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escapefromrealityHere is a wide and lovely path, paved with good intentions. Will Simon Masrani go for a walk?
" Ah!" Simon said, ducking as something shot past his face at top speed. The outside wired-off habitat was filled with rustles and strange cheeping noises. "What the hell?"
John stood upright in the centre of the path, laughing so hard he had to take his glasses off and wipe his eyes.
"It's all right! He won't eat you! Though he's partial to sparrows." He took a heavy glove from his pocket and pulled it on, holding up a lump of bloody meat and calling out soothingly in Chinese. There was another flash of movement and Simon gasped as a creature the size of an eagle shot into view, its four - four - wings outstretched and its long feathered tail trailing behind it to land with a thump on John's wrist.
"What is it?" he said, admiring the iridescent black feathers as the creature savaged the meat. He reached out a finger to stroke its back and it jerked its head up to glare at him with the most evil intent he'd ever seen in something that size. Prudently, he withdrew his hand.
"A microraptor," John said. "Forgeries of fossils were sold to collectors and institutions in the States – I brought you the real thing. He's mostly a glider – the wings on the back limbs are for stability." He sighed. "I've had to write my findings up as speculations based on limb shape, of course, not on observation. So far at least. Officially we did not waste scientific time and effort, not to mention state money, on bringing long dead fauna back to life. Unlike the decadent west, reanimating creatures for material gain and for the easily deluded to gape at." He grinned. "I look forward to publishing in western journals."
"It's still just another little bird –" Simon started.
"Just because birds are dinosaurs it doesn't mean all dinosaurs are birds," John said, and flung his fist upwards, giving the microraptor height to glide to a nearby branch. "He isn't a bird. Simon, I have to recreate my work here. I have my notes, I have the specimens – I need to make sure I can work properly in InGen's labs and with their people. Henry says one of the computer people has been to Beijing twice in the last two years; she's not ethnically Chinese, she has not personal or professional connections there. Do you think I'm doing anything that can't be explained as Henry exploiting the minor interests of a naïve nerd on research leave until I'm sure she's not a spy?"
"You're perfectly safe, John," Simon said. "Relax."
"Where's my green card? How's your preparation for my citizenship application?" John snapped. "I'm safe as long as I don't set foot off this island. Soon enough I'll be an alien who's overstayed his visa. I wanted things handled quietly and privately, but if I need to officially claim asylum -"
"Everything's in hand," Simon said. "Like you said, you're still officially on research leave. I'm guessing you didn't leave a letter detailing your travel plans?"
"No," John said, and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just stressed, I didn't mean to –"
"It's OK," Simon said. It was reassuring to see a crack in the smug surface John normally kept up. It made him seem more human, more likeable. Simon had always enjoyed helping people, and honestly, if someone who'd left their whole life, language and country behind didn't need a friendly hand – He knew the feeling. "These things take time," he said. "Even when you have connections. I'm doing everything legally – you'll be unassailable. Come on, John, you know I'm working to get things fixed. You're my secret weapon here!" He lowered his voice to add conspiratorially, "Don't tell Henry I said that."
"Thanks," John said, and smiled. "I had a whole flock of those back home," he said, nodding at the microraptor, which was watching them avidly, as if wondering if it could take them.
"It's nice to see one here."
"Do you think they'd make good pets too?"
"Yeah. But it'd have to be your only pet. Poor Fluffy would meet an untimely end."
Simon laughed along with him, feeling a little guilty. "You make me a flock of those, if it makes you less homesick," he said, and John snorted with dry amusement, shaking a cigarette out of his pack. He offered one to Simon, who refused it. He was sure that smoking wasn't really allowed near the animals, but well, John had made them – if he wanted to blow smoke over them, why not?
"I'm working up in size," John said. "But I should probably make you a few actual dinosaurs for your zoo first."
"It's not really a zoo."
"Simon, it's a zoo. It's just one for prehistoric creatures, not mythological ones."
"You were making zoo animals?"
John smiled, and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "No. But did you want a unicorn?"
Simon laughed at the thought. He did, now the possibility had been brought up. Achingly. He tamped down the image of moonlight on silvery manes and horns. "What if I said, "John, make me a few mermaids?"
"I suppose I'd have to say, Why, Simon, working on human DNA like that would be terribly unethical," John said. His smile turned sly. "Then I might say, How close am I to becoming a citizen?"
"Henry's right, you have a terrible sense of humour," Simon said. "Put the mermaids on the back-burner for now. I'm happy with dinosaurs."
"You'll get them. And you'll get the dragons too," John said.
"OK." Simon turned away and then turned back. He could at least put the man's mind at ease. "What's that computer technician's name?"
"Sarah Heikkinen," John said carefully. "Europeans have such odd names!"
Simon nodded wryly and went on his way. He'd have the woman transferred by the end of the day. She could be put somewhere she couldn't cause any mischief for John, or image problems for him, and encouraged to leave his employment after a few months. The lawyers could find a way to do it subtly. He looked back to see John watching him, his calm shell firmly back in place, and raised a hand in farewell.
Nothing was going to get in the way of his dragons.
" Ah!" Simon said, ducking as something shot past his face at top speed. The outside wired-off habitat was filled with rustles and strange cheeping noises. "What the hell?"
John stood upright in the centre of the path, laughing so hard he had to take his glasses off and wipe his eyes.
"It's all right! He won't eat you! Though he's partial to sparrows." He took a heavy glove from his pocket and pulled it on, holding up a lump of bloody meat and calling out soothingly in Chinese. There was another flash of movement and Simon gasped as a creature the size of an eagle shot into view, its four - four - wings outstretched and its long feathered tail trailing behind it to land with a thump on John's wrist.
"What is it?" he said, admiring the iridescent black feathers as the creature savaged the meat. He reached out a finger to stroke its back and it jerked its head up to glare at him with the most evil intent he'd ever seen in something that size. Prudently, he withdrew his hand.
"A microraptor," John said. "Forgeries of fossils were sold to collectors and institutions in the States – I brought you the real thing. He's mostly a glider – the wings on the back limbs are for stability." He sighed. "I've had to write my findings up as speculations based on limb shape, of course, not on observation. So far at least. Officially we did not waste scientific time and effort, not to mention state money, on bringing long dead fauna back to life. Unlike the decadent west, reanimating creatures for material gain and for the easily deluded to gape at." He grinned. "I look forward to publishing in western journals."
"It's still just another little bird –" Simon started.
"Just because birds are dinosaurs it doesn't mean all dinosaurs are birds," John said, and flung his fist upwards, giving the microraptor height to glide to a nearby branch. "He isn't a bird. Simon, I have to recreate my work here. I have my notes, I have the specimens – I need to make sure I can work properly in InGen's labs and with their people. Henry says one of the computer people has been to Beijing twice in the last two years; she's not ethnically Chinese, she has not personal or professional connections there. Do you think I'm doing anything that can't be explained as Henry exploiting the minor interests of a naïve nerd on research leave until I'm sure she's not a spy?"
"You're perfectly safe, John," Simon said. "Relax."
"Where's my green card? How's your preparation for my citizenship application?" John snapped. "I'm safe as long as I don't set foot off this island. Soon enough I'll be an alien who's overstayed his visa. I wanted things handled quietly and privately, but if I need to officially claim asylum -"
"Everything's in hand," Simon said. "Like you said, you're still officially on research leave. I'm guessing you didn't leave a letter detailing your travel plans?"
"No," John said, and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just stressed, I didn't mean to –"
"It's OK," Simon said. It was reassuring to see a crack in the smug surface John normally kept up. It made him seem more human, more likeable. Simon had always enjoyed helping people, and honestly, if someone who'd left their whole life, language and country behind didn't need a friendly hand – He knew the feeling. "These things take time," he said. "Even when you have connections. I'm doing everything legally – you'll be unassailable. Come on, John, you know I'm working to get things fixed. You're my secret weapon here!" He lowered his voice to add conspiratorially, "Don't tell Henry I said that."
"Thanks," John said, and smiled. "I had a whole flock of those back home," he said, nodding at the microraptor, which was watching them avidly, as if wondering if it could take them.
"It's nice to see one here."
"Do you think they'd make good pets too?"
"Yeah. But it'd have to be your only pet. Poor Fluffy would meet an untimely end."
Simon laughed along with him, feeling a little guilty. "You make me a flock of those, if it makes you less homesick," he said, and John snorted with dry amusement, shaking a cigarette out of his pack. He offered one to Simon, who refused it. He was sure that smoking wasn't really allowed near the animals, but well, John had made them – if he wanted to blow smoke over them, why not?
"I'm working up in size," John said. "But I should probably make you a few actual dinosaurs for your zoo first."
"It's not really a zoo."
"Simon, it's a zoo. It's just one for prehistoric creatures, not mythological ones."
"You were making zoo animals?"
John smiled, and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "No. But did you want a unicorn?"
Simon laughed at the thought. He did, now the possibility had been brought up. Achingly. He tamped down the image of moonlight on silvery manes and horns. "What if I said, "John, make me a few mermaids?"
"I suppose I'd have to say, Why, Simon, working on human DNA like that would be terribly unethical," John said. His smile turned sly. "Then I might say, How close am I to becoming a citizen?"
"Henry's right, you have a terrible sense of humour," Simon said. "Put the mermaids on the back-burner for now. I'm happy with dinosaurs."
"You'll get them. And you'll get the dragons too," John said.
"OK." Simon turned away and then turned back. He could at least put the man's mind at ease. "What's that computer technician's name?"
"Sarah Heikkinen," John said carefully. "Europeans have such odd names!"
Simon nodded wryly and went on his way. He'd have the woman transferred by the end of the day. She could be put somewhere she couldn't cause any mischief for John, or image problems for him, and encouraged to leave his employment after a few months. The lawyers could find a way to do it subtly. He looked back to see John watching him, his calm shell firmly back in place, and raised a hand in farewell.
Nothing was going to get in the way of his dragons.
no subject
Date: 2022-05-06 05:18 pm (UTC)That's the spirit, John. Delighted to see he has Simon wrapped around his finger. This should be fine. XD
no subject
Date: 2022-05-06 05:50 pm (UTC)*examines his notes* Ah yes. Mermaids.