His eyes took all this in, and he was filled with a deep sense of wonder and awe. He knew, though, that this was merely the stage. The actors were still in the wings, waiting to put in an appearance. The blurred shadows he had seen on the edge of the force field, the bulky, ponderous, slow-moving shapes-these were what made Jurassic times. The reptiles.
He looked at the plants again and tried to visualize a stegosaur nibbling on the foliage, or a sauropod trampling over leaves, its long neck bobbing. He did not succeed. To him, the creatures were still something out of the imagination, something the scientists had thrown together from a few theories and a few old bones. He knew all the names, yes, and he had a mental picture of each of the beasts-but that was as far as it went. Unconsciously, his mind drew a line between fancy and reality. The bones, the books, the theories were all part of reality. The restored figures of the giant reptiles were still fancy to Chuck. They would remain fancy until he had seen them.
Somehow, he did not look forward to it. He had cherished the fantasy of the monsters, carried it in a secret pocket of his mind, the way he had carried a toad to school every day when he was twelve years old. He had the uneasy feeling that the theories would all be proved wrong, that the monsters would turn out to be tiny lizards instead of gigantic beasts. He did not want the dream to be shattered and he was not overly eager to put the theories to the test.
“What’s so terribly special about this?” Masterson asked, breaking the silence. “This could be Africa or any other wilderness.”
“It could be,” Owen said softly, “but it isn’t. This is America, Mr. Masterson. America many, many years before the first man put in his appearance.”
“That’s what I’d like to see,” Pete said, his green eyes twinkling. “A real cave man.”
“You’ll find no men in Jurassic times,” Owen said.
“As far as we can tell, the first man appeared in the Cenozoic, about 99 million years from now.”
“Cenozoic? What’s that mean?” Gardel asked.
“It means ‘Recent Life.’ In our own time, Man was only one million years old, you must remember. But we’re not in our own time any more. It’ll be a long, long while before Man shows up.”
“We should have gone to the Cenozoic, then,” Masterson said. “I’d have liked to see a cave man, too.”
“Time slips to any time inhabited by Man are forbidden by law,” Owen said simply.
“That’s a shame,” Arthur said, shaking his massive head. “Primitive man must have been interesting.”
“Please keep quiet, Arthur,” Masterson said.
The flicker of anger sparked again in Arthur’s eyes. He seemed about to speak, then he turned his head away. But not before Chuck had seen the hurt look settle on his dark features. Chuck turned to Masterson, anxious to learn what had provoked the sudden attack on the Negro. Masterson’s eyes were blank. He had already forgotten what he’d said.
He pointed off to the dim figures in the distance. “Are those our game?” he asked.
“Yes,” Owen said, his voice a little brisk. Chuck knew that his brother had heard Masterson’s slur, too. Owen hadn’t liked it either.
“Well,” Masterson said, “this is supposed to be a hunt, so let’s get started. This time is costing me a pile of money.”
“It’s for a good cause, Mr. Masterson,” Owen said.
“Really? What cause is that?”
“The funds we collect from private hunting expeditions enable us to finance scientific expeditions. We’ve learned an awful lot about the past by…”
“Yeah, well let’s go take a look at those animals,” Masterson interrupted.
He strode over to the jeep and climbed in behind the wheel.
“Before we move from this spot,” Owen said, “we’d better mark it. Did you bring the paint I asked for?”
“Sure,” Masterson said, twisting the ignition key. “It’s in the truck.” Owen walked over to the truck, lifted the flap, and began rummaging around.
“Right near the tailgate,” Masterson said quickly. “Don’t go upsetting everything.”
“I’ve got it,” Owen called. He pulled his head from the canvas covering, emerging with a can of white paint and a brush. He pried the lid off the can, dipped the brush into the paint and began painting a large white square on the ground. “This will mark our spot,” he said. He looked at his watch. “We’ve been here about ten minutes now, which puts our time of arrival at about two p.m. We’ve got to be back in this same spot one week from today at exactly that time. They’ll slip us forward to the present, then.”
“To the present?” Gardel asked.
“Well, to the future, really. I meant, to the present we were accustomed to.”
“Come on,” Masterson said. “Let’s get rolling.” He started the jeep, gunned it forward. “You can follow in the truck. I’m anxious for a look.”