Log Entry: Day 183
Sigh…
Owen sat before the camera, his gaze slightly vacant as if his thoughts had drifted to the horizon. After a long moment, he refocused on the lens to recount the day's events.
"Today... an employee fell into the paddock."
"We got him out, and the raptors didn't touch him. He quit anyway. I get it."
"Finding a new handler has to be a priority. Until then..."
Owen pulled a book into the frame. The title read: Postpartum Care for Sows.
"Feeding four sub-adult raptors is bleeding me dry. I'm starting to wonder if I came here to raise pigs."
He flipped through a few pages, looking pained, before tossing the book aside.
"Speaking of which... I had a new realization about the raptors today." After a brief respite from the sea of agricultural knowledge, his tone shifted to a professional log format.
"In the past, or at least in the eyes of most, dinosaurs were viewed like lizards. It was assumed they relied primarily on scent to identify prey and enemies, with eyes serving only as hunting aids."
"But today, Charlie didn't attack the handler, even though the man was covered in the pungent scent of pigs."
"It's a good sign, but it makes me wonder: can dinosaurs actually be domesticated? Or at least 'tamed'?"
"For Charlie, at least, he can clearly distinguish species. Unlike Blue's profound empathy, Charlie seems driven by a sort of... curiosity. A fascination with the unfamiliar."
"Maybe when he looked at that handler, he was thinking: 'You're clearly a human, so why do you smell like a pig?'"
Owen glanced at his wristwatch and looked up, past the camera.
"Barry, help me attach today's paddock surveillance footage to the end of the log."
He looked back at the lens one last time. "Alright, that's it for today. Next up is the footage from this afternoon..."
Before he could finish, the laptop screen went black, displaying a "Battery Low" icon. In the empty trailer, Owen had once again forgotten to plug in his computer.
…
"Relax. You're statistically more likely to be kicked to death by a horse than die in a plane crash."
The morning sun cast a sliver of warmth over the tarmac, rising alongside Zia's latest bit of trivia.
"Impossible. I don't ride horses. Therefore, my probability of being kicked to death is zero."
Franklin, the young man who frequently bickered with Zia, had joined the rescue mission. Together with Claire, they were preparing to board a private jet headed for Isla Nublar.
"Planes are the safest mode of transport, okay?"
"You call this a plane? My cousin's drone is bigger than this."
The two continued their usual banter. Standing by the cabin door, Claire scanned the distance as if waiting for someone to appear. After a long look, she turned and stepped inside.
Taking her seat, she took a deep breath, feeling the tension of the upcoming operation. Even for someone dedicated to dinosaur conservation, the fear they inspired never truly vanished. It was an instinctive stress response, much like the way the Indominus rex would involuntarily secrete fear-scents upon hearing Carlo's roar. Facing dinosaurs required immense courage.
Rustle...
Suddenly, there was movement on the long row of seats behind her, like bedding being folded.
"Owen?!"
She stared in shock as Owen sat up from the back row. How had she not noticed him back there?
Before she could say a word, Owen stole the initiative, acting as if he were the host and she the guest.
"I didn't think you'd make it."
He made it sound as though he had been the one waiting for her.
"Franklin, you coward, get on the plane!"
The bickering duo boarded next and also noticed Owen. Claire shook off her surprise and made the introductions.
"This is Zia Rodriguez."
Owen stood up and moved to a seat parallel to Claire's, shaking Zia's hand.
"Zia."
"Hey. How's it going?"
"Good. You?"
"Good."
Neither was the type to dawdle; the greeting was finished by the time they had clicked their seatbelts.
"And this is Franklin Webb. Systems Analyst."
Claire introduced the young man, who was currently lacking the confidence he usually felt behind a computer. He was fumbling with his seatbelt and clutching his briefcase, looking distinctly socially anxious.
"Are you afraid of flying?" Owen initiated.
"Uh... if someone gave you a horse that had been systematically abused for years, would you ride it?" Franklin replied with a question of his own, seemingly trying to gauge Owen's character.
"I once rode a motorcycle through a forest with a pack of raptors."
Franklin had considered many answers, but not that one. After a dull silence, he muttered:
"We are not going to get along."
Whirrr—
Outside the cabin, the propellers began to churn. The small private jet climbed into the sky, banking toward the rising sun.
…
Benjamin Lockwood sat on his bed, a heart rate monitor beeping softly beside him. He was alone in the exquisitely decorated room, a fact that lent a touch of loneliness to the warm-toned decor.
"To sacrifice so much for what you love... your dedication is truly admirable, Sir."
"I am merely doing a small, insignificant thing. It hardly compares to your monumental achievement of bringing dinosaurs back to life."
He was on the phone, exchanging professional pleasantries with the Official from the Primeval Ecological Zone, who had organized a parallel rescue effort.
"I'll follow your lead. My team will handle the south of the island, and the north will be left to your people."
The sound of sea spray crackled over the line; the Official had agreed to cooperate with Lockwood.
"I can see Isla Nublar now. I'll have to go. Stay healthy, Sir."
"Safe travels."
Lockwood hung up and looked back at the photo album spread across his lap, a faint, bitter smile touching his lips.
"Hi, Grandpa."
"Ah, you're here."
Lockwood's housekeeper, Iris, entered the room with Maisie Lockwood, the old man's granddaughter.
"Come here, sit with me for a while," the old man beckoned. Maisie obediently sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her grandfather.
"I traveled from the Cretaceous to the Jurassic all in one day!" (AN: Is your timeline running backward?)
"Impressive. And what did you see?"
"Mostly herbivores. They live peacefully by the lake with a family of Giganotosaurus. But then a Tyrannosaurus rex showed up, and things got really bloody."
Evidently, it was once again proven that anyone with even a passing interest in dinosaurs eventually found their way to Carlo.
"Iris saw it too. She was scared out of her wits."
Lockwood was moved to a smile by his granddaughter. With a hint of nostalgia, he said:
"You're just as spirited as your mother was."
Maisie had never met her mother. Unsure how to respond, she looked at the album in her grandfather's hands.
"Do I... look like her?"
Iris, who had served Lockwood for decades and knew Maisie's mother well, seemed to hold a secret as she glanced at the old man.
"Of course," Lockwood said, looking at Maisie. "You are practically her double."
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