A Dream Deferred
“Good morning, Dr. Grant,” greeted John Hilman, a light haired man of thirty. A long overcoat that nearly touched the ground concealed his shadowy figure; his face was shrouded in the shadow of a hat. Removing his right hand from his pocket, he reached out to greet Alan.
“Morning Chancellor. I don’t think I’ll ever get accustomed to this weather. Too use to the warmth of Montana,” he jested, reaching out to meet the Chancellor’s hand.
Hillman had approached Alan four years earlier on the helicopter back from Isla Sorna.
“Dr. Grant! We finally meet in person.” he recalled John saying.
“Yes. And you are?”
“John Hilman, Chancellor for the United States of America. I represent home, Dr. Grant. Our office got a call from a friend of yours, Dr. Sattler about 5 hours ago. She alerted us to your situation here. Threw the office into an uproar!”
“She has a way of doing that,” Alan laughed awkwardly.
“Well, it’s good to see you’re in good spirits. How are they?” he asked, nodding towards the Kirby’s.
“Alive, which is more than I can say for the others-“
”Others?”
“There were several, yes,” Grant answered painfully.
“You realize this is a serious violation of the agreements established between the U.S. and the Costa Rican governments? I’ts going to be a while before this whole matter is resolved. If you work with us, we’ll do our best to avoid any serious penalization.”
Hilman easily cleaned up the matter. The fault lay scapegoat to the Costa Rican government which knew of the plane’s approach and did not take proper procedures to protect the islands. During the ordeal, a mutual respect grew between Grant and Hilman and eventually, the two having kept in touch, become close friends.
By now, Hilman and Grant were in a limousine heading towards the UN building.
“Won’t you have a drink?” Hilman asked, gesturing to the mini-bar.
“Not this early, John,” Grant said, holding up his hand.
“Well Alan, let’s get down to business.” Alan nodded in agreement.
“As you already know, the UN is expecting you to give a speech on the preservation of the InGen islands. Afterwards, the floor will be open to questions: be careful. You thought they could twist words on Matlock, wait until you see these guys.”
Alan smirked lightly.
“I understand, John. What I’m not sure about is why the islands should be preserved. There nothing but monsters: Gorgo and Godzilla. I’ve had my run-ins with them twice now–“
”And survived! You see Alan, that’s the point. Remember when we first rescued you and the group. Several of those, uh, Terro-terrosauruses–“
”Pteronodons.”
“Yes, those. You remember what I had asked you? I asked if we should shoot them down-if they posed a serious threat to anyone. You said they were priceless creatures: that it ought to be a crime to kill such an animal. And I’m sure by now you realize that the only way your field of study can make any more progress is if they resurrected the animals: they did, and they are living, breathing, breeding fossil specimens on those islands.”
Alan looked down towards his feet, and, taking off his hat, proceeded to play with its rim. A moment passed and then leaning back, Grant shut his eyes and exhale: Hilman was right.
“You alright Alan?” Hilman asked, leaning forward.
“I’ll take that drink now.”
