"Did you see the latest update from the Giganotosaurus exhibit?"
"You mean the postcard? Yeah, I saw it. Just another way to rehash old tricks. I bought one exactly like it years ago."
"But I really want one..."
"Whatever. You Giga-fanboys need to dial it back."
By a fast-food restaurant, two college students with weary eyes, who had failed to snag a table, stood miserably in the shade, wolfing down their meals.
"Damn it, I should've come in the winter. This summer sun is a killer," the thinner one complained.
"If you came in the winter, you wouldn't see some of the dinosaurs," his slightly chubbier friend reminded him.
"True. You've got a point."
The thin man took a sip from his plastic cup, found it empty, and gave it a shake to confirm. Once satisfied it was bone-dry, he raised it over his head like he was lining up a jump shot and aimed for a distant trash can.
The cup flew from his hand, tracing a beautiful arc through the air, and then...
Thud!
Lowery Cruthers tossed his empty soda cup into the bin, watching Claire Dearing, who had come to the control room for an inspection, argue with someone on the other end of her phone.
Moments ago, Claire had entered to check on operations, only to be handed a file by an assistant. As she read, her brow furrowed, and finally, unable to restrain herself, she slammed the folder onto a desk.
Looks like the higher-ups are giving her another headache, Lowery thought. He straightened the toy dinosaurs on his desk and settled in to watch the show.
"Beep... bloop..." Claire dialed, fully intending to ask her boss if he had recently suffered a mental breakdown.
As the Operations Manager, she was the one Simon Masrani entrusted with the park's oversight, knowing he lacked the patience for management. Ten minutes ago, she had been reveling in the fact that the park was stable and the boss hadn't pulled any stunts. Little did she know, after a few months of silence, he was about to drop a bombshell.
"Hey, Claire. You'd better make it quick; I'm about to board my friend's helicopter. Do you think I should get a pilot's license?" Simon, anticipating her call, spoke with a dismissive, breezy tone.
"Mr. Masrani, might I ask what this 'Primeval Ecological Zone' is all about?" Claire's voice was polite and her face wore a smile, but she gave off the distinct aura of someone who might commit a felony for fun in the next ten seconds.
"Oh, that. The dinosaur roster has already been decided. Wu has it; you can coordinate with him." The background noise on Simon's end was filled with the rhythmic thrum of helicopter rotors. "As for the environment, I've invited some world-renowned experts to perform a site survey."
"That's not what I'm talking about." Claire's tone turned sharp. "Did you even consider the costs? And where exactly are we supposed to put a sanctuary that large?"
"Hey, isn't there a plot right next to the Gyrosphere Valley? Just put it there. We'll set up some perimeter walls and electric fences to isolate it. As for the cost..." Simon paused. "I never worry about losing money. I only worry about spending money on things that don't matter."
Claire's retort died in her throat.
"And how to make that money matter... well, that's your job to figure out," Simon said casually. Then, as if remembering something: "Oh, right. Remind Dr. Wu that I need to see results on that transgenic dinosaur project. That's all. Bye-bye."
Click. Beep... beep... beep...
Claire took a deep breath and sighed. At least the boss hadn't demanded that the project be profitable immediately, or she really would have been breaking a sweat.
"Everything okay?" Lowery asked, pretending to be hard at work.
"It's a disaster..." Claire leaned her head on her hand, looking dejected. "Mr. Masrani suddenly wants to build an ecological zone that recreates the world of 65 million years ago."
An Ecological Zone! Lowery's eyes lit up. He felt a sudden surge of respect for his "evil capitalist" boss. As a man who worshipped dinosaurs, this concept hit him right in the soul.
Praise be to the boss, he thought, giving a secret thumbs-up. He made sure not to do it openly, though, as he didn't want to become the target of Claire's frustration.
"Hm?" A red warning light flashed on the monitor. These alerts usually triggered when a dinosaur's tracker acted up or a camera caught something unusual.
"Giganotosaurus... Sector 5... suspected drowning?" Lowery tensed up, immediately switching the feed to the alerted camera.
Then he saw it.
He saw Carlo taking a bath.
Stupid mud, Carlo cursed in his mind. He was currently covered in filth. While he wasn't a neat freak, the feeling of caked-on grime made his skin crawl.
Why was he so dirty? Because while chasing a butterfly, he had accidentally rolled head-first into a mud pit.
Why was he chasing a butterfly? Please! Being able to catch a butterfly with your bare hands (or mouth) is the ultimate sign of explosive power and agility. It's an honor reserved for the strong!
However, the butterfly was cunning. It had forced Carlo to resort to his "Super Secret Sneak Attack" method.
Of course, not only did the sneak attack fail, but he had ended up face-planting in the muck. It was an utter disgrace to the Giganotosaurus name.
Sigh. I, Master Carlo, am simply too kind-hearted to see a fragile life extinguished. If I had actually caught it, it probably would have died. Yes, I'm just too virtuous. Unable to admit defeat, Carlo leaned heavily into the spirit of self-delusion.
I might lose the physical battle, but on a spiritual level, I am UNBEATABLE!
Speaking of which, something interesting happened today. He had finally given his father a name: Debby. Because the guy was just so... well, derpy.
Earlier that morning, "Debby" had found the provided goat and tried to call Carlo over to learn how to hunt. However, Carlo's mother had shut that down immediately, claiming the child was still too young.
At that moment, the look in Debby's eyes revealed a level of "pure, unadulterated stupidity."
Huh? Too young? I remember catching small animals when I was his size. Why is this kid still drinking milk every day?
Clearly, Debby had forgotten the fact that his son was only two days old.
"Aonnnn—"
A low bellow echoed from the distance. It was his mother, Caroline, calling him for a meal. She called him whenever her milk came in. Perhaps because she had lost his four siblings, she poured every ounce of her maternal instinct into him.
It feels good to be loved this much, Carlo thought with a smug little chirp.
He shook the water and mud off his body, let out a responsive growl, and began sprinting back toward his mother.