Dinosaur World Omnibus Read online

  “If we took the buggy,” Allen said, “we could cover a lot more ground than just a couple of miles.”

  “If you think it best. Who knows, we might even see a couple of dinosaurs along the way.”

  Allen laughed. “Still after your dinosaurs, eh, sir?”

  “We all want something from this world, lad. Just so long as Ms Garrel gets her pretty baubles, I think we can spare a few moments for me to watch some dinosaurs roam in the wild.”

  Allen knew it was not too much to ask, especially if Monroe was willing to accompany him. And if it was just a look Monroe was after, nor could Allen see any actual harm. In fact Allen was more than willing to scratch some backs if it got him those jewels.

  “Are we going to have to steal the buggy?” Allen asked, not much liking the idea of having to lie to Travers or distract her in any way.

  “Don’t be silly, lad. My money’s financed this dig. I own the buggy.” He grinned and slapped Allen on the back. “You worry too much about silly things, boy. We’re not planning murder or anything. And maybe we’ll even bring a little something back for Travers herself, no?”

  That made Allen feel a little better, and while he knew it was just a hollow justification it would perhaps even bring a smile to Travers’s face.

  There was nothing they could do about it while the storm raged outside, however, and so once the two men had finished their tea Allen retired to his own room. The camp may have been formed of solid walls, but the rain battered the structure with such ferocious intensity that he could almost imagine a cold sentience to the storm. With the carnivorous animals growing so large on this world he could well imagine why the weather itself was so violent.

  Allen spent the night in a fitful slumber. The rain was not the only thing that kept him from doing more than dozing, for his thoughts turned always towards the image of Sara Garrel. Come morning, Allen was therefore far from rested, although his adrenalin and purpose drove him on and he knew he would be able to accomplish much throughout the day. He did not even understand why he was so infatuated with Garrel. It had to be more than just the fact that she was the first real woman he had even fallen for. He had often wondered lately whether he was even in love, but since he had never before been in love he could not say what it felt like. He had of course heard all the clichés about butterflies and not eating and whatever, but Allen had never been one for cliché. He realised as well that he did not know all that much about her, had not even known she was divorced until the day before. He found himself curious now as to what her ex-husband was like, and why they had become divorced. They were things he would likely never discover, unless Garrel herself told him, and that was hardly going to happen. Still, stranger things had likely happened on this quarantined world.

  Come morning, the bad weather had subsided slightly. The ground was muddy from the storm, and there was still a light rain in the air, but not enough to hamper their journey. Allen packed some supplies: food, ammunition and some small pieces of equipment he felt they might need. He met Monroe by the buggy, and noted he did not appear to have brought much of anything aside from vigour and excitement. Allen shoved his back into the back of the buggy and noted Monroe was seating himself on the passenger side. The buggy was a hard-wearing contraption formed of what appeared to be a skeletal metal structure. The four wheels were large, about a metre in diameter, and there was a spare tyre in the back compartment. The buggy was entirely open to the air, with two seats at the front and two in the back, with a small amount of storage space in the rear. It did not look like it would be able to survive the harsh environments of Ceres, but it had been designed with just such terrains in mind. It was a prime example, Allen thought, of appearances being deceiving.

  “Have you told the others what we’re doing?” Allen asked. “Taking the buggy out, I mean.”

  “They know we’re going out, yes.”

  Allen did not know why, but he was not all that certain he believed the answer. But nor would he call the man a liar to his face. He had known for some time that Monroe was eager to see the dinosaurs, but could not believe he would risk upsetting the delicate social balance they had in their camp. With only the four of them on Ceres they could not risk annoying one another, because then life would become unbearable.

  They drove out of the immediate area of the camp and followed the rocky terrain, circumventing the woodland entirely. The noise of the buggy’s engine would keep the predators back, and any animal curious enough to approach would not recognise the two people within the machine: they would simply see a bulky, four-legged beast bellowing and moving at the speed of a charging pachyderm. The trees themselves were tall and thin and Allen did not know what they were called but suspected they had been around during prehistoric times. Prehistory was always a term he had never understood, for surely it was still history, just because there were no humans around back then to record it. He could only guess that this was the distinction: that humans considered history to be something of their own making. It was ironic then that humans would interfere with Ceres, which by their own distinction of terms had nothing to do with their species.

  Allen thought about Ceres while he drove. He knew their mission was to discover how long the world had been here, but he could not see why it mattered so much. Even if they could pinpoint the exact date of the world’s creation, figure out who put the world together and therefore who technically owned it, he could not think what it would achieve.

  “That would depend on the answer,” Monroe said when Allen brought it up.

  “For argument’s sake, let’s say it turned out you owned Ceres.”

  “Me?” Monroe laughed.

  “What would you do with the world?”

  “Well, I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it before. I guess I’d set up a summer house here, bring the family for excursions. Maybe arrange some incredibly expensive tourist trips for people to see the dinosaurs. But not so many that the world became overrun with fast-food chains and people’s litter.”

  Allen did not like the thought of Ceres being turned into a huge amusement park, but even as Monroe spoke he felt his idea was nowhere near as bad as what could come from their findings. “If one of the big corporations discovers they own it,” Allen said, “they could break down the world and use it for its resources. Exterminate the wildlife or capture them and ship them off to private zoos.”

  “It would be their legal right, although there would be so much red tape it would take a hundred years to sort through.”

  “Still, it could happen.”

  Monroe shrugged. “Yes. Actually, most of the possible outcomes would be very bad indeed. If you want to save Ceres the best hope would be for it to turn out that it belongs to some charity or other, or a government which has strong drives to preserve nature. Not that there’s anything natural about Ceres.”

  Allen was about to argue, but knew what he was saying was true. Whatever the truth, someone had pieced Ceres together and populated it with animals. Unless the religious orders were correct and God had taken a second stab at Creation, Ceres was no more natural than silver balls on ice cream.

  Beyond the woodland were vast plains, and as they drove Allen could see the far horizon was lined with a row of misty mountains which more resembled a mirage than a solid barrier to the world. He knew they were more miles away than the buggy could take them even on a full tank, but they still seemed massive to his eyes and he could only wonder at their actual size. Even the largest, most fearsome dinosaur hunting in their valleys would be nothing more than a speck against the smallest of those distant peaks.

  “How far do you want to go?” Allen asked.

  “Depends where the dinosaurs are.”

  Allen glowered at him and Monroe grinned once more, but did not verbally tell him he was just joking.

  “There’s hard ground up ahead, I hear,” Monroe said. “Rocks with jagged edges. That’s a likely place for the ground to have come apart during quakes, so we
may find some interesting things there.”

  Allen could see where he was indicating and relaxed slightly when he realised Monroe did actually know what he was talking about. There was indeed an area of rough terrain and Allen estimated they could be there within the hour. They had taken an hour already to skirt the woodland, which meant if they could find the gems quickly they would not have been away from the encampment for too long at all. In fact, things seemed to be going in their favour.

  Glancing in his wing mirror Allen did a double-take when he saw something behind them on the plains. It filled the mirror, dust churning beneath its feet even as it was being kicked up by the buggy. He recognised the huge bulbous shape, knew well the strong armoured spikes, and feared the animal was far larger than the tiny thing the mirror made it out to be.

  “Uh, sir?” Allen stammered, his heart stopping, his wide eyes staring straight ahead. “You wanted to see a dinosaur? How about a triceratops?”

  “A triceratops?” Monroe asked eagerly, straining at his seat belt. “Where?”

  Allen could find no further words and shoved a thumb behind him. Monroe turned his head and his seemingly perpetual grin failed him at last. He sat back down in his chair, hard, and seemed to shrink visibly. “Put your foot down, lad.”

  Allen obeyed, and he glanced into the mirror to see that no distance at all had been gained. The triceratops seemed angrier than ever now that they had forced it to increase its speed, and Allen could not imagine what was driving it forward.

  Monroe apparently sensed his thoughts. “We’re a large body charging across its terrain,” he explained as calmly as he could. Indeed Monroe seemed to have overcome the initial shock to be able to think straight once more. “It sees us as a rival. If we prove ourselves quicker than the triceratops, it will tear us apart.”

  “If we stop it’ll tear us apart.”

  “No argument here. Watch out!”

  Allen had not reckoned upon the sheer speed of the beast and it was upon the buggy before he could even think about reacting. Allen felt the entire buggy jolt and looked to the side to see the triceratops slamming the side of its head into the rear of the vehicle. The back of the buggy rose a metre from the ground but thankfully did not lose pace at all.

  Allen could see the dinosaur in all its glory now. The huge bulbous body was like that of a rhinoceros, charging upon four thick, powerful legs. A weighty but relatively small tail would have been swaying back and forth at the rear of the beast, although Allen could not see that far back since the creature was so huge. At almost ten metres long and weighing in at something approach five tonnes, Allen knew it was a male – a T. prorsus – which gave value to the theory that it was protecting its territory against an assumed threat to its dominance. The great head of the beast was formed of a long, bulky snout, culminating in a beak perfectly designed to snap off delicious ferns but which would easily take off a human arm if one got in the way. From the rear of its head there erupted a massive frill, formed of reinforced bone. The frill offered protection to the animal’s back and throat, although its main purpose was in attracting a mate, for tiny veins flew across the frill which burst crimson when blood was pumped through. Upon the end of its snout was a horn the size of Allen’s forearm, while between the eyes there exploded two incredibly lengthy horns, far larger and thicker, which could offer the creature protection from predators but which were more often used in clashing against rivals, at least for the males.

  Allen knew very little about dinosaurs, but he had learned a great deal about the various ceratopsian inhabitants of Ceres. The triceratops was the largest of them all and without a doubt the one he would have least chosen to face while driving desperately away in an unprotected vehicle.

  The creature struck again and Allen heard something tear at the rear of the buggy. The triceratops roared – perhaps in triumph, perhaps in pain – and the buggy gave a sputter. Thick black smoke bellowed from the vehicle, hurtling into the dinosaur’s face, making the creature slow its attack in confusion. Whatever ichor it had expected to erupt forth from the wound, this thick, oily mist certainly had not been it, and Allen hoped the momentary confusion would offer them some respite.

  The buggy began to slow and he realised the triceratops must have torn through something vital. He knew nothing about the mechanics of a buggy, however, and could not say what had been shorn through; it could well have been anything from the engine to the fuel tank. The vehicle was still careening forward at immense speeds, but he knew it would not last long.

  The two men slammed forward in their seats as they were struck once more from behind. Allen saw the ground coming towards him and braced himself as the vehicle overturned, striking grass and spinning in the air to hammer into the ground once more. He caught vague snippets of the image of the triceratops as it smashed into the buggy with its massive horns, tearing great chunks from the machine even as it careened to a stop, its wheels facing the air. Allen and Monroe were kept into their seats by their belts, their heads inches from the ground, and they gazed around them in fear. They had stopped moving, but the powerful odour of fuel was assaulting them and they knew they had to get away. Allen tested his limbs. He ached all over but could find nothing broken, and knew just how lucky he had been. Glancing across to Monroe he could see the man in a similar state of mind and could only imagine that he too had escaped relatively unscathed.

  “That was lucky,” Allen said.

  Then the sound of twisting metal tore through their world as something large and heavy pounded atop the overturned vehicle. Allen felt the entire vehicle pushing down upon him, but the pressure eased and his heart began to beat once more.

  The pounding repeated and Allen realised the triceratops was slamming its feet upon the base of the overturned buggy, trying to flatten the thing and kill them both. If they did not do something soon they would both be killed for certain.

  He could no longer see Monroe. If he was dead he was dead and there was nothing Allen could do to help him, but even if he was still alive Allen had to get himself out of the ruined vehicle first. He had some vague idea about luring the colossus from the buggy and returning for Monroe, but quickly dismissed the thought as idiocy brought on by the adrenalin rush of being so close to death.

  Again the feet crashed down upon the buggy and Allen felt the metal pressing dangerously hard upon his spine. The shock pushed him out of his state of fear and he fell forward with a jolt, his fingers having unconsciously been working to unstrap his seatbelt. He landed heavily, his forehead striking a metal bar which should not have been there. He was aware that his body was aching, that the wet stinging in his leg meant he had torn something, but the leg still moved so he could not afford to let it slow him. Working furiously, he saw daylight to his right and scrambled madly for it. The hole was tight, but Allen forced himself through regardless, thankful the buggy was formed of merely a skeletal metal structure and contained neither roof nor sides to speak of.

  Here any thoughts of fleeing or luring the beast away died in his adolescent flight of fancy and he pressed his back against the buggy as he stared at the massive bulk of the monster. He knew from his reading and the digging up of bones that the beast would have been around ten metres in length, but seeing one whose body was filled out with flesh was vastly different to picking over the various bones which made up its carcass. He could only imagine how tall the thing was, but judging by his own cowering insignificance he would have said the creature was at least four metres from the ground. Just one of its legs was the same height and thickness of Allen himself.

  Out in the open, Allen found he could not even move now. His heroism had deserted him and he simply stared in equal parts horror and awe at the mighty triceratops with its forelegs resting upon the overturned buggy. The animal appeared to have lost some of its ire now, and Allen could see it calming. Raising itself from the crushed vehicle, the triceratops dropped once more to the ground, snorted at the defeated adversary and wandered off. Its dominanc
y had been established and any females in the vicinity would have seen how the bull had dealt severely with the interloper. The buggy would not be mating with any of the herd’s females now.

  Allen stood for several moments, staring after the departing Goliath, until he finally remembered Monroe was still lying in the bottom of the buggy. Dropping to his knees, Allen peered through the wreckage and could just see Monroe stirring.

  “You all right, sir?” he called.

  Monroe grunted, holding his head and looking a little bleary-eyed. “I’m alive, so that’s something.”

  “Hold on.”

  It took some time, but Allen found a metal bar which had been sheared off the buggy and he used it for a brace. Between the two of them they finally managed to get Monroe extracted from the dead machine, and they collapsed against it in exhaustion. Both men were covered in sweat and blood, their faces grimy through the mud and spilled fuel. The only bright aspect Allen could see was that it had stopped raining at some point, and he hadn’t even realised.

  “I prefer,” Allen rasped, breathing hard, “studying their bones in the lab.”

  A change came across Monroe then as he remembered just what had placed them in such a predicament to begin with. “The triceratops, lad. Where is it?” He looked around as though he might still be able to catch more than a glimpse of the thing.

  “Gone, sir. Thankfully.”

  Monroe sagged against the side of the vehicle and shook his head. “Almost killed by one and I still don’t get a proper look.”

  Allen liked Monroe, he really did; he just wished sometimes the honorary professor could get his priorities straightened out.