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Authors: John Kessel
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keep this creature in the kennel and we'll guarantee its safety. We are used to transporting livestock."
"This is not livestock. It is the rarest of dinosaurs."
=Perfect, Dr. Einstein,= Bill sighed.
Owen ignored him. "Is the time travel stage back in service?"
"Technicians are still testing the momentum compensator."
He thought for a moment. "I'm not about to let this creature be endangered."
=Tell her that we don't wanna see filet of dinosaur on the menu tonight.=
"--and I don't want to see filet of dinosaur on the menu tonight."
"This is a four-star hotel, Dr. Vannice. It's true we serve dodo au vin on our menu, but I'm sure we would not know how to prepare a dinosaur."
Owen pondered. "Do you have any atmosphere-controlled cages in this kennel?"
"We do."
"If you'll make one available and ensure security, I'll bring Wilma down there."
"I'll have the hotel AI programmed to keep a twenty-four-hour watch on her," Ms. Toppknocker said. "But these room damages--"
"Will be paid in full. You've heard of my family?"
"Of course--assuming you are really Owen Vannice. We've seen plenty of genetically altered impostors before."
"I'm aware of such impersonators. I can supply my genetic bona fides."
The manager's tone improved markedly. "Of course, Dr. Vannice, we trust you to do the responsible thing."
"I'll move Wilma down within the hour, Ms. Toppknocker."
=Wait a minute, boss.=
"Good day, Dr. Vannice."
"Good day." Owen closed the door before Bill could get them into further trouble. "I'll take her down to the kennel myself," he said. "She may be better off there anyway."
=So we're going to stay longer?=
"Do you want to take a chance on a faulty momentum compensator? We could take the next jump and end up in outer space. We’ll wait a couple of days. Meanwhile, the hotel room isn't doing her any good. In a controlled atmosphere cage I can boost the carbon dioxide level to Cretaceous levels, control the temperature. Wilma'll be feeling better in a day or so."
=Something's fishy here. Yesterday you couldn't wait to get her back uptime. Now you want to be a tourist. Something tells me this change of heart has something to do with that microwave soufflé you chased around Rome.=
"I wish you wouldn't use that kind of language."
=I don't know any other languages. This Faison woman figured out you had a dinosaur mighty quick. Given the fact that your father invested a billion dollars in setting up your dinosaur station, you ought at least to protect his investment. I told you not to admit anything to her.=
"Yes. You almost shouted a hole in my cerebrum. My ears are still ringing."
=I can't make your ears ring. I'm in your head.=
"Well what was I supposed to do, lie?"
=Yes. You don't even know what her game is.=
"She doesn't have any game. She's just interested in paleontology."
=Spelled M-O-N-E-Y.=
"You know that’s not true. Her father owns a villa in Provence and a plastic farm in Southeast Asia."
=To hear her tell it.=
"Bill, I can take care of myself. Not that I'm going to need to, with Genevieve. You ought to give me more credit."
=Just as long as you don't give her any. Naked bed men love screaming wicked sex women!=
"Which makes about as much sense as everything else you've told me today. Oatmeal in the bathtub!"
Owen cleaned out the animal carrier in preparation for the move. The batteries on the lightweight, controlled atmosphere case still carried most of their charge. The message board and security alarm tested out. He turned to the bathroom.
Wilma lifted her head as soon as he entered. Owen sat down on the ledge of the bathtub, leaned forward and examined her. Why was she so ravenous? He'd expected her appetite to decline as she adapted to the more intense regime of care he was giving her. Perhaps the strangeness of her surroundings made her anxious. In the bright bathroom light the dappled yellow and green markings of her back took on a bluish tinge. As she aged the pattern would darken to
"This is not livestock. It is the rarest of dinosaurs."
=Perfect, Dr. Einstein,= Bill sighed.
Owen ignored him. "Is the time travel stage back in service?"
"Technicians are still testing the momentum compensator."
He thought for a moment. "I'm not about to let this creature be endangered."
=Tell her that we don't wanna see filet of dinosaur on the menu tonight.=
"--and I don't want to see filet of dinosaur on the menu tonight."
"This is a four-star hotel, Dr. Vannice. It's true we serve dodo au vin on our menu, but I'm sure we would not know how to prepare a dinosaur."
Owen pondered. "Do you have any atmosphere-controlled cages in this kennel?"
"We do."
"If you'll make one available and ensure security, I'll bring Wilma down there."
"I'll have the hotel AI programmed to keep a twenty-four-hour watch on her," Ms. Toppknocker said. "But these room damages--"
"Will be paid in full. You've heard of my family?"
"Of course--assuming you are really Owen Vannice. We've seen plenty of genetically altered impostors before."
"I'm aware of such impersonators. I can supply my genetic bona fides."
The manager's tone improved markedly. "Of course, Dr. Vannice, we trust you to do the responsible thing."
"I'll move Wilma down within the hour, Ms. Toppknocker."
=Wait a minute, boss.=
"Good day, Dr. Vannice."
"Good day." Owen closed the door before Bill could get them into further trouble. "I'll take her down to the kennel myself," he said. "She may be better off there anyway."
=So we're going to stay longer?=
"Do you want to take a chance on a faulty momentum compensator? We could take the next jump and end up in outer space. We’ll wait a couple of days. Meanwhile, the hotel room isn't doing her any good. In a controlled atmosphere cage I can boost the carbon dioxide level to Cretaceous levels, control the temperature. Wilma'll be feeling better in a day or so."
=Something's fishy here. Yesterday you couldn't wait to get her back uptime. Now you want to be a tourist. Something tells me this change of heart has something to do with that microwave soufflé you chased around Rome.=
"I wish you wouldn't use that kind of language."
=I don't know any other languages. This Faison woman figured out you had a dinosaur mighty quick. Given the fact that your father invested a billion dollars in setting up your dinosaur station, you ought at least to protect his investment. I told you not to admit anything to her.=
"Yes. You almost shouted a hole in my cerebrum. My ears are still ringing."
=I can't make your ears ring. I'm in your head.=
"Well what was I supposed to do, lie?"
=Yes. You don't even know what her game is.=
"She doesn't have any game. She's just interested in paleontology."
=Spelled M-O-N-E-Y.=
"You know that’s not true. Her father owns a villa in Provence and a plastic farm in Southeast Asia."
=To hear her tell it.=
"Bill, I can take care of myself. Not that I'm going to need to, with Genevieve. You ought to give me more credit."
=Just as long as you don't give her any. Naked bed men love screaming wicked sex women!=
"Which makes about as much sense as everything else you've told me today. Oatmeal in the bathtub!"
Owen cleaned out the animal carrier in preparation for the move. The batteries on the lightweight, controlled atmosphere case still carried most of their charge. The message board and security alarm tested out. He turned to the bathroom.
Wilma lifted her head as soon as he entered. Owen sat down on the ledge of the bathtub, leaned forward and examined her. Why was she so ravenous? He'd expected her appetite to decline as she adapted to the more intense regime of care he was giving her. Perhaps the strangeness of her surroundings made her anxious. In the bright bathroom light the dappled yellow and green markings of her back took on a bluish tinge. As she aged the pattern would darken to
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