— Didn't I say that you should wait until
daybreak? — Keene's voice was sour and sore, but with
no accompanying displays of anger. At least that could
be counted in his favor. During the hours that had passed
since our discovery until this conversation in the
morning, we had collected some of the shells and
brought them back. The result and Keene's reaction were
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obvious, but we still had to do it, as he was part of our
research team.
— No, — Lucy answered him resolutely, — You
said that if we wanted to leave in the morning, we would
have your support. Besides, what's the difference? Kevin
found a nest of the creatures, and now we have a bunch
of empty eggs to study.
— The difference is that you lied, saying that you
would love to have my expertise on the case when you
didn't even intend to have me around.
— You have your opportunity to show expertise
now that tangible material has been found. All right,
explain yourself.
Jacob Keene's face flushed with ardor as he
recognized the phrase he so often used to challenge the
knowledge of others. Grabbing one of the shells, which
would surely have broken were it not for its rubbery
texture, he did not take his eyes off Lucy. Finally turning
to the sample, he hissed:
— How can you be so sure that these eggs belong
to plesiosaurs? They could be from a local chelonian.
Hawksbill turtles exist in these waters and spawn on the
coast of South Africa. Furthermore, there is evidence
that plesiosaurs did not lay eggs, but rather, that they
gave birth to well-developed hatchlings. Remember that
a fossil of Polycotylus latippinus contained the bones of
an entire young.
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— That's true, Doctor, — I agreed. — And I was
also surprised to find eggs of the species, but while we
were looking for adults in the river, I remembered the
huge number of nestlings we saw. It would take a
relatively large population of these animals for each
female to give birth to each of these. So we know that
some genera were viviparous, possibly having only one
young at a time, but it is also possible that, as in the
mammalian class, where there are differences even in the
mode of reproduction, the same is true for this family.
Also, the size of these eggs is considerable; much larger
than any turtle I can remember. — Bringing his still
sand-covered hand from the samples to his chin, Keene
tilted his head to think, as he so usually does.
— Maybe you're right, boy. The species would
have survived that way, based on its numbers. The other
genera, being viviparous, would have been outnumbered
and quickly died out. It would be a huge difference that
members of the same taxonomic family would then have
such absurdly distinct reproductive methods, but the idea
is not dismissible. Just remember that platypi and
echidnas, which have a different reproductive method,
since they are oviparous, belong to the family of
monotremes, which is different from that of viviparous
mammals.
— Now, Doctor, — Lucy insisted, — Taxonomy
is based on the physical characteristics of animals. How
is it possible to know all the physical aspects of a
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creature if it is believed to have been extinct for millions
of years?
— Hmm. You have good arguments, young lady.
— So you will help us try to save these animals
without taking anyone's job?
— I ... I think I can try.
— Awesome! First, how do we find the adults?
— That will be problematic. Especially if the
species prefers the open sea. It is too large an expanse to
find anything.
— There will be no need to search the sea. —
The incoming voice now sounded exasperated. From
behind the door frame emerged Baruti Elya, with an
enraged expression. Entering the ballroom, he stopped
under the archway and stared at us with a look that
condemned our actions.
— You don't usually knock, do you? — criticized
Jacob Keene.
— Save the pleasantries, old man; these are my
houses. — I was a little shocked to hear Keene being
called an old man, but it seemed to suit him. Then I
realized that Lucy and I were both half his age and that
Baruti himself must have been around 30 or so.
— And you, girl, — continued the engineer, —
pretended that you were interested in our culture only to
betray us and not tell us what you'd found?
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— First of all, stop calling me "girl". My name is
Lucy Lane. And second, why are you so sure we weren't
going to show you the samples eventually?
— I saw the old fox looking around before he
came in here; I was fixing a tile in the tool shed and he
didn't see me. Besides, you really thought the party room
would be a good place to hide?
In retrospect, the idea was rather ludicrous,
indeed.
— So that's it? — Baruti was now saying,
pointing at the egg samples, still keeping a somber look
on his face. — Is that where these demons that are
ruining my business came from?
— We believe so, Mr. Elya, — I dared to answer.
— Well, then. I'll give you one more chance to
study these monsters and find a way to get them out of
here. I have just received a call that one of the creatures
was found in the Port St. Johns lagoon; these are all the
details I was given. Solve this issue before I do!
Turning his back, Baruti left to go back to work,
while we had to visit a dangerous deep-water lagoon.
Our car kept the same coloring throughout this
expedition in South Africa, just as the engineer had
predicted, and in that cramped vehicle, we followed the
many miles of winding road that led to Port St. Johns.
With us was a load of biltong, the beef jerky prepared in
South Africa, kindly given to us by Baruti, who,
although disgusted by our actions, was concerned that
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we should have something to eat on the journey. The
crate containing kilos of the food was often opened
inside the car, releasing the aromas of garlic and sweet
chili, which were used to season the meat.
— Why do you think the animals would go up
the river? — asked Lucy, chewing a piece of biltong.
— Some species did this to avoid competition
and even predation from larger reptiles, — said Keene.
Since this answer was not enough for me, I dared to
question:
— But why would they come to the lagoon now?
We don't know of any other sighting in Port St. Johns
before this one. Do you believe that there might be
something bigger in the sea?
— Maybe something is missing in the sea, Kevin.
— What do you mean? — But Keene didn't
answer, keeping his eyes fixed on the next turn.