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  JURASSIC

  EARTH

  EPISODE I

  THE JURASSIC FIVE

  Logan T Stark

  ©2015 Logan T Stark

  All rights reserved

  七転び八起き

  Nana Korobi Ya Oki

  Fall seven times, stand up eight.

  Never Give up!

  Ancient Japanese Proverb

  Belly of the Beast

  A aditya Bashar took another sip of water. Again, his mouth parched in seconds. He couldn’t tell if his heart was racing or had stopped beating altogether, silently anticipating what was about to come. Around him, dozens of technicians were staring at the large screens on the front wall of Mission Control at Kennedy Space Center. Someone to Aaditya’s left let out an excited squeak. Everyone in the room span and stared at the woman, who was holding a trembling finger aloft, her breathing increasing in tempo, the green light from her monitor illuminating her widening pupils.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Aaditya noticed the screens on the far wall blaze to life, full with streams of data. The room erupted with cheers. Someone grabbed Aaditya and kissed him on the forehead. The data streams continued to flow, thick and fast. Aaditya released a shuddering sigh, then threw up his hands and unleashed a triumphant cry. He could barely believe what he was seeing. They’d actually succeeded...

  “Thank you,” he said, looking to the heavens. “Oh, thank you, thank you.”

  The last nine years of his life had been dedicated solely to this moment. His beautiful Icarus Two probe had awoken on schedule, after years of hibernation as she’d soared through space, and she appeared to be in perfect working order. For the first time in human history, a probe had entered the sun’s atmosphere and was transmitting live data. Earth’s nearest star would finally give up some of her most closely guarded secrets.

  “You magnificent machine,” Aaditya breathed as he scanned the incoming data. “Your father is very proud. Now, my child, fly for the surface before your wings give out.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir. We’ll be landing at Bournemouth airport soon. You need to buckle your seatbelt,” a female voice interrupted.

  Aaditya turned, confused by the distant sounding voice. He couldn’t locate the elusive speaker anywhere in the Control Room. Why did the voice sound so strange? Someone rested a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. A piercing white light blossomed and Aaditya raised a hand to shield his eyes.

  “I’m terribly sorry to wake you, Dr Bashar, but we’re about to start our descent,” a woman looming over him said softly.

  “Huh?” Aaditya managed, struggling to orientate himself. The woman reached down and secured something around his waist. He remembered he was on a plane.

  “Morning,” a male voice said. “I don’t think I’ve actually managed to bore someone to sleep before.”

  Aaditya squinted and focussed on the smiling face of Tim skinner, who was sitting opposite him in a cream leather seat, bathed in sunlight streaming through the porthole window of the Gulfstream Learjet. The stewardess, dressed in an azure blue uniform accented with yellow stitching, seated herself at the front of the aircraft and buckled herself in. They were the only three people in the cabin.

  Aaditya yawned, feeling pangs of longing to return to the dream world where he could continue to relive the greatest moment of his life. Much like having a dream about falling in love with a beautiful woman, he always seemed to wake up when he got to the good part.

  “Looks like you were having one of those happy dreams,” Tim said, grinning and waggling a finger. “I guess you needed something to cheer you up after the State’s footy nightmare. Being smashed out of Italia ‘90 without winning a single game. That five-one defeat by Czechoslovakia… Killer! Then, your coffin being nailed shut by losing to Italy. You’d think a country as powerful as America would be able to field a competitive footy squad. It’s kind of embarrassing if you think about it.”

  “What is with you Brits and the World Cup?” Aaditya said with a sigh. “You want to send me to sleep again? As I keep telling you, I don’t follow soccer. Also, in case you missed it, I’m Indian.”

  “My file said you were born and raised in Denver, Colorado? You’ve got an American passport, right?” Tim replied, looking puzzled.

  “Almost right. My parents moved to America when I was young. I’m Indian, but love America. It’s my home. It’s treated us very well, given me incredible opportunities. Anyway, soccer or football,” he corrected, mimicking Tim’s British accent, “is practically irrelevant in the States. I like tennis, now that’s a real game. It must be disappointing that your country is hosting Wimbledon in a couple of weeks, yet you don’t have a single British player in the tournament. Correct me if I’m wrong, but almost half of the entrants this year are Americans, no? Kind of embarrassing if you think about it, the country that invented the sport not qualifying a single player.”

  Aaditya winked at Tim, chuckled, then relaxed into his seat and swallowed to equalize the pressure building in his ears as the Learjet descended. He gazed out of the window at the sparkling waters of the English Channel. In the middle distance, white limestone cliffs rose up and met with green and yellow fields that stretched into a distant summer haze.

  “Incredible,” Aaditya muttered. “It’s like a postcard, or a painting, something you only see in movies. Just incredible.”

  “You haven’t seen the half of it.”

  “Tell me something,” Aaditya enquired after a short silence as he admired the view, “are you ready to tell me why I’m really here? No one hires a Learjet to fly in a guest speaker for a lecture, unless it’s for the Sultan of Brunei perhaps. I headed up a division at NASA. I’m well versed in the great game of secrecy surrounding the frontiers of science. I know more than most how we scientists can be more protective than a lioness with cubs.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Tim said, chuckling. “The truth isn’t too far from what I’ve already told you, that you’re here as an advisor to offer counsel on a project that relates to your work on the Icarus program. I’m not really authorised to tell you much more. Is what I can tell you is that this is big league stuff, really big, change the future of science big. For them to send me to the States to pick someone and retrieve them within twelve hours, well, it’s a first for me at least. The cost of a round trip in this thing would make your eyes water.”

  “Not that you’d tell me, but should I be worried? If your people are planning on building a giant solar death laser to enslave humanity, I can tell you with confidence, it can’t be done. Even if it could, you’d cook off the planet’s atmosphere, which I’m fairly confident creates one or two complications for megalomaniacal supervillains.”

  Tim’s eyes crinkled as he laughed.

  “And there was me thinking you Indian American scientists had no sense of humor. No, Dr Bashar, no one’s building a death ray. Besides, a project as average as a solar death ray wouldn’t have my boss as excited to meet you as he is. It’s much bigger than that. More ethical, but much bigger. And, no, you shouldn’t be worried. You’re free to leave at any time. If you want I’ll have the pilot turn around and take us back to the States right now.”

  “No need for that,” Aaditya said, waving a hand. “For the time being you have my interest. My colleagues know where I am.”

  Ten or so minutes later the Learjet kissed the runway of Bournemouth Airport in a manner that Aaditya could only compare to velvet being brushed against silk. The commercial airliners he was accustomed to never landed so gracefully. As the plane taxied from the runway, Aaditya spotted a sleek black helicopter following alongside. Before the plane had come to a full stop, the helicopter swivelled and settled
on a patch of grass nearby. The stewardess promptly unbuckled herself, opened the fuselage door and lowered the stairwell.

  “Your chariot awaits,” Tim said, motioning to the helicopter.

  “Come to take me to the Ball?”

  “Oh, man, you don’t know how close you are,” Tim said, grinning. “Come on, this next bit’s gonna blow your mind.”

  Soon, Aaditya and Tim were flying alongside the limestone cliffs Aaditya had been admiring from the Learjet. They radiated intense white light under the glare of the English summer sun. The helicopter bounced occasionally as they encountered thermals rising from the English Channel.

  “Welcome to the Jurassic Coast,” Tim said into the mouthpiece of his headset.

  “The Jurassic coast?” Aaditya shouted, pushing the earphones of his headset into his ears so he could hear Tim over the whine of the helicopter.

  “It’s a world heritage site,” Tim replied. “Some of the most complete dinosaur fossils ever recovered were dug out of those cliffs. Most of this area used to be underwater. There’s a layer through the cliffs called Blue Lias. It’s a geological formation that was laid down in the Jurassic period. It’s chock full of fossils.”

  “A world heritage site? Perhaps when I’m done I could stay a few days and have a look around?”

  “Whatever you want. There’s some excellent museums across Dorset. They’re small, but have some amazing artefacts. No expense will be spared to ensure you’re catered for. Just ask and I’ll see it gets done.”

  “The more you talk the stranger this gets,” Aaditya said. “Whatever you need from me or whoever you think I am, I’m positive you’ve made a mistake. Everything I’ve worked on is public information. Everything I know is documented and freely available from NASA’s archives. I’ve not made a new breakthrough in years. I’m worried I’ll disappoint whoever’s summoned me.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr Yamamoto knows exactly who you are. He’ll be there when we land. He’s fascinated by your solar research. You’re under no pressure. Think of this as a casual meeting.”

  “With Mr Yamamoto? Is he the…”

  “Billionaire construction magnate, Yamamoto Industries, yeah, that’s the one.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” Aaditya gushed, looking down at his plaid shirt and chinos in disgust. “I’m dressed like a caveman. You should have let me change. I can’t offend the man by looking like this. My suit’s in my luggage. It’s still on the plane isn’t it? Oh, no,” he groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  “It’s fine don…”

  “It’s not fine,” Aaditya rebuffed. “First impressions count. A man like Mr Yamamoto can do anything. He built half the skyscrapers on Earth. You should have warned me!”

  “He’s into much more than just skyscrapers. If it’s big, he’s involved. Planes, trains, tankers, warships, ocean liners, submarines and the odd specialist project. It’s his son you’ll be meeting, Noriyuki Yamamoto. This is his project. He’s not as old-school as his father, so don’t worry about formal Japanese greetings and all that. People always worry about that stuff. Nori’s a lot more relaxed than the older generation. You’ll like him.”

  “Oh my god!” Aaditya exclaimed, suddenly realizing the full potential of the meeting. “He wants to fund the continuation of the Icarus Program, doesn’t he? That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? With the Yamamotos on board we could accomplish almost anything… I mean… I could… I…”

  “It’s probably best you don’t get ahead of yourself. You might be disappointed otherwise. Try treat this as a casual meeting. And breathe…”

  For the next half an hour, Aaditya fell silent, desperately trying to reacquaint himself with every facet of his life’s work. He’d only get one shot with Mr Yamamoto, so he needed to be fully versed and make sure he could answer questions quickly and efficiently. He selected his most important discoveries and pieced them together, into a pitch that also included unanswered questions about the nature of the sun.

  The Icarus Program’s most perplexing discovery was the fact the sun’s surface was relatively cool, a mere five-thousand degrees Celsius. This was in stark contrast to the unimaginable heat of the atmosphere, the corona, which was upwards of a million degrees. This made no sense. Even a schoolkid knew heat decreased the further you move from a flame, so why was the sun’s heat increasing? Aaditya muddled through the myriad of experiments he’d conceived to seek out explanations for the solar system’s greatest mystery.

  He didn’t want to scare Mr Yamamoto with big, expensive proposals involving rocket launches and complex probes. Those could come later. Initially, his team could carry out experiments from Earth. The advances in scientific instrumentation over the past few years had been profound, although nothing could compare to sending an actual probe to the sun. Perhaps Mr Yamamoto would even be open to the idea of putting satellites into orbit around the sun. Over a prolonged period, the data they could gather and the advances to science would be immeasurable. Noticing his hands were beginning to tremble, Aaditya tucked them under his thighs and took a deep breath. This only seemed to focus his anxiety towards his stomach, which began to growl.

  He felt exhausted by the time they descended over a harbour town full of old English cottages, protected from the sea by castle-like storm defense walls. On the seafront, fishing trawlers, tenders and yachts bobbed in a walled harbour. The words ‘quintessentially English’ sprang to mind as he gazed across winding cobbled streets, lined with the antique shops, pubs and cafes, which he imagined to be full of quaint English folk sipping tea under framed pictures of the Queen.

  “This is Lyme Regis,” Tim said. “Like I said, the cliffs here are full of fossils. Rain and wind knocks them out all the time. You can find them just lying on the beach. The first ever plesiosaur skeleton was discovered a short distance down the coast, only two hundred years ago by a woman called Mary Anning. You know the Loch Ness Monster? Plesiosaurs are basically one of those. When Mary discovered it, the world thought it was a sea dragon. It caused quite the stir.”

  Aaditya simply nodded as they came into land, his anxiety intensifying. With the volume of information sloshing around in his brain, he felt that any moment now, his head would simply pop. Suddenly, the door beside him rolled open.

  “Dr Bashar, thank you so much for coming all this way so quickly. You do me a great honor.”

  Aaditya turned to see a cheerful looking Japanese man, dressed in blue jeans, deck shoes and a beige Lacoste Polo shirt, with sunglasses tucked into the neckline. Surely this wasn’t Mr Yamamoto? Where was his sharp suit and how come there was hardly any trace of Japanese in his accent? He almost sounded English.

  “I’m sorry, where are my manners,” the man said. “I’m Mr Yamamoto, junior. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He offered Aaditya a hand. “Please, call me Nori.”

  Aaditya made a daft croaking noise, then thrust out an arm and sprang from his seat, completely forgetting he was buckled in at the waist. The world flipped around and he found himself dangling upside down, with his hair brushing the sand and his cheeks filling with warm blood. A meeting with Mr Yamamoto’s shoes was far from the first impression he’d hoped to make. He willed the sun to explode and end his humiliation.

  “I’m so sorry for startling you,” Mr Yamamoto pleaded as Tim led them down the beach towards an enormous tent erected against the cliff wall.

  An army of smartly dressed Japanese businessmen encircled them as they walked. One of the men took notes and another kept his eyes fixed on Mr Yamamoto, perhaps in readiness to fulfil an impromptu request.

  “I can’t wait. See you in there,” Tim said, dashing off in the direction of the tent, whose sides fluttered in a warm breeze.

  “Are you sure you’re alright?” Mr Yamamoto continued. “Your hand looks sore. Looks like a seatbelt burn.”

  “Oh,” Aaditya said, surprised by the angry bluish-red stripe across the back of his hand. Now he noti
ced it, it did begin to hurt. “No, it’s fine,” he said, pushing the throbbing hand into his pocket. “It’s my fault. I get very ner…”

  “Nervous before meetings, I know,” Mr Yamamoto interrupted. “You’re not only famous for being an elite solar researcher, the best in your field. Had the situation not been so critical, I would have come to meet you personally, allayed your fears myself. Unfortunately, I needed to be here to make sure our discovery wasn’t some kind of hoax. We needed to be sure. I know you’re an important man and didn’t want to waste your valuable time.”

  “Well… uh… thank you,” Aaditya said, perplexed as to why Mr Yamamoto was paying him such high praise. What could the man possibly need from him, on a beach in England? “I don’t want to be rude, or push things along too fast, but why am I here? Looking at that tent I’m more convinced than ever I’m not going to be any help. I’m no archaeologist.”

  Mr Yamamoto turned and said something to one of the suited businessmen in his native tongue.

  “Hai,” the man responded with a quick bow.

  The man unzipped a brown leather document folder, fished out an A4 sheet and handed it to Mr Yamamoto.

  “Arigatō,” Mr Yamamoto said. “Dr Bashar, do you recognise this?”

  Aaditya took the sheet and examined it. It took only a fraction of a second to identify the spherical metallic object in the photograph.

  “Sure, it’s my probe, the Icarus Two. The core anyway. The actual probe we sent to the sun had various layers of heat shielding, ceramics and other pieces, you know, so it could get as close to the surface as possible. We lost contact after a few million miles into the Corona, which was no surprise. The sun’s atmosphere is upwards of a million degrees Celsius. The fact that we got as close as we did was incredible. Amazing fact, did you know the surface of the sun is relatively cool? Surprisingly it’s…”

  “I know,” Mr Yamamoto interrupted. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but there are time factors at play. Are you positive that picture is of the Icarus Two?”