
Chase took off his cap and scratched his head. “You’ve got a point, professor. But it’s all just a bit much—invaders from the moon, robot machines, a tyrannosaurus, now this. I guess I’m a little confused.”
Ogilvey shrugged. “Whatever the pteronychuses are up to, their motives can’t be all bad if they’ve brought us such wonderful creatures as these.” He addressed Kit. “Come along dear, I brought some of my reference books. Let’s go look up parasaurolophus. I notice several features that differ from previous scientific reports. The sexual dimorphism of the head-crest is quite pronounced, don’t you think? There’s quite a difference between father, mother and young parasaurolophuses. What a lovely family they make! Don’t you agree?”
Kit’s happy expression faded as he spoke. “They’re one big happy family, aren’t they?” She replied dully and her face grew red.
“Yes,” Ogilvey crooned, oblivious to her sudden pain. “The father simply dotes on his brood, doesn’t he?”
Kit turned and ran through the living room and up the stairs. Ogilvey looked confused. “Have I said something wrong?”
Chase nodded. “Her father’s gone missing, remember? You were gabbing about fathers and families.”
“Yes, of course,” Ogilvey acknowledged. “A word of apology is in order —after I jot a few things in my notebooks.” The paleontologist went inside the living room and turned to the adjacent dining room where his notebooks were scattered on the table. He sat down and picked up a pen, mumbling to himself about hens and chicks and parasaurolophuses. Chase, left in the kitchen with Zippy, wanted to go and comfort Kit. But what could he say that would really help? He had no idea where Will Daniels was. He picked up a chair knocked over by the T rex and sat down with his 30-06 across his lap, keeping an eye on the parasaurolophuses. Zippy came and sat beside him, resting his head on Chase’s knee. He gave the dog a pat on the head and a scratch behind his black-and-white ears.
Dinosaur Wars: Earthfall Page 17