Day of the Predator - Alex Scarrow [124]
His mantra back in the lab, back when he was approaching Edward Chan and fingering the gun in his bag. He’d been ready to die then for a cause only a few seemed to truly understand. He was just as ready to die now.
Just as long as the boy keeps his promise.
There was no knowing, but instinct, hope … told Howard that Edward had seen enough of the nightmare of time travel for himself to know that his unique talent could never be allowed to find its voice.
And that’s all that matters. Right?
Howard stared down the creature in front of him. ‘Mission completed,’ he uttered to himself with a growing smile spread across his boyish face.
‘Come on, then, ugly,’ he said, advancing on the thing just as the leaves behind him shuffled and swayed with the arrival of the other two, ready to finish him off.
CHAPTER 67
2001, New York
They returned to the archway and Forby wound the shutter down again.
‘So,’ said the man as he shouldered his assault rifle and cranked the handle. ‘What I don’t get is if this is still a version of the year 2001 how come those dino-humans out there aren’t a lot more advanced?’
Maddy and Sal looked at each other. ‘I dunno,’ said Maddy. ‘I’m no anthropologist.’
‘It’s a good question, Forby,’ said Cartwright. He turned round and crouched to get one last look out at the rainforest version of the Hudson River delta, and the far-off cluster of rounded huts on the muddy banks of Manhattan island. ‘A good question … and I’ll hazard a guess. They’re a dead-end branch of evolution.’
Forby looked at him. ‘Sir?’
‘Those things out there –’ he flicked a finger out at the narrowing window of alternative world outside – ‘if they really are the direct descendants of some species that survived the end of the Cretaceous era, a species that somehow survived as a result of something that’s been changed –’ he looked at the girls – ‘by your friend, then they’ve been around for tens of millions of years.’
‘Well, that’s exactly my point, sir. How come they aren’t light-years more advanced than humans? How come there isn’t some gigantic lizard version of Futurama out there?’ Forby finished cranking the shutter down. The archway was dim once more, lit by the sterile fizzing glow of the ceiling tube light.
‘They plateaued,’ said Cartwright. ‘Perhaps their species evolved to the best it could possibly be. And then just stopped.’
Sal made a face. ‘I thought evolution never stopped. I thought it always changed, always, like, adapting.’
‘Oh, but it does and can stop,’ he replied. ‘There are species alive today that are virtually identical to their distant prehistoric ancestors – sharks, for example. Nature had evolved them to be perfect for their environment, perfect killing machines … why bother adapting any further?’ He shrugged. ‘Perhaps in this world, those reptilian hominids out there are the dominant predator, with nothing to compete against … and have been that way for millions of years?
‘Evolution is nature’s way of problem solving. If something changes that challenges a species’ ability to survive, then that stimulates an adaptive response. If there’s nothing to challenge a species’ existence, then why would it ever need to change?’ Cartwright shrugged. ‘A dead-end of evolution.’
‘A dead-end world,’ echoed Forby.
They made their way across the dim archway. ‘On the other hand, maybe there’s some practical limit to how much smarter that species outside can get? Maybe those long heads are already too heavy to develop any greater cranial capacity?’
‘So their brains will never get any bigger?’
‘That’s right. And they’ll never do any better than spears, mud huts and dugout canoes.’
‘Well,’ said Maddy, approaching the desk, ‘whatever. We’ll never know, because those creepy-looking things weren’t meant to happen.’ She sat down at the computer desk. ‘Bob, how’re you doing with those candidate signals?’
> Analysis completed. The last 1,507 density soundings before you ordered me to cease the sweep indicated the immediate location was occupied by a permanent physical obstruction. This