— I'm sorry I wasn't there to act for myself. —
The figure in front of us contrasted dramatically with his
words, as if it was not physically possible for the results
to be otherwise.
Since the explosion in Datsá, weeks had passed,
terrible weeks of dark memories. Jimmy Bruneau had
led us, first helping us to climb the gigantic rock pile that
had formed between the deposit and the ice gap. Lucy
was still feeling the anesthesia effects that left her neck
numb near the base, but she refused to have any help as
she climbed the hill. Then there was the extension
leading to the shepherd from whom Bergeron had
borrowed the herd, and whom we never heard from
again. Then the dark closed woods, where we dared not
light a fire again, confining ourselves to starving until we
reached the Dene village. Somewhere in the shadows,
the alpha female and her subordinate were waiting for
their next prey. Bravely, the indigenous leader walked
through the woods with us, including a clearing he said
he wanted to show us, where he had used an explosive to
take out the first Ceratosaurus. By the time we arrived at
the site, the snow had covered most of the pieces, but a
few were still large enough to be studied later, and I
wisely made my way to the largest of them, which stuck
out of the snow like a rock. As I approached it and
removed the snow that covered it, I discovered that it
was a skull, without the jaw and much of the flesh that
should have covered it, but still retaining the iconic horn
and some fuzz that reached to the back of its head.
620
Storing the find in my backpack, we continued on our
way cautiously, until we found ourselves again on the
plain where Aputik had been killed, which we crossed in
silence to show respect for Bruneau. At last, we were
back at the tribe and sat down to eat with the chief and
his people, including the guards, who threw their spears
to the ground to join us. The exquisite caribou stew
warmed us up, before we took the ferry back home. We
never set foot again in Bergeron's village, at Jimmy's
own request. In his view, it was better that his master
gave them the sad news. Andri Bergeron would be
remembered as a hero, as he had always wished, and that
was enough for the chief. There was not much we could
say against his wishes, so we rejoined Frederick Frost,
whom we had met up with in the tribe, and took the ferry
back to Whitehorse and finally to New Haven. The
Lavouie Inn front remained locked, forgotten, and should
stay like that until the walls succumbed to the action of
time. But of course, the reality is much darker than that
— soon the hordes of real estate agents would arrive,
ready to buy and sell a property where a person had been
unscrupulously murdered. I rolled my eyes into the cab,
imagining this scene with disgust. By the time I had the
courage to lift them once more, we were in front of the
Brone Airport, where the three of us took the last plane
necessary to end this adventure. Frost refused to sit next
to us, waiting for us to land so that we could talk more
particularly. When we finally landed at the Tweed, we
looked for the old man, but he was already lost in the
crowd. Lucy and I understood that this was some kind of
shame — the regret of not having been there to stop
something that was within his power. Days and then
621
weeks passed, before he opened the doors of his office to
us, but after almost a month, we found ourselves sitting
in two armchairs in front of his mahogany desk.
— Don't worry, Mr. Frost, — Lucy said with a
sigh. — There wasn't much to do.
— But there was! Of course there was! — he
cried, covering his bald head with his hands. — I could
have accompanied you to Datsá, but instead, I fell asleep
here, lost track of time, and for some reason don't even
remember the details of that day.
Sighing even more deeply, Lucy said slowly:
— Well, sir, do you even remember having
coffee?
— Coffee? Why, of course.
— Well, I asked Keene to drug you with a
sleeping pill.
— Why would you do that?
— For the same reason that you went with us to
South Africa — to protect us from him. When we first
met you on the plane to Africa and then to Inaccessible
Island, you looked scared to see us, but in reality, you
saw someone behind us. That someone was Jacob
Keene. That is why you ran back to your seat. You
already suspected that he had something to do with our
father's death, and you became morbidly afraid of the
man who managed to bring down that invincible
scientist. So you wanted to go with us to Hluleka, facing
your own fear, motivated only by the concern that he
would do us some harm. And that, Kevin... — Lucy
turned to me to say, — Is why Nathan Allard stole
Young's truck — to destroy the laboratory, which would
force Mr. Frost to return to America to investigate. For
622
the same reason, you followed us to the Everglades,
staying at the ranch only because your age didn't allow
you to go down to the lowlands. Also for us, you walked
to the Dene settlement, almost succumbing to the snow,
only to ask Bruneau to look after us both. You watched
over us all this time, and it was out of the same affection
that I tried to prevent you from going with us. —
Remaining silent for a few minutes, Frederick Frost
seemed to digest the information and ruminate it two,
three times, before finally answering:
— Well, I would be a hypocrite if I criticized you
for doing something I did with pride. But I want you to
explain to me everything that happened in each location.
— It will be my pleasure. We also have to contact
some people involved in all this. Do you mind waiting
until we are back?
— Back? And what am I going to do in the
meantime?
— How about inviting Albert Mendel to play
some cards? I think he would appreciate some company,
— she said, getting up and opening the door so that we
could go back out into the corridors of Athlios.
The corridors were slowly illuminated by the
faint light streaming in through the mahogany-framed
windows — the only reminder of a time that was to be
forgotten forever. One by one, they let the row of doors
in front of us take on color, even if that color was only
beige for the time being. We went down the upstairs
corridor to the spiral staircase where the dean had once
run to catch his plane, and then to the first floor where,
just below Frederick Frost's office, there was a gigantic
library, which seemed to defy the limits imposed by
623
space. Before we reached it, though, there was a streak
of sunlight coming in from the right, from the arched
doorway, which would never have happened a few
months before, when the laboratory stood sovereign,
blocking out any illumination. I then let Lucy go on her
way to talk to Albert Mendel and opened the huge
double doors of precious mahogany. Behind me, I could
still hear Lucy's footsteps, strolling more heavily to show
me that I could have a moment alone with my thoughts.
When the doors opened, the same vision I had before
was no longer so painful. We had returned from Florida
when I came back to this very foundation, wondering
what I would find, but I'd never be able to comprehend
the immense pain I was about to feel. Now, however,
there was no reason to suffer. The wind had blown away
the fine dust that remained from the destruction of the
laboratory, leaving behind only the smooth stone that
once supported the wooden and plaster walls. In the
garden planted by Lane, the flowers were also adapting
to his absence, slowly rising as they do every year.
Perhaps that is the only thing I remember about my
mother — a proverb. — Be reborn each spring, as the
wild rose does. I was being reborn. Starting over.
Becoming more resilient. On the ground, the petunias
lifted their stems with vigor, as did the thriving
four-o'clocks and the hydrangeas, which rose into
rounded bushes. Everything around me felt peaceful
again, even though I would never live in this space
again. I had a piece of Lane with me always — the home
Lucy had given me, plus her company from now on. At
this, I heard laughter echoing off the solid walls of
Athlios, resounding from the library. For once in months,
624
it was great to hear laughter replacing crying and
screams of horror. Turning to the doors again, I forever
abandoned that diminutive symmetrical square I once
called home.
⬫⬫⬫
The variation of Mendel's closet seemed as
infinite as the space between the walls of his library. This
time, the plaid he wore was green and white, matching
the bow tie that bore the same pattern; the man's chin
was prominent, enhancing the smile that greeted me at
the library counter. In front of him, Lucy was already
sitting in an armchair, almost disappearing into the folds
of the cushion that filled it; in her hand, a latte macchiato
completed the scene.
— My boy, how are you? Sit down before I force
you to do it, will you? — his voice trailed off, as if he
had never left the state of relaxation that the sleeping pill
had brought him, and his gestures of fixing the glasses
on his nose were also slow.
— What would you like? Cappuccino? Lucy told
me that was your favorite. Don't worry, there are no
drugs in this one. — Obviously, she refused to look me
in the eye at this point, so as not to give away the cheap
lie she had told.
— Yeah, why not? — I simply said, with an
accepting smile. Mandel's nimble hands seemed to have
trained for hours on end since we last saw him, typing
commands into the machine as if it was natural for him
to perform the gesture.
625
— You know, — he said with a concerned tone,
reaching out to me with the hand that held a cup of
coffee. — I've been thinking about what I did to Frost
and...I don't know if we were wise. Does he already
suspect that I lied to him?
— Why, no, Mr. Mendel, — Lucy assured him
confidently. — And of course, we won't tell him
anything...as long as you do us a small favor.
— Anything to maintain my position.
— You are also responsible for recording the
number of students who attend each class, if I'm not
mistaken.
— And also the name of each of them. Why?
What do you need?
— A very particular list...
⬫⬫⬫
— Then he drugged me and stole my truck so the
old man wouldn't get in his way? Why, what a jerk... —
The young man in front of us was still visibly calm,
despite having just discovered that he had been doped
and that his most prized possession had been taken to set
the stage for murder.
— I'm afraid so, Young, — Lucy said. At this
point, she had accepted the fact that you can't address
everyone by formal pronouns, but she had not yet
admitted that it is more concise to call someone of the
same age by their first name. Dave Young sat slouched
over his rocking chair, giving it a rock every few minutes
to cradle himself in what, judging by the creaking wood,
626
was an antique piece of equipment. The yellow uniform
had been replaced by jeans and a huge baggy shirt.
— Well, the bandit ended up paying for what he
did, — he said without changing the tone of his voice. —
And my machine is already shiny again, ready to hit the
road.
— The road? — I asked, surprised.
— Frost didn't tell you? The old man hired me to
be his bodyguard. He said he wanted to compensate me
in some way after what happened.
— Besides paying for the repair of the truck, you
mean?
— Why, yes, Kevin. It seems that the old
bodyguard quit his job or something. Do you know
anything about it?
— A few details, — Lucy answered, without
giving any more information about Nathan Allard's
death.
— And when did he hire you for the job? — I
asked, now interested in the subject.
— Just before his last trip to Canada, I believe.
— Yes, indeed, — I agreed. — And now, what is
the first mission?
— Oh, something pretty simple. He wants me to
go to a certain town of a strange name; I won't remember
now, and talk to a widow. Her name is...Abal. I only
remember her last name.
Lucy and I exchanged a look with the intention
that it would be discreet, but, as usual, we failed to
execute it.
627
— What is it? You know this lady? — Dave
Young asked with a huge smile with slightly crooked
teeth.
— We've already had the pleasure, — Lucy
answered simply.
— Well, he didn't give me much information,
except that I must carry enough money to convince an
entire village. The old man loves figures of speech.
— It's no figure of speech, — I thought to
myself.
— It's great to see that you are recovering well,
Young, — Lucy said with a slight nod. — Could you get
me some more caramel cake? — she asked in an almost
childish tone.
— Why, of course! — With a powerful thrust, he
used the rocking chair to launch him to the ground,
breaking his fall on the way. As he disappeared into the
small house, Lucy pulled out a slice of the same cake,
hidden in the hand that her chair concealed.
— What do you think? — I asked, knowing that
this was the real intention of sending our host inside the
residence.
— Frost is the smartest old man we have ever
dealt with, eh? He understood exactly what happened
when we arrived in New Britain.
— And what was it?
— Remember seeing Keene talking to the natives
and laughing out loud? That's not the atmosphere you
expect to find in a community that has just been
attacked, even if we saved everyone.
— You are right... so what's all the joy about?
628
— Not joy, Kevin. Pleasure. Keene offered
money, a fortune perhaps, to those poor people. In a
miserable and forgotten town, it is normal that the
inhabitants dream big when the chance of getting rich
appears so suddenly. Jacob wanted them to shut up, and
he succeeded. With so many witnesses seeing the
pictures we showed, there should be a global movement
by now, but there's none. He was able to stifle a fire, that
old fox!
— You know that's prejudice, right?
— Don't take it personally. Anyway, Frost wants
to make amends, now, by sending even more money than
Keene offered.
— Well, well, well...are we going to let that
happen? — With a sigh, she replied:
— There will be trouble, that's for sure. Where
there are humans, there are problems. But there will also
be those who will preserve and care for it with love. We
can only hope that the scales weigh in the right
direction...and be thankful that there are so many people
in that tribe.
— Why?
— Because if they were few, Keene wouldn't
have bribed them. He would have murdered them.
At that moment, Dave Young returned with the
infamous caramel cake, balancing it with the precision of
an inebriated man.
— There you go. You said you know these
people I'm going to bribe? — he asked, placing the huge
cake on the wooden table.
— And also those you are going to visit in a few
tribes after that, Lucy answered.
629
— What? — he asked, confused. — How do you
know these are the next destinations Frost is going to
send me to?
— Just a hunch. Anyway, Young, thanks for
having us; we have to attend a lecture that will take place
in the Athlios' auditorium at 4 pm.
— But, but what about the cake?
— Bring it with you. Maybe they will pay more
attention to me if we sweeten them first.
With that, we left the poor man behind, as
confused as before, and took to the streets once again.
— You're going to criticize Frost for what he did,
aren't you? — I predicted with a satisfied smile.
— Yes, I am, bro, — she answered, already
taking out of her pocket the cell phone she had left at
home during the last trip.
In Frederick Frost's office, the phone rang in a
hellish symphony. Waking up at the uncomfortable
noise, he jumped up from his chair, feeling that his heart
seemed to be doing the same movement.
— Hello? — he said, his heartbeat still racing.
— Good afternoon, Mr. Frost. I hope I'm not
disturbing you.
— Lucy? Kid, you saw me only yesterday
morning! What could have happened in the meantime to
make you disturb my revitalizing sleep?
— Well, not much ... we had breakfast with your
new bodyguard, went for a walk, found out about your
fraud scheme, something like that.
A long silence followed this sentence before
Frost spoke again.
630
— An act is only a crime if it harms someone,
young lady.
— You're right, — Lucy's voice sounded, slightly
distorted by the speaker. — What about the hundreds of
students who come to your University every day, hoping
to have the best possible infrastructure for learning?
Don't you think they are harmed by the fact that you
divert thousands of dollars for personal purposes?
— They are not for personal purposes! It is for
the preservation of these animals! Understand that by
revealing the existence of these creatures, we will have
even more supporters for our cause. Besides, I
embezzled millions of dollars before that, all to pay for
your father's expeditions, and did he come back with
anything? No, never. So maybe there will be some
return, at least.
The voice on the other end then sounded robotic,
almost like a synthesizer:
— I embezzled millions of dollars...millions of
dollars...millions of dollars...
— What? What was...
— Ah, how fascinating technology is, isn't it, Mr.
Frost? It's even possible to have a call recorder on your
cell phone these days.
— You little...!
— Save your vocabulary, Mr. Frost. As I said,
you have done us immense good before and even gave
me shelter as a child, albeit with the wrong motivation.
But unfortunately, humans are not only villains or good
guys, Keene or O'Riley, are they? There are also those
who manage to stay in the middle of that spectrum.
Apparently, you are one of these.
631
Sighing in frustration, Frederick Frost said:
— Okay...what do you want?
— What do I want? I want you to pay for your
mistakes too, just as others have paid, even though theirs
were far greater than yours. But I see that there is a much
greater gain in not denouncing you...
— Just say what you want!
— You will soon send Dave Young on a mission
to South Africa, ready to bribe the tribe that protects the
Sazinge River. Well, Keene had promised to pay them a
lifelong salary to keep guarding it. You'll volunteer to
pay that debt.
— Are you out of your mind? Can you imagine
how much it would cost in the long run?
— I embezzled millions of dollars...mi... — said
the dean's mirrored voice again.
— All right! All right, I accept the debt.
— Good, I knew I could count on you, as always.
By the way, would you like to have dinner with us
tonight?
— Yes…of course.
— Great, see you at the lecture at 4:00.
⬫⬫⬫
The auditorium was full — like it hadn't been for
months. Even in this vacation season, all the guests made
extreme arrangements to be present. Sitting in their
midst, I recognized the faces as those who scoffed at
Anthony Lane's speeches, whispering, calling him
"senile" and "feeble," being there only because Frost
threatened to lower their grades if they didn't. All of
632
these were listed on a very specific document, one that
Lucy had asked Albert Mendel to provide us with —
Professor Keene's list of students. Everyone had been
told that the lecture would be on something
exceptionally important related to the Doctor, which had
caused this huge wave of followers, which now
completely filled the auditorium, with more force than a
literal flood would have. A few seats to my left, Dave
Young had the caramel cake in his hands, which was
now being sliced and distributed among the hungry
crowd. Behind me, a hoarse and continuous coughing
frequently took my attention away. Finally, the automatic
curtains opened, and Lucy Lane walked across the
wooden stage; her creaking being the only noise to be
heard in the absolute silence that suddenly dominated the
place. Taking a breath, she stared at the audience and
began her lecture.
— I believe that many of you don't know me, but
you know enough about my story to be interested in
what has happened in the last few months. As you have
been informed, there is something I would like to tell
you about Dr. Jacob Evans Keene, a professor of
biomedicine who worked here for more than twenty
years. — With a saddened sigh, she went on to say:
— I must inform you that he recently passed
away.
All around, the noise of conversation instantly
returned, with the hundreds of comments and sighs of
shock that the news had caused.
— Now, I understand how heavy this blow must
be for all of you who lived with him daily, — she said,
now signaling the audience to keep their voices down. —
633
But I also believe that we should have this last meeting
to celebrate life, not death. Kevin O'Riley is here with us
this afternoon and will assist us in this task, — she called
out, pointing at me. Recovering from the surprise of
being called to the stage, I started the dozens of times I
would say "excuse me" until I reached the aisle and then
the stage. Welcoming me, she turned back to the crowd,
now walking across the stage for added effect.
— But, how... how did this happen? — a girl
asked, still sobbing.
— Well, the Doctor was recently involved in a
program that sought to find certain creatures thought to
be extinct.
— You mean like that senile Lane? — sneered a
young man.
Walking over to the computers in the center of
the stage, she reached for a huge backpack that still
rested on the keyboards and brought it to the edge of the
stage.
— What's your name? — she asked in an
irritated tone.
— Than. Why? Who wants to know?
— Because, Than, I'm Lucy Lane, his daughter,
— she answered, throwing the contents of her backpack
— the piece of Ceratosaurus that we had collected in the
Yukon — onto the man's lap.
Terrified, he jumped up and down, throwing the
head over the others nearby.
— Hadn't I put that sample in the freezer? — I
asked Lucy.
— I thought it would be more useful here.
Anyway, does anyone have any other jokes or
634
comments? No? Great! As I was saying, Keene had been
part of this project for some months now, and as our
friend Than was able to see very closely, he, along with
Anthony Lane, our father, found satisfactory samples of
what they were looking for.
To honor the work of these brave men, what we
will do today is explain to you how it is possible that
these populations have survived the extinction that most
of their kind have suffered. Kevin, please.
— Well, the first case is also the most recent.
This fractured skull was collected in Yukon, Canada, and
shows us how a species can defeat others within the
same genus and become dominant in the ecosystem in
question. Judging by the size, we must assume that this
is a Ceratosaurus dentisulcatus, the largest recorded to
date. The fossils we have were found in the USA,
making it a fantastic discovery so far north; it really is
extraordinary how many possibilities...
— Kevin...
— Oh, yes, sorry, I got carried away. Anyway,
the evidence seems to point to a change in behavior
caused by competition. It is possible that the other
smaller species were more effective at stalking and
taking down prey that the heavy dentisulcatus could not.
It is also arguable that a catastrophe caused this change,
such as a drought, which would be detrimental to
individuals that needed more food and water sources,
forcing them to migrate. For either of these reasons, the
species survived and now thrives.
⬫⬫⬫
635
From the shade of a huge birch tree, a predator
watched, somewhat hesitantly. Beside her, her only
companion remained silent, waiting for the command to
attack, but it would not come. In front of them, a crowd
of people was marching, about a hundred yards away.
Walking along the Stewart River, they were heading
south, where they would be more safely settled. These
people were Dene Indians and a mishmash of their
descendants from the nearby village, all led by an old
man, but also of strong, sturdy build, wearing a heavy
leather jacket. Keeping a watchful eye on that long line
of people leaving their homes forever, the female
observed them for a few moments, before returning to
the darkness of the forest, followed by the small male
who followed her steps. She could attack those people
and it is likely that many would succumb to the attack,
but her experiences with humans were not always good;
some even traumatic. There would be more prey,
however, now that the humans were going away to find
new pastures, allowing the natives to take back the land
that was rightfully theirs.
With caution, she approached the branch of the
river that crossed her path, preventing her shadow from
suddenly appearing on the surface of the water. This, by
the way, seemed to obscure and distort anything that was
beneath its surface, but not for a predator with a trained
eye. With the agility of a heron, the dinosaur stuck its
snout into the water, piercing a trout with its sharp fangs,
and soon brought it ashore to feed. For her, all nutrition
was essential, especially at this time of life.
636
⬫⬫⬫
— The next cause for the survival of a species is
isolation, — Lucy introduced, taking the floor. — Away
from their fellows, it is possible for a group of animals to
be protected from communicable diseases and extreme
competition from other herds. This is exactly the
scenario we discovered in the Everglades, where
something like a Steppesaurus colony had been formed.
It is difficult to specify how long the creatures have been
trapped in that mudflat, but certainly not for thousands of
years. The chances are slim that no severe drought has
befallen the region before or that no other external
factors have interfered with the local climate; it is simply
impossible. Thus, it is most likely that millions of years
ago a sizeable population of these animals survived and
spread across America. More recently, though, their
numbers have declined dramatically, and the remaining
individuals have found themselves trapped by the
constant transformation of the region. Fortunately, the
lagoon seepage, combined with the high rainfall rate and
the growth of local plants have turned the lowland into
an oasis, not only for these predators, but also for their
prey, which may have been the reason why they entered
the lowland in the first place. We found in the same
environment a huge amount of Diplocaulus magnicornis,
a large amphibian with a boomerang-shaped skull.
⬫⬫⬫
637
At the edge of the lake, a log balanced on an
incline, supported only by others that had fallen earlier.
Its already hollow structure served as a perfect hiding
place for all sorts of small creatures, from insects to
arachnids, and far below, other larger logs served the
same function for animals of the same scale — catfish.
The huge fish had taken advantage of the recent rains to
enter this new environment, finding, however, that it was
no more friendly than the rest of the swamp.
With its whiskers, one of them then felt a
vibration coming from the surface, sounding the meal
alarm. Being a small individual, anything that fell on the
surface had to be examined, in case it was food. Leaving
its burrow, it quickly ascended the water column,
approaching its prey. Held by surface tension, a huge
Palmetto cockroach struggled, trying to get back to the
ground, but the small predator covered the distance
quickly, too quickly for the insect to escape. Before it
could do so, though, a shadow covered the sunlight over
its eyes. A huge, salamander-like creature swam up to
the insect and devoured it with a single bite. Tilting its
body to the bottom, the Diplocaulus revealed its yellow
stripes on the brown body that camouflaged it perfectly,
before devouring the tiny catfish, as well.
On the ground, the group of Steppesaurus
exposed their sails to the sun, warming themselves to the
morning rays after the cruel cold night they had faced.
Left alone for weeks now, the animals were thriving
again, having all the food and water they needed at their
disposal. Many of them, asleep, did not notice the sky
change dramatically in a few minutes. Those that did,
moved lazily away from the lake shore, nudging the
638
younger ones with their muzzles to keep up. Suddenly,
the rain was falling weakly on the Everglades, causing a
commotion in the once calm lake. The rain lasted for
hours, getting heavier and heavier until the gusts of wind
turned it into a horrendous storm that was lashing the
shallows. The animals sought refuge on dry spots, trying
at all costs to continue resting, despite being excellent
swimmers. With the violence of the rain, though, the
water soon touched their bellies, forcing them to move.
After all, the huge carnivores entered the deep part of the
lake, using their long tails as oars, while their legs were
held close to their bodies, like those of a crocodile.
Around them, the clay walls crumbled again, being
washed away by the heavy rain that now fell, tinting the
inner lake with the feldspar, in addition to the tannin
already present. At the entrance to the gigantic structure,
the hill was soon surmounted by the rapidly rising lake,
connecting it to the pond. Swimming over the hill, the
animals were now passing next to the cypress tree, which
still had a simple base of branches and twigs in its
canopy. With the strong gale, the branches at the base
started shaking, struggling against the ties that held them
in place. Another gust and the wind tore off one of the
branches, snapping the vines that held the structure in
place. Within seconds, the others were lifted into the air
and flung into the waters below, where the huge reptiles
were now returning to their former habitat, soon
reaching the area where the alligators were hiding.
⬫⬫⬫
639
— Yet a third form of preservation, — I began
by saying, at Lucy's signal, — is artificial adaptation.
Throughout the ages, the ocean has always been feared
and revered because of its intangible vastness and the
millions of animals that live in its depths, most of them
not even having been discovered yet. Alas, many of
them will never even be discovered, because pollution,
overfishing, and global warming have destroyed the
marine environment long before we ever find them. This
was the explanation we found for an issue that occurred
in South Africa. Dr. Jacob Keene found that overfishing
had driven the Loligo genus of squid nearly to
extinction. Coincidentally, this type of mollusk is the
ideal prey for a surviving species from the region —
Leptocleidus capensis.
These animals have been found in fossil form for
years, which gave us an interesting insight into their
habits, including the ability to switch from a salty
environment to a brackish one and finally, to a
freshwater system, which came in handy for their stay in
the region. Deprived of their standard food and even the
fish they could use as an alternative, the animals sought
refuge in the Sazinge lagoon near the Hluleka reserve.
⬫⬫⬫
From within the extensive body of water, a
longline was being pulled. The hooks, one by one, came
up in sequence, covering the entire length of the line, but
with no weight behind it, as there was not expected to be
any. Through the surface tension, the last hook came to
the surface, without any animal attached to it. Soon after,
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a net came up, also being pulled. Below this material, a
young man was pushing it to a girl who was pulling it
into the canoe in which it was balanced. Inside, a pile of
other nets and fishing materials was piling up, leaving
just enough room for her. In the middle of the lagoon,
they had already been collecting the garbage that lay on
the sandy bottom for hours. Then, near the stern of the
boat, something moved slowly, creating a slight ripple.
The man turned in the direction of the sound, but could
only see a shadowy figure. Continuing his work, he kept
guiding more pieces of mesh into her receiving hands,
until something scaly touched his flank, causing a
terrible shiver to run down his spine. Looking around, he
saw nothing again, and the water was too murky for him
to see anything below its surface. Nervous, he tried to
climb into the boat, but the being was already out of the
water beside him, leaving only a few inches between the
man and its sharp teeth. When the couple turned to the
creature, they recognized it immediately.
— Mamlambo! — the girl smiled, saying the
name in the local language. The animal had a curious
look, almost like that of a lizard, but the part visible to
them was more like a snake. Trying once more, the man
brought his hand cautiously, intending to touch the
Leptocleidus' long neck, but it moved away, just enough
not to interact physically. Perhaps one day. For now, the
species coexisted peacefully with the humans in the area
and benefited from the preservation efforts that those
good people practiced. Around the canoe, more heads
raised now, watching, splashing water, turning as they
looked, as if trying to understand those strange beings
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that regularly came into their world, taking back only
what they found at the bottom.
Further east, the lagoon led to the Sazinge River,
through which some of the animals were now
swimming, heading for the rocky beaches. Under the
dawn sky, they crossed the water, passing by a cluster of
abandoned buildings, making their way to the open sea.
These waters, unfortunately, no longer provided for them
as generously as before, but the lagoon fed them well, as
the next location would show. Now heading south, the
animals swam along with their young, who had already
learned the daily route between the food source and the
next point, where they would now arrive after a few
hours. On the white sandy beach, young and old animals
sought shade under the palm trees that adorned the spot,
snuggling into each other.
⬫⬫⬫
— The last form of preservation is migration, —
Lucy said, returning to her spot at the stage front. — By
traveling great distances, a species can move away from
an adverse condition and take refuge in another location,
with more food, hiding places, or any other natural
resource. Taking into account the location of the next
cryptid, this is precisely what happened in Ambungi,
where a flock of Deinocheirus mirificus was discovered
coexisting with an entirely different species —
Probactrosaurus from Papua New Guinea. These two
groups have found in each other the perfect response to
attacks, as the Probactrosaurus have a better sense of
smell, while the Kaiaimunus, as the Deinocheirus are
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locally called, have much more threatening weapons.
Completing the ecosystem, there's also a flock of
Sinornithosaurus millenii and a smaller one of
Australovenator wintonensis. It's possible that all four
genera migrated together, as shown by the predator-prey
relationship that Australovenators have with the two
herbivore genera and that even Sinornithosaurus seem to
have with Kaiaimunu chicks, which would explain their
violent behavior toward them.
⬫⬫⬫
Maintaining the ring formation around the mixed
group, the Guardians marched in order, brandishing their
claws periodically to ward off potential predators before
they even approached. The clearing in which they were
feeding now was not there just a few hours before, but
had been created by the formidable claws, as well as the
weight of the huge bodies. In the green and brown
landscape, the Probactrosaurus camouflaged themselves
perfectly, while their protectors stood out like harpy
eagles with their grey feathers. Far ahead, the Leader
raised his neck to keep everyone's safety, which included
the brownish females that walked among the flock,
feeding on the trees that had their branches lowered by
their lethal claws. All around them, the Sinornithosaurus
glided from branch to branch, feeding on insects and
birds that dared to stand in their way, making a huge
racket in the trees far above.
Away from that noisy scenery, however, there
was peace. On the beach in New Britain, the trees waved
gently in the wind. The only sound was that of waves
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crashing — and of a speedboat. The propeller was as
powerful as a race-car engine and moved the boat like
lightning. Its pilot, having just arrived from Murien, had
heard stories there about something fantastic living on
these islands. He had already tried Ambungi, where the
man had first sent him, but without success. On his own,
he then decided to look around Alage and Amge and
finally the main island, before forcing the man to give
him back what he had paid for the information. Of
course, the poor man seemed to be in shambles, saying
that his old boat had been rented and never returned, and
that he should have beaten a certain Queene, as he
wished, but anyway...everyone has their own problems,
don't they? Moving inland, the newcomer was already
imagining the bright future he would have when he
obtained what he had come here for — the most
beautiful feathers ever described to him. He would be the
richest hat and costume maker in the world if he could
find them, and he would do it here and now. With
determination, he moved forward into the forest, not
realizing that something was also looking for him.
⬫⬫⬫
— And so, — Lucy concluded, — this proved
what Anthony Lane had been theorizing for years — life
forms thought extinct actually survived and thrived. His
assistant, Dr. Jacob Keene, was indispensable in securing
this discovery, and he will certainly be given credit, even
though we have lost him. Kevin and I will continue the
hard work that these pioneers started, funded by the
generous hand of our dean, Frederick Frost, — she said,
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pointing to Frost, who was munching on a slice of
caramel cake when he was called. His eyes widened at
the prospect of paying for more expeditions for years to
come, but he could say nothing.
— Thank you so much, Mr. Frost, — she said
with forced emotion; her thanks being repeated by
dozens of young people in the audience. — Of course,
we would love to have the support of anyone who
volunteers, — she went on to say, — Just get in touch
with us. Thank you for everyone's attention this
afternoon, and for the support I'm sure we'll get from
you.
As one, the audience rose to their feet to applaud
Lucy, moved by her words.
THE END