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The South Downs, particularly in spring, is one of the most idyllic places in Southern England. With hundreds of miles of rolling hillside, complete with panoramic views, this is the English countryside at it’s quintessential best.
Or so claimed the notice board that Stephen Hart was currently hunkered down behind. He, personally, was having doubts.
It was a mild day in mid-March, and the team was dealing with an anomaly call-out at Butser Hill, several miles north of Petersfield, Hampshire.
The countryside, Stephen thought, was certainly attractive. The chalk hillside was steep, and the views from where they were currently situated were breathtaking. The grass was a rich even green, occasionally dotted in the distance with fluffy white sheep, and everywhere you looked brightly coloured spring bulbs were bursting forth with life.
In terms of beauty, it certainly had potential.
So it was a shame, really, about the two prehistoric lizards happily engaged in a battle to the death not twenty feet away.
They were something of a blot on the landscape.
The history books portrayed sauropods as herbivorous, mild-mannered creatures, more likely to run from danger than to attack.
Stephen, watching Connor diving gracelessly to the floor to avoid a swinging tail, could conclude quite confidently that the history books were talking bollocks.
There was absolutely nothing mild-mannered about the carnage in front of them. The ground for several square feet was torn up, and liberally blood stained, the air was frequently split with roars of pain and rage, and about forty centimetres in front of Stephen lay a large portion of dismembered tail.
And to think, not ten minutes ago, they’d been under the happy impression that this anomaly was going to be a walk in the park. Upon arrival, the scene that had greeted them had been strangely tranquil.
An anomaly hovered, suspended in the usual fashion, about four feet off the ground. It’s shards twinkled and flashed, merrily mocking Stephen as the ruins of his Sunday hung in tatters.
Nestled gently into the curve of the hillside, its head protruding considerably over the clump of bushes it was settled in, was a single sauropod.
They’d all piled out of the SUV, and approached with caution; Captain Ryan and his men spreading out to form a defensive semi-circle around the creature.
"What is it?" Abby had asked.
"Some kind of sauropod, I think," Cutter had replied, face lit up like a little boy at Christmas. "Herbivorous, mild-mannered, late Jurassic. Beautiful."
And, unfortunately, slightly out of place on an English hillside.
Ryan had looked over at Stephen.
"Tranq it?" he’d asked, "or try to ‘persuade’ it back through?"
The sauropod also looked in Stephen’s direction, head tilted, expression enquiring.
Stephen had run his eyes over the vast bulk of the creature, mentally comparing the amount of tranquilliser per dart with the amount required to bring down what would essentially be a moving tank.
"Hit it with three darts, make it sleepy. Then try to herd it through. No point in knocking it out cold, we’d never be able to shift it. Cutter?"
Nick had nodded, focus still on the creature, which by then had closed its eyes and was gently nodding its head, as though it agreed whole-heartedly with everything being said.
"Yup. Sounds alright to me."
"Um…guys?" Connor’s voice had floated over Stephen’s left shoulder in a strangled squawk.
"Wha…?" Abby’s questioning response had been cut off mid-word, followed abruptly by, "shit."
Ryan and his men had turned, gazes fixed on a point behind Stephen’s head. Ryan was professional enough that his expression didn’t give anything away, but the sauropod seated behind him looked horrified.
Stephen had turned slowly, simultaneously needing to know and really not wanting to. Beside him, Cutter did the same.
"Oh, fuck."
Short and succinct it might have been, but it was a perfectly apt description.
"What," Ryan’d hissed, "the hell is that?"
Cutter’s reply had been cut off mid-sentence, as with an earth-shattering roar, approximately three tonnes of reptilian fury had descended on them like the business end of a steamroller.
They’d parted like the Red Sea, although the charging Megalosaurus had made the least convincing Moses Stephen had ever seen.
Cutter, Abby and three of Ryan’s team had gone left. Stephen, Ryan and Connor had gone right. The remaining two Special Forces soldiers had dived straight behind the bushes that concealed (or not, as the case turned out to be) the sauropod.
Stephen had barely had time to register Cutter and the others disappearing behind a hedgerow and Connor diving into a nearby ditch, before a hard yank on his arm had reunited him with Ryan, behind a handily placed information board.
Seconds later, the Megalosaurus’ tail had whipped through the air where his head had been.
Crouched next to him, Ryan had raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Okay?"
"Thanks," Stephen had murmured.
After that, things had gone a little more their way. In a turn of events that was as rare as it was refreshing, the Megalosaurus had shown considerably more interest in traditional food, and had set it’s sights firmly on the sauropod rather than on sampling the local cuisine.
Which was how, some minutes later, they were all still flattened to the floor in various hiding places, watching a nice re-enactment of Jurassic Park as the unfortunate sauropod was torn limb from limb. Very literally.
By the time Stephen thought it might be safe to chance another look, the roars had mostly faded, to be replaced by satisfied slurping, and the slapping of flesh. About thirty feet away, he could make out the very top of Nick’s blonde head cautiously rising over the rim of the hedge.
Beside him, Ryan made a couple of quick hand gestures. His men began to emerge from various pieces of shrubbery, and spread out to form a perimeter.
At a safe distance Stephen followed, carefully edging his way in Nick’s direction.
His partner met him halfway, blonde hair tousled in every direction of the compass, and liberally decorated with twigs. Nick’s eyes were wide with awe, and even bluer than usual as they watched – still crouched low, and at a safe distance – the huge carnivore relishing what was clearly the Jurassic equivalent of Sunday lunch.
The huge jaws, which could probably have swallowed Stephen, Ryan and Nick in one gulp, and still had room for Abby, methodically stripped the flesh, chewing and slurping with obvious satisfaction. Small mean eyes flickered yellow in the vast head, but the creature had obviously already decided that the humans were far too puny and insignificant to warrant any kind of attention beyond a disdainful glance.
"Megalosaurus?" Stephen asked.
Nick nodded, shooting him one of his rare, brilliant smiles.
"My best guess, yes."
A moment later, Abby appeared on Nick’s right.
"What are we going to do with it now?" she whispered.
Nick shrugged, running one hand absentmindedly over his chin.
"As long as he’s eating, he won’t bother us. Disturbing him before he’s finished, however, would be an exceedingly bad idea."
"That might be a problem, Professor," Connor said.
"Why?"
A compass was thrust under their noses.
"Anomaly’s weakening. Magnetic field is only half the strength it was."
"Bollocks. How long?"
Connor shrugged, looking uneasy.
'Understand I’d only be guessing here, but I’d say, less than half an hour."
"Do you think it’ll go back through after it’s finished eating?" Abby didn’t sound as though she was really holding out much hope for that as a possibility.
Nick and Stephen exchanged a glance.
"From past experiences? I doubt it. It’s made an easy kill here, and it’s definitely not stupid."
Ryan joined them, gun steadily trained on the Megalosaurus.
"What’s the verdict, Professor? Kill it? Or tranq it? I’m going out on a limb here, and deciding that trying to herd that thing back through is something I’d rather not attempt."
Nick turned to Stephen.
"Can you tranq it quickly enough?"
"Yes. But bundling it back through the anomaly would be next to impossible without some kind of heavy lifting equipment."
"Kill it then?" Ryan said.
There was a long pause.
"Professor?"
Despite the situation, Stephen found himself both amused and endeared by the agonised look on Nick’s face.
Abby spoke up.
"Cutter, I know that killing these creatures isn’t the answer but in this case I don’t see what other…"
A roar cut her off, so loud that even the anomaly seemed to shake.
Ten pairs of alarmed eyes - eleven if you count the Megalosaurus - swivelled to the anomaly.
Stephen found himself praying that nothing else would come through. In the Jurassic, Golden Era of the dinosaurs, the general rule of play was that no matter how big you were, there was always something bigger.
The roar sounded again.
"Did that sound closer to anyone else?" Connor muttered.
"Shhh," Nick said, gesturing to the Megalosaurus, "watch him."
The Megalosaurus was behaving very oddly. Its head was cocked to one side as though it was listening hard, and it kept raising its nose to scent the air.
A third outraged bellow rent the air.
"For us to hear that, the creature must be right on the other side of the anomaly," Nick whispered in Stephen’s ear.
Which was a thought Stephen had been trying extremely hard to suppress.
Behind him Abby whimpered and Connor took a step back, moving behind Ryan.
In front of them, the Megalosaurus dropped its head back to the sauropod. However, instead of continuing to feast, it slotted its jaws neatly around the carcass, and lifted.
"What the hell is it doing?" Ryan hissed.
Nick was grinning like a fool, the smile that Stephen had fallen in love with, and bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.
"Someone’s calling it home."
And sure enough, to everyone’s astonishment – because when were they ever this lucky? – the Megalosaurus, half-lifting, half-dragging it’s prey, lurched back through the anomaly.
Which, very considerately, promptly closed.
"I cannot," Abby murmured, sounding shell-shocked, "believe that just happened."
"Why did it go back?" Ryan sounded like someone had just told him Lester was tap dancing naked on the roof of the ARC.
"It was only a baby," Nick replied, a fondness in his tone that should really be reserved for rainbows and baby rabbits, "I think it’s mother had just realised it was missing."
"That was a baby?"
"Fossil estimates put Megalosaurus at approximately nine metres in length. That one was four or five at best."
"Didn’t do the sauropod much good either way," Connor said, poking at a lump of congealing flesh with the toe of his boot.
"Poor thing." There was genuine remorse in Abby’s voice, and Stephen had to bite back a smile at the incredulous look Ryan shot her.
"Either way, it’s made our job one hell of a lot easier. I wasn’t looking forward to supervising the removal of that carcass. Now all we’ve got left is a few bits and pieces."
"We should check the area," Connor said, "if there was time for that sauropod to come through, god knows what else could be lurking."
As though to confirm the sense of this, a shout of "Captain Ryan! Professor! Over here!" came from one of Ryan’s men over by the clump of bushes the sauropod had originally been sat in.
Nick’s eyes met Stephen’s, tinged slightly with alarm, and together they took off for the bushes, Connor and Abby hard on their heels.
"What? What is it?" Ryan demanded.
The soldier pointed into the centre of the flattened gorse.
"In there, Captain."
Nick had come to a direct halt in front of Stephen, so when he murmured, "Oh my god," Stephen couldn’t at first see what he was looking at.
Then he shifted sideways, and Stephen was given a perfect view. He found himself echoing Cutter’s sentiments exactly.
"Oh my god."
The gorse had been flattened by the weight of the sauropod, and now, right in the centre of the broken foliage, sat a large, white egg.
Connor made a noise like an excited guinea pig on helium.
Nick stared in silence for a few moments, before turning to Stephen with a grin the size of a slice of melon.
"I knew there was a reason the sauropod stayed to fight instead of running."
"Protecting her young," Abby sighed.
Ryan just shook his head.
"Lester’s going to have an embolism."
*-*-*-*
In the end they managed to avoid the embolism, but Lester’s eyes did stray longingly to the staple gun on his desk, as if imagining it in close proximity with somewhere sensitive of Cutter’s.
"Please," he said, as Cutter produced the egg with a proud flourish, as though he’d laid it himself. "Please tell me that’s made of papier mache."
The expression Connor wore suggested he couldn’t possibly understand anyone being anything less than utterly thrilled at the prospect of a real life dinosaur egg.
"Nope," Nick had said, clearly entirely too cheerily for Lester’s blood pressure, "genuine sauropod egg. From the Jurassic."
"I don’t care whether it’s from the Jurassic, the Permian, or the bloody shelves at Asda, why is it in my office, and not languishing several millions of years in the past?"
"The anomaly’s closed," Connor informed him happily, "closed before we even realised the egg was here."
Lester inhaled sharply, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"And what," he asked, "do you propose we do with it now? Do you think we’re going to hatch it?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"It’s an egg," Connor pointed out, "what else are we going to do with it?"
"Scramble it?" Lester suggested. "Although I suppose if it’s from the Jurassic, it’s probably a bit past it’s sell-by-date."
Cutter didn’t look hugely amused by this witticism.
"Can we send it back?" Abby asked.
Nick shook his head.
"We could monitor the anomaly site, see if it re-opens, but even if it does, without a mother to protect it, it wouldn’t last an hour."
"Which is our problem why?"
Connor’s self control finally broke, with a snap that was almost audible.
"Can we keep it? Please?"
"Of course you cannot keep it, Temple. Use your bloody brain – what would you do with a pet saucypod?"
"Sauropod," Nick corrected. "And actually, that could be a possibility."
"How?" Stephen asked, intrigued despite himself.
"The mother that we saw wasn’t that big, was she? Maybe a…metre, metre and a half long at best?" Nick was looking at him for confirmation.
Stephen shrugged.
"That would be my estimate. And maybe my height when standing upright."
"Exactly," Nick said, "so not too big. And sauropods were herbivorous. There’d be no risk of it trying to devour the unsuspecting public."
"Where were you thinking of keeping it?" Lester asked exasperatedly, "the garden shed?"
Watching Nick’s look turn to one of contemplation, Stephen thought it best to step in.
"Oh no," he said, hurriedly, "it’s not living with us, Cutter."
"Or us," Abby added, as Connor’s mouth started to open.
Nick pouted at Stephen.
"You spoil all my fun," he said. "And anyway, it wouldn’t have to live with any of us. It could stay here. We’ve already got Rex, and the mammoth…it’d just be another addition to the menagerie. Except this one would be a genuine twenty-first century citizen."
Connor looked delighted.
"The first dinosaur to be bred in captivity," he murmured, "cool."
Lester opened his mouth. And then closed it again. And then opened it.
"Oh for heaven’s sakes," he snapped.
"Is that a yes?" Connor asked.
"Get out of my office. All of you. Go on, now."
They trooped out, Abby carefully cradling the egg in her arms. Stephen eyed it apprehensively. Since the incident in the creature cage, his appreciation for all things prehistoric and living had taken a considerable hit.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked Nick.
All his lover did was grin in return, and exchange a jubilant high five with Connor.
*-*-*-*
Two months later, the egg was still happily languishing in the world’s largest home-made incubator. Cobbled together by Abby and Connor, and then rebuilt more sensibly by Nick and Stephen, the structure was about four foot wide and three foot deep, with five heating lamps strung carefully from the ceiling.
The egg was settled comfortably on a bed of straw a foot deep, and checked every hour on the hour.
For weeks, there had been absolutely no signs of life, and Nick, worry starting to line his eyes had begun reading every paper about sauropod reproduction he could lay his hands on.
Sadly, but not that surprisingly, no palaeontologist seemed prepared to give a conclusive estimate on how long it took to hatch a dinosaur.
"Maybe it got too cold when it was exposed?" he said to Stephen one day, peering in at the egg, and looking for all the world like a fretting mother hen.
Reaching over to plant a quick kiss on Nick’s cheek, Stephen had merely said,
"Give it time, Cutter."
And he’d been right. The day before Easter Sunday, with timing so impeccable even Lester would have to be impressed, the egg started to hatch.
Abby had come skidding into the control room of the ARC, hair all over the place, and cheeks flushed, and in a voice that cracked with excitement halfway through the sentence, announced,
"It’s hatching."
There had been a brief pause, and then a frenetic flurry of movement. Word spread, and within five minutes, every member of the team was gathered in front of the incubator, including Lester, much to everyone’s surprise.
A large crack, approximately four inches in length, spread from the top of the egg, halfway down one side.
"Oh my god," Cutter had breathed, gripping Stephen’s arm, excitement causing his accent to become much more pronounced than usual.
"It’s hatching, it’s actually hatching!" If Nick sounded more Scottish than usual, then Connor’s voice had risen at least two octaves.
A tapping sound echoed from inside the egg.
"Quick, quick," Abby said, "we’re going to need some supplies."
"Supplies?" Lester asked, suspicion etched in every syllable.
Abby nodded, blue eyes glinting with excitement.
"Towels, some water, and something to tempt his appetite. He’ll be hungry after all that time in the egg."
"And you know this how?"
Abby shrugged.
"I was a keeper in the reptile centre at Wellington Zoo. I’ve never hatched a dinosaur before, but I’ve done my share of orphaned lizards. How different can it be?"
Lester closed his eyes.
"Right," Abby took control. "Connor, I need a shallow dish, maybe two inches deep, filled with tepid water. Nick, try and find some vegetables, or hay from the menagerie kitchen, and grab me one of the feeding syringes and some glucose water. Stephen, infirmary, get towels."
They all turned to obey.
"What about me?" Lester asked.
Abby looked astounded at the offer of help.
"You just stay here and watch him."
Stephen almost laughed at the look of horror on Lester’s face.
*-*-*-*
When Stephen returned, bearing several of the fluffiest towels he could lay hand to, it was to find Lester, standing stock still, and staring into the cage in mute shock.
Depositing his armful on the nearest flat surface, he took a couple of steps forward to the other man’s side.
"Okay?" he asked.
Lester’s voice sounded strangled.
"Look," he said.
Stephen did.
And in the cage, shivering slightly, blinking in the bright light and still covered in strings of gelatinous fluid, was a tiny baby sauropod.
It was about seven inches long, with enormous eyes, and as Stephen stared, enraptured, it sneezed, shaking its head from side to side in bewilderment.
Enchanted, Stephen could do nothing but watch, vaguely aware of different sets of footsteps approaching, until the whole team was reassembled in front of the glass.
"The miracle of new life," Nick murmured in his ear, giving his hand a quick squeeze, and Stephen couldn’t help but agree.
Abby was clinging to Lester’s arm, tears in her eyes. Lester looked considerably uncomfortable, but not actively displeased.
After a few minutes or so, Abby spoke.
"One of us should go in there. He’ll need a bit of mothering."
"He?" Lester asked.
Abby nodded.
"Look at the crest on the back of the head."
"You go, Abby," Nick said, and Stephen felt a rush of warmth for his partner, knowing full well that Nick must be desperate to get inside the cage.
"Sure?" Abby asked, already moving towards the door.
"Oh, absolutely."
Carefully, Abby opened the cage door as quietly as possible, and stepped inside.
Crouching low, in an attempt not to seem so imposing, she moved towards the tiny creature, which backed off, shaking it’s head, and chittering in warning.
She made several more attempts to approach, crooning in a soft voice, but the little reptile was having none of it.
Eventually, Abby looked up.
"He’s too frightened, I’m just stressing him out. There must be something about me he doesn’t like."
Standing up, she backed slowly out of the cage, looking slightly hurt.
"Maybe you should try, Cutter? You were quite a hit with the dodos."
Nick shrugged.
"If you think it’ll make a difference."
Stephen watched as his partner worked his way inside the cage in much the same way Abby had done. Nick tried a different tactic once inside, offering food in an outstretched hand, but as soon as he got too close, the reptile took a snap at him.
Nick looked up at Abby.
"No good," he said, "sorry."
He re-emerged, brushing straw from his jeans, and they peered inside the cage. The sauropod was shivering in the far corner of the incubator, looking very sorry for himself.
"Maybe Conn should give it a go?" Abby suggested.
An idea suddenly struck Stephen.
"No," he said, "no, let Lester."
Lester looked incredulous.
"I think not, Mr Hart," he said.
Abby’s eyes caught Stephen’s and he raised an eyebrow fractionally, asking her to trust him. She caught on.
"Please, Lester," she pleaded, "look at him. Just give it a try."
Stephen widened his own eyes at Lester, shamelessly puppy dog.
"I’ve got a good feeling about this," he assured him, ignoring the weight of Nick’s questioning gaze.
Lester looked increasingly uncomfortable, but it didn’t escape Stephen’s notice that his eyes remained firmly on the baby reptile.
After a long pause, he snapped.
"Oh for heaven’s sakes, fine," he snarled.
He wrenched the cage door open, and took a quick step through, shutting it briskly behind him with a loud thud.
Abby winced.
"That’s not going to help," she muttered, "Lester! Tread a bit more softly, will you?"
Lester’s glare could have frozen molten lava.
"Wait," Connor interjected, "look at the sauropod."
They did.
The little reptile had straightened up, and was now staring at Lester with an expression that could only be described as adoring.
When Lester heaved a long-suffering sigh, and crouched down, calling out, "Come here, you stupid lizard," it launched delightedly to it’s feet, and quickly as wobbly legs hampered by deep straw could, approached, tail and neck waving in delighted tandem.
Lester looked astounded. He wasn’t the only one.
"What the…." Nick muttered, watching as the sauropod cheerfully batted its head against Lester’s knee.
Tentatively, Lester reached out a finger and scratched it under the chin. It chirruped ecstatically.
"How is he doing that?" Abby asked incredulously.
"I’d quite like an answer to that as well, Hart," Lester sounded bewildered.
Stephen grinned. His hunch had been correct.
"When the sauropod hatched, Lester was the first living thing he saw. You know what they say about reptiles…"
A grin started to spread slowly across Nick’s face.
"You don’t mean to say…?" he asked.
Stephen nodded.
Lester looked down at the sauropod, now chewing the end of his tie in obvious delight.
A look of horror spread across his face.
"Oh, no."
Nick looked like all his Christmas’ had come at once.
"Oh, yes," he said. "Everybody, say hello to Daddy."
Fin