Chapter 8: The Refuge


Anne reached the top of the stairs, continuing across the walkway. She passed underneath the fossil mural around the entry frame, coming to a stop at the two double doors.

She extended her arms, pushing open the double doors as she stepped inside.

The entrance hall of the building was huge. The entire room was circular, with two halls leading away on the end to the left and right, as well as one in the very back. All around were cracked paintings of various dinosaurs, and a set of large spiral stairs led up on the right wall to the second floor.

In the vortex of the spiral curve, in the middle of the room, was a stage, which was littered with the remains of large bones that had fallen apart. They were scattered all over, and she could even see a huge ribcage resting on a fairly large bone nearby.

On one wall, which had no doubt never been finished, was a gaping hole leading outside. The remains of a white covering flapped lightly: something large had once smashed through them.

“I know this place…Hammond talked about it in his memoirs, and even the survivors talked about it. This must be the Visitor’s Center. It’s got to be.”

She turned her gaze upward to the second floor, which surrounded the back arc of the lower floor with a balcony guarded by brown rails connecting the rails of the stairwell.

“The second floor. That was the floor where I’ll find something useful…Hammond said they had their labs and control center up there, I’ll check it out first.”

—–

Anne had climbed up the spiral stairs around the lobby area, reaching the second floor of the Visitor’s Center.

The hall extended in an arc to both sides, but was nearly devoid of any doors; covered in only paintings. There were two doors, one at the far point of each end of the arc.

A sign on the wall ahead pointed right to the “Showcase Theater.”

“Theater?”

She followed the wall, passing the various fading murals on her left. She could see various dinosaurs in their habitats represented in the paintings: a pair of Parasaurolophus at the edge of the lagoon with the rest of the herd in the distance; a raptor watching from the adjacent mural from the jungle; and a small group of Triceratops making their way over a plain.

When she reached the door, she opened it, entering a hall. There was a door to her left marking the entrance to the “theater,” while a darkened glass door at the end of the hall was marked: “Personnel Entrance.”

She headed for the theater door. It was already slightly ajar, and she slowly nudged it open, peeking inside before completely passing in.

The “theater” was fair-size, but not as large as she had been expecting. Maybe a third the size of a movie theater.

In the center of the room was a large, arced track-way, going away from the main theater area, into the rest of the building. The back wall was all rock except for a station window set at the top, where she could see the top of a projector, pointed at a large, blackened screen to the right of the door, covering the wall.

She looked at the track and the screen. “So visitors watched something here, and then were moved on this track elsewhere. The visitor facility tour.”

She hopped down onto the arc track. “Looks like I’ll be taking the tour on foot.”

She started walking down the track, which slowly bent to the left in the darkness, until she could see light after several moments of walking.

The wall to her right ended at a large glass window, replacing the wall. It looked in on a laboratory, which she stopped at, looking through the glass to the inside.

Several incubators were lining the glass, with metal crane claws attached to the side. Old hay lined the open incubators, and there were crumbled eggs on top. Computers and equipment rimmed the room, while a large metal ramp lined the back wall, with a set of stairs on the far right leading down to the lab’s base.

To the left, the ramp disappeared down a hall, but in the middle, it curved around a small room built up in the back. There were glass windows, and she could read “Cryogenic Storage” plastered on a sliding door marking its only entry. There were cylinders inside the room that she could see, but her vantage to tell what they were wasn’t great.

But what caught her attention was that there was light on in the lab. It’s been over a decade since the island was abandoned…Yet the power is still on?

She turned her mind back to the track, which continued on, but shortly. A door was ahead of her, next to the window—which she could see did not lead into the lab—followed by another glass window.

The second window stretched on longer than the lab’s, but stopped in front of it on the track was a seat stand, with several rows, almost like theater seats. There were several rows of seats, each with a raised pull-down protection bar attached to the back of the seat in front.

She walked toward it, passing the door to look inside the next window. The glass was heavily damaged, as if something had crashed through from her side to the control room successfully. The jagged edges of the glass rose up to her waist, and she could see several bullet holes to the right of the damage.

Inside was a large control room, with rows and clusters of computer monitors. Papers and trash filled the room, and many of the computers had been knocked over and damaged in the center of the room, with a ladder toppled over on one of the desks.

The ceiling was missing several grated panels, including one where she guessed the ladder had once been set up under. Like the lab, a ramp lined the right side of the room, with stairs leading down right next to the glass. A door perpendicular to the one on her side led into a hallway she could see. Red pipes ran parallel to the hallway ramp, while several over-sized, circular windows allowed her to see into it through the control room.

Close to the glass on the opposite side, lying on the ground was a gun. She could make out casings lying nearby, but the fact it had been discarded made her believe it was useless.

She turned away from the glass, heading to the door. She pulled down on the cold metal handle as she peered inside the hall through a porthole window at eye level.

The door swung up, echoing into the empty hallway. It was white, lit up like the lab. The red pipes she had seen ran on both sides of her at all levels, attached to the wall at both ends. She closed the door, turning to the door to the left to the computer room.

She changed her mind, walking down the hall to the first door on the right after passing up a small set of stairs. She looked inside the door’s porthole window, viewing another hall looking toward the sliding door to the Cryogenics Storage Room at the back of the lab.

She opened the door, following the new hallway until it opened up above the lab. The door to the cryogenics room was actually a split, sliding door which opened up into the walls enclosing it. There was no handle, and when she walked toward it, it didn’t open.

“Oh well…”

She moved her attention to the lab below, making her way down the stairs to the base. She examined the computers and equipment, some things of which she could vaguely remember seeing before.

There were storage shelves of needles and other medical supplies, all locked up. A large bookshelf stood against the wall opposite the stairs, past the incubators, and she walked toward it, seeing various files and folders lined up neatly.

She skimmed the labels: Herbivore Documentation for 1991-1992, Period Listing, Birth Records for 1992-1993. They went on and on, nearly each document or record having a folder for a specific yearly interval, marked and categorized.

She pulled down a folder marked ”Specie Records.”

She carried it over to a small, rotating chair and opened it up. A document on the inside read:

The following is species documentation for the dinosaurs living on Isla Nublar. Each record covers species development from birth to highest aged category member; distinction of birth, attitude, attributes, etc. More detailed files are within our base, but these are for general staff members to make notes and documentations on current statuses of any given product at any given time to a previous product.

– Henry Wu

She turned the page, viewing a species list. She read several of the names.

“Brachiosaurus…Dilophosaurus…Gallimimus…Stegosaurus…Velociraptor…” She finished reading out the names aloud, seeing that some of the names were unfamiliar, and that many she remembered being listed on Sorna were not on Nublar’s list, which compiled 15 names.

She flipped back to a page titled “Othnielia.” A picture on the page showed the same little dinosaur species she had seen in the trees earlier on. At the bottom of the page, notes were jotted down.

Our first successful batch of Othnielia occurred in 1990. Set for release in a small paddock, a group of ten “othys” (each labeled Othy-01 through Othy-10) were inserted into the Park. At birth, the species did fine, no irregularities in the DNA strain or creation hindering the outcome. In 1991, another batch was released (Othys -11 through -19) to a relatively popular habitat where the othys continually hopped the fences into the other paddocks. Other than the fence-hopping problem (meaning their tendency to escape) was the only nuisance; one that was, at the base of it, no threat.

“Othys?” Anne glanced at the documented release statistics and information about diets, treatment, and other maintenance fields. Aligned next to the picture itself were several horizontal bars with labels. She began reading the labels:

“Othnielia rex. Product Target: 16. Final Number: 16. Status: Successful. Version: 3.1.”

She moved on, flipping to a page titled “Maiasaurus.” On it was a picture of the dinosaurs she had seen mingling with the Parasaurs back on the lagoon who had brought along their young.

Her eyes dropped down to the notes:

The first herbivorous Maiasaur was set in the park in early 1990. “Maia” as we called her fell sick soon after, and passed away before we could incorporate her other hatch group members (who were kept due to worries about their birth outcome) into the Park alongside her. Although the disease was never fully followed up on, some of our scientists distinguish it as the possibility of loneliness, something Hammond has made sure to keep from happening again. The first Maiasaur herd that was formed occurred in September of 1990, which we followed up on with another group of 6 in 1991 to round off our goal number of 21. So far, none of the Maiasaurs have shown problems of any threatening sickness, or have stricken the mysterious death of “Maia” in 1990.

The info labels read:

“Maiasaura peeblesorum. Product Target: 21. Final Number: 21. Status: Successful. Version: 3.3.”

She turned to the very last page, entitled: “Opting Species.”

There was a list of specie names on the page:

Compsognathus: Awaiting Transfer Notice
Corythosaurus: Awaiting Transfer Notice.
Euplocephalids: Delayed. (Pending)
Pachycephalosaurus: Awaiting Transfer Notice
Pteranodon: Project Awaiting Finish Go-Ahead. *

She looked at the asterisk marker label, which read: “Pending overwrite of Cearodactyl species currently on Isla Nublar. Please see (Cearodactyl) reference page for details.”

A series of notes were occupying the bottom of the page:

Dr. Kantros has sent a full list of all current species living on Isla Nublar and in our creative home for both current and non-commercial species pending or otherwise. This document details all projects, and can be found in my back office. All staff will be updated with new project listings and version updates.

– Dr. H. Wu

“Hmm…’our creative home’ must be Sorna. And I wonder what the Pteranodon overwrite is all about…”

She flipped to the Cearodactyl page. A note replaced the record page, crudely tucked in.

Our observation of the omnivorous Cearodactyl species has shown different results than had been expecting. Full detail files of Cearodactly and replacement options have been moved to file “Aviary Lodge History,” located inside the Terrace Lab and a back-up in my office due to the current movement on replacement.

– Dr. H. Wu

She closed the folder, setting it down on the chair as she got up to examine a map on the wall next to the bookshelf.

It was a map of the second story area of the Visitor’s Center, showing the side access hall she had first entered, the theater, the lab, the main hall, the control room, and a back area with stairs, offices, and smaller conjoined lab areas all hidden from view from the theater ride.

Remote curiosity clicked inside, wanting to know more about what had been going on; to continue carrying over learning more about a history that had been lost—one that she knew she had discovered more about than any regular person should have.

“Too bad it’s all been first-hand…”

She turned away from the map, staring around the lab. “I need to find Lisa. I have to find a way to locate them somehow—I can’t just wait here and hope they come back, because they might not.”

Then get moving.

“Right.”

—–

Several minutes later, Anne found herself entering the control room across the hall. She took it all in, everything she had already seen from outside still fresh in her mind.

The gun near the base of the steps, by the window, seemed different, something about it not seeming familiar.

But the gun didn’t hold her gaze. Nearby, two computers were on, turned at an angle to face the chair in front of them.

She moved forward, sitting down in the chair. The computer on the right showed a computerized map of the island, outlining fences and building locations. The computer on the left was slowly cycling through security visuals of areas throughout the park, occasionally coming across a camera that was out.

At the bottom of the screen on the left, titles of the cameras cycled through in sync: “Park S5-103; Park S5-104; Park S5-105.”

“How did these get on?”

The top of another window stuck out behind the visual window, and she used the mouse to bring it up, hiding the camera shots. The InGen logo greeted her to one side, with a list of camera sectors lined up on the right.

“Tyrannosaur pen…East dock…Visitor’s Center…”

She stopped reading the list, clicking on Visitor’s Center. The computer whirred, the window she had sent back popping up once more and changing slowly to a menu of Visitor’s Center sectors:

Choose a Security Sector:
Front Area
Back Area
North Side
South Side
Main Entrance (1F)
Dining Room (1F)
Kitchen (1F)
Bathrooms (1F)
Closed Dining Room (1F)
History Hall (1F)
Back Hall (1F)
Balcony (2F)
Bathrooms (2F)
Staff Bathrooms (2F)
Theater (2F)
Primary Lab (2F)
Control Room (2F)
Conjoining Hall (2F)
North Hall (2F)
West Hall (2F)
Genetics Lab (2F)
Nursery (2F)
Embryonic Storage (2F)
West Staircase

She clicked “Control Room,” sending the computer into a quick whirring frenzy before the menu was sent back for a new window showing visuals of the control room. She saw herself sitting at the computers, the image listed as ConRoom1-04.

Anne brought the menu back up, circling the mouse around before choosing “Main Entrance.”

She immediately began receiving various images of the entrance hall, showing the bone destruction lying all over, and a faded old banner she had somehow missed, unable to make out what was printed on it.

Back in the menu, she chose “Back Area.” Images of the outside rear of the Visitor’s Center flashed by, allowing view of a road heading away behind to another large cluster of buildings in the same architectural demeanor as the Visitor’s Center.

She turned her attention to the computer with the visual layout of the island. Several tabs on the side allowed her to switch through various views of the map, including a topographical map.

She switched to a tab called “Tracking Movement Map.” Instantly, dozens of red and green dots appeared across the island, all of which were moving in some way or another.

Those must be the dinosaurs.

Everything seemed to fit in, except for a solitary blue dot moving slowly on the road inside the Park to the east, moving in a northern route.

A legend in the corner of the screen helped her indicate what it was. “Green are herbivores; red are carnivores; blue are unlisted moving objects.”

She clicked on the blue dot, bringing up a small window, reading: “Park E4-037. Would you like to view sector? Y or N.”

She clicked pressed ‘Y,’ cueing another window to pop up with a visual shot of the road.

But the object was already in E4-038.

She moved the mouse to E4-039, receiving the same message she had before. The camera view popped up, and she waited, leaning in. She was ahead of the object.

“It should be coming into view soon…”

As she spoke, the object came on screen, passing through at a quick rate.

It was clearly a jeep.