Chapter Text
"There it is!" Sun announces.
Disinterestedly, Blake looks up, following his pointed finger. Honestly, he's like an oversized kid, she thinks. He's standing right up on his seat, face practically pressed against the window, and his tail flicks eagerly from side-to-side-- so much for professionalism.
"Do you think we can see 'em from here?" he asks excitedly.
"Doubtful," Ilia says, fiddling with her scroll. She isn't even bothering looking up. "From what I saw of the map, none of the enclosures are near the port."
"Damn," he mutters, though he doesn't sit down. "What about one of the flying ones?"
"They keep those in special enclosures," Ilia replies. "Can't have them dive-bombing the tourists, right?"
"I guess," Sun replies, sounding a tad glum. "I was just hoping we'd see something by now. This place just looks like a regular island."
Blake hums in acknowledgement, but she's focused on her tablet again, going through her notes. The view of Isla Nublar from the ferry is a good one-- she had looked up for a quick glimpse at it, at least-- but she doesn't have the childlike wonder that Sun has. This island is just another island, and the only reason she's even here is for the article. If it hadn't been for the exclusivity of the story, she can't imagine she would have ever come at all.
In fact, it's hard to feel little more than disdain for Isla Nublar, and the creatures that inhabit it.
Sun is still chattering to a mindlessly nodding Ilia, but Blake tunes him out. She places a single earbud into one of her ears, and presses Play on the recording app on her scroll. She's been transcribing the interview from the day before, finding it a good way to kill time on the two-hour ferry ride.
In a way, the voice of Dr. Ozpin says into her ear, this is the closest thing to immortality we will ever experience. Even though the individual may pass on, it's proof that our essence can still be preserved. Frozen in amber, if you will. Frozen, and waiting, for that fresh spark of life. And that's the key our scientists on Isla Nublar have discovered: the spark of life. Death doesn't have to mean we're gone, Miss Belladonna. And now, we have the proof.
If Blake's fingers strike the keys on her portable keyboard with more force than usual, neither Sun nor Ilia comment on it. She'd found Dr. Ozpin to be an arrogant man, and transcribing the interview with him felt like pulling teeth. Immortality. What sort of person strove for immortality?
"I see the dock!" Sun announces, making no effort to stifle his wide grin. "We should go get our stuff!"
"That Weiss girl said someone would take our luggage right to the hotel," Ilia says, though she starts to pack up her camera to bring along. "We don't have to do a thing."
"Works for me," Blake mumbles, finally folding away her keyboard and pulling the earbud out. "Just make sure you both take any equipment we might need for today."
"Aye, aye, captain!" Sun says, giving her a salute. Despite her misgivings about the trip, Blake finally cracks a smile.
"Just behave yourselves while you're here. We can't have another coconut incident."
Ilia snorts at the memory, and Sun gives them both an innocent shrug. "What? I wouldn't do that here. This is one assignment I don't want to get kicked off of! Or worse…" He grins wickedly. "Eaten by a dinosaur!"
Blake's smile fades somewhat, though Ilia laughs and elbows him. "I wouldn't put it past you. If anyone could get eaten by a dinosaur, you would."
"I can't tell if I should be hurt or honored by that…"
"At least you're not taking it as a dare!"
"You never know!" Sun says with a wink. "Maybe I'll end up like that girl who got her arm bitten off by a dinosaur. I'll be famous!"
Blake lets their words wash over her, and she looks out the window as they pull up to the dock. The lush rainforests of Isla Nublar are beautiful, the waters crystalline. High above, the dormant volcano looms, a fitting backdrop for such an island, an ever-present reminder of Remnant's earliest days, long before humanity had sullied the earth with its footsteps. And now, it looks down upon them, an unwilling witness to the atrocities committed on this island.
Immortality, Blake thinks again disgustedly. As if humanity could wield such a thing.
With the ferry nearly empty, there's no jostling to get off the boat. That will probably change in the coming weeks, when the park finally opens to the public. This boat will be packed with tourists and screaming children, all of them hungry for the novelty of seeing one of these things up close. Blake knows that the island's resort has already been booked solid for months, practically from the moment that reservations opened up. Everyone wanted to come here, and see the results of the secretive workings of Clockwork Genetics for themselves.
For now, though, Blake is just grateful that her team would be the only press allowed here so early. The perks of being a reporter for one of the world's most prestigious magazines, she supposes.
They step onto the almost-empty dock and stare up at the sign.
Welcome to Jurassic Park, it reads. Blake grimaces slightly, and Ilia takes out her camera to snap a picture of it.
"Should we all pose under it?" she asks. Sun nods eagerly, and Blake gives a sharp shake of her head.
"I'm not posing in any of these shots."
"You're never any fun," Ilia mutters. "C'mon, Sun. I can get a picture for you, at least."
While he poses for pictures, Blake glances down at her scroll. She expects to see a text from their contact with the park-- a woman named Weiss Schnee-- but there's nothing there. But she doesn't even have time to be irritated before a voice calls to her from the shore.
"Blake Belladonna?"
A woman stands right at the end of the dock, a single hand raised in more of a beckoning gesture than a wave. Her outfit reminds Blake of someone who wants to look like they enjoy spending time in the woods, but actually only use the gear for the aesthetic. Jeans with a carefully weathered look, shiny leather boots, a loose-fitting white button-down that looks a little too flimsy, and a park-issue green fleece vest, the Jurassic Park logo embroidered on the breast. She wears her long white hair in a braid over her shoulder, a jeweled barrette carefully set into its base. Blake recognizes her from the park's website.
"Miss Schnee," she says formally, leaving Ilia and Sun (who quickly follow) to meet the former heiress of the Schnee Dust Company. She extends a hand just as she gets within her range. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise, Miss Belladonna," she replies, just as formally. Her eyes flicker to Ilia and Sun, who've finally caught up. "And this must be your team?"
"Ilia Amitola," Ilia says quickly, shaking Weiss's hand. "Photographer."
"Sun Wukong," Sun adds with a jaunty wave. "I do… about everything else."
"I see." Weiss looks Ilia over, nodding to herself, then gives Sun a vague look of disapproval as she looks him top to bottom. "Do you… usually wear your shirt like that, Mr. Wukong?"
Blake feels heat rise in her cheeks, and she shoots Sun a quick glare. She should've expected that he'd unbutton his shirt for a photo. He's a guy who's worked hard for his abs, and insists on showing them off at every given opportunity.
Button it up, she mouths at him. With an abashed laugh, he obliges.
"Sorry," he says, shrugging helplessly. "It was for a picture."
"A picture," Weiss repeats flatly.
"Well, yeah!" He points a finger up at the Welcome sign. "The way this place is booked up, who knows when I'll get a chance to take a picture here again!"
"Right…" she says, face unchanging. There's a scar over her left eye, Blake sees now. It gives her expression more severity than it might otherwise have.
"Anyway," Blake says, clearing her throat. "We are… very excited to be here."
She tries to infuse her voice with some enthusiasm, but from the grimaces both Ilia and Sun give her, she apparently hasn't been very successful. She tries to soften it with a smile, but fears it only looks strained. Fortunately, Weiss had already turned, leading them away.
"I'll show you around," she says, leading them to a rugged-looking tan jeep that definitely doesn't seem her style. "You have some people in mind that you wanted to interview, right?"
"I do," Blake says, pulling up the list on her scroll. "I already spoke with Dr. Ozpin yesterday. But I'm most interested in talking with Drs. Ruby Rose and Penny Polendina."
"Of course," Weiss says briskly, getting into the driver's seat. "They'd love a chance to talk to you about their work." She unlocks the doors. "Hop in."
Blake opens the door, getting into the front seat, while Ilia opens the door for one of the back ones. Sun, however, takes the hop in order literally, managing a clean jump over the side of the door, swinging from the frame, his tail bobbing for balance before he takes his seat. Blake spins in her own, scowling at him.
"Mr. Wukong," Weiss says, exasperatedly, but at least she doesn't sound angry. "The doors are there for a reason. If you injure yourself trying to jump into the jeep, we will not be held liable."
"Mr. Wukong." He makes a face. "You can just call me Sun, y'know. I don't think I'm much of a mister-anything."
"Noted," Weiss says.
"And you can just call me Ilia," Ilia adds. A corner of Weiss's mouth curls with amusement.
"Then let's just do first names, shall we?" she suggests. "If that's all right with you, Miss Belladonna."
"Of course," Blake says quickly. This time, her smile is genuine, full of relief. "Miss Belladonna gives me hives. Blake is fine."
"And you may call me Weiss," she replies, turning the key in the ignition. The jeep rumbles to life, the radio beginning to croon the chorus of some old-school boy band ballad. Cheeks going pink, Weiss quickly turns the volume to 0.
"Was that Odd Aura?" Sun asks, looking as if he's about to laugh.
"I liked some of their songs, growing up," Weiss says, and to her credit, she holds her head high. "Anyway--"
"I saw them in concert once," Ilia pipes up, sounding interested. "When I was twelve."
"It's about the nostalgia," Weiss says, glaring in the rearview mirror.
"Don't listen to them," Blake says, sighing. There's a few copies of a Jurassic Park brochure on the dashboard, and she picks it up. "Sun, especially. You should hear what he listens to in the shower. And how badly he sings along with it."
"Hey!" Sun gasps, but Ilia lets out a snort.
"All I'm saying is that you have no place in judging people for their music," Blake adds, poring over the brochure. On one side is a map of the island, accompanied by a colorful key of the various landmarks. A portion of it is fairly run-of-the-mill: the amusement park, the resorts, the research facilities, the offices. But the majority of the island is divided into large, general areas: Jurassic, Cretaceous, The Aviary, and, the most intriguing, Apex Predators, which is surrounded by a big, cartoonish electric fence.
She flips the brochure over, and finds a smaller, less interesting map of the amusement park. She doesn't even spare it a second glance, and flips back to the page with the big map.
"I have one for all of you," Weiss says, pulling away from the docks and onto a paved, well-manicured road. She reaches over to grab the other two from the dashboard, handing it to the backseat without looking back. "We also put together some welcome bags that you'll find in your hotel rooms. We've put you in rooms at the Relics of Creation Resort-- it's the only hotel that's staffed right now for visitors, but considering it's one of our luxury hotels, I think you'll find the accommodations quite agreeable."
Weiss smiles a little as she says this, like she's bestowing some sort of prize upon them, and for some reason, Blake feels a vague flash of irritation, her cautious friendliness evaporating.
"Considering all the money put into this place, I'd hope we wouldn't be staying at some budget-brand motel," she remarks, her bitchy words only carefully softened. Weiss raises an eyebrow, but her eyes don't leave the road.
"None of these hotels would be considered what you'd call budget-brand," she replies, lifting a hand off the steering wheel in order to give the word air quotes. "But there are some that are more basic than others, geared more toward people with a smaller price-range. Relics of Creation Resort, however, is not one of those." A pause. "The few visitors allowed on the island right now, such as yourselves, have been afforded a few perks. Four Kingdom Explorer, with its strong emphasis on science and history, has been one of our staunchest supporters from the very beginning, and the collaborations your group has done with us have been invaluable. It would be remiss of us to not offer you the very best hospitality we can provide."
Mentioning the name of Blake's publication and accompanying organization is enough to shut her up. Whatever her own hangups may be about this place, she can't let herself forget that she's working on behalf of a group greater than herself-- one that could easily tear her down if she's anything less than impartial.
"We're grateful for it," Ilia says quickly, and Blake doesn't need to turn to look at her to feel the weight of her glare. "Really."
This seems to mollify Weiss, who shifts comfortably in her seat. Blake looks out the window, staring at the perfectly-landscaped shrubs and bushes and flowers, and the cute little paths and roads that go off in different directions. As if to remind the future tourists where they are, the roads are all named things like Triceratops Way and Stegosaurus Street, with sculptures of dinosaurs placed strategically throughout. It's cheesy, and feels a little too Disney-esque to be taken seriously, but on this, Blake makes no comment, instead choosing to scribble a few well-worded criticisms in her scroll.
As they drive, Weiss launches into the role of tour guide, pointing out various landmarks and occasionally stopping to explain the history of certain spots. It feels scripted to Blake, but she takes notes anyway. At least Sun seems to be enjoying himself, asking eager questions-- some of them are even good, and Blake smiles a little as she writes them down. As intuitive as Blake is, Sun has the natural curiosity about Jurassic Park that Blake doesn't, and it leads him to ask more natural questions. It's just one of the reasons she keeps him around; that, and that he's a good friend, too. She's lucky, she supposes, that even after their short-lived attempt at a relationship, he's still willing to be that to her. God knows she has few enough friends as it is.
They pass a couple of hotels (none of which are theirs, according to Weiss) and the amusement park, where they stop outside the gate for a quick peek. Though it's closed for now, Weiss assures them that later in the week, there will be a day when all of them, and a few other select visitors, will have a chance to go.
"Now that's a roller coaster!" Sun says appreciatively, pointing at a green monstrosity that's visible from the gate.
Blake shrugs. It seems just like an average roller coaster to her, but she knows that none of the rides here have to be too fancy. After all, it's not the rides that make Jurassic Park special. It's not the rides that lure in the wealthy, the families, the retirees, and the reporters from Four Kingdom Explorer.
With a place that has dinosaurs, theme park rides are clearly an afterthought.
"Will all the rides be open?" Ilia asks curiously.
"It's considered a preview day, for donors and important visitors like yourselves," Weiss explains, starting the jeep back up. "The theme park will be open, as will the Relics of Creation Resort. We'll also have the jungle tours of the dinosaur enclosures, as well as demonstrations with the carnivores. All of these things are what guests can expect on their visit to Isla Nublar in the near future-- though the crowds will be much bigger then, of course."
"Of course," Blake echoes.
"We don't officially launch for another month, but we'll have a few other preview days leading up to launch," Weiss goes on. "But the closer we get to opening, the more chaotic the place will get. We'll have more hotels and resorts open, more restaurants-- and it's my job to ensure it all goes smoothly."
"It sounds like a nightmare," Ilia says with a grimace. Weiss shrugs, though Blake can sense a touch of pride.
"Nothing I haven't been able to handle."
And that, Blake thinks with satisfaction, is a lie. It's almost a relief to hear one from Weiss, after the pretty picture of the island that she's painted for them, luring them into a false sense of security. It means Weiss isn't beyond reproach; she's not as perfect as she makes herself seem. She isn't infallible. And this is something even Sun will see, and Ilia: that Weiss Schnee is a fucking liar.
Because Isla Nublar has had problems. Problems that are blatant, staring them all in the face.
Because Isla Nublar, and Jurassic Park, have killed people.
Blake's followed the news since before Jurassic Park even existed, when dinosaurs were still only a rumor in the scientific underground. She remembers when Clockwork Genetics went public with the news that they were able to reconstruct the DNA of creatures long since extinct. And then, news of the first egg.
Then, of the first dinosaur.
But as the number of dinosaurs began to rise, so did the number of accidents. The first fatality by dinosaur had been headline news: a young man, working with an allosaurus, had been attacked and eaten. There was massive outrage then, and calls for all of the dinosaurs to be put down. Hundreds of people took to the street, calling for an end to cloning. There was no room on Remnant for dinosaurs anymore.
Not that it stopped the scientists of Clockwork Genetics. They continued on with their supposed research, creating more dinosaurs. To them, it was like every accident-- every innocent person caught in the crossfire of dinosaur teeth, every person crushed to death by giant dinosaur feet, or gored by dinosaur horns-- was a necessary sacrifice in the name of science. And to what end? What was the point of all of it?
Blake had hoped that this trip would give her at least some answers, but listening to the lie slip from Weiss's tongue, she knew she was right to doubt.
The jeep rumbles to a stop in front of a massive, iron gate. On its front, Jurassic Park is written in large letters over the park's logo. Weiss turns to look at all of them each in turn, expression severe.
"We're going to enter the Jurassic Zone of the park," she explains. "This isn't one of our armored tour vehicles, so I'm going to ask you to exercise some common sense: do not, under any circumstances, exit this vehicle until I tell you otherwise. Understood?"
"Yeah," Ilia says, though her eyes narrow. "Should we be afraid, or something?"
"No," Weiss replies. One corner of her mouth twitches in a slight smile. "Not at all. In fact, tomorrow, you can all come back here for photographs. But you need to sign waivers before I can let you do so, which you can look over when we get to the observation lab."
"Waivers?" Blake asks, hoping her voice doesn't betray her sudden anxiety.
"Just a precaution," Weiss says, waving a hand airily. "There's nothing out here that will hurt you-- unless you're provoking the dinosaurs, that is. Nearly everything in this zone is an herbivore, minus a few smaller, non-threatening carnivores. Still, I can't have anyone wandering off. At the very least, it would be a mountain of paperwork for me."
At this, Sun laughs. Blake doesn't. Had Weiss complained about paperwork when one of the employees was eaten by a raptor a few months ago? What about the one eaten by the allosaurus? Had she complained about paperwork when one of the dinosaurs had bitten an arm off one of their handlers? Or a leg? Had she complained about paperwork then?
Weiss scans a badge outside of the gate, and slowly, they slide open just wide enough for a vehicle to pass through. As they make their way slowly past, to a second gate, Blake tightens her grip on the overhead handle. She knows, logically, that none of the dinosaurs are going to charge at them-- Weiss drives with the familiarity of someone who drives this route often, and comfortably. Still, on the other side of that gate are the very creatures Blake has spent countless hours researching, and reading article after article about how they've killed and maimed people. And now, for the first time, they're going to be on the same side of the fence.
The gate behind them closes, and the one in front of them opens.
On either side of the road, it's all jungle, thick and lush, and the air suddenly feels thicker and hotter. Despite herself, Blake looks all around, half-expecting a rogue dinosaur to come crashing out of the trees.
"Most of them are deeper in," Weiss tells them, driving along the dirt road. "Especially the giants. They're not very comfortable near the gate."
"The giants!" Sun marvels, half-standing in his seat as he cranes for a look. Weiss glares at him in the rearview mirror.
"Sit down!"
"By giants, are you talking about sauropods?" Ilia asks eagerly.
"Yes," Weiss says. "Apatosaurus, Diplodocus, and Brachiosaurus are the big ones here, but we do have smaller ones, as well."
"That's a lot of big ones, for such a small area," Blake comments. "And it isn't overcrowded?"
"Not at all. The island is bigger than people give it credit for. Plus, we control the population; we ensure it stays consistent."
Blake nods, and looks at her brochure again. Though the island looks small on the map, she supposes that's just the illusion of the brochure. She looks at the entrance gate on the map, trying to mentally gauge just how big the island is.
Next to her, she sees Weiss glance down at the open brochure.
"We'll be going to the APR Building," she says, nodding at the map. Blake looks closer, and sees a small, rectangular space labeled APR Building. It isn't far from the gate, but curves to the left, down a service road toward…
"Whoa. That's right in the Apex Predator zone!" Sun announces, tail thumping excitedly against the side of the jeep.
"That's what APR stands for," Weiss says. "Apex Predator Research."
"So are we gonna see the t-rexes today?" he asks. Weiss shrugs.
"We'll see."
"So we're not sticking around in the Jurassic Zone?" Ilia says, and Blake is surprised to hear that Ilia sounds disappointed. She didn't think Ilia was looking forward to much on the island; they'd been pretty much in agreement about their feelings regarding Clockwork Genetics. Had she really been so interested in seeing the dinosaurs?
"We'll have more time to see it tomorrow," Weiss says. Then, she pauses, and smiles. "But… there is one place I could show you."
Rather than turning left, Weiss keeps going straight. Blake says nothing as they keep driving, choosing instead to look down at her scroll. The further into the jungle they go, the weaker her reception becomes; of course it would be better near the hotels and the theme park, where people are more likely to use their phones. Out here, there are better things to be looking at.
Besides, she thinks grimly, dinosaurs probably don't care for CCT towers.
So she has no choice but to slip it back into her pocket and lean against the jeep's frame, the muggy air overpowering her, almost making her give into her fatigue and let the jungle pass her by. She shakes her head hard, and forces herself to stay alert.
They don't drive for too long, maybe ten minutes through the wild, meandering roads of the jungle. At least they're smooth; the park had clearly gone out of its way to make it comfortable for the tourists, without any bumps and potholes. Just giant trees, thick vines, and the air of mystery so thick that it felt manufactured.
Finally, Weiss turns right, down another long dirt road. To Blake's surprise, the further they go, the more the trees begin to thin out. Curiously, she turns to look out the side of the jeep, studying the scenery around her as it changes. And then, the trees finally clear, and her eyes go wide.
They're on a cliffside ledge, overlooking a valley. Most of it is jungle, dense with trees as it climbs up the mountains on the other side. Directly beneath them, however, is a valley. And in the valley…
"Holy shit!" Sun says, standing in his seat and craning his neck. "What's that?"
Blake can't remember having ever seen something so large in her whole life. Hell, even the elephants and giraffes she'd seen before are nothing compared to what lies in the valley below.
The dinosaurs are hulking, thick creatures, with long necks that are nearly as tall as the canopy. They move in a herd, stepping with an odd, oversized grace through the clearing. One turns its bean-like head back toward the others, and lets out a long bellow. The sound makes Blake, Ilia, and Sun gasp.
And… the dinosaurs are majestic. As much as Blake hates to admit it, they do possess a kind of beauty, and they do inspire wonder. She sits in her seat, stunned, as she watches them plod across the clearing with no cares about their controversy, or the abomination of their very existence. They are the kings of their domain; they don't care about anything beyond it.
"The Brachiosaurus herd likes this valley," Weiss tells them. "It's got a little bit of everything they like here, so whenever we bring visitors to the APR building, this is an easy spot to show them some of the giants."
"I… see," Blake says haltingly, not wanting to come across as an overenthusiastic tourist. She can keep it cool. "They're… very big."
"They're huge!" Sun corrects.
"I can't get any good pictures from here," Ilia says regretfully, but Weiss's blue eyes flicker up toward the rearview mirror to look at her.
"I can assure you, you'll get plenty of pictures over the next few days," she says reassuringly. "Once you sign your releases and you can actually get out of the vehicle, we'll take you up close to them for the perfect shots."
"Yeah," Ilia replies, though she still sounds a little put out. She never likes being denied a good picture. "God, it's like they're begging to be photographed."
"Photograph me like one of your French dinosaurs!" Sun says dramatically, flopping over into Ilia's lap. She shoves him off with a disgusted groan.
"Why do you always have to make it so weird?"
"Because it's my job, obviously."
Weiss starts up the jeep again, and Blake finds herself ignoring the banter as they drive away. She's too busy looking back over her shoulder, at the Brachiosaurus that disappear behind her. They're beautiful, she can admit. But she'll resist the allure.
--
It doesn't take them long to get to the APR building. Another set of heavy iron gates, and another electrified security fence.
DANGER, 10,000 VOLTS, it reads ominously, and Blake resists the urge to shudder, because this is the area that would need the high voltage.
The last thing the island needs is a Tyrannosaurus Rex on the loose.
Unlike the Jurassic Zone, the Apex Predator Zone is structured differently. On the map, Blake sees the several smaller enclosures, labeled Paddock 1, Paddock 2, Paddock 3, and Paddock 4, staggered into the jungle. She sees a tourist road along the outside of the paddocks, making a big loop around them, presumably to showcase the predators held within.
But this isn't where Weiss drives them. She takes them along one of the service roads, to the main entrance of the APR building, nestled between Paddocks 3 and 4. She swipes her badge, taking them in through another gate, where she finally parks the jeep.
"Welcome to the Apex Predator Research Facility," Weiss says, unbuckling her seatbelt. "We have two layers of electric fence between us and any herbivores, and an extra for the carnivores, so you're safe to leave the car."
"You can't call a jeep a car," Sun says, horrified, though he's the first one to unbuckle his seatbelt and leap out the door.
"Why not? It's a car."
"It's not a-- ugh." He covers his eyes with his hand. "You know what? Never mind."
Ilia snorts, hopping out and sidling up to Blake, who's looking up critically at the APR building. "So, what do you think?" she asks in a low voice.
"That Sun has a point," Blake replies.
"I mean about this place."
"Oh." Blake shrugs. "Well, I haven't seen anything to change my mind about it yet. So far, it feels like we've dragged these animals back from the dead in order to turn them into a tourist trap."
"Yeah," Ilia says, sucking air between her teeth. "Seems like it so far."
"But?" Blake asks, sensing a but.
"But I think we should… maybe go a little easier on them," Ilia says, shrugging. "The people here, I mean."
"You? Telling me I should go easy on a Schnee?" Blake asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, maybe not her." Ilia snorts. "But I've heard the two lead scientists actually give a shit about the dinosaurs. By all accounts, Dr. Rose and Dr. Polendina seem to love them."
"If they loved them," Blake replies, tone going hard, "then maybe they should've left them in the ground where they belong."
Ilia raises her hands in surrender, then turns to follow Sun, who's chattering Weiss's ear off at the front door. Blake sighs, then follows.
Weiss swipes her badge at the APR building entrance, and a beep lets them know the door unlocks. Blake barely has time to study her reflection in the glass windows on the door-- just long enough to see that the jungle humidity is already wreaking havoc on her short black hair, making it frizz slightly. She'd tried to dress to impress that morning, wearing a dark pantsuit that, in any other climate, would make her look professional. But clearly, that outfit choice was a mistake; she wishes she could pull her jacket off, and just wear the white tank top underneath, but that would be too casual. So she sighs, and tries to quickly comb her fingers through her hair as they walk. At least the building seems to be blessedly air-conditioned.
"We have research facilities in every zone," Weiss explains, walking them down long, sterile-white hallways that remind Blake of hospital halls. "Mostly made up of scientists observing their subjects. But we have more interesting things going on here, so a lot of times, Ruby-- Dr. Rose, I mean-- and Dr. Polendina will spend their lunches here instead of back at the lab."
"Interesting things?" Blake asks, ears perking up when they stop in front of a door labeled Observation Deck - Paddock 4.
"We've been studying the cognitive levels of--" Weiss begins, but the door swings open.
"So these are the people from the Explorer!" a woman says excitedly, stepping through the door. She's dressed casually in a red hoodie, though the white lab jacket thrown haphazardly over it gives some clue as to what she's doing here. Under the fluorescents, her silver eyes glitter. "I've been so excited to meet you!"
"This is Ruby," Weiss says with a fond eyeroll. "Well, Dr. Rose."
"Ruby's fine!" Dr. Rose (Ruby) says with a grin. "I feel like my doctorate doesn't fit me yet. I need some gray hair before I can call myself doctor."
Before Blake can catch herself, she's smiling. "So you're the famous Dr. Rose. You do look a little young to be a doctor."
"I may have skipped a grade," Ruby says, laughing nervously, scratching her messy dark hair. "Or several."
"Well, I'm honored to meet you," Blake says humbly, extending a hand, which Ruby shakes. Even though she's disgusted in the aims of Clockwork Genetics, she isn't lying when she says she's honored to meet her; Ruby is highly accomplished for such a young age, and is probably one of the smartest people in the world. This is a woman that the world will have its eyes on, and being able to interview her is a privilege. "I'm Blake Belladonna, and this is Sun, and Ilia."
"Wonderful to meet you!" Ruby says cheerfully, shaking everyone's hands with enthusiasm. "I've been so excited for you to get here! I've been subscribed to the Four Kingdom Explorer since I was a kid-- I think that's probably what got me into dinosaurs, actually." She laughs. "So when I heard you guys were coming to do a story on us, I couldn't really believe it. I mean, I know the dinosaurs are a big deal and everything, but still." She offers Blake a sheepish smile. "It always seemed like a dream to be featured in it."
"Really?" Blake asks, surprised. It's easy to forget sometimes how influential their publication is. Even she had been awestruck when she'd been asked to write for it, all those years ago.
"Yeah! And I know Penny will be excited to meet you, too." Ruby juts a thumb behind her, then waves her hand, beckoning them all to follow. "But we can talk more in there. I'm being an awful host. I wasn't even there to meet you at the ferry!"
"You've been busy," Weiss reminds her, one white eyebrow rising. "Besides, I'm the island coordinator. You've had other things to do."
"Well, yeah," Ruby says as she walks them into a large room, humming with the activity of computers and television screens. "But this is the Explorer! It's not just the dry, boring scientific journals we're going to be in anymore. And even the tabloids only care about the pictures. This is the first time we can be, like… relatable. And have people actually understand what we're doing!"
"People are definitely going to like our perspective," Sun says, nudging Blake with his elbow. "Blake sure knows how to write an article."
"I know. I've read every article she's ever written for the Explorer, and some of the things she wrote before it," Ruby says.
"Every article?" Blake asks, cheeks going pink.
"Yeah! I wanted to see your style. Hey, Penny, they're here!"
Seated at one of the computers, a woman with red hair looks up. She looks to be around the same age as Ruby, though she has a sort of ageless energy about her that makes it hard to tell. There's a smattering of freckles on her face, and two perfect dimples that pebble her cheeks as soon as she smiles.
"Salutations!" she calls to them, hopping up from her seat. "We have been so excited to meet you all!"
"Dr. Polendina?" Blake asks uncertainly. The woman beams.
"It's a mouthful, isn't it?" she says with a giggle. "You may call me Penny, if you like. You must be Blake Belladonna! I have read every single one of your articles!"
"Every… article?" Blake shoots a helpless glance at Ilia. "You mean the Explorer ones, right?"
"Every article since The Monthly Roar," Penny corrects. Blake can feel her cheeks grow hotter.
"That… was my school newspaper," she says slowly. Penny laughs, and Ruby grins.
"She's thorough," Ruby says fondly.
"It's remarkable how much your writing has grown since then," Penny adds, sounding pleased.
"I--" Blake begins, but the sound of Weiss clearing her throat stops her, and Blake's never been so grateful for an interruption in her whole life.
"Maybe later?" she says, eyes flickering toward the giant window. "I think we've only got a few minutes before--"
"One minute and fourteen seconds, actually," a voice calls from a different desk, where another woman sits and stares at her computer monitor. Weiss nods, and both Penny and Ruby brighten.
"Perfect timing!" Penny says cheerfully.
"Thank you, Ciel," Weiss says, then inclines her head toward the window. "Come over. You'll all want to see this."
"What is it?" Ilia asks, sounding wary as they all make their way to the giant observation window.
"Until recently, this was classified information," Weiss explains, folding her arms. "In fact, you're the only media outlet that will know about this, and have the exclusive privilege to write about it."
"This doesn't sound good," Blake mutters into Sun's ear. He shrugs.
"It's nothing major," Ruby tells them, rolling her eyes. "It's a footnote for the article, at best."
"It's huge," Weiss argues. "This project is going to kickstart so many studies, and lead to so many possibilities, and--"
Through the windows, one of the bushes rustles. Blake, Sun, and Ilia freeze, but Weiss only leans forward eagerly. Ruby rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet.
"I know this looks like normal glass," she said, in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring tone, "but it's thick. Unbreakable. It's the same kind of glass they use on the International Space Station. Plus, it's only one-way. They can't see us on the other side, it looks just like a concrete wall."
"Who can't see us?" Blake asks, slightly alarmed at Ruby's words, which probably had the opposite effect of what she was going for. Even Sun, the daredevil that he is, looks a little concerned, and Ilia takes a step back.
But Ruby shakes her head, and points up.
Blake squints, and sees what she hadn't noticed before: a narrow catwalk over the top of the clearing, with a single figure standing on it. She's hard to make out against the sun, but the woman has a hand lifted up, holding something.
"Seven seconds," Ciel says.
"Shit, can someone turn the audio on?" Weiss asks the room irritably. "I can't hear what she's saying."
One of the people in the room scrambles into action, at the same time Ciel says, "Now!"
A moment later, something bursts from the bushes.
Blake nearly jumps as a piglet darts into the clearing, running as fast as its short legs can take it (which is, surprisingly, pretty fast), making a beeline to the left of the observation window. Audio abruptly cuts in, and Blake hears its terrified squeals as it runs.
And then, the heavy pounding of many feet.
Blake had always considered herself a brave woman. She's faced down wildcats, and shared rivers with crocodiles and alligators, and swam with sharks. She's climbed mountains, she's scuba dived, she's skydived. She had faced the ends of the earth, the tallest mountains, the most barren deserts. She had faced the devil himself when he'd tried over and over again to break her, and had still shaken herself free.
But what she sees through that window still made her blood run cold.
A Velociraptor breaks free from the underbrush, focused on the hunt. It's bigger than Blake had expected one to be-- shorter than her, but it's all lean muscle, with legs that are clearly built for speed, and a thick tail that keeps the creature in perfect balance with the world around it. But more than that are the teeth-- so many of them-- and the claws, ones that could easily rend flesh to shreds, each one nearly as big as her entire hand.
She stares, feeling a sinking in her stomach for the piglet. But then--
"Whoa."
The raptor comes to a halt. It's soon joined by another raptor, and another, until five stand in a loose pack, the talons on their feet clicking ominously on the ground, and strange, high-pitched growls and clicks coming from their throats. Rather than go after the piglet, they look for the sound of the voice.
All five velociraptors look up at the bridge overhead, growling.
Blake hears a different clicking sound, and she squints up at the woman on the bridge. She stands unmoving, one hand held out in a stop signal toward the velociraptors. Blake tilts her head, and can barely make out the woman's features: a ponytail, sunglasses, something metal glinting on her extended arm.
"Whoa," the woman says again, almost encouragingly. There's another clicking sound, and the raptors seem captivated. "Good girls. Focus."
Still holding her clicker, the woman pulls off her sunglasses and folds them onto her collar. She changes her outstretched hand from a stop signal to just two fingers, pointing them back at her own eyes.
"Focus," the woman says again, and when Blake looks at the raptors, she sees that they're looking. They're actually looking at her, meeting her in the eyes with what feels like eerie intelligence.
Then, one of the raptors looks away, toward a different part of the catwalk. It bares its teeth in a snarl.
"Whoa!" the woman says sharply, snapping her clicker again. "Delta, focus. Eyes up here. Focus."
The raptor in question snaps its attention back to the woman, though it lets loose a hiss, as if to say it isn't cowed. One of the other raptors snaps at it, and the first one snaps back.
"Whoa," the woman says loudly. "Cut the shit, guys. Focus. I know you know how."
And then they're all looking back up at her again, waiting.
"Good girls," the woman says, her voice low, and Blake finds that she's staring up at her, too, as mesmerized as the raptors. "Now… let's go."
The woman walks along the catwalk, raising her fist to eye level. Miraculously, as she walks along the bridge, nearly out of sight of the window, the raptors follow her, eyes never leaving her as she walks. They move almost in a perfect arrow formation, following the sound of her clicker, constantly waiting for the woman's command.
On their own safe side of the window, all six of the observers sidle along the edge, in order to get a better view of the woman. With the sun no longer obscuring her face, Blake is surprised to see how young she is: she has to be around Blake's age, with long blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail. She's dressed in an outfit similar to Weiss's, but it looks so much more natural-- and better-- on her, with the rugged button-down shirt and a well-worn black vest, a light coating of dust on all of it. She's got her sleeves rolled up, which makes it easy to see why her arm had been glinting in the sun: one of her arms is a prosthetic, of gleaming yellow metal.
And Blake finally understands who this is.
"Good girls," the woman says approvingly, reaching into a bucket that's been set nearby. "Here, Bravo." She tosses something-- probably a hunk of meat-- down to one of the raptors, who catches it easily and swallows it whole. "Charlie, for you." Another hunk of meat, another easy catch for one of the raptors. "Delta. Echo." She tosses more meat in turn, to the patiently waiting raptors, who snatch it up in the blink of an eye. "And Whiskey, for you."
The last raptor catches it, eyes never leaving the woman. Neither does the woman look away from the raptors.
"Focus," the woman repeats, holding her fist higher. "Up."
The raptors rise on their haunches, ready to spring. And then…
"Go!" the woman says, pushing down with her hand. At this, the raptors tear off into the bushes, disappearing from view once more.
Blake's still so caught up in the moment, staring at the woman, that she nearly jumps when Ruby lets out a loud whoop.
"Did you see that?!" she crows. "God, they love her!"
"Maybe love is too strong a term," Weiss says, though her eyes gleam with excitement. "But they obey. She's incredible with them."
"Like I've been telling you!" Ruby tells her, grinning.
"You really have been missing out by not watching her daily sessions," Penny adds, giving Weiss a patient look.
"That's insane!" Sun interrupts loudly, gesturing wildly at the window, his tail twitching spasmodically with delight. "You're training raptors here?!"
Something about it still unsettles Blake. She stares out the window, looking up at the figure of the woman. She'd walked around to the far side of the catwalk, talking to two other people that Blake hadn't even noticed were there. The man is tall and imposing, his graying black hair cut short. The other is a woman, standing at attention with her arms clasped behind her, with white hair that looks too close to Weiss's to be coincidence. Blake frowns as the blonde woman folds her arms in front of her, looking irritated.
"It's an experimental project," Weiss explains. "Velociraptors are among the most intelligent dinosaurs that ever existed, and our goal was to study their cognition. We want to see what they can do, how they learn… and what else they might be capable of."
"So you're training them like dogs," Blake says stonily, finally snapping her eyes away from the window in order to look at Weiss, Ruby, and Penny.
"Not like dogs," Ruby says. "Like raptors."
"There are so many avenues for research this can open up," Weiss adds, frowning slightly at Blake. "And who knows? Maybe, in the future, these studies-- and maybe even the raptors themselves-- can teach us a thing or two about humanity. I mean, look at General Ironwood. He sees a lot of potential in this research. He thinks it could even change the world."
So that's who that is. Blake follows Weiss's pointed finger, up to where the raptor trainer is talking with the tall man-- General Ironwood, it would seem. The raptor trainer is scowling openly now at him, and makes a broad sweep of her metal hand in the direction of the jungle below, and shakes her head at him.
"She doesn't look happy with him, does she?" Ilia points out in a low voice.
"She doesn't always see eye to eye with the General," Penny says. "But he--"
She's interrupted with a loud gasp, and claps a hand to her mouth. All at once, the rest of their eyes swivel to where Penny is pointing, and it's like time stops for a moment.
One of the raptors charges out of the bushes, and only belatedly does Blake realize the target. A young man, younger than her, had been walking around the catwalk with a long pole, hurriedly trying to herd a pig toward a small door in the fence. He'd blended into the scenery as easily as any janitor, and Blake hadn't even given him a second thought.
That is, until now.
In fact, he's the only thing they're looking at now, as the raptor bites into the pole and gives it a shake. Caught off-guard, the man-- no more than a kid, really-- is thrown off his feet, and with a yelp, he's hurtled over the edge of the catwalk, and directly into the enclosure, where the raptor waits. He lands on his back with a slam.
"Oscar!" Ruby screams, running to the window and smacking it with her hand.
"No no no," Weiss breathes, looking from the window to the television monitors.
Blake is frozen in horror, helpless to do nothing but stare as the poor kid struggles to his feet. One raptor has turned to five, and they approach him, the pole and pig forgotten as they study the quivering human in front of them, a couple of them letting out shrill cries like warning shots. Ilia's clutching her cheeks, nails digging in as her skin turns white with fear, and Sun, for once, doesn't have a fucking thing to say.
They're going to watch a kid die today, Blake thinks distantly. He's going to die, right in front of them, and nobody can do a damn thing.
"Open the inner gate!" someone yells. As if awoken from a trance, Blake finally looks up at the speaker: the blonde woman, who's throwing a leg over the rail of the catwalk. "Open the fucking gate!"
Penny seems to be the only person who understands the order. She darts back to her desk, her green eyes wide as she taps at the computer. "Opening!" she says, finger pressed against a hidden earpiece.
There's a loud screech of metal as an unseen gate opens, but the sound is only an afterthought as the raptor trainer launches herself off the catwalk, landing with a thud in front of the boy.
In front of the Velociraptors.
"Yang, get out of there!" Weiss screams, a finger at her own earpiece.
The woman-- Yang, Blake knew this had to be her-- rises to her feet, her metal arm outstretched toward the raptors. Her eyes are trained on the one in front of her, and she doesn't flinch.
All Blake can do is stare.
"Ironwood, put that fucking gun down," Yang says softly, voice barely above a murmur, eyes never leaving the raptors. "Shoot them now and they're never trusting humans again. Girls, focus."
One of the raptors snaps its jaws at her, and Yang backs up a step.
"Whoa," she says, a harsh edge to her command. Then, still without looking behind her, "Oscar, gate. Now."
The boy scrambles back, out of sight of the windows. Yang stays where she is, giving him time to get further behind her, keeping her arms wide and outstretched.
"Back up," she instructs the raptors, looking from one, then to another. One of them lets out a rattling growl, stepping closer. "Whoa. Back up, Charlie. Back the fuck up."
But it doesn't seem to be enough to keep them back; another one lunges forward. Yang whips her head around, ponytail swinging, glaring at it.
"I said whoa. Back up. Back up."
As she speaks, she takes another careful step back. Blake feels like she's going to be sick, but she can't bring herself to look away. Though Yang's not looking toward the window, there's a television monitor in her periphery that lets them see her face, and she can feel the fire in Yang's eyes. It feels like the only thing keeping her upright.
"Easy, girls, easy," Yang says soothingly, her boots patting softly on the loamy ground. "Now just-- hey!"
Another one of the raptors decides to lunge, and this time, it isn't a warning. It's teeth snap shut, but Yang must have seen it coming-- god, how did she know it was coming?-- because she spins at the last second, the jaws of the raptor slamming shut around the metal of Yang's arm.
Ruby lets out a low moan of fear and relief as Yang pushes back into the raptor, her own teeth bared as she pushes against the creature whose teeth dig straight into her prosthetic.
"Back the fuck up, Whiskey!" she snarls, not giving way to the force of this predator. Blake's slightly dizzy with the adrenaline of simply watching all of this play out before her, surprised by the own surge of heat in her stomach that no longer feels like nausea.
The raptor, Whiskey, growls, still not unleashing Yang's arm, though it's clear Whiskey is the one losing ground.
"Ironwood!" Yang growls, her voice somehow carrying despite her gritted teeth. "Does this answer your fucking question?"
With that, Yang pushes forward, sending Whiskey staggering backward, and the raptor's teeth finally unlock from the metal. There are deep gouges in Yang's prosthetic when she raises it again, gesturing halt only inches away from Whiskey's maw.
"Whiskey," Yang says, staring the raptor down. Whiskey lets out a trill-like growl. Yang bares her teeth again at it. "Back up."
Finally (finally finally finally), Whiskey relents. The raptor lowers its wedge-like head, letting out a snuffling kind of snort. The other raptors, following her lead, lower their own heads.
"Focus," Yang says, and again, those narrow-slitted pupils land on Yang, staring her down.
Blake feels out her own skin, at the mercy of that command just as much as the raptors are.
"Up," Yang says, raising both of her arms. The raptors look up at her hands, waiting.
Ready to be commanded.
"Go!"
Yang makes a large, clear gesture, directing them backward, back into the depths of their enclosure.
And incredibly, remarkably, miraculously-- all five of them go.
Yang lets out a huge, audible sigh of relief, but doesn't linger; of course she knows better than to do that. Instead, she turns on her booted heel, to the left of the window and out of sight toward the unseen gate.
But it's only when the gate groans its closure that the whole room lets out a heavy, collective sigh.
"Holy shit," Ruby squeaks, dropping to her knees. "That was too close."
"Oscar knows the protocol," Weiss mutters, quickly masking her relief with irritability. "God, and right in front of Ironwood. This is going to be a headache of an incident report."
"Weiss, Oscar could have died!" Ruby says, whirling on her incredulously. "Yang could have died! And you're worried about incident reports?"
"They're fine!" Weiss snaps. Then, a pause, and Blake sees the flash of guilt on her face before it's wiped clean. "We can't afford to think about what ifs, Ruby. Or else we'll never make progress. We have to focus on the here and now. Just like we've always done."
"Right," Ruby says faintly.
Blake still doesn't feel like she can even breathe, but she forces herself to look away from the window. She's had enough of dinosaurs for one day. She, too, needs to regroup and refocus on the here and now.
"I literally thought someone was gonna get eaten," Sun says, his voice a croak. "Literally."
"Yeah, well, it seemed close," Ilia says, backing up until there's a chair behind her. She flops into it. "Holy shit. I'm so glad they're okay."
"Yeah," Blake says faintly. She looks around the room-- at anywhere but the window-- and, to her surprise, the other employees there seem to be moving on, resuming their work as if nothing had even happened. There's something wrong about that, she thinks. There's something wrong with people being able to move on so easily, that this sort of thing happens enough that they're desensitized to the thought of their colleagues nearly dying. Is this just another Tuesday for them?
"I'll archive the footage of the incident," Penny pipes up from her computer, eyes glued to the screen as she types. "We can reference it in the report, if that helps."
"Yes," Weiss says with a curt nod. "We'll need written reports from both Yang and Oscar, as well. And--"
The door to the observation lab swings open, cutting her off as it slams into the wall. Weiss looks up, looking deeply annoyed as someone steps inside, the thud of her boots echoing across the room.
Looking like she's just stepped out of hell, Yang enters with a scowl, casually tugging her hair free out of the confines of its ponytail.
"I swear to god," she says to Weiss, "if you make me write a report, I will shove it up Ironwood's ass personally. Christ, he needs to get it through his thick metal skull that he--"
"Yang!" Ruby shrieks, practically launching herself into the air towards her. She throws her arms around her, squeezing her tight. "You're okay!"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Yang says, patiently patting Ruby on the back. "I'm probably going to need to send my arm out for repair, though."
"Let me see," Ruby says, stepping back and seizing it to give it an appraisal. She shudders. "Yeah, that's bad. Thank god it was just the metal one, or else you woulda lost an arm all over again. You've still got your old one you can use until this one is fixed, right?"
"Yeah. And I bet Ironwood will pay for it," Yang says with a snort. "Since now that he's seen what those raptors can do, he--"
She stops, finally looking over Ruby's shoulder. Stormy lilac eyes fall on Blake, Ilia, and Sun, and she blinks once, like she's surprised at the presence of new faces in the lab.
"Shit, they're with the Explorer, aren't they?"
"I did send out a reminder email this morning," Weiss says irritably.
"You know I never check my email," Yang says with a shrug. Though she looks between all three of the Explorer crew, those eyes seem to linger a moment longer on Blake. "Well, at least we treated them to a show today, huh?"
The corner of her lips curl upwards, and to Blake, it doesn't look like the humorous smile she's probably intending. It looks… predatory.
"That's one way to put it," Blake says, not backing down from it. At this, Yang chuckles.
"You must be Blake," she says, stepping around Ruby. She extends her hand towards Blake-- the metal one, and up close, Blake sees the deep row of punctures in the metal, and is startled to see that some of the yellow plating is rough and jagged; somehow, the dinosaur had ripped some of it off during the attack. Those teeth had been strong enough to rip through metal.
Blake forces herself to look away from the gouged metal, and back up at Yang. She nods, and finally grips her hand.
"Yang Xiao Long," Yang says, shaking it. "Raptors."