Micro - Michael Crichton [64]
“Look at this, guys,” Jenny said, spreading the notebook on the table.
On a page of the lab notebook, somebody had sketched a rough map of the Manoa Valley. The map showed the locations of ten supply stations, scattered through Fern Gully and partway up the mountain slopes toward Tantalus Peak, at increasing distances from the greenhouses and parking lot. The supply stations were designated by letters of the NATO alphabet, from Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie, up to Kilo. There was an arrow marked TO TANTALUS BASE—GREAT BOULDER. Tantalus Crater wasn’t shown on the map, nor was the base.
The map, as crude and incomplete as it was, still contained valuable information. It showed the basic layout of the supply stations. The location of each supply station was indicated by landmarks around the station—trees, rocks, clumps of ferns—making it possible to find the station as long as you could locate the landmarks. There was a station next to the parking lot. It was Station Alpha, and it was located under a clump of white ginger plants, according to a note on the map.
“We could head for Station Alpha,” Peter Jansen said. “Maybe not stay at Alpha, but at least we could search it for more supplies and information.”
“Why should we go anywhere?” Danny said. “Kinsky was right. We have to negotiate with Vin.”
“Don’t you dare try!” Rick was practically shouting.
“Please, stop this!” Amar Singh said. He couldn’t stand conflict. First there had been all the fighting between Rick and Karen, and now Rick was getting into a hassle with Danny. “Rick, people have different styles. You need to be more tolerant of Danny…”
“Cut the crap, Amar. That guy is going to be the death of us all, with his stupid—”
Peter Jansen could feel the situation spiraling out of control. The one thing that would certainly destroy them would be conflict within the group. They had to become a team, Peter thought, or they would soon be dead. Somehow, he had to get this quarrelsome, catty group of intellectuals to understand that survival required cooperation. He stood up and went to the head of the table, and waited for silence. Eventually they quieted down.
“Are you done squabbling?” he said. “Now I have something to say. We’re not in Cambridge anymore. In the academic world, you guys got ahead by cutting down your rivals and proving you’re smarter than everybody else. In this forest, it’s not about getting ahead, it’s about staying alive. We have to cooperate to survive. And we have to kill whatever threatens us or we will be killed.”
“Oh, it’s kill or be killed,” Danny said dismissively. “An outmoded pseudo-Darwinian philosophy dating back to Victorian times.”
“Danny, we have to do whatever it takes to survive,” Peter said. “But there’s more to survival than just killing. Think about who we are as humans. A million years ago, our ancestors survived on the plains of Africa by operating in teams. Bands is a better word for it—we were bands of humans, back then. A million years ago, we were not at the top of the food chain. All kinds of animals hunted us—lions, leopards, hyenas, wild dogs, crocodiles. But we humans have been dealing with predators for a very long time. We survive with brains, weapons, and cooperation—teamwork. I think we were built for this journey. Let’s think of it as the chance of a lifetime to see incredible things in nature no one has ever seen before. But whatever course of action we decide on, we will have to work together or we’ll die. We’re only as strong as the weakest member of our team.” Peter stopped, wondering if he’d gone too far, if he had sounded too preachy to these grad students.
There was a period of silence as they digested Peter’s speech.
Danny Minot was the first to