Jurassic Park (Jurassic Park 1)

"Perhaps I should go to the control room and check," Wu said.

"No, no," Hammond said, "There's no reason. If there were any problem, we'd hear about it. Ah."

Maria came back into the room, with two plates of ice cream.

"You must have just a little, Henry," Hammond said. "It's made with fresh ginger, from the eastern part of the island. It's an old man's vice, ice cream. But still . . ."

Dutifully, Wu dipped his spoon. Outside, lightning flashed, and there was the sharp crack of thunder. "That was close," Wu said. "I hope the storm isn't frightening the children."

"I shouldn't think so," Hammond said. He tasted the ice cream. "But I can't help but hold some fears about this park, Henry."

Inwardly, Wu felt relieved. Perhaps the old man was going to face the facts, after all. "What kind of fears?"

"You know, Jurassic Park's really made for children. The children of the world love dinosaurs, and the children are going to delight-just delight-in this place. Their little faces will shine with the joy of finally seeing these wonderful animals. But I am afraid . . . I may not live to see it, Henry. I may not live to see the joy on their faces."

"I think there are other problems, too," Wu said, frowning.

"But none so pressing on my mind as this," Hammond said, "that I may not live to see their shining, delighted faces. This is our triumph, this park. We have done what we set out to do. And, you remember, our original intent was to use the newly emerging technology of genetic engineering to make money. A lot of money."

Wu knew Hammond was about to launch into one of his old speeches. He held up his hand. "I'm familiar with this, John-"

"If you were going to start a bioengineering company, Henry, what would you do? Would you make products to help mankind, to fight illness and disease? Dear me, no. That's a terrible idea. A very poor use of new technology."

Hammond shook his head sadly. "Yet, you'll remember," he said, "the original genetic engineering companies, like Genentech and Cetus, were all started to make pharmaceuticals. New drugs for mankind. Noble, noble purpose. Unfortunately, drugs face all kinds of barriers. FDA testing alone takes five to eight years-if you're lucky. Even worse, there are forces at work in the marketplace. Suppose you make a miracle drug for cancer or heart disease-as Genentech did. Suppose you now want to charge a thousand dollars or two thousand dollars a dose. You might imagine that is your privilege. After all, you invented the drug, you paid to develop and test it; you should be able to charge whatever you wish. But do you really think that the government will let you do that? No, Henry, they will not. Sick people aren't going to pay a thousand dollars a dose for needed medication-they won't be grateful, they'll be outraged. Blue Cross isn't going to pay it. They'll scream highway robbery. So something will happen. Your patent application will be denied. Your permits will be delayed. Something will force you to see reason-and to sell your drug at a lower cost. From a business standpoint, that makes helping mankind a very risky business. Personally, I would never help mankind."

Wu had heard the argument before. And he knew Hammond was right, some new bioengineered pharmaceuticals had indeed suffered inexplicable delays and patent problems.

"Now," Hammond said, "think how different it is when you're making entertainment, Nobody needs entertainment. That's not a matter for government intervention. If I charge five thousand dollars a day for my park, who is going to stop me? After all, nobody needs to come here. And, far from being highway robbery, a costly price tag actually increases the appeal of the park. A visit becomes a status symbol, and all Americans love that. So do the Japanese, and of course they have far more money."

Hammond finished his ice cream, and Maria silently took the dish away. "She's not from here, you know," he said. "She's Haitian. Her mother is French. But in any case, Henry, you will recall that the original purpose behind pointing my company in this direction in the first place-was to have freedom from government intervention, anywhere in the world."

"Speaking of the rest of the world . . ."

Hammond smiled. "We have already leased a large tract in the Azores, for Jurassic Park Europe. And you know we long ago obtained an island near Guam, for Jurassic Park Japan. Construction on the next two Jurassic Parks will begin early next year. They will all be open within four years. At that time, direct revenues will exceed ten billion dollars a year, and merchandising, television, and ancillary rights should double that. I see no reason to bother with children's pets, which I'm told Lew Dodgson thinks we're planning to make."

"Twenty billion dollars a year," Wu said softly, shaking his head.

"That's speaking conservatively," Hammond said. He smiled. "There's no reason to speculate wildly. More ice cream, Henry?"

"Did you find him?" Arnold snapped, when the guard walked into the control room.

"No, Mr. Arnold."

"Find him."

"I don't think he's in the building, Mr. Arnold."

"Then look in the lodge," Arnold said, "look in the maintenance buildIng, look in the utility shed, look everywhere, but just find him."

"The thing is . . ." The guard hesitated. "Mr. Nedry's the fat man, is that right?"

"That's right," Arnold said. "He's fat. A fat slob."

"Well, Jimmy down in the main lobby said he saw the fat man go into the garage."

Muldoon spun around. "Into the garage? When?"

"About ten, fifteen minutes ago."

"Jesus," Muldoon said.

The Jeep screeched to a stop. "Sorry," Harding said.

In the headlamps, Ellie saw a herd of apatosaurs lumbering across the road. There were six animals, each the size of a house, and a baby as large as a full-grown horse. The apatosaurs moved in unhurried silence, never looking toward the Jeep and its glowing headlamps. At one point, the baby stopped to lap water from a puddle in the road, then moved on.

A comparable herd of elephants would have been startled by the arrival of a car, would have trumpeted and circled to protect the baby. But these animals showed no fear. "Don't they see us?" she said.

"Not exactly, no," Harding said. "Of course, in a literal sense they do see us, but we don't really mean anything to them. We hardly ever take cars out at night, and so they have no experience of them. We are just a strange, smelly object in their environment. Representing no threat, and therefore no interest. I've occasionally been out at night, visiting a sick animal, and on my way back these fellows blocked the road for an hour or more.

"What do you do?"

Harding grinned. "Play a recorded tyrannosaur roar. That gets them moving. Not that they care much about tyrannosaurs. These apatosaurs are so big they don't really have any predators. They can break a tyrannosaur's neck with a swipe of their tail. And they know it. So does the tyrannosaur."

"But they do see us. I mean, if we were to get out of the car . . ."

Harding shrugged. "They probably wouldn't react. Dinosaurs have excellent visual acuity, but they have a basic amphibian visual system: it's attuned to movement. They don't see unmoving things well at all."

The animals moved on, their skin glistening in the rain. Harding put the car in gear. "I think we can continue now," he said.

Wu said, "I suspect you may find there are pressures on your park, just as there are pressures on Genentech's drugs." He and Hammond had moved to the living room, and they were now watching the storm lash the big glass windows.

"I can't see how," Hammond said.

"The scientists may wish to constrain you. Even to stop you.

"Well, they can't do that, " Hammond said. He shook his finger at Wu. "You know why the scientists would try to do that? It's because they want to do research, of course. That's all they ever want to do, is research. Not to accomplish anything. Not to make any progress. Just do research. Well, they have a surprise coming to them."

"I wasn't thinking of that," Wu said.

Hammond sighed. "I'm sure it would be interesting for the scientists, to do research. But you arrive at the point where these animals are simply too expensive to be used for research. This is wonderful technology, Henry, but it's also frightfully expensive technology. The fact is, it can only be supported as entertainment." Hammond shrugged. "That's just the way it is."

"But if there are attempts to close down-"

"Face the damn facts, Henry," Hammond said irritably. "This isn't America. This isn't even Costa Rica. This is my island. I own it. And nothing is going to stop me from opening Jurassic Park to all the children of the world." He chuckled. "Or, at least, to the rich ones. And I tell you, they'll love it."

In the back seat of the Jeep, Ellie Sattler stared out the window. They had been driving through rain-drenched jungle for the last twenty minutes, and had seen nothing since the apatosaurs crossed the road.

"We're near the jungle river now," Harding said, as he drove. "It's off there somewhere to our left."

Abruptly he slammed on the brakes again, The car skidded to a stop in front of a flock of small green animals. "Well, you're getting quite a show tonight," he said. "Those are compys."