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PostPosted: Thu Jul 17, 2003 1:29 am 
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Please feel free to read the Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, and Chapter 11 before reading the following chapter. :) Anyway, here's Chapter 12:

Chapter 12: Laboratory

Anne steps out onto the metal overhang, overlooking the lab. All over are stacks of equipment, like it was left in a hurry.

She walks down the stairs, hearing the clang of her shoes echo with each step. She walks off, onto concrete, and inspects the equipment.

Her hand passes over a dome, and she turns to look.

She whispers to herself, looking at the machine, “This is like the one back at the other building, by the river.”

The glass dome on top of the three foot tall machine is cleaner, and she finds that she can lift it. It whines open, rising into the air and Anne peers inside.

The bottom is lined with dead grass, and there are about a dozen eggshells inside. All open.

She hadn’t been able to figure out what this machine was before, but now it hits her. “It’s an incubator.”

She pulls back, looking around again. Something catches her eye.

She pushes past another incubator, making her way to a table against one wall. A single broken lamp rests on it, as well as a white folder marked: ‘Private.’

In the bottom is written:

Files Property C. Kantros Unless Specified

“I wonder who this Kantros person is.”

She shrugs, turning and resting against the table, holding the folder. She opens it, and gazes down at the first page. It’s a simple paper, stuck in at an angle. It’s typed out. Anne tries to straighten it, and begins to read it:

The following is private notices on the Special section of research and development here on InGen’s Site B. Transfer specifications are not designated, and all species included in this notice have not been added to the final species’ list to be added to the Park. Progress listings for early development for undisclosed species included. This is the hidden force that Hammond may or may not make the final cut on. New species pending. Current “special” species also pending. At any time may a certain project be cancelled.

“And that means?”

Anne flips it, allowing full view of the next page. In the upper-left hand corner of the page is the image of an Ankylosaurus. Several bars are lined up to the right of the image, each titled and labeled. Anne reads each one aloud, “Ankylosaurus magniventris. Product count: 9. Diet: Herb.”

On the lower half of the page was a text area, labeled: Progress Data.

It read:

Two batches made; A group and B group. A consists of 4, B consists of 5. Both batches healthy, raised. No DX traced into any. Three weeks in, Ankylosaur specimens Anky-A03 and Anky-B01 died of unknown causes. First specimen to completely adapt was Anky-A01, which we released into the protective local of the island, along with Anky-A04, Anky-B02, and Anky-B03. Last to adapt were specimens Anky-A02 and Anky-B05. No attempts were made for any replacement batches, and specie cancellation set temporarily. All surviving specimens released into the wild until further notice.

“So there was a total of nine. Two died, which left seven. Then they let them out into the wild? Why?” She stopped, trying to think. “There were about nine adults at the nest in the woods, so those could’ve been these ones,” she said, putting a finger on the paper.

She flipped the page. She saw the image of the horned, bipedal creature that had been attacked by the one with the fin. She read the listings beside it: “Ceratosaurus nasicornis. Product count: 4. Diet: Carn.”

She slowly read the Progress Data:

Total of four made. One died two days after hatch. Remaining three healthy, released into the wild immediately several months later. Two months after release, one specimen found dead, possibly DX. Specie cancellation set temporarily. Both surviving specimens are to be left in the wild until further notice.

“They left these in the wild too? Only two left. If that’s so, there’s only one now,” she said, remembering the finned-dinosaur attack the wounded Ceratosaur back on the jungle road. She flipped the page.

“Corythosaurus casuarius. Product count: 22. Diet: Herb.”

Her eyes drifted to the picture next to it. The animal seemed to be up on two legs, and a long, thick tail in the back. On its beaked head she saw a crest. “I haven’t seen this one yet.”

Two clusters made from start of Corythosaur project, each with eleven eggs, marked Cory-A01 to Cory-A11, Cory-B01 to Cory-B11. Lost seven at birth: four from the A cluster, three from the B cluster. Surviving fifteen sent to safe zone for three months. We received notice the Corythosaur project was completely dumped, possibly for good, due to rumors, which were proven false, about them being a carrier species of DX. The Corythosaur herd got along with the Parasaur herds we have on the island being prepped for transfer to the Park. For now, we await word of any news on the project’s finish go-ahead.

She flipped the page. The picture was of the domed-headed animal species she had seen on the river. “Pachycephalosaurus wyomingensis. Product count: 16. Diet: Herb.”

The Progress Data read:

Species originally planned to be under the “Special” list in case project never got underway. Two weeks before the cluster hatching we received word the species was officially on the list. All project files for the species have been moved, and we’re awaiting full growth for the herd for transfer to the Park.

“Ok, so this Pachy-thing,” Anne whispers, “got added to the list—whatever that is.”

She continued on to the next page. The entire top half was an image of the winged-creature in the dome she had encountered. The entire page wasn’t in format like the previous ones, and a simple word scribbled underneath the picture read: Pteranodon.

Below that she saw a hand-written paragraph, still labeled Progress Data:

Pteranodon project came unexpectedly a few months ago. Our Cearodactyl batch at the Park’s unfinished aviary is said to be too aggressive, so we’ll be replacing them with Pteranodon species. Although Hammond wants to keep the Cearodactlys at the Park, and try to have a second Aviary Lodge, we’ve gone ahead with the Pteranodon project.

There was a space, and then more writing:

Successful count of six Pteranodons. We’ve moved them to Site B aviary, until further notice for any chance at addition to the list, which had become slim since Project was given.

“Hmm…” She flipped the page, seeing that the next was back in format.

The picture was of the finned-dinosaur that had attacked the Ceratosaur. She read the bars next to it: “Spinosaurus aegypticus. Product Count: 5. Diet: Carn.”

Then she read the Progress Data:

Project started in late months of 1992. We created a cluster of five, but only three survived birth. All three grew amazingly aggressive, and Labs worried something gone wrong. They grew adaptive, and speculation grew against them being transferred to the Park. Wu thanks God Muldoon didn’t know about it. Week before release into wild, one died, and then the surviving male and female released. A few weeks later female was found dead near river. In-Check team lost track of male and no sign of it since. Project dumped a month later.

“So that Spinosaurus I saw is the only one then,” she said. She looked up at the picture, before flipping to the next page.

And odd four-legged creature, like the Triceratops, dominated the picture slot. She read the labels: “Torosaurus latus. Product Count: 14. Diet: Herb.”

Progress Data read:

Two clusters made, labeled Toro-A01 to Toro-A07, Toro-B01 to Toro-B07. When hatched, many died of a disease which we later learned affected only the Torosaurs. Testing was done on surviving Torosaurs in both clusters, and learned that the disease hadn’t spread to them. We bred one batch to replace the lost Torosaurs form the original two batches, but, again, only several survived. This small surviving herd of less than fifteen was released into the wild. Project was later cancelled, because, yet again, they were dying off in the wild of an untraceable disease.

“They were having problems with these Torosaurs. I wonder if there are any left.”

The next page was labeled ‘Special List Status.’

Here eyes glided from each listing to the next, lining the center of the page:

Ankylosaurus: Cancelled (Pending)
Ceratosaurus: Cancelled (Temp.)
Corythosaurus: Awaiting Transfer Notice.
Pachycephalosaurus: Finished, Added to Perm. List.
Pteranodon: Project Awaiting Finish Go-Ahead.
Spinosaurus: Cancelled.
Torosaurus: Cancelled.


She re-read the list, and then flipped to the next page. A typed notice read:

Possible Additions possibly coming up in future to our Special Sector. Plans include: Diplodocus (1994); Kentrosaurus (1995); and Troodon species set for 1996. Hammond is also planning to build some sort of water attraction for the Park, to house a species of extinct sea-animal that would be appealing. He’s sent us a list including Mososaurus and Kronosaurus, but Wu is trying to talk down the mass a project like this would take. It just won’t be able to happen.

“One more page…”

The next page was all blank, except for a single, typed notice in the center of the page, reading:

All Files for existing “list” dinosaurs found can be found in all Labs. Upcoming files are found in Kantros office, Wu office, or other listed offices. These documents within this file are private, for “Special” research staff only.

She closed the file, and asked, “If this file is supposed to be private, why is this just lying out here where others could’ve gotten to it?”

Her mind flashed back to when she was inside the lab back at the river. She had been reading a note between two people, and one had written:

Why didn’t they tell us?

“If this whole Special team was supposed to be secret, then…”

She stopped.

“If this was a secret, and if this place is supposed to be their Secret lab, how would they have kept it a secret? I mean, anybody could see this thing without missing it.”

No…

“Maybe they had a lab elsewhere…”

On another island?

“No, they only had two islands. They had to have been doing their secret research and development here. Somewhere.”

Where though?

Anne shook her head, setting the file back down. “Come on girl. Why should I even care? I’m supposed to be looking for a way off this island, not looking for something about this island.”

Something’s not right though.

-----

Anne walks past the incubators, towards a row of cylindrical tubes. Almost all of them are filled three quarters of the way with odd, green liquid, and inside several is something floating in one place.

As she gets close, she presses her hands to the glass looking in. The floating object is actually a dinosaur, with tubes rising up of its back to a series of holes under the lid of the top of the tank. The dinosaurs are small, like children growing in a mother’s womb. They’re all dead.

One of the tanks is completely devoid of any dinosaur, with just the green liquid; while two of the tanks near the end are completely empty.

She looks left, down the row of tanks, at the stairs she came down. The row of tubes ends two yards short of the wall, and she walks down, quickly realizing there is a hall.

She stops at the turn, looking back up the stairs. “Just ten minutes, then I have to get going.”

Anne walks down the hall, concrete on both sides. Up ahead, the tunnel curves right two times, the tunnel completely ending at the right turn. As she gets closer to the first turn, she sees that the concrete to her left turns into a cage, and when she gets to the turn she stops.

The turn forms an aisle down sets of penned cages. Each one is large, several covered with dead hay. The aisle stops at another cage, with a window lighting up the room at the same wall, several feet above the cage floor.

“So this is where they put the dinosaurs,” she says, “before they let them go.”

She nods, continuing past the aisle down the end of the hall. She turns the second curve, seeing the back of the cages to her right, with concrete still to her left. The hall bends left ahead, at the end of the cages, and Anne says, “This place is like a maze.”

She rounds the corner, entering a large, circular room. Filling up much of the room, leaving only a few feet of walk-space the entire rim of the room itself, is a large plexi-glass, cylindrical wall. She walks up to it, placing her hands on it, and looks down. The floor drops several feet, to a circle of high-growing plants. Above, in the ceiling of the room, she sees two sliding doors, built in a circle, like a lid, to the secluded spot inside the cylinder.

“I wonder what this is for. It’s got to be at least twenty feet in diameter. Maybe fifteen.”

On both sides of the door frame she just entered are stairways, leading up to a ramp a few yards off the ground, which rims the room. Below that, the walls are bare, except for several illegible posters. On the opposite side of the room, Anne can see another door.

She walks around the cylinder, continuing to stare down at the mini-jungle below. She crosses the floor to the door, pulling it open, expecting to find another part of the lab.

Anne finds herself outside, instead. She steps out onto dirt, letting the door close behind her. She turns around, facing the complex, and looks up. The entire wall ahead is like a castle watch tower, built as a cylinder.

“Amazing,” she whispers. “This is where they did it.”

She turns around, facing the jungle. “Now what Anne?”

I guess I have no choice, but to go on through the jungle.

-----

Anne hears distant buzzing in the jungle, as she walks through. She’s sweating; the air’s unbelievably warm.

“God,” she says. “I’m so tired.”

The only rest she had gotten was back on the boat, and that seemed like it had been days ago. She looked around, homing in on a large tree rising up into the canopy. She jumped up, grabbing a split in the trunk, and pulled herself up.

She reached from branch to branch, moving to a cluster of thick branches almost halfway up the tree. After several minutes, she pulled herself onto one.

Her arms ached, her legs ached. Everything ached!

She rubbed her forehead, a slight stinging sensation racing through her head as she touched the injury. She pushed against the trunk, resting her back against it. Her legs were placed straight, along the branch itself.

“I’ll get some rest up here.”

She looked down, at the ground floor below, covered in a slight growth of plants. Gnarled roots from the tree bumped up here and there, like a serpent drawing.

She yawned, closing her eyes in the shade of the canopy.

Within minutes, her eyes closed, and she fell asleep.


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