Danger: Dinosaurs!

Chapter 18 Home Again

Chuck stood on the ledge for a long time. He looked down at Denise, cradled in Dr. Dumar’s arms, sobbing gently. He glanced again at Masterson, a broken man with broken dreams. His eyes wandered to Allosaurus, the blood still gushing from his enormous head. The scavenger reptiles were already scrambling over the rocks, heading for the dead hulk, ready to tear it to pieces.

He looked toward the horizon, far out over the land. The sky was clear. The sun slanted down in fanlike rays, bathing the land in a golden wash of warmth. His eyes roamed past the boulders, past the rock-strewn clearing, past the bordering fringe of shrubbery, past the deeper greenery beyond that.

He opened his eyes wider.

His mouth came unhinged and his features fought the grin that tried desperately to form on his face. A shout rose in his throat, strangled itself. He wanted to laugh wildly and cry hysterically, and all he could do was stand there and shiver like an autumn leaf on a shedding tree.

Far off in the distance, looking like the outline of a postage stamp on the ground, was the white square that had been painted to mark off the exact relay area! “Hey!” he shouted. “Hey! We’ve found it!” He pointed wildly, looking down at Arthur, Dr. Perry and Pete as they ran across the clearing. “What?” Arthur yelled. “What, Chuck?”

“The rendezvous site! Over that way! We’ll get home, after all!”

His wrist watch said one o’clock.

They had traveled until dusk and then stopped for the night, because they did not want to lose their way by wandering hopelessly in the darkness. On the morning of the seventh day they had started their trek again — and now it was one o’clock.

Chuck glanced at his watch briefly. One o’clock. If they did not reach the relay area by two o’clock...

Doggedly, he led the party forward.

He tried not to think of the time limit imposed on the party. Instead, he tried to formulate the nature of the report he would make to the authorities. Somehow, though, the report did not seem very important. Someone named Masterson had paid for the expedition. But Masterson was dead.

He found it difficult to remember much about the man, although he knew that he should, because he did, after all, have to make a report. Somewhat vaguely, his mind struggled with the concept of Masterson’s and Gardel’s deaths. He knew he had thought over this very same problem not too long ago — but he didn’t know why. He understood clearly that Masterson and Gardel had ceased to exist long before they had been born — and he knew that the time stream would therefore make adjustments to account for their nonexistence. He knew, too, that eventually he would completely forget that either of the two men had existed. He knew this with a dead certainty. Yet he did not know why he knew it. He accepted it calmly as a fact. His store of experience told him that he had encountered this very same situation — or a parallel one — sometime not too long ago. He could not remember what that situation had been. He knew, though, that the memory of Masterson would fade, that he and his gaunt assistant would slowly slide into oblivion, leaving a completely adjusted set of circumstances, a set of circumstances that discounted the existence of the two men, that substituted a completely new train of events.

The idea was a strange one, but a familiar one. That he could not account for its familiarity did not disturb him.

He did wonder, however, how the time stream would adjust to Masterson’s absence. It would have to go all the way back, back to the beginnings, back to long before Chuck had even met the man. All traces of Masterson and Gardel would be erased, all contacts with any other men, all influences he may have had on the shaping of their characters or lives.

It was an elementary law. A thing cannot be and not be at the same time. Masterson had either existed or he had not existed. If he had died in the Jurassic, he could not have existed in modern times. And if he had not existed in modern times, then someone else had financed the expedition, someone else had hired Chuck.

Chuck did not know who that someone else could be.

Pete drew up alongside him and shook his head. “Chuck, I got a problem.”

Chuck glanced at his watch again. 1:10. Time was running out. Sifting through his hands like so many tiny particles of sand. At 2:00 p.m. the mechanism of the Time Slip would whir into operation. If they were within the white square, they would be jolted back to their own time. If they were not, the Slip would bring back nothing.

“What is it, Pete?” he asked.

“I keep feeling that somebody is missing from the party. That’s screwy, I know, because we’re all here. But something keeps tickling my mind. It says, ‘Master gone,’ or something like that. You know what I mean? I keep trying to remember clearly, but I can’t. It’s like something is slipping out of my mind and I can’t stop it.”

“I know what you mean, Pete.”

It was already happening. Masterson was sliding out of Pete’s memory, soon to be forgotten completely. And even as Chuck thought of the dead man, he found it difficult to remember what he’d worn, what he’d smoked-pipe, cigarette, cigar? What kind of voice did he have? He vaguely sensed that the man had caused a great deal of trouble, but all he could remember was the incident with Allosaurus. Even that was only an indistinct impression. Masterson in the beast’s jaws, Chuck firing wildly, blood spurting, death.

“I guess it’s nothing to worry about,” Pete said halfheartedly. “But still, it’s a funny feeling. Like I’m maybe losing my marbles.”

“You’re perfectly sane, Pete,” Chuck said. “I’d forget all about it if I were you.”

Pete laughed a little. “Looks like I’m going to forget all about it whether I want to or not. The darnedest part is that I can’t remember what I’m supposed to be forgetting!”

1:15.

1:20.

Time was a living thing. It slithered across the face of Chuck’s watch like a Jurassic reptile. It was just as deadly. It had no regard for Chuck or anyone in the group. It moved swiftly, blindly, oblivious to the torturous pace the party was keeping. It was not easy, this pace. It had never been easy. With time hovering over their heads like a deadly guillotine, it was more difficult.

They did not stop to rest.

They kept moving, the breath raging in their lungs. Their clothes were soaked with perspiration. Their faces were gaunt, their eyes sunken, flickering with doubt.

Chuck spoke to each of them briefly. He did not offer encouragement, did not bother with pep talks. He simply prodded them, kept them moving when they would have stopped, needled them the way a man would shove his cattle along a dusty road. In his brief talks he learned that Masterson had all but faded from their minds. He still did not know how the time stream had adjusted to Masterson’s nonexistence. If Masterson had not financed the expedition, someone had. Someone with a great deal of money. Who?

He didn’t know, and in a little while Masterson became a faint blur in his memory.

By 1:30 he could not remember Masterson at all.

1:30.

There was not much time now. There was not much time at all. He began to worry in earnest. The worry hung around him like a plague of insects nibbling at his mind, gnawing, biting, never letting him rest.

The white square. Where was it?

1:35.

The relay area. When?

1:40.

The rendezvous site. Please, please, please.

1:45.

At first they saw only the stegosaurs. Two of them. The creatures sat in the middle of a wide clearing. Their haunches squatted on the ground, their bony backs jutting up like mountain ranges, their spiked tails curled dangerously behind them.

He was almost ready to lead the party around them. That would be the safest thing to do, considering the fact that there wasn’t much time left. He looked at his watch. 1:50.

Something screamed danger in his mind. They had tangled with stegosaurs once before, he knew. He could not remember the exact incident. He only knew that the stegosaurs had been dangerous.

He was about to turn away when he saw plainly the area in which the stegosaurs were squatting. One of the beasts raised its head, but Chuck wasn’t looking at that. He was looking at the creature’s rump and at what the rump was partially covering.

A thick white line.

Realization came with a jolting shock!

The armor-plated dinosaurs were sitting in the relay area!

“Chuck, for the love of...”

“I know,” Chuck shouted. He looked at his watch. 1:53.

“They’re right inside the white square,” Pete said. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know.” He gulped hard. “I... I don’t know. We can’t get inside it as long as they’re in it.”

“What time is it?” Dr. Perry asked.

Chuck looked at his watch again, noticing that his arm was trembling. “One fifty-four,” he said.

“We must do something,” Dr. Dumar offered. “We have only six minutes, haven’t we?”

“Yes. Si-six minutes.”

“I’ll shoot them,” Arthur said. “I’ve done enough hunting in my life. I should be able to get them both without much trouble.”

Chuck shook his head. “Back-yard hunting isn’t going to help with these monsters.”

“Back yard?” Arthur looked surprised. “I’ve hunted in Africa, Chuck. I’ve killed rhinos and I can’t see much difference here.”

“Rhinos? Africa? You’ve...”

“What time is it?” Dr. Perry asked again.

“One fifty-five.”

“Let me shoot them,” Arthur said.

“No. We can’t kill them inside the square. That’ll mean lugging them back to our own time. We can’t do that. It’s...”

“Never mind the law. So we can’t bring back anything from the past. So what?” Pete’s face flushed with anger.

“Let me try something else first,” Chuck said. “If that doesn’t work, we’ll kill them on the spot. If we can.”

“What do you want to try?”

“I’ll try to get them out of the square. As soon as they’re out, you folks run down there and get into it. Arthur, you can pick them off from the square. Then I’ll get back and...”

“Suppose...”

“There isn’t much time. I’m starting. Get down there as soon as they’re out.”

“Chuck...” Denise started, but he didn’t wait for more. He sprinted across the clearing, coming closer to the huge, plated animals. He looked at his watch again. 1:57.

“Hoo-rah!” He shouted. “Hoorah! Hey, hey, hey!”

He began waving his arms wildly. The stegosaurs lifted their heads, stared at him stupidly. Without hesitation, Chuck unholstered his .45, released the safety and triggered off three fast shots.

The monsters lumbered to their feet.

“Come on!” Chuck bellowed. “Come on, you slow-witted idiots. Come on and get me!”

The beasts moved forward slowly, ponderously, still inside the square. Chuck fired again and again. Five shots. Two bullets left. And it was 1:58.

“Come on! Come on!”

And then they came. They came in a wild rush, a pair of Juggernauts that rumbled over the ground. Chuck began to run away from the stegosaurs, away from the white square of the relay area. From the corner of his eye he saw the party start across the clearing. He saw Arthur’s rifle leave his shoulder, saw that the expedition was already within the square.

The beasts were close behind him, infuriated, tearing up the earth, ready to trample him to nothingness.

The first shot rang out. He heard a dull sound behind him, followed by an animal roar. He turned his head briefly. One of the dinosaurs was down, rolling over onto its side.

The other charged ahead furiously, anxious to get at its slippery quarry.

That was when Chuck tripped.

He fell to his knees, rolling over instantly. The beast was no more than five feet away. Chuck took a last look at his watch, brought up his .45 and fired two shots. The hammer clicked on an empty clip. There was no time to reload. A prayer began to form on his lips.

The second shot from Arthur thundered out in serious earnestness.

It caught the stegosaur at the back of his neck, and his head pitched forward. His snout hit the ground, plowing up earth a few feet from Chuck’s face. The huge hulk seemed to shiver behind the head, quivering under the impact of the sudden stop. Before the beast rolled over, Chuck was on his feet and sprinting for the relay area.

“Hurry!” Arthur called.

He heard Denise moaning softly. “Chuck, Chuck, Chuck...”

His watch hands hovered between 1:59 and 2:00 p.m. A few seconds, just a few seconds.

“Chuck! Come on, boy!”

The ground seemed to slip by under his feet in a hazy blur. The white square was still so far away, so very far. And then the faces began to blur and the air began to shimmer around the square.

He ran and then dived, his arms outstretched. He hit the ground with a shock that sent the breath out of him.

Even as his mind told him that he had fallen short of the square, he felt a pair of powerful brown hands on his wrists, and he was being dragged violently across the ground, his skin scraping against the loose rocks and rough plants.

He tried to turn for a last look at the Jurassic. There was nothing to see any more. The land had been replaced by a flickering succession of colors and half-formed objects. He was safe within the square, and they were on their way home.

It seemed as if it had all never happened.

Here were his parents, his mother wet-eyed, his father proudly expanding his chest.

It had been just a routine return, until the authorities learned that Dr. Dumar and Dr. Perry had been found. The newspapers had been informed, then, and the TV newscasters.

The field was swarming with reporters now, flooded with TV trucks and commentators, microphones extended, cameras popping flash bulbs, excited crowds shoving at the knot of returning hunters.

“Tell me, Mr. Baron,” they asked, “are you glad you financed the expedition?”

“I certainly am.”

“You realize, of course, the importance of having found the missing scientists?”

“I do. I’ve been on many an exciting hunt in my lifetime — but this was the most exciting of all.”

For a moment Chuck didn’t know whom they were addressing. He turned, a puzzled frown on his face. The frown disappeared as he remembered who had financed the expedition. Of course, flow could he have forgotten? Of course. The expedition had been financed by...

“That, ladies and gentlemen,” the newscaster said, “was Mr. Arthur Baron, the millionaire big-game hunter who financed this time slip to the Jurassic. Mr. Baron, of course, needs no introduction. You will all remember the spectacular headlines at the death of J. D. Daniels, the multimillionaire sportsman. Mr. Daniels left his entire fortune to be divided equally between two men who had served him loyally for ten years. One of these men was Arthur Baron.”

Chuck smiled. Of course. Arthur. Of course.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, a few words with the lost scientists, Dr. Dumar and Dr. Perry. Tell me, Dr. Perry, did you ever give up...”

The voices became a hum that swarmed around Chuck. He listened, nodding his head, answering the questions his parents put to him, feeling happy, warm.

Denise’s parents were there, too — her mother a small blonde woman with Denise’s warm brown eyes and pretty face. Her father was a tall, serious man, and he took Chuck’s hand gravely.

“Thank you, son,” he said. “I was mighty worried for a time.”

“What do you think now, Denise?” her mother asked.

“About what, mother?” Denise was smiling happily.

“Well, you insisted on permission to take a time slip. You said you had to decide whether or not you wanted to enter the special course for guides. You...”

“Nothing could change my mind now,” Denise said. “I love it.” She took Chuck’s hand and squeezed it tightly. He looked down at her and grinned.

Of course! he thought. That was why Denise had been along on the slip. The authorities had given her special permission — they said that girl guides could be as effective as men, and would certainly know how to cope better with the female element. In fact, they had encouraged Denise’s presence, arguing that a girl in the guide course would encourage other girls to enter. He wondered why he was seemingly realizing all this for the first time, but he shrugged his doubts aside.

“We will have to go back again,” Dr. Dumar was saying. “This time we’ll pinpoint the deposit exactly, and this time we’ll return with a good map.”

“Yes,” Dr. Perry said. “And this time we’d like to take a good guide with us from the beginning, so that we won’t get lost. A guide like Chuck Spencer.”

Denise squeezed Chuck’s hand again, and he felt somehow proud, somehow more a man than he had a little while ago.

“Thank you, Drs. Dumar and Perry,” the newscaster was saying. “And now folks, the guide who brought the party back to civilization, the guide without whom the entire expedition would have failed — Chuck Spencer!”

There was applause. The crowd cheered. Slowly, his eyes filling with happy tears, Chuck stepped to the microphone.