Jurassic Park / Парк Юрского периода. Майкл Крайтон

head.

      After the Bowmans had departed, Dr. Cruz decided to report this conversation to Guitierrez, at the biological station.

      “I must admit the girl’s story is puzzling,” Guitierrez said. “I have been doing some checking myself. I am no longer certain she was bitten by a basilisk. Not certain at all.”

      “Then what could it be?”

      “Well,” Guitierrez said, “let’s not speculate prematurely. By the way, have you heard of any other lizard bites at the hospital?”

      “No, why?”

      “Let me know, my friend, if you do.”

      The next day Marty Guitierrez found the remains of a lizard sat on the beach of Cabo Blanco, near the spot where the American girl had been, two days before. Guitierrez decided to send it to the United States for final positive identification. The acknowledged expert was Edward H. Simpson, emeritus professor of zoology at Columbia University, in New York. Probably, Marty thought, he would send his lizard to Dr. Simpson.

      New York

      Dr. Richard Stone, head of the Tropical Diseases Laboratory of Columbia University was unprepared for what he received that morning.

      The white plastic cylinder was the size of a half-gallon milk container, it had locking metal latches and a screw top. Inside he found a plastic sandwich bag, containing something green. Stone spread a surgical drape on the table and shook out the contents of the bag. A piece of frozen flesh struck the table with a dull thud.

      “Huh,” the technician said. “Looks eaten.”

      “Yes, it does,” Stone said. “What do they want with us?”

      The technician consulted the enclosed documents. “Lizard is biting local children. They have a question about identification of the species, and a concern about diseases transmitted from the bite.” She produced a child’s picture of a lizard, signed TINA at the top. “One of the kids drew a picture of the lizard.”

      Stone glanced at the picture. “Obviously we can’t verify the species,” Stone said. “But we can check diseases easily enough, if we can get any blood out of this fragment. What are they calling this animal?”

      “ ‘Basiliscus amoratus with three-toed genetic anomaly,’ ” she said, reading.

      “Okay,” Stone said. “Let’s get started. Do an X-ray and take Polaroids for the record. Once we have blood, start running antibody sets until we get some matches.”

      Before lunchtime, the lab had its answer: the lizard blood showed no significant reactivity to any viral or bacterial antigen. They had run toxicity profiles as well, and they had found only one positive match: the blood was mildly reactive to the venom of the Indian king cobra. They faxed the answer to Dr. Martin Guitierrez that same evening.

      Martin Guitierrez read the fax from the Columbia Medical Center/Tropical Diseases Laboratory.

      Guitierrez made two assumptions. First, that his identification of the lizard as a basilisk had been confirmed by scientists at Columbia University. And second, that the absence of communicable disease meant the recent episodes of sporadic lizard bites implied no serious health hazards for Costa Rica.

      It was nearly midnight in the clinic in Bahia Anasco when the midwife Elena Morales heard a squeaking, chirping sound. Thinking that it was a rat, she quickly put a compress on the forehead of the mother and went into the next room to check on the newborn baby. As her hand touched the doorknob, she heard the chirping again, and she relaxed. Evidently it was just a bird. Costa Ricans said that when a bird came to visit a newborn child, it brought good luck.

      Elena opened the door. The infant lay in a wicker bassinet, wrapped in a light blanket, only its face exposed. Around the rim of the bassinet, three dark-green lizards crouched like gargoyles. When they saw Elena, they cocked their heads and stared curiously at her, but did not flee. In the light of her flashlight Elena saw that blood dripped from their snouts. Softly chirping, one lizard bent down and, with a quick shake of its head, tore a ragged chunk of flesh from the baby.

      Elena rushed forward, screaming, and the lizards fled into the darkness. But long before she reached the bassinet, she could see what had happened to the infant’s face, and she knew the child must be dead. The lizards scattered into the rainy night, chirping and squealing, leaving behind only bloody three-toed tracks, like birds.

      Elena Morales decided not to report the lizard attack: she left the baby alone in the room. So she reported the death as SIDS: sudden infant death syndrome. This was a syndrome of unexplained death among very young children.

      The university lab in San Jose that analyzed the saliva sample from Tina Bowman’s arm made several remarkable discoveries. There was, as expected, a great deal of serotonin. But among the salivary proteins was a real monster, one of the largest proteins known. Biological activity was still under study, but it seemed to be a neurotoxic poison related to cobra venom, although more primitive in structure.

      The lab also detected trace quantities of the enzyme that was a marker for genetic engineering, and not found in wild animals, technicians assumed it was a lab contaminant and did not report it when they called Dr. Cruz, the physician in Puntarenas.

      The lizard fragment rested in the freezer at Columbia University; a technician named Alice Levin walked into the Tropical Diseases Laboratory, looked at Tina Bowman’s picture, and said, “Oh, whose kid drew the dinosaur?”

      “What?” Richard Stone said, turning slowly toward her.

      “The dinosaur. Isn’t that what it is? My kid draws them all the time.”

      “This is a lizard,” Stone said. “From Costa Rica. Some girl down there drew a picture of it.”

      “No,” Alice Levin said, shaking her head. “Look at it. It’s very clear. Big head, long neck, stands on its hind legs, thick tail. It’s a dinosaur.”

      “It can’t be. It was only a foot tall.”

      “So? There were little dinosaurs back then,” Alice said. “Believe me, I know. I have two boys, I’m an expert. The smallest dinosaurs were under a foot. Teenysaurus or something, I don’t know. Those names are impossible. You’ll never learn those names if you’re over the age of ten.”

      “You don’t understand,” Richard Stone said. “This is a picture of a contemporary animal. They sent us a fragment of the animal. It’s in the freezer now.” Stone went and got it, and shook it out of the bag.

      Alice Levin looked at the frozen piece of leg and tail, and shrugged. She didn’t touch it. “I don’t know,” she said. “But that looks like a dinosaur to me.”

      Stone continued to shake his head. Alice was uninformed; she was just a technician who worked in the bacteriology lab down the hall. And she had an active imagination.

      “Well, take it to the Museum of Natural History or something,” Alice Levin said. “You really should.”

      “No,” Richard Stone said. “I won’t.”

      He put the bag back in the freezer and slammed the door. “It’s not a dinosaur, it’s a lizard. That’s final, Alice. This lizard’s not going anywhere.”

      SECOND EPISODE

      The Shore of the Inland Sea

      Alan Grant crouched down, his nose inches from the ground. The temperature was over a hundred degrees. His knees ached, his lungs burned from the dust. Sweat dripped off his forehead. But Grant didn’t notice it. His entire attention was focused on the six-inch square of earth in front