Saurotopia Book 1: First Foray
A long-abandoned world. A secret mission. And one discovery that changes everything
Sadira Kamali
Sadira Kamali stared at the sonic shooter gleaming in Captain Townsend’s outstretched hand, then at her impatient face. During their two-month voyage, the captain had never indicated that she expected Sadira to carry a weapon into Saurotopia. It had been years since anyone might have needed a weapon inside the orbital habitat.
Beneath her no-nonsense buzz-cut and the old scar through one eyebrow, Townsend’s blue eyes narrowed. She stood a head taller than Sadira. “Take it, Kamali.”
“To do what? Wave it at frozen corpses?” It pained Sadira to picture what they would find inside the habitat orbiting Mars: ice-coated evergreens and dead ginkgoes, as well as withered ferns lining the shores of the frozen lake. In the swamplands, the forests, and the prairies, they expected to find the terrible remains of the audacious undertaking that had been the Phoenix Project: exquisitely preserved dinosaur carcasses.
“Everyone under my command goes armed into that boneyard. That includes you, Kamali.”
Lacking military training, Sadira was tempted to plead ineptitude. However, little skill or practice was needed to acquit oneself well with a weapon that blared disabling noise at its target. Nonetheless, she wasn’t about to be ordered around like a grunt. “With respect, Captain, we’d do better to bring ice axes.”
Townsend drew herself up. “I don’t care how long you worked in that freezer tube. You’re under my command now, and you will carry this weapon. I don’t permit my crew to take unnecessary risks, Kamali.”
I didn’t merely “work” there. “As Saurotopia’s former lead paleo-zoologist, I assure you that nobody ever needed to carry sonic shooters.” Not even in the heady days when the habitat had been engineering schematics. Nor on the most exciting day of her life, when the first tenontosaur hatchlings had poked their goofy muzzles out of their shells and fixed her with inquisitive brown-eyed stares. The baby “tennies” had wriggled free, discovered their tails, and wobbled toward her on stubby legs as though she were their mother.
Sadira’s joy and delight had turned to heartbreak when she’d made her decision to leave the Phoenix Project. The first litter of tennies had not yet been half-grown. The young feathered raptors had trilled while making their first leaps from branch to branch. On the open prairie, swan-necked ornithomimuses sprinted like race horses on long, slender legs.
A few years later, McFadden Enterprises had terminated the Phoenix Project. She had been on a ship off the coast of Florida, failing to muster much enthusiasm for studying dolphins, when word had seeped out that the researchers, techies, and maintenance staff were returning to Earth or the Moon bases.
The dinosaurs could not leave. They had no place to go, and no way to get there. The tennies were the size of pickup trucks. They’d lumbered through the swamps and slurped lake water while scanning for the predatory raptors. Many would soon have had newborns of their own. Ten years later, worse had followed. The neglected climate control systems in one sector after another had given out, plunging the habitat into a prolonged freeze well below zero. For the Phoenix Project, there had been no rising from the ashes.
Rather than dragging out the argument, Sadira took the weapon. Lieutenant Rikard Martine was about to commence the Beagle Reborn’s final approach, so she would save her protests for important matters. They had a ton of work ahead of them. As shattering as it would be to document the dinosaurs’ final days and retrieve their frozen remains, she’d leaped at the chance to return.
Townsend removed her own sonic shooter from the weapons locker. As if that would not be enough protection, the captain also selected a high-voltage stunner.
With a bounce in his step and an enormous grin, Ensign Mark Weller approached. Townsend handed him a sonic shooter and a stunner. “Next best thing to seeing those dinosaurs alive.” A former zookeeper, he’d told them several times that he’d followed the Phoenix Project since he was a kid. At almost half Sadira’s age, he still was, in her estimation.
Sadira returned the dino groupie’s smile. His keen interest in Saurotopia’s three lesser-known species had dominated many conversations during their two-month journey from Earth. Rikard had frequently taken part in those conversations, and both had enjoyed her reminiscences about coaxing the newly hatched tennies to eat.
Commander Adele Dubois, the ship’s XO and security officer, was the last member of the recon team to arrive at the weapons locker. Sadira would not have expected an officer to sport red and blue hair, though it provided a colorful note in their utilitarian vessel.
The XO retrieved a sonic shooter and a long-barreled gun that fired sticky netting. She and Townsend had worked together in the military for many years before signing on as private security for McFadden Enterprises. It had taken Sadira most of the first month aboard the Beagle to figure out that Townsend and Dubois were also a couple, not that either had ever mentioned it. The captain led the team to the airlock and called up a real-time holodisplay.
Rikard Martine spoke over the ship’s comm. “Captain, we’re on final approach.”
Sadira wished Rikard, who was capable and adaptable, could come on the recon, but she would get more than enough time with him during this mission because he would lead the salvage operation.
“Roger, Lieutenant.”
Sadira stared at the display as the Beagle drew closer to Saurotopia’s end cap. When the ship was a hundred meters out, the habitat’s hangar bay door slid up.
A spaceship a third the size of the Beagle was docked in the hangar. Scarlet curlicues adorned its white exterior, but she saw no weapons ports. The name Shenanigans marched across its hull, but it bore no flag or other markings. Where had she seen similar curlicues?
“Stop!” Captain Townsend ordered. “What the hell is that ship doing there?”
Adele shook her head. “Not a model I recognize.”
The Beagle’s forward thrusters fired. Sadira swayed as the vessel halted.
Townsend directed, “Lieutenant, scan that ship and run its name in the registry.”
“Already on it, Captain.”
“Why weren’t we told about this?” Townsend muttered. Mark Weller started to respond, but she held up a hand. “It wasn’t a real question.”
Martine reported, “Captain, I can’t find a ship with that name. I’ve triple-checked everything that was ever registered to McFadden Enterprises or the Phoenix Project. It’s not one of ours.”
“Try hailing her.”
“Calling Shenanigans on Saurotopia hangar deck. This is Beagle Reborn, Captain Emelia Townsend in command. This habitat is private property. Please respond.”
Silence. He repeated the message and added, “Do you have an emergency? We stand ready to assist. Over.” A mechanical malfunction or a serious medical emergency was the only legitimate justification for docking without permission.
Sadira stared at the ship. Who would dare intrude on Caesar McFadden’s domain, even eighteen years after his death?
He tried several more times but got no answer. “Shall I continue, Captain?”
“No, Lieutenant.” Townsend turned to the recon team. “Any guesses who our intruder might be, people?”
Sadira offered, “Not a government or business enterprise, not without a flag or a corporate logo. Plus, no automated distress signal. Maybe it belongs to some billionaire.”
Adele nodded. “Who else would have the money for a jaunt to Mars and pick a name better suited for a seagoing luxury yacht?”
Townsend frowned. “For what purpose?”
That seemed obvious to Sadira. “Someone interested in sightseeing.”
Adele backed her up. “It’s common knowledge that Saurotopia is full of freeze-dried dinosaurs.”
“Then why ignore our hail?” the captain asked.
Sadira traded looks with Mark. Adele ventured, “They weren’t expecting to get caught trespassing?”
Townsend’s frown deepened.
Sadira suggested, “We should contact Santiago Perez. He’ll want to know.” Caesar McFadden’s widower was fascinated by space travel. Not that he would dream of venturing farther than low Earth orbit, and had gone that far only twice. Sadira pictured him ensconced in his Spanish hacienda, awaiting news from the Beagle.
Townsend rubbed the back of her neck as she stared at the deck. “Agreed. Lieutenant Martine, send Perez an update. Let him know we’ll set down close to that vessel in case anyone aboard needs emergency aid in our sick bay. Keep the ship on alert status. Doctor Keane, prepare the loadlifters to transport patients.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” they chorused.
Sadira ventured, “Captain, should we set down next to a ship we know nothing about?”
“We’ll have our weapons handy. If you want to excuse yourself…”
Does she think I must be a coward because I never served in the military? “No.”
“Lieutenant, take us in easy and set us down beside that ship.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Rikard matched the habitat’s rotation and piloted the Beagle into the hangar. As they hovered above the deck, Sadira clutched a grab bar. On closer observation, nothing shed more light on the ship or its crew. Rikard settled the Beagle onto the deck with the lightest of bumps.
“Suit up, everyone.” Townsend followed her own order.
The recon team did the same. Although technology had advanced in the nearly twenty years since Sadira had last donned a vacuum suit, getting the details right was still a formidable task. Her nose already itched. Why did that always happen when she put a helmet on? Plus, her breathing sounded loud.
The team paired up and checked each other’s suits after all indicators were green. Adele also checked the medpack, which Lieutenant Levon Keane, the ship’s doctor, had provided. He’d unsuccessfully argued his case for accompanying the first survey. They all carried small medkits.
Adele slung the net gun over one shoulder, and everyone else strapped their weapons to their hips.
“Ready?” Without waiting for answers, Townsend opened the inner airlock’s hatch. After everyone filed in, she pressed Cycling and repeated, “Ready?” She opened the outer hatch and descended the three steps to the hangar deck.
Sadira let the others go ahead. The weapon strapped around her leg reminded her of the potential seriousness of the situation.
The captain strode toward Shenanigans’ airlock and pressed the control panel. The outer hatch slid open. “Huh. I guess the crew didn’t think anyone else would show up.”
“Or didn’t care,” Adele suggested.
Townsend stepped through the hatch, and the team followed. After she closed it, air rushed in.
“Could we get trapped in here?” Sadira asked.
“Damn, you have a paranoid mind.” Townsend’s finger hovered over the button to open the inner hatch. “Lieutenant Martine and Doctor Keane will bail us out if need be.”
I’d feel better if Rikard were here, Sadira thought.
When the green light came on, the inner hatch opened. Everyone checked the readings on their wrist sensors. Oxygen, nitrogen, and carbon dioxide were all nominal. Townsend ordered them to keep their helmets on.
On cue, Sadira’s nose itched.
There were six spacesuit lockers near the airlock. When Adele opened them, three were empty. The others held suits bearing the red curlicue from the hull but no names or insignias. Two were for tall people.
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” the captain cautioned. “Three people might be aboard. Or these could be spares.”
A narrow passage to the right contained four hatches. To the left, the passage took a quick turn and dead-ended at a hatch. Nothing looked amiss.
Townsend gestured to the right. “Dubois and Weller, check out those compartments. You’ve got each other’s backs. Kamali, you’re with me. I’ll keep an eye on you.”
At the end of the short passage, Townsend pressed another button. The hatch that led to the bridge sprang open. Two consoles were up front, the captain’s chair behind them. She nodded. “Standard setup. Only need minimal crew for a flight from the Earth or the Moon.” She pressed several buttons on the main console and then the navigation console. “Well, whoever the hell they are, they locked everything up. Let’s try this another way.”
Townsend was muttering about having unlocked the ship but not its central computer when Mark Weller came in. “We checked out the crew quarters, the engine room, the cargo bay, and the galley. Nobody’s home, and there is no sign of a mishap. There is one thing, though. Captain, come look.”
Mark led the way, with Townsend on his heels and Sadira trailing. An extensively modified cargo bay took up much of the aft end of the ship.
Sadira gasped. Sizable stasis pods filled the space, hatches ajar. A cabinet held syringes, some too large to be for human use. A second cabinet was filled with neatly labeled gallon jugs. “This is fast-acting tranquilizer, and these contain a long-lasting sedative. They’re shelf-stable.”
Townsend turned to the XO. “Your thoughts, Commander?”
“The crew might be as dead as those dinosaurs. If not, our heat sensors will spot them since they’ll be the only warm things.”
The captain eyed Sadira. “You coming?”
She would not trudge back to the Beagle while the recon team pressed on, despite the knot in her stomach. “I am.”
“Once we exit the lift, stay alert. Yell at any hint of trouble. We’ll retreat if need be. Martine or Keane will swoop in if we call for backup.”
“Shall we bring the hoverglobe down with us?” Adele asked. The lightweight spherical vehicle seated six and could roll across the habitat’s terrain and fly short distances. It would easily fit in the lift with the team.
Townsend shook her head. “There are supposed to be functioning ones in the main equipment bay next to the lift. It’s better to keep our hoverglobe at the ready up here in case Keane and Martine need to take it down in a hurry.” After they scoped out the situation in the habitat, they would bring down cryotanks, loadlifters, and other equipment to retrieve what remained of the dinosaurs.
Sadira followed the others out of Shenanigans and over to the lift, steeling herself to look at the portraits inside it. After all this time, how can those photos still twist my stomach? Caesar McFadden is dead, and Danny Abbott went missing years ago.
The captain checked the lift’s controls. “It’s down on the floor. Someone either took it or sent it down.” She tapped the button to summon it. The lift released its air and began to ascend. While she waited, Townsend updated Martine again.
Sadira paced, taking deep breaths. Before she had agreed to come back, she’d had a frank conversation with Santiago Perez about her reasons for quitting the Phoenix Project.
He’d been surprised and dismayed to learn that Caesar McFadden had not put a stop to what Sadira had endured. Perez had gone on to convince her that his interest in her zoological research was genuine, and that he valued her insights. He’d given her sufficient time to think things over. Her work in Saurotopia had been the most intellectually engaging scientific research she’d ever done. Here she was again looking forward to making further advances. She rejected the notion that the Beagle’s crew would be glorified fossil collectors for the new Caesar McFadden Dinosaurium that Santiago Perez was building.
The lift arrived, and Mark went to the portrait on the right bulkhead. Caesar McFadden held an early version of Charles Darwin’s groundbreaking treatise Origin of Species. When Sadira first met McFadden, he’d joked that he owned “one of the species of Origin.” When she’d chuckled, he had smugly proclaimed, “My intellectual achievements are to Darwin’s what Einstein’s were to Sir Isaac Newton.”
No one on the Phoenix Project had disabused their patron of that notion, given the billions of euros he’d poured into reproducing living, breathing dinosaurs. A large portion of that sum had gone into designing and constructing the orbital habitat around Mars so that the undertaking would pose no threat to humanity.
Mark turned to the second portrait. Saurotopia’s former Chief Scientist Danny Abbott stood holding two fossilized dinosaur skulls.
Ugh. Sadira had been thrilled to work with the eminent paleo-geneticist to resurrect three dinosaur species. Her starry-eyed phase hadn’t survived the first week of their collaboration. She’d found out how misogynistic and flat-out creepy he was.
Danny had repeatedly cornered her for unneeded consultations and gotten handsy. She had only had so much energy for strategically placing lab benches and suchlike between them, and he had ignored her protests. She’d put up with it for the sake of the work until it had grown too exhausting. Her appeals to McFadden had been useless, and possibly counterproductive. After four years of misery, she’d left her dream job.
When a media free-for-all had erupted between the visionaries—she counted herself among them—and the alarmists, Sadira had stayed silent. After Caesar McFadden’s death, his daughter Jillbee McFadden had been so intent on spiting her father’s husband and claiming every last euro of her inheritance that she had closed the Phoenix Project down, dooming the new dinosaurs to a second extinction.
Mark looked reverent, but he didn’t know the details. “Wow. You have no idea how much I envy Doctor Abbott for getting to touch those skulls.”
Adele pointed at the raptor skull. “Lotta sharp teeth. Is that the cannibal dinosaur?”
Sadira responded, “It sure is. The curved five-inch talon on each hind foot is the real issue.” The first raptor hatchlings had been born three months before she’d left the project, and the babies’ half-inch talons had been intimidating. “That’s why it’s nicknamed ‘terrible claw.’”
Mark added, “Its scientific name is deinonychus.” He shifted his gaze to the second skull, which was toothless but had a sharp beak. “Ornithomimus, the ‘ostrich mimic.’“ He was proud of the identifications. “I’ve seen a ton of photos, and it really does look like a stretched-out ostrich with a long tail.”
Sadira corrected, “In a strict sense, it could not mimic a bird species that wouldn’t exist for many millions of years.”
Mark shook his head. “Madame Pedantic strikes again.” Adele laughed. Mark went on, “If only I could meet him one day. He was a genius, re-creating a chunk of Late Cretaceous North America in microcosm. Why doesn’t anybody know what he’s doing these days?”
“Some of us don’t care.” Sadira ignored Mark’s puzzled look.
“Enough hero-worship.” The captain crossed to a metal cover that hid a window. “Let’s see what we’ve got down there.” She slid it up.
Adele gasped.
Mark gulped.
Sadira tried to rub her eyes and remembered she was wearing a helmet.
Verdant ginkgoes, conifers, and other trees gave way to a broad plain. Flashes of motion betrayed the presence of sizable creatures out in the open. Ostrich mimics? It must be her imagination.
In the middle distance, boggy terrain and a smooth lake appeared to defy gravity by clinging to the cylinder’s curve and extending high overhead. Sadira tapped a display to zoom in on the lake. “Oh!”
A dozen dappled gray-green long-tailed tennies were slurping water near the bank. Now grown, the adults were as tall as her and as long as an RV. The largest two kept their heads up and their side-facing eyes on the forest. Several sub-adults with oversized muzzles splashed each other with their tails.
How was this possible? Five years ago, Sector Three at the opposite end had recorded a catastrophic temperature drop, sealed itself, and ceased to relay data. At first, remote engineers had held out hope for Sectors One and Two, but a few months later, their climate control systems gave out too, as had the internal webcams.
Townsend demanded, “Where the hell are our frozen dinosaurs, Kamali?”
“Take it up with Engineering. I have no clue how all these plants and animals could have made a comeback after extreme cold.” Or why only this display was operational.
Adele asked, “Are we still going in, Captain?”
Mark blurted, “We have to! If we can see the dinosaurs up close…”
Adele sighed. “Looks like a haul to the swamp.”
Townsend chewed her lip, then ordered Lieutenant Martine to update Santiago Perez. There would be little point in waiting for his response since he knew less than they did about the situation here. Townsend chewed her lip. “We will reconnoiter, then come right back. You with us, Kamali?”
A thriving herd of tennies? “No need to keep asking me.”
The captain hit the down button.
A thriving dinosaur habitat. An abandoned ship. Missing people. What is really happening on Saurotopia? Find out on July 30th when Saurotopia Book 1: First Foray is released. Until then head over to Amazon and Pre-order it today.
