(Part 2)
Alan had a flash back: almost de-ja-vugh. “–I have a jet standing by at–”
The three of them walked the stairs to his room in the back of the plane. It was obvious Hammond was one for doing everything in style. One of the nurses tried to have him sit in a wheelchair but he rejected it, instead, hobbling to his room.
On his desk sat three lap tops. Hammond, exhausted by the journey sat down upon his bead, pointing over to them and motioning Alan to bring them one to him.
“You see Alan. This, is all that’s left of Jurassic Park,” Hammond sputtered out, opening the lap top. On the screen, a map of an island shone brightly with red dots on it.
“This is my world. These are my creations. But like me, they are dying.”
Silence filled the room. A cold chill could be felt uniformly through the three of them.
Hammond coughed, setting the lap top onto the bed. He grabbed a cup of water from his night table and drank a little from it, spilling some onto himself.
“They’re dying?” Billy asked, leaning in closer.
“It’s the only possible explanation! You see, over the past year and a half, the islands dinosaur population has slowly dropped. Already, one species is gone: Carnotaur. See!” he said pointing to it’s name flashing red with a zero next to it.
“Gone! It has again returned to the text books. Never to be studied or seen again. The other dinosaurs are dropping in number as well.
“Now, some species are remaining in there. They are the stronger ones: Brachiosaurus, Diplodocus, mainly the large and the extremely small like the Compy’s.”
Alan stood soaking it all in. If he was right, the island could go completely desolate within a years time on its own. Extinction wasn’t always something attributed just to catastrophic problems after all. Sometimes, animal species just slowly die out it looked like, though it didn’t entirely make sense. How did they live this long?
“These are heat–heat satellite photos--” Alan asked.
“Updated every minute” Hammond responded, nodding widely.
“You see Alan. They are dying out–again. You must find out what is causing this--driving them to extinction. The idea that the people of world will never know the full extent of the beauty and grander of the animals-“ Hammond said, trailing off and letting his gaze fall from Alan’s eyes to the screen.
The pain was almost unbearable to watch. Like a child seeing his dog dying before him.
“What are these dots?” Billy asked, looking at the computer screen.
“The green ones?” Hammond asked back.
“Yea? What’s that mean?”
“It means the satellite is picking up a heat signature but can’t decipher what it is. You can see one every once in a while. It usually means an animal has been injured or hurt, or that it’s battling with another dinosaur and the computer can’t pull the two apart and get’s confused. Sometimes, as the dinosaurs die or sleep, or sunbathe the heat signatures are muffled up.It's been happening more and more lately and proves they are dying even faster now. More than ever!”
“Aren’t there other islands in the area,” Alan thought aloud.
“Could they possibly have migrated to them?”
Hammond laughed.
“Always the scientist Alan. That’s what I like about you dear boy.”
Hammond’s eyes shifted over to a desk which held two other lap tops. He pointed at one, then the other.
“That one is Isla Matanceros and Isla Muerta. The other is Isla Tecano and Isla Pena. Dreadful names. We’ve been monitoring them too. Originally that was the problem–not enough coverage–but we’re past that now. The charts now factor in those animals too but we’re still losing them! Please. Alan.,” Hammond paused, putting his hands on Alan’s shoulders, “You have to do some-“
“Mr. Hammond,” Alan interjected, “I cannot promise you anything. Except that I will do what is in the best interest of the everyone. There are places in the world where children are dying–where people are dying, and to allow an island to remain this way and to use, at the nations of the world expense–money to maintain them is, unfortunately,” he slowed down, noticing Hammond’s face drain of some color and his head droop slightly, “is not that important.”
“Alan, dear boy,” Hammond said, lifting his face, patting him on the back, “you always did tell me how it is. It’s my lot in life I fear.”
“It’s time for him to get ready now,” a nurse announced from the door.
“It is ok, Hannah. These are my friends I told you about. Dr. Grant, and–”
“Oh, your friends! Well, say goodbye to them. The Jet is ready to take off.”
And with that, Alan and Billy said their final goodbyes, and were driven back to the museum.
