Into the Badlands. Caron Todd
hasn’t said a word. I promised to help him get some paperwork done.”
“We’re all rooting for you, if that makes you feel any better, Susannah.”
“It does. Thanks.” Watching her friends waiting to hear if she was the new head of dinosaur research was even harder than waiting herself. It couldn’t be much longer before they all heard. Bruce was leaving Friday, just four days away.
SUSANNAH SWUNG OPEN her office door, rippling papers on her bulletin board. As she went by, she straightened one, a crayon drawing of a tall, thin stick lady with a long black braid, wide gray eyes and a big smile. It was labeled Auntie Sue and signed “XXX OOO Tim,” in spidery letters that careened across the page. Tim was her best friend’s five-year-old. Diane’s office was just across the hall.
While she waited for her computer to boot up, Susannah started a pot of coffee dripping and checked her answering machine for the morning’s messages. There was just one, from a Calgary television producer named Sylvia Hall. The message didn’t give any details. Curious, Susannah sat at her desk to return the call.
Ms. Hall’s voice was calm and confident. “I saw a piece in the Herald about your hadrosaur quarry. It sounds fascinating. I’m not exactly sure where it is, though. The article was a bit mysterious about that.”
“We don’t publicize the locations of our quarries,” Susannah explained. “Fossils can be surprisingly fragile, so we like to restrict traffic, even foot traffic. Unfortunately, sight-seers have been known to make off with whatever they can carry.”
“I understand. Could we bring a camera out there in a week or two? Of course, we’d be careful to keep the location secret.”
“I’d be glad to show you around.” Susannah began to jot notes on a pad of paper beside the telephone. “We’ve barely started, though. By next year we’ll have more concrete information—”
“My viewers are fascinated by the process. They don’t need to wait for the results. You’re part of the story. Picture this—one of those gigantic old bones upright against the sky. A petite paleontologist standing beside it proudly—”
Susannah put down her pen. “I’m not all that petite.”
“You get the idea. We want to capture that eureka! feeling when you find something wonderful, the adventure of the experience—”
“Adventure?” Susannah repeated mildly. “The most exciting thing I’ve done out there lately is try escarole on my tomato sandwich. It was kind of bitter.”
There was a pause. “I sense you have a problem with the concept, Dr. Robb.”
“What you’re describing is entertainment, not science. That’s not my style.”
The producer’s cool voice encouraged Susannah to be reasonable. “Why shouldn’t my audience be entertained by your science? You’ll catch their interest, they’ll want to visit your museum—”
It was exactly the kind of thinking that got under Susannah’s skin. “When we’ve had a chance to assess the significance of what we’ve found, I’ll be glad to do a program.”
Crisply Ms. Hall said, “That’s science, dusty chalk on a blackboard science. I’m afraid that’s not my style. Give me a call if you change your mind.” There was a click as the phone disconnected.
Susannah sat back in her chair, fuming. Was there any chance she was wrong to resist pop paleontology? Maybe inaccurate publicity was better than none…she knew her cautious style didn’t attract a large audience.
Pushing the conversation from her mind, she clicked on the computer screen to open one of the files Bruce had asked her to handle. He wanted to drum up funding for a closed-circuit television system in the lab that would give museum visitors a technician’s-eye view of fossil preparation. Funding was only part of the problem. Charlie Morgan, the museum’s head conservator, opposed the idea. Of course, Charlie was chronically opposed to new ideas. She could almost see his point on this one. The system would be great for visitors, but you’d hesitate to blow your nose or scratch an itch with the world looking on.
“Susannah? Got a minute?”
Kim Johnson, a student who was getting field experience at the Bearpaw Formation quarry, stood hesitantly at the door. Her slight build and willowy arms suggested she should be waving a fan, not swinging a geologist’s hammer, but sharp eyes and a delicate touch with fragile specimens made up for her lack of muscular strength. For one distracting moment, Susannah imagined her on a television screen dwarfed by a King Kong bone. I know somebody who can make you a star…
“Come on in. Taking a break?”
Kim sat on the edge of a chair across from Susannah’s desk. She glanced at the open door and lowered her voice. “I wanted to talk to you about Bruce’s party.”
“How are the plans coming?”
“We’ve got a couple of problems. The baker’s having trouble with the cake, for one thing. He says the tyrannosaurus either falls on its snout, or its head falls off. He wants to do a centrosaurus.”
“Bruce is a carnivore specialist. It’s got to be a tyrannosaur.”
Kim nodded. “I know, but he says a centrosaur stands on four short legs. It’s got a good base.”
“What if the T-Rex attacked a centrosaurus?”
“And it could hold the T-Rex up,” Kim said quickly. “That should work.”
“If it doesn’t, we’ll just say the centrosaurus won.”
Kim laughed. “Okay, could happen. I’ll suggest it.” Her smile faded. “The other problem is with the decorations. Paul’s insisting on an idea that probably goes too far.”
“Again?” Paul was the field technician who helped run the Bearpaw Formation quarry, but he didn’t let his responsibilities interfere with having a good time.
“He wants to lie down in the tyrannosaur exhibit, splashed with ketchup, with a spotlight on the whole tableau. I thought you might not want him to do it, in case the T-Rex got damaged.”
“Bruce would love it. As long as Paul doesn’t try to climb into the skeleton’s jaws, it’s all right with me. You don’t look happy with the idea, though.”
Kim hesitated. “It’s not that.”
“Is something else worrying you?”
“I’d like your opinion…” Kim’s voice trailed off.
Susannah waited.
“I don’t want to make trouble for anyone.”
“No, of course not.” What could be wrong? A dry bank account? Unsatisfactory field experience? Gossip at the quarry? The Bearpaw team was having an unproductive summer; tempers might be fraying. Even small problems could become irritating when a team worked for a long time under a hot sun.
After another moment of uncertainty, Kim seemed to make a decision. “You know, I think I should try to handle it myself first. It’s kind of embarrassing to come here and make a fuss, and then duck out.”
“Don’t worry about it. We can talk later if you change your mind. In the meantime, tell Paul he can go ahead with his bloodthirsty scenario.”
Kim dredged up a smile. “He’ll be so pleased. And I’ll stop at the bakery on my way to the quarry. Thanks, Susannah.” She left the office, still radiating worry.
Moments later, footsteps sounded in the hall, and Bruce appeared in the doorway, bearded and shaggy haired. When Susannah saw his face, her stomach began a free fall.
He got right to the point. “The board has gone with someone else, Susannah. Alexander Blake. Heard of him?”
She nodded. Alexander Blake was a high-profile kind of a guy.