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Jurassic Park Dawn of Retribution Intro and Prologue
By JPJunkee+Yvonne
Dawn Of Retribution
by Kyle Warner and Yvonne Bartha
INTRODUCTION
Look outside your window. You'll probably see a bird flying by, maybe a squirrel in a tree, or maybe a kid running to the school bus in the morning. If you see any of these things (or things like them) you are witnessing the difference between man and nature.
When a bird is born, it is born with instincts. Whether these are the instincts to fly south for the winter, or just the plain and simple instinct of survival, animals are creatures of instinct. They use their instincts for survival. Their genes, and their evolution, pass on their instincts.
When a human is born, it has no instincts. None. Human beings are creatures of habit and predictability. A baby boy does not know a thing about the world around him when he is born. All the things in his world are taught to him by his family or his school teachers. If you look outside and see a kid running to the school bus, you are witnessing habit. Unconsciously, the first time a person sees a school bus, they are confused. But, they see others using them, and they are told it is the right thing to do. So, they board the school bus. And after a while it becomes natural for the mind to accept the school bus, because it is habit. A baby is sitting on the floor, and is rolling a ball across the room to where it hits the wall and bounces back to him. Do you think this is instinct? No, it is habit, it is predictable.
If you put a child of the age of ten in the middle of the African plains, and this child had never been taught about lions in any way, what do you think he'd do when he saw a lioness approaching? Well, lions are formidable animals, even if you know nothing about them. So, the kid would most likely back up, keeping distance from the lion, but never letting it out of his sight. What would happen? The other lions hiding in the grass behind the boy, would use their pack tactics to kill the boy.
Now, put a kid who has been taught about lions in school, and maybe the kid even watched the Discovery Channel, into the African plains. This kids knowledge far surpasses that of the other kids. This knowledgeable kid sees the single lioness stalking him, and what does he do? He turns around and begins to scream at the bushes, thwarting the surprise attack behind him. Why did he do this? Because habit and predictability taught him to do so (with a little bit of pattern spotting thrown in as well). This kid had been taught that lions were pack hunters, and he knew of their tactics. It was not instinct that taught him to look for the other pack members, it was habit. Now granted, I'd still have my money on the lions tearing this kid to shreds, but the fact remains, habit, predictability, and patterns could have saved his life.
So, animals have instincts, we have habits.
Honestly, it seems like we got jipped, doesn't it? But yet, we're considered the most intelligent life forms of the planet. We use our way of thinking and our views of the world to be successful beings.
But, as good as that may seem, the systems of our minds are so messed up and chaotic, that sometimes it's hard to even notice a system.
Our habits can be used against us.
They say the only intelligent gambler is a retired gambler. Gambling is a habit (and often times an addiction, too). When a person walks into a casino for the first time, perhaps he sees a person hitting the jackpot and winning thousands of dollars. This newcomer to the casino decides to test his luck, and steps up to a machine, expecting the same luck as the other man. This is habit gone wrong. You see others winning, you think you can win as well. It doesn't work that way, but you just don't know better. Because of habit. Habit can put you out on the streets if you're not careful and in control.
Our predictability can lead to depression.
When a person is successful in life, they don't change a thing. They decide to be predictable and keep on with their current lifestyles, attitudes, or patterns. Superstition has a lot to do with being predictable. Okay, lets say, that you are a successful business man working at a big building downtown, living the good (yet busy) life. You wake in the morning, take your shower, drink your coffee, then take your Lexus to work. Then, after work, you get home, and go to sleep. Sure, you're living the good life! You've got money, and maybe you sleep with a stranger every other day, no need for commitment, and nor is their time for it. Sound like fun? Hardly. This is your life as a predictable system. Revolving around and around doing the same thing every day, same faces, same tasks, same result. After a while, this predictable lifestyle will lead you to a breakdown and probably to the need for psychiatric help. So, if you knew that this is the way it would be, would you still sign up for this job? Damn straight you would! You wouldn't know it would lead you to depression, all you would see are the dollar signs and the picture of success. Predictable, no?
Our use of pattern spotting can get us killed.
We as humans use our minds to spot patterns in the world around us. But what if these patterns suddenly change? Our minds are so used to the old patterns, that we may not be able to cope with the sudden change, until it's too late. Pattern spotting is necessary for the human race to survive, but systems change their patterns so erratically, it's hard to keep up. One of the hardest things in our world to try and watch is the patterns of Wall Street. But two scientists, Doyne Farmer and Norman Packard, have set out to test Wall Street and its system. And you know what? Wall Street isn't as unpredictable as we once thought. These two men have made millions predicting the rises and falls and yet other people are ruined by what they call the most unpredictable system of our world. The reason they are ruined, is simply because they can't adapt.
How many of us have to die before we realize what is wrong with us? It's a damn shame that so few people realize the way our minds work, and the few that do understand it, all deny it because they are too proud.
Stop being proud and start being realistic. It's about time something was done to stop all of this. We can't exactly change who or what we are, but we can learn to realize what and who we are. If we don't we perish. Simple as that.
The world around us is intertwined and is all a part of Universality. The grass, the wind, the animals, you, and every other invisible matter in between. We all affect each other. Everything has a purpose.
When I told a colleague of mine about Universality, he thought it was lunacy. "Sounds like you're making up some sort of Star Wars knock off of The Force," he had said. I told him that I was not making up Universality, and that it was a real, and respected theory about the world around us. "Everything has a purpose?" he had said, to which I nodded, "What about fruit flies? They are born and then they die, I hardly see a purpose to them," he had said.
At this, I honestly didn't know what to say. Fruit flies are a pointless species, in my opinion (even more so, than those damned mosquitoes). But, after a moment, I had my answer, "If they have no purpose, why is so much time spent studying them? Why are they included in so many debates in science, why is such a big fuss made over these small creatures that you say have no purpose? Well, to me, if they are included in so much of science, then they obviously have a purpose, whether it's a purpose for them or for us, they do have a purpose."
At that, he had no reply. I was right.
The point I'm trying to make is that we're different than the world around us. We work and operate differently. We think differently and live differently. But, we are still a part of this world, and we should think of ourselves as nothing better than any other beings on the earth (well, we're better than the blood sucking mosquitoes, I suppose).
Scientists say we're driving so many species to extinction, and you know they're right. It's right there on paper, written in the blood of the creatures we're killing everyday. But the species that's heading on its way to extinction the fastest, is man. But the fact that we don't realize it is just an example of the flaws of our minds. We're too proud. And our pride will be the death of us.
But a new hope is on the horizon. As the sun rises in the east, our faces will look on in fear and uncertainty, as a new dawn approaches. What will this dawn bring? Death? Happiness? Life? Salvation?
It is not clear, what this new dawn brings. It is never clear. Change is chaotic -- always has been -- especially when the change is drastic. Survival is not certain, and the chaos within the once predictable patterns will become even more severe. Prepare for change. Prepare for a new light, and very possibly a new darkness.
Prepare for the Dawn of Retribution.
--- Kyle Warner —
PROLOGUE
Hidden in the misty morning haze, shielded by the uncertainness of a man's lost thoughts, secluded in the darkness of one's own sanity, a little boy dreams in the mind of a man. The muscular man's chiseled old face possessed a grand smile as the boy in his mind dreamt away.
Dreams of innocence and love. Dreams of better days. Days long forgotten. Days that had come to pass when life was but a lie. The boy dreamed of kindness and hope, blind to the world's hate and misunderstanding.
In the dream, the boy was fifteen, he held his first true girlfriend in his arms. She looked into his eyes, and he saw the true love that only someone so young and beautiful could create. She loved him, and he loved her.
They were to grow old together. This they had both foreseen. Even the boy's father believed in his child's love, and saw it as nothing less than a blessing for a child who had seen such heartache in the past.
The dream began to blur, and the muscular man's face creased as a frown took the grand smiles place.
Slowly, the dream was replaced by another, much more tormenting vision. Now, the boy saw a vision of him at sixteen, holding his dead father's body in his youthful arms. His father's face was as white as a ghost, and as empty as the boy's heart.
In the dream, the boy sensed his girlfriend approach him from behind, and place a tender hand on his shoulder. He looked away from his beloved father, his only parent, and into the eyes of his love.
She caressed his face with a warm gentle hand. Wiping away the tears, she leaned in closer to him and whispered into his ear, "We all die, Brock. It is nature's way. It is not your fault."
The boy looked into the gorgeous eyes of his only true love, and he began to sob.
The muscular man's body flinched as he overheard one of the many screams of futility surrounding him. Quickly however, his body relaxed, and his dream began to float to another time and another place.
The boy was now eighteen, he was now graduating from high school. He wore the ridiculous black gown that all the graduates were forced to wear. His black hat with golden tassels, was tilted forward to help hide his embarrassed face.
His girlfriend approached him from his right. She moved his hat, and looked deeply into his eyes. His eyes darted away from hers, and looked down to the ground.
"What is it?" She asked, her voice as wonderful as that of a songbird.
A tear fell from his eye to his cheek.
The girl frowned and wiped the tear away. "Brock, are you okay? Come on, you need to tell me."
The boy looked up into her eyes and sighed. "I'm not like you Emily, I don't. . . ."
The muscular man's face tensed, he knew what was coming in the dream.
In the dream, the boy looked into Emily's glamorous blue eyes. He could look at them for hours. But this time, he saw something beyond them. . . .
"Emily!" The boy screamed as did the sleeping muscular man.
In the background a speeding car careened into the graduating platform. The cheap platform, made of bargain wood and cardboard tilted and swayed. People on the platform screamed as they jumped away to safety.
The boy rushed to his love, as the platform’s shadow began to fall upon her. But he was too slow, the back of the platform, with the words, "Congratulations Class of 82!", crashed down upon her unsuspecting body.
The boy stared at the sign with a sense of horrible irony, then ran to lift it off her. But, the boy was not strong enough. Only her head and left hand protruded from the sign. He looked into her pain filled eyes, as she took her last breaths. He sobbed as he grasped her hand and felt it go limp.
In the dream, he could practically feel his adrenaline pumped body stalk up to the crashed car. In an uncontrollable rage, he pulled the drunk students out of the car, and beat them to a bloody pulp. It took two teachers and four parents to finally pull the boy off his bloodied victims.
The parents and teachers pushed him against the car. And tried to hold him there, as he began to cry like a madman.
Slowly the dream passed, and shifted to another time entirely.
The boy was now a man, the age of twenty-five. Life was better now, not so much hate, not so much torment. He held a major in genetics from FSU. Today was the day he met with a possible future boss. The famous millionaire, John Parker Hammond.
The dream sped forward, and he saw the unforgettable vision, of shaking Hammond's frail old hands. Hammond liked his work ethics, and saw great potential. He was to work for Hammond at some island in the middle of the Pacific. He didn’t know all the details, and at the time, it never occurred to him that he should ask.
The sleeping man shifted uneasily.
The dream shifted to his first day on the island, Isla Nublar. He was introduced to Dr. Henry Wu, his new supervisor. Wu then introduced Brock to the rest of the genetics team. There was the antisocial but infinitely intelligent, Karl Berkley. Then there was the ever humorous and quick minded Art Avery. The grumpy old Norwegian, John Franco. Of course there were others, but these were the people that he really got to know, and worked alongside. And in time, he made the risk of calling them all his friends.
At the end of the first day, while Berkley was showing him how the special super computers of the lab, the last member of the major genetics team walked through the door. Brock looked up at the beautiful woman, and was instantly reminded of Emily, who had passed away almost a decade earlier. His gaze fixed onto her body, and his mouth dropped open. It was incredible how much she looked like Emily!
"You the new guy?" The woman asked Brock, as she approached him slowly and casually.
Brock simply nodded. It was all he could manage to do in his surprise.
She looked over his body, and nodded, "I think you'll fit in just fine," then she walked away.
Berkley elbowed Brock's side, "Jeez kid, I've been working here for almost two years, and you're the first person I've seen her look at that way."
"'That way'?"
"Don't play dumb kid, she was checking you out."
Brock smiled when he realized this had been true, "What's her name?"
"Suzan Lefly."
In time, Suzan and Brock became good friends. And within six months, they became even more. Brock once again realized what it was like to love.
In a whiz, the dream leapt to the future. It was now 1993. Brock remembered this year well.
Brock sat his big body on one of the lab's computer chairs. He began to type away at the keyboard, when suddenly Wu ran into the lab. "Come on everybody, we're evacuating. The storm's getting too strong, so Arnold and Hammond want us to get on the next boat leaving for the main land. No exceptions."
Brock spun his chair around, "When does the boat leave?"
"Ten minutes, we’ve got Jeeps ready to take us now, so let's move people."
Everyone got up from their desks and began to filter out of the lab. Brock walked slowly up to Wu and said quietly, "Where's Suzan?"
Wu took a deep breath, "We don't know. We thought she was in her room at the lodge, but we can't find her, supposedly Berkley’s with her. So she'll be safe."
"Will she make it to the boat in time?"
Wu put a reassuring hand on Brock's shoulder, "If not, she can get the next one. Don't worry, she'll be just fine."
The dream jumped forward again, and now he saw himself on the boat, braving the horrible rain, to keep watch for any people rushing to get to the boat before it left.
It had been fifteen minutes, they weren't going to wait much longer, he knew that. Brock made a fist as he watched for Suzan to appear on the dock. But she never did.
Avery walked up behind Brock and said, "We're leaving now. You may want to come inside."
"No."
"Okay fine, I'll keep you company." Avery said, and tightened the hood of his jacket.
They felt the boat lurch as it slowly moved out of the harbor, and into the open ocean.
Brock watched in total despair as he saw the lights of the harbor slowly moving away from him.
"She'll be okay, kid. She'll get on the next boat or chopper. Don't worry."
Brock shook his head and looked back at the harbor, and was amazed to see two people running to the edge of it. "Suzan?"
Avery looked at the two people on the harbor, "Shit." Then, Avery turned and ran back to the bridge, to tell them to turn the boat around.
Brock continued to watch the two people, one of them was obviously Suzan, with her shining blonde hair and beautiful features. The other must have been Berkley. . . . Brock looked closer at the other man. The man was walking with a limp, and was holding his arm close. Brock saw unmistakable blood smeared on the man's white shirt.
Slowly, Brock's gaze looked up from the two people, and into the trees beyond. From the wood, he saw an immense creature step out into the open and roar. The roar overpowered all the ocean's fury and the thunder's madness.
Brock watched in utter horror as the animal ran to the two people. Within moments it had seized who Brock presumed to be Berkley, biting onto the man's mid section and then swallowing him whole. Then, the creature moved onto Suzan. Suzan retreated to the end of the harbor, putting the animal in front of her and the ocean behind her.
The creature stood over her, and growled. Its head came up, then shot downwards. And in that instant the lights on the harbor went out. But Brock could swear he had heard Suzan's futile screams.
In the dream, Brock's big muscular body staggered, then fell.
These events had led to extreme depression, and Brock was sent to a hospital for almost ten years. A loss of the will to live any more, and multiple suicide attempts, kept him in the hospital longer.
The sleeping man slowly began to rise. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and looked around him. He was in the hospital's room for patients waiting to be sent home.
A nurse and an orderly approached him. The nurse looked at a folder in her hands, "Brock Larson: How are you feeling today?"
Brock thought quickly for the most suitable words, "I'm fine, how are you?"
The nurse smiled, "I'm fine, thank you for asking. So are you ready to go home, Mr. Larson?"
He nodded slowly, "Yes, I feel I'm finally ready."
"Good, just take this folder up to the front desk. Your friend is waiting outside in the parking lot to take you home."
Brock's brow creased, "My friend?"
"Yes, a Mr. Arthur Avery. He has said that you can stay with him until you get yourself situated."
Brock made a quivering smile, that the nurse couldn't quite decipher. Then, he took the folder, and walked up to the desk.
Within minutes, he was walking out of the hospital, and into the bright warm day. He saw Avery waving at him at the end of the parking lot.
Brock Larson smiled.
Today he was free.
And tomorrow, would bring retribution.
Comments are appreciated!
--JPJunkee and Yvonne
6/1/2003 1:05:27 AM
(Updated: 6/1/2003 1:07:49 AM)
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