Threshold shift

Chapter 1

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Isla Nublar. Twenty-two square miles of jungles, grass land, mountains and cliffs.

Jurassic World. A lifelong dream of John Hammond and the reality that had finally come true.

Twelve years ago.

Running successfully, and continuously open, except for a year after The Incident.

Masrani Global had successfully kept the truth behind the chaos hidden, swept under a big rug, and millions had been paid in reparation, to buy silence and repay for lives lost.

No one but a few people knew about the indominus rex. Even less knew what had really occurred.

Now, close to two years later, the theme park was running smoothly, just as successfully as before, and visitors came in strong numbers.

Like before.

As if the deaths and the destruction had never happened.

They had, though. People had died. Visitors, security troopers, keepers and trainers. So many deaths and so little to lessen the impact on family and friends.

Dinosaurs had died, too. Among them the i-rex, the hybrid creature no tourist had ever seen.

It had been a huge monetary loss for Masrani Global. Twenty-six million down the drain. But Simon Masrani had come back out of this catastrophe, blaming extremist animal rights activists, a gas attack, and whatever else his lawyers had been able to cook up.

The loss had been terrible.

And now, today, everything was like before.

With a few changes.

A new attraction had been added.

While dinosaurs had become normal in the past ten years, they were still a sight to behold, still not common enough to not draw the masses, and they were fascinating young and old, world-wide.

People still went into zoos to see giraffes, tigers, lions, elephants, even horses, cows and pigs. And those had been around for a lot longer than Jurassic World.

So people flocked.

The park made money.

Masrani had finalized a new attraction, a safe, family-friendly but still thrilling new enclosure. It was actually an extension of the wide plains where the apatosaurs roamed, and it had been constructed especially for them.

A Walkway Among the Giants.

It had taken nearly six months to build the walkways that snaked along tree tops, spanned the river and a lake, and wound down toward the grasslands where the Gyrospheres awaited. The apatosaurs moved freely within the moderate jungle, picking leaves, looking at the excited tourists, almost indifferent to their shouts and cameras clicking.

A special system, not unlike what had been used for the Gyrospheres, kept the animals from actually touching the gawking masses. It was an invisible barrier, a window without glass. It also kept the apatosaurs from accidentally tearing down a walkway. They could only ever enter in a specific way. The animals had been quick to learn that.

Reggie Faulkes, head keeper of the apatosaurs, triceratopes and stegosaurs, had worked with his biggest animals tirelessly to get them accustomed to the new attraction, to the people suddenly on eye-level, and to remain calm and at ease. Becky, the lead female, had been essential in that. Where she went, the others did, too. If she declared an area safe, they trusted her and followed.