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GENESIS REVISED EDITION
By AlanGrant5
GENESIS – Jurassic Park ///
Complete Version – January 14, 2001
TABLE OF CONTENTS ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Prologue: False Paradise
Part I: Alan Grant
Part II: Costa Rica
Part III: Confirmed Rumors
Part IV: Isla Nublar
Epilogue: Tribute to a Hero
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Prologue: False Paradise
Puntarenas, Costa Rica (July 18, 1998)
The sun was about to set as Samuel Sanchez drove down the highway in his 1994 Honda Accord. There was nothing but jungle to the left of him and a nice view of the beach to his right. He loved Costa Rica. In fact he loved it so much, that it became a custom to come there every summer.
Strangely, he was the only one on the highway. It didn’t bother him, in fact he liked it, but the emptiness of the road seemed eerie. A warm breeze came in from the slightly cracked window, as he approached fifty miles an hour. The palm trees that surrounded him began to sway back and forth in a rhythmic motion. The scenery was beautiful, giving him a sense of tranquility and comfort.
When he glanced to the left of him, he saw the sun setting into the ocean beyond. The sun’s light reflected off the waters and the undulating waves turned into an orangish–aqua blue, that shown brightly across the beach. He turned the radio up a bit, but then turned it back down. Sam heard something coming from the jungle that was located to the right of him. The sound was equivalent to that of a bullhorn. Sam looked into his rear view mirror, thinking whatever had made the noise was far behind him. He rolled down the window, decreasing his speed to forty miles per hour, and listened for the noise to cry out again...nothing.
Sam shrugged it off and rolled his window up. Without further adieu, he turned up the radio and began tapping his fingers to the tune of the song that was being played, against the steering wheel. Suddenly the noise could be heard again, but this time it was just as loud as the first. Turning down his radio once more, he stuck his head outside the window listening. It was a roar followed by a continuous humming. What the hell is that? Sam wondered.
The noise seemed like it was getting closer. As the roar grew louder, birds began to flutter from the palm trees that towered above him and the foliage began to shake violently. Then with an ear-piercing roar, a large creature with plates along its back and spikes on the tip of its tail, burst from the shrubbery, knocking down a palm tree landing three inches away from his bumper. His brakes screeched, leaving skid marks behind him. The creature was galloping past him, like a giant road block with feet, heading straight for the beach. Seconds later, a helicopter trailed behind it. A man with a rifle could be seen sitting on the edge of the helicopter aiming towards the large moving target.
Sam got out of the vehicle, with his heart pounding in his ears. “Oh my God,” he whispered as he watched the events that were unfolding before his eyes. The green lizard of about ten feet in height, was a stegosaurus. The sun light gleamed off of its plates which ran continuesly down its back. Sam blinked his eyes repeatedly, making sure everything he was seeing was indeed reality and not a day dream. What the hell is going on here? he thought as he watched in complete awe.
The stegosaur was slowing its pace and after two shots in its back and leg, the creature collapsed into the sand. It roared helplessly, breathing in the beach dirt. Then, as the creature layed there, a man was lowered down from the helicopter by a rope. In his hands was a large gun, that hung on a strap across his shoulder; it was a flame thrower. The stegosaur didn’t even bother to save itself, as it already knew it had no chance to fight back. The man, dressed in a black jump suit and baseball cap, hesitated at first to pull the trigger that would lead to the prehistoric creatures’ demise, but realized that it had to be done. With the pull of a trigger, flames ignited the animal, causing it to scream in pain. In a desperate attempt to escape, the stegosaurus rose while it was still on fire. The creature moaned and groaned with agonizing torment as it headed for the ocean. As soon as it hit the water, the flames dissolved, and the creature fell once more, drowning itself.
The man dressed in black sighed, letting go of his torch. The helicopter then landed blowing sand into the hunid air. As the propeller died down, another man came out of the chopper. He ran toward the man with the hat, kicking sand as he approached him.
“SCOTT! We need to talk to that guy...hurry before he leaves!” the man in a buisness suit cried pointing to their eye witness, Samuel Sanchez. The man in the black hump suit, Scott, looked up at the escarpment and saw Sam heading back into his car. Scott took off running after the man.
“HEY, STOP! HOLD ON!” Scott exclaimed giving chase to the Honda Accord, that was a good distance ahead of him. Sam looked in the rear view mirror, watching Scott run after him. He had no intentions of stopping, not after what he had just witnessed.
“Son of a bitch,” Scott muttered, as he realized it was no use to chase a guy with a set of wheels. Catching up with him, was the man in the buisness suit. “What now?” Scott asked.
“There’s nothing we can do. They would have found out sooner or later...just wish it could of been later, rather than sooner,” the man said wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.
********Author’s Note**********************
Probably the highlight of the book, this
is a prologue like no other JP film, involving
a herbivore and showing just how much damage
it can do.
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PART I: ALAN GRANT
Berkeley, California (one week later)
Renowned paleontologist, Alan Grant, stood at the podium with well over two hundred students staring back at him. He had been talking about raptors mostly, and no one seemed to care. They sat there like mindless zombies just waiting to be excused. Alan knew the only reason they were sticking around was to ask questions...pertaining to Jurassic Park.
A light shown brightly on Alan, causing him to perspire a bit. He loosened his collar and then cleared his throat, “Through the painstaking study of the anterior chamber in multiple specimens, we can determine the exciting correlation between the upper palate and the larynx.” Alan gazed at the hundreds of unintersted students, who were just waiting to ask that ONE question. “This lets us theorize – theorize mind you, that the raptor was capable of sophisticated vocalizations. This would have been a tremendous evolutionary advantage. Raptors were fierce, intelligent, and socially sophisticated. They were able to hunt in numbers, and able to cordinate their efforts. Were it not for the cataclysmic events which over took them it is entirely possible that the raptors, rather than humans, would of become the dominate species on this planet.” A few people already started to exit the auditorium. It was so quiet, Alan could of sworn he heard several crickets, rubbing their legs together in the background, mocking him.
“Well, I hope this has been of some interest to you all...I know it excites us as paleontologists. There is much, much more to discover and that is why we continue to ask for your support...Thank you,” Alan concluded.
There was a silence in the crowd. Alan assumed the student’s didn’t even hear him dimiss them. Then, Yolanda Richardson, the dean of students began clapping, breaking the awkward silence. “Thank you, Dr. Grant...now does anyone have a question for Dr. Grant?”
“Here we go,” Alan whispered to himself watching a sea of hands being waved in the air. “Very well, is there anyone who has a question NOT related to the events that took place at Jurassic Park?” A good portion of hands came down. Alan looked at the remaining hands left standing, and smiled. “Or the San Diego incident...which I did not witness?” Now all but two hands were left raised. “Yes,” Alan said pointing to a young man.
“My name is Robbie Turner...your theory is good and all, but isn’t it a bit moot? I mean on one side you have fossils and on the other you have the REAL DEAL. Wouldn’t it be easier if scientists just went to the island themselves and studied them? I mean, that way you can get some facts, and not have to jump to these wild theories,” the young man said folding his arms in his chest.
Alan smiled sarcastically, “The REAL DEAL? The REAL DEAL is what we find fossilized in the rock. The REAL DEAL, Mr. Turner, existed millions of years ago. What John Hammond and Ingen did was nothing short of playing God. Let me give you a situation Mr. Turner. I’m at an excavation site in...oh I don’t know, lets say in the Bad Lands, okay?”
Robbie nodded.
“Now I have to go away for a while...lets say a day or two. Are you following me or have I lost you already at such a slow pace?”
Robbie felt a little offended, but nodded nonetheless.
“Now, knowing that Mr. Turner, what is the difference between fossilized dinosaurs and the Ingen freaks John Hammond created years ago?”
Robbie shook his head, “I don’t know.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. The difference is this: when I come back to my dig, the FOSSILS will still be there...which is the least I could say for Hammond’s creations. You see the dinosaurs on that island are nothing but theme park monsters created to attract naive people like you and I, not to mention the money we have, that they need. If you want to see the REAL DEAL Mr. Turner, than I suggest you go into the field of paleontology. But if you want to see the REAL DEAL in which you speak of, I suggest going into the entertainment district.”
The young man sat back in his seat, as if he were a dog who had just been scolded for doing something wrong. Alan looked over at the other raised hand, bu the person had decided to disreguard their question. It was as if he had scared the person from asking their question.
“Is there a question you’d like answered miss?” Alan asked.
The girl looked at him with wide eyes, “No...you answered it. Thanks anyway...”
Grant stood red faced, in the middle of the stage watching them all leave...the rest of them anyway. All except for one left the auditorium. An African-American man, most likely in his early fifties, who wore a black trench coat, stood at the exit. Alan turned around and started to put all of his papers back into his brief case that convieniently slid around his shoulder. Alan fluffed out his hat and placed it on his head.
“Thank you Dr. Grant, that was really...interesting,” Yolanda said extending a hand shake.
“The pleasure was all mine,” Alan said politely. Yolanda walked off the stage and out of the auditorium. When Alan had gathered all of his belongings, he turned only to be greeted by the man who once stood by the exit.
“Excellent speech you gave there Dr. Grant,” the man said assisting him with a box of raptor fossils.
“Why thank you...you know that really isn’t necessary I can carry that on my...I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name,” Grant said walking down the isle towards the exit.
“That’s because I didn’t give it to you. My name is Rick Sampson, I work for the Costa Rican government,” he replied carrying the box in one hand.
“Really? Well, I’d tell you about me but I suppose you know everything there is to know about me on account of that nice little intro they gave me.”
Rick smiled as he opened the door, which lead outside to the parking lot. “Well actually, I knew about you even before then.”
Alan looked at the man with a bit of anxiety. “I didn’t realize I was a house hold name. My car is the one ove...” Alan didn’t even have to tell the guy which car was his, which made Alan a bit uneasy. Alan opened the trunk, took the box from Rick, and put it in.
“Listen, there is a place down the street from here called Lantino’s Cafe. What do you say, we go down there and get a bite to eat. I have something I’d like to discuss with you,” Rick said leaning on the car door.
“I’m sorry, but I really don’t have the time...”
“Well I’m afraid, you don’t have a choice Dr. Grant,” Rick said putting his sunglasses on.
Alan couldn’t tell if the guy was serious or if he was joking, which is a quality only few people have.
“You’ll just follow my lead...I’ll meet you there,” Rick said walking away from Alan’s jeep and towards a black mercedes.
“But I...” Alan didn’t even try to finish what he was about to say. He shut the trunk and jumped into his jeep. Alan followed Rick to the small cafe located exactly three blocks from the University. Rick got out quickly and sat at a table outside of the cafe. Alan followed, pulling out a chair across from Rick.
“Would you like to tell me why I was forced here?” Alan asked looking over the stained paper menu that lay in front of him.
Rick smiled, “I didn’t force you. No one is ever forced to do anything they don’t want to do. You had two choices and you chose wisely; unfortunately not everyone makes the right decision, especially nowadays.”
Alan smirked. Rick was right. “Well RICK, what exactly do you do?”
“I’m the head of the S.T.F. division.” The waitress came by and gently placed two waters on the table.
“Would you like to elaborate a little bit as to what S.T.F. stands for, or would you like to keep me guessing?” Alan said sarcastically.
“Oh, he said putting his glass of water back on the unsteady table. Special Task Force. Whenever something out of the ordinary should occur and it just so happens to go against the law, we jump in and save the day.”
“So your just a bunch of overpayed cops?”
Rick giggled at the statement, “If you want to look at it that way.”
“Well, now that we’ve gotten to know each other, oh so well, would you like to tell me what I’m doing here?”
“There have been attacks, some fatal, that are occuring all along the Costa Rican coast. Attacks that aren’t made by wild animals,” Rick said sliding an 8 x 11 folder to Alan.
Alan opened it only to reveal photos of gruesome attacks. Grant wasn’t able to identify the sex of the victims, due to the horrendous mutilation that was done to the bodies. He shut the folder quickly, staring back at Rick. “What the hell did this?”
“We’re not entirely sure...but with your help that could all change.”
Alan didn’t like where Rick was going with the statement. “What do you mean, with MY help?”
“Your a paleontologist...you figure it out,” Rick said taking the folder from Alan’s hands.
Alan cocked his eyebrow. “Dinosaurs...you think dinosaurs did this?” he whispered.
“At the moment, we have no other explainations for what has happened. Last week our team went to Puntarenas in response to some strange noises that were reported. One of our men, Scott Larson, said he saw something unlike anything he’d ever seen before. He described it as being very large in size, close to ten feet in height. It had plates that traveled along its back, and spikes to accompany its tail. Well they trailed it down to the beach, when something went wrong...”
“What?” Alan asked completely intrigued by the conversation.
“Well there was a witness to all of this and now he’s long gone,” Rick said sipping the water from a dirty glass.
“What about the stegosaur? Are you keeping it quarentined?”
“Stegosaur?” Rick asked.
“Well from what you described, I’m certain that is what it was.”
“Right...no, the creature was killed upon sight and then dumped into the ocean.”
“Jesus Christ,” Alan said trying to absorb the information he was given. It was unreal. What the hell were dinosaurs doing in Costa Rica? “How long have you been sitting on this?”
“About eight months now...well we didn’t have the slightest suspicion of dinosaurs committing these attacks until last month. What happened last week, was the first we’d ever seen of a dinosaur. We’ve been trying to keep all of this under wraps and away from the public eye for as long as we could...but ever since last week, thanks to our eye witness, rumors have been spreading like a wild fire. Now we have adventurerer’s trying to see if these rumor’s are indeed true. If this gets out in the open, we’ll lose control of the situation completely.”
Alan stared at Rick. The whole situation frightened and intrigued him at the same time.
“We need your help on this Dr. Grant,” Rick said folding his hands together.
Alan was deep in thought. Could all of this really be true? It had to be, Alan thought. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t leave my dig on such short notice. And besides there are plenty of other paleontologist’s out there that I can recommend. I mean, there’s Michael...”
“No. You are the one we need. I know everything about the Nublar incident Dr. Grant. You’ve seen these things in the flesh. You survived under horrific circumstances on that island for well over twenty four hours. If there is anyone who is able to provide substantial help, it’s you. So...you can save your recommendations for someone who cares.”
“Well there’s Ian Malcolm for crying out loud! I mean he survived two trips to the God forsaken...”
“BUT HE IS NO PALEONTOLOGIST! We need to know what we’re dealing with here. We don’t need a chaotician jamming worthless crap down our throats. Listen if you have any doubts about this, the government is willing to pay you a handsome fee for your assistance in this case. And seeing how money is scarce, especially in your field of work, we’d be willing to pay you as much money as you need to fund your digs. Dr. Grant we need YOUR help, not someone elses.”
Alan sat in his seat, absorbing even more information he was receiving. This just came way too fast for him. It was like jamming a funnel with cement and expecting it to go down fast.
“We need an answer sometime today. If you can’t help us, than we’ll just have to TRY to find someone who will. We’re running out of time Dr. Grant, people are dying,” Rick concluded rising from his seat. He threw a card into Grant’s hand, along with five bucks for the tip and left. The card was blank with the exception of a seven digit phone number written in blue ink. Alan sat at the table staring at the card thinking of what he was going to do next. He had to make the right decision.
********Author’s Note******************************
The scene switches gear pretty quick and we are
introduced mainly to Scott Larson. Scott Larson and
Grant won’t get along real well and this might foreshadow
that.
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1/3/02 10:24:59 PM
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