by Tess Sharpe
It leaps at me—or at least, for a second, I think the Raptor is leaping at me. I shriek, Justin lets out a startled yell, and the twins behind me shout. Justin and I both stumble backward at the same time, knocking hard into each other, and the moment my Run, run, oh my God, why aren’t you running? instinct kicks in, I finally register that the figure in front of me is see-through.
A hologram.
I burst out laughing, and one by one, as they realize, my friends follow, until all of us are cracking up. I’m hanging on to Justin, weak in the knees, and he’s hanging on to me just as tight, and we’re sobbing with laughter as the hologram Raptor tilts her head at us.
The twins have the same laugh—this funny belly laugh that reaches the high ceilings of the center’s lobby—and Justin’s laugh is deep, like his voice, like his eyes. Their voices tangle with mine in the air, and I feel it again—this sense of home, of belonging.
“I thought we were dead,” I say, wiping my eyes as I finally let go of Justin.
“My entire body was just…AHHH!” Tanya giggles. “Wow.” She walks up to the hologram, studying it with a rapt expression. “This is so cool.” She reaches out, and her hand goes through the Raptor.
“Interns!” Jessica’s now-familiar refrain breaks through our fading laughter. “We’re over here. Come along.”
Tanya walks through the Raptor hologram, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I know it’s silly, but I walk around it instead, following her as the boys bring up the rear. Jessica leads us out to an observation deck that overlooks the wilds of the island. I can see the command center from here, the sunlight winking off the windows. Tables have been set up on the deck, and there are little place cards at each plate. Assigned seating?
“Once a week, you’ll be getting face time with members of the senior staff,” Jessica explains. “Eric, you’re over there, with some of our command center staff. Tanya, you’re with the head of our botany team. Claire and Justin, you’ll be dining with Mr. Masrani today.”
I gulp, trying not to look like a deer in the headlights as I follow Justin over to the table where Mr. Masrani is waiting for us.
He gets up when he sees us. “Please, sit,” he says. “How do you like the look of the educational center?”
“Your hologram technology is awesome,” I say, and Mr. Masrani’s teeth flash in a quick smile.
“Appropriately scary?” he asks.
“Sure to trigger anyone’s fight-or-flight instinct,” I say, praying I’m not coming off as too glib.
“It’s a fine line to tread,” Mr. Masrani says. “I don’t want to terrify anyone—too much, at least.”
“Maybe a Brachiosaurus hologram instead of a Raptor?’ I suggest, trying to ignore the voice in my head that says I’m overstepping.
Luckily, he doesn’t look bothered at all. “Maybe we’ll immortalize our girl Pearl in hologram next,” he says.
“Bertie was telling me how spirited she is,” I say.
Masrani nods. “That she is.”
“Do you spend a lot of time with the dinosaurs, sir?” Justin asks.
“I’m afraid my work keeps me very busy,” Mr. Masrani says. “But since we’re less than a year from opening, I do find myself spending more and more time here. Which I don’t mind in the least.”
“Do you have any projections yet for attendance?”
“Ah, the business major starts to come out.” Mr. Masrani smiles. “This is why I chose you. Your personal essay reminded me of myself at your age.”
Justin’s ears turn bright red at such a compliment, and I have to bite the inside of my lip to not smile at how cute it is and embarrass him further.
“I’m really grateful to be here, sir,” he says.
“Projections for our first quarter are very strong,” Mr. Masrani says, signaling for a server to pour our drinks. There are little menus on each plate, with a selection of tapas and entrees to choose from. “While we plan on making small batches of tickets available starting six months before we open, I’ll also be introducing several lotteries with all-expenses-paid trips because ticket scalping will be rampant the first year especially. Everyone deserves a chance to experience this place.”
“I saw on Main Street you’ve already partnered with some big names,” Justin says. “All the comforts of home.”
“With the wonder of the unknown,” Masrani adds. “That is our goal. With what you’ve seen so far, do you think we’re accomplishing it, Claire?”
I’m taking a sip of water and I almost cough, because I wasn’t expecting him to ask me that. I set my glass down. “I think this park is one of the most incredible feats ever accomplished,” I say, because it’s the truth. “This isn’t just about one kind of science. It’s not just about advances in paleontology or animal behavior or biology or the myriad of other fields. This affects everything. It changes everything. Things discovered here could change the world.”
“And that’s what you’re interested in doing, is it not?” Mr. Masrani asks. “You want to change the world.”
“I want to help make the world better for more than just the humans,” I say. I’ve never said that out loud before, and it feels strange to say it here, on a fancy deck, with my soda in a crystal wineglass and a billionaire in front of me. Like I’m in a movie or something. But it’s the truth. It’s what I want. And so often, we’re told that what we want doesn’t matter. So we never even voice it, let alone ask for it or demand it.
I don’t want to let myself be crushed like that. Not when I can try to climb, even if it’s a precarious path.
“A noble goal,” Mr. Masrani says. “Though politics is a ruthless game.”
“Maybe I’m a ruthless girl,” I say.
It’s out my mouth before I can think, a truth that’s not so pretty. It startles him, I can tell. His eyes widen, and for a second, I’m afraid he’s going to laugh at me. But instead, he steeples his fingers, staring at me over them. “What you are is a surprise, Claire Dearing,” he says. “Your resume is stacked with accomplishments. But you chose a very different direction with your personal essay. It intrigued me. And now that I’ve met you, I’m even more intrigued.”
My cheeks heat up. I want to wriggle in my seat. Is he going to blurt out what my essay was about, here and now? But my worries are immediately swept away, because Beverly’s hurrying up to him.
“Simon, I have Dr. Wu on the line,” she says. “He has some concerns about the intern visit later?”
Mr. Masrani sighs. “Excuse me for a moment,” he says, getting up and walking away with her.
I let out a breath and look up to see Justin staring at me.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re kind of a badass,” he says. “ ‘Maybe I’m a ruthless girl’?”
There go my stupid cheeks again. “Shut up,” I mutter. “It just kind of came out.”
“No, really, that was impressive,” he says. “You took him by surprise. Guys like that…they’re not surprised easily. They’ve seen everything, they’ve done everything. Masrani really has, now that he has Isla Nublar. So when you surprise them, they take notice. I think you won major points.”
“It’s not about that,” I say, and he shoots me an “Are you kidding?” look, all quirked eyebrows and those glasses slipping down his nose. “Okay, fine. I am a bottomless pool of ambition and I really want to impress him. Satisfied?”
“Only if you let me join you in that bottomless pool, because it sounds…intriguing,” Justin says.
I don’t even fight my smile. He is really not helping me with the whole not-liking-him thing.
“You’re not going to tell me what was in your personal essay, are you?” he asks. “You’re just going to let me sit here and stew, wondering what you wrote about that hooked Simon Masrani?”
“Would you tell me about yours?” I ask.
“Sure,” he says, totally ruining my argument and my defense with one easy shrug. Guys. Honestly.
“That is not fair,” I complain, and he laughs, fiddling with his glasses as he turns his attention to the menu.
The waiter comes over to take our orders while Masrani is still talking with Beverly, but before our food arrives, he returns, apologizing for the delay.
“Are we still going to be able to see the labs?” Justin asks.
“Of course,” Mr. Masrani says as the servers deliver our food. I ordered the flatbread pizza, and with the gooey cheese and bright, tart sauce, it’s like biting into heaven.
Masrani and Justin are talking about ROI and franchise agreements, and I just listen for a while until Justin excuses himself to go to the restroom.
“I wouldn’t have revealed the subject of your essay,” Mr. Masrani says when Justin is out of earshot. “Not in front of your peers. I value my interns’ privacy.”
“I appreciate that,” I say.
“There are many reasons why I could have chosen you for this program, Claire,” he goes on. “You are accomplished, you come highly recommended, and you are obviously brilliant. But it wasn’t any of those things that drew me to your application. Political science majors aren’t what we generally look for, you know.”
“But you chose me,” I say, confused.
“Because of your essay,” Mr. Masrani says, and I shift in my seat, feeling exposed all of a sudden. Like I’m five and I’m back at that tap recital I bungled, where I forgot my solo and just froze on the stage in my top hat, everyone looking at me.
I don’t know what to say, really. I knew there was a chance he’d read the intern essays. I guess I just never thought he’d be so involved with us. That I’d be sitting here with this man I admire so much, this man who knows so much about me.
Because that essay…that was the closest to pure me I’ll ever get. It was the easiest and hardest thing I’ve ever done. It was like taking my searching heart out of my chest and mailing it in the essay’s stead.
“Everyone else took the essay question as a challenge to explain some part of their past,” Mr. Masrani continues. “But you…you wrote about the future. Not just your future. The future. But in looking outward instead of inward, you ended up revealing much to me about yourself and how you think.”
Detail a significant challenge and solution.
That was the essay prompt. It was so vague and broad, I remember Regina laughed about it when I showed her. But now, looking across the table at Masrani, I realize that it was vague on purpose.
He wanted to see what we’re made of. What we focus on. Past mistakes or future ones.
I’ve accidentally passed some test I didn’t realize I was taking. And now I have his attention. The back of my neck prickles at the thought, because I know how important this is. If he thinks I’m smart or unique…Justin’s right, that’s huge.
“I am interested in how you think, Claire. You are someone who wants to build a better world. And so do I. This island is part of that. It is an indulgence, on one hand, of course. A man and his dinosaurs.” His eyes sweep down, self-deprecation in them. “But I have built a whole new world. Piece by piece. ‘An ultimate, never-ending, always-nurturing challenge. A chance to start anew.’ It is a true gift.”
My cheeks turn red, because he’s quoting my essay back to me. Simon Masrani is quoting me to me, and I don’t even know what to say in response. Thankfully, Justin saves me from stammering out something ridiculous by coming back just then, and Mr. Masrani changes the subject to some of the other attractions in the park that he wants to show us, like the river curving through the valley where the herbivores live, down which visitors will be able to take a guided kayak tour.
* * *
After we finish lunch, Mr. Masrani accompanies all of us to the true heart of Jurassic World: the command center. But instead of getting to see the state-of-the-art tracking systems and monitoring tech upstairs, we take a freight elevator down so many floors, I’m sure we’re underground by the time the elevator doors open to reveal what seems like acres of glass and stainless steel.
The lab. My heart kicks against my rib cage as I breathe in the air. I can practically smell the science…or maybe that’s the frog parts they’re using to splice missing DNA strands.
A man with black hair and cheekbones that could slice through all the glass walls around him comes striding out of the sterile lab space and into the entryway. He raises an eyebrow at Masrani.
“I told you, I don’t have time for interns today,” he says. “I’ve been brought a very interesting amber specimen with multiple DNA profiles.”
“Dr. Wu, I must insist,” Mr. Masrani says. “I promise you, my interns will not disturb anything. I’m sure they’d love to see this specimen.”
“Are you the Dr. Wu?” Tanya blurts out from behind me. “The one who worked with Dr. Hammond? You were at the original park?”
“Indeed,” Dr. Wu says.
The excited murmur that breaks out among us makes him purse his lips. “I would really prefer to get back to my work,” he says. “The potential of this specimen…”
“Fifteen minutes,” Beverly suggests, or rather, insists, a determined smile on her lips. “The interns need to get a feel for the lab, Dr. Wu. They will be doing rotations in here.”
“Interns break things,” Dr. Wu protests, shaking his head in dismay at the thought.
“I promise not to break anything,” Tanya says.
“Me too!” Art adds, craning to look over Dr. Wu’s shoulder at the lab equipment visible behind those oh-so-tempting glass doors.
“They all promise they will try very hard not to break anything,” Mr. Masrani says, amused. “And if anything does get broken, we can replace it.”
“You can’t replace a sixty-five-million-year-old piece of amber,” Dr. Wu points out reluctantly, but it’s obvious he’s given up.
“We’ll keep them away from that, if it eases your mind,” Mr. Masrani says.
“Fine,” Dr. Wu says, stepping aside. “Don’t touch anything.”
And with that in mind, we walk into the lab, where the real magic happens.
The lab is intimidating. A huge complex of large, open rooms connected by a twisting hallway, it’s all sleek stainless-steel tables, glass walls, bright recessed lighting, and state-of-the-art 3-D imaging, electron microscopes, scanners, and other tech with higher definition than anything on the market. I’m on edge because of Dr. Wu’s lack of enthusiasm, so I keep my elbows tucked in as we pass through a room of a dozen scientists working with old-school equipment: test tubes and beakers. In the next room, techs work at banks of monitors—some display images of dinosaurs; others show DNA strands.
“Perhaps they can at least see the amber specimen?” Beverly suggests to Dr. Wu, who’s leading us through the complicated maze. Everything is open, the huge rooms divided only by glass and screens, so you can see everything going on. Which makes sense—in a place like this, doing such varied, cutting-edge research, the scientists would need to share their work with each other constantly. This is the kind of environment where a biologist or veterinarian might stumble across something that could help the chemists synthesize new drugs or even cures—a true fusion of scientific disciplines. The work being done here…it’s like nothing else in the world. And you can feel it in the air, see it in the faces of the techs as we pass through the rooms.
Every day, the chance to make history and cause true change is at their fingertips.
“Fine, but they need to stay outside the retrieval room,” Dr. Wu says. “It’s a sterile space.”
He comes to a stop outside a room with frosted glass walls. Justin kind of frowns at me, and I’m wondering how we’re supposed to see anything too, until Dr. Wu presses his hand against a scanner and the glass suddenly turns clear.
“Whoa, cool!” Eric says. “Can you do that again so I can get it on camera?”
“No.” Dr. Wu shoots Masrani a look. “You let him bring a camera into my lab?” he asks, like Eric’s dragged in a putrefied corpse.
“He’s getting footage for the intern program,” Mr. Masrani says patiently. “All the footage belongs to the company. And technically, it is my lab.”
Dr. Wu’s raised eyebrow says it all. It may be Mr. Masrani’s lab, but it’s Dr. Wu’s kingdom. And rightfully so. Would any of this exist without him? Doubtful. Dr. Wu knew Dr. Hammond. He was at the original park, and I want to ask so many questions about it, but I have a feeling that would single me out in a bad way.
In the years since the original park, Dr. Wu has continued with the science—developed it, improved it, and honed it. And now here we all are, just months away from making an impossible dream come true—a dream that many scientists, Dr. Wu foremost among them, have dedicated their lives to fostering.
“Don’t touch the glass,” Dr. Wu instructs us, stepping back from the window so we have a full view of the three scientists grouped around a large piece of amber. I can see some dark specks on the shard of fossilized sap—those are the real treasure. The mosquitoes, fossilized millennia ago, with their final meal of dinosaur blood filling their tiny bellies. The precious DNA in that blood served as the building block for this monumental project and this place—the key to all of this greatness. All because Dr. Hammond wondered, What if fossilized mosquitos have dinosaur DNA in their stomachs? And then he went and found out. Proved his hypothesis and returned the dinosaurs to the earth.
That is the power of asking yourself what if?
“We long ago acquired the DNA profiles of our eight premiere species, of course,” Dr. Wu says. “But we must constantly search for more species.” He points at the monitor behind the scientists. “Those are our top ten most wanted species at the moment.”
“What’s a Baryonyx?” Ronnie asks in a low voice next to me as we look at the list.
