Indiana Jones and the Dinosaur Eggs (22 page)

"Don't do this. You aren't thinking straight."

"There's nothing wrong with
my
thinking." Granger laughed. "But yours is out of line. Whatever is inside that egg is going back with me, and that's final."

"You aren't leaving me much choice." Indy sighed.

"Whew!" Joan said, attempting to change the subject. She put her arm around Indy's waist so that he wouldn't be able to lunge at Granger. "Is it me, or is it hot in here?"

"It's not the heat," Indy said. "It's the stupidity."

Granger swung a meaty fist toward Indy's jaw so quickly that Joan had no time to get out of the way.

Indy shoved Joan aside as he brought up a forearm to block Granger's heavy blow. Joan tumbled to the floor of the shrine just when Granger's fist landed on the muscle below his elbow. Indy felt sharp pain, wincing before he took a step back.

"You shouldn't have done that," he added in a voice like dry sand.

"To the devil with you, Jones!" Granger shouted, bringing his left fist whistling through the air in Indy's direction.

Cat-quick, Indy sidestepped the wild punch and swung a fist into Granger's belly, striking soft flesh that brought a grunt from deep in his throat. Granger's knees buckled momentarily, then he righted himself and reached for his stomach.

Indy threw a left jab, hitting bone above Granger's temple with enough force to crack knuckles, twisting his head violently to one side.

Granger staggered back near the shrine, blinking furiously to clear his addled brain.

"The egg!" Starbuck shouted, rushing toward Granger to block his path.

Granger shook his head, crouching down, his senses returned all at once. He leaped for Indy, looping a dangerous right hook at his opponent's cheek.

"Dammit, Granger!" Indy cried. "You're forcing me to knock some sense into your empty skull."

Granger's fist whispered past Indy's face, off by a mere few whiskers. This gave Indy an opening he hadn't counted on while his adversary was off balance. He drove a fist into Granger's belly again, not wanting to seriously hurt a friend who was, for the moment, out of control.

His punch brought a deeper groan from Granger, who fell back from the force of Indy's knuckles. He stumbled toward the shrine on rubbery legs, reeling back blindly, gasping for air.

"The egg!" Starbuck cried again.

Granger tripped, slamming against a much smaller and lighter Starbuck. Both men tumbled over the cradle that held the egg before they slumped to the dirt floor.

Joan screamed. In the same instant Indy was diving for the egg with arms outstretched. The precious egg teetered on an edge of the shrine, then it rolled off.

As if in slow motion the egg fell into Indy's hands, but the weight of it dropped his knuckles to the stone floor. A cracking sound echoed like thunder in the grotto, a sound that brought a groan of a different kind from Indy and Starbuck.

"It's broken!" Starbuck shrieked.

Joan wailed as though she was in pain.

In the dim light from the lamp, Indy saw the shell split in two places. Fluid leaked into his palms before the egg broke in half near its center. Bits of shell cascaded to the floor. Indy was left holding a sticky, squirming ball of rough skin and armor plate that was so heavy he moaned with effort.

A nightmarish face arose from the ball of flesh he tried to grip in his hands. Dark, reptilian eyes beheld him for a moment. A pair of knobs protruded above the eyes, two tiny horns in their earliest stage of formation. A single ivory-colored knob adorned the little creature's nose. Indy was struck immediately with how much it resembled a miniature rhinoceros.

Joan gasped. "It's a triceratops, and it's alive."

The creature made no sound. It stopped squirming in Indy's palms, moving its unsightly head toward the carbide light. Indy put it down gently on the grotto floor when Starbuck knelt beside it.

"A living fossil," Starbuck said with reverence. "It isn't a dream any longer."

The animal moved its short legs, testing them. In a moment of silence Granger groaned again, clasping both hands to his stomach.

A second later the triceratops planted its rear legs underneath its body and raised up unsteadily, hindquarters in the air. Next, it came to its front feet, swaying a little until it was sure of its balance.

And still it made no sound.

"I'll be damned," Indy whispered. "Here's the last dinosaur on earth and it's looking at us like we're the ones who don't belong here." Indy took his hands away, wiping the sticky fluid clinging to his palms and fingers on the straw.

Granger sat up, warning Indy to be ready for another round of flying fists.

"Look at this thing, Granger," Indy said, coming to his knees. "How can you or anyone else believe something so spectacular is worthy of being stuffed in a taxidermy shop? This creature is a part of something much larger than any of us can comprehend. We can't run the risk of doing anything that might upset nature's peculiar balance here. Some freakish twist of fate allowed this triceratops to escape extinction in this exact spot. It simply can't be removed. The odds against its survival are too high."

Granger struggled to his feet.

"Don't you think nature—or God, if you will—has some plan for this living, breathing anachronism? We can't kill it like we have killed other living things on the planet. I'm sure it would make one helluva hatband, Granger old boy, but it seems to me it's here for something more important."

Indy got up cautiously, keeping an eye on Granger's hands.

Granger studied the baby dinosaur for several thoughtful seconds. The animal simply stood there watching as four humans stared back at it.

"I'm sorry," Granger said, taking a deep breath. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I don't know what came over me. All I could think of was a lifetime of hardship with no reward."

"No reward?" Indy asked. "Granger, are you nuts?"

"Normally, no."

"Think of the adventures we've had together," Indy said. "How many other people can say they actually did something to make a difference in this world, instead of just going along with the crowd?"

"You can't put it in the bank," Granger complained.

"Friendship won't fit in a savings account either," Indy said, "but I wouldn't trade your friendship for all the money in the world. I know you hate those funny guys in the orange robes, but what they say about money makes sense."

"Sorry I lost my head just now," Granger said.

Starbuck distracted everyone by touching the dinosaur with the tip of a finger.

"He'll be getting hungry," Starbuck said. Then he spoke to one of the children outside the shrine. Soon, a willow basket full of colorful blossoms was brought to the shrine.

Starbuck offered the baby one of the flowers.

He sniffed at it and then took it in his parrotlike beak, munching happily.

"He's eating," Starbuck said excitedly.

A noise startled Indy and the others. It sounded like the grunt of a baby pig. The tiny triceratops blew through oblong nostrils at the end of a somewhat pudgy nose, its pointed lip curling toward Starbuck's finger.

"He said hello to us," Starbuck joked.

Joan knelt beside her father, staring at the baby with a look of utter fascination. "Welcome to the twentieth century," she said quietly. "You can't imagine how surprised we are to see you."

Indy turned back to Granger. Granger extended a handshake.

"I'm truly sorry for the way I behaved, Indy."

Indy rubbed sore knuckles, then grinned. "No need to say any more. All I want is your word on one thing... we never reveal the location of this valley to anyone, until Professor Starbuck and Joan agree that the time has come to show the world our secret."

"Agreed," Granger promised.

They shook hands.

Later, as Joan held the sleeping baby dinosaur in her arms, Indy sat down next to her.

"It's hard to imagine," she said. "This little ball of horn and skin will eventually grow to be over thirty feet long and weigh eight tons. A real monster."

"Why, Sister"—Indy grinned—"you seem almost
happy
."

"I am," she said. "For the first time in my life, I'm thinking of something besides myself. My father needs me, and this little thunder lizard needs me as well. Two out of three ain't bad."

"What do you mean?" Indy asked.

"I had hoped you would round out this happy trinity."

Indy was silent.

She placed a hand on his arm. Then she leaned over, carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping baby, and kissed him with as much passion as she could muster in so awkward a position. Indy closed his eyes and could feel the world slip away.

"Stay with me," she urged.

"It's tempting," Indy said.

"Then why not?" she asked. "You'll never find another paradise like this one. No war, no crime, no need to worry about money. Everything you could hope for is here—and more."

"I agree," Indy said. "It
is
a paradise. And I think, in time, I could learn to forgive you for lying like a rug to me and Brody and Granger. Hell, who am I kidding? I already forgive you."

"Stay," she urged.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's too easy," Indy said. "I want to forget all the hatred and disappointment that is in the world. But it would be just too damned
comfortable.
It feels wrong."

"What's so wrong about feeling good?" Joan asked.

"Nothing, if that's where your destiny leads you," he said. "But this isn't for me. My gut tells me I still have some things to do out there."

"And you're still in love with—"

"Alecia," Indy said.

Joan looked away.

"But I'm going back to the world knowing that you were the good person I thought you were when I first met you," Indy said. "Despite all that has happened on this journey, the cannibals and the privations, you have restored my faith in humanity. That is what I'm taking back with me. And the knowledge that you and your father are here, taking care of the past for the future."

"I'll miss you," she whispered.

"I'll miss you, too," Indy said. "But keep taking notes. Write that book. You owe it to the world. That's
your
destiny."

10
The Knife of Genghis Khan

A desert wind blew hot and dry across Indy's sun-blistered skin. The crown of his hat was soaked with sweat and sand particles clung to his dampened neck and forearms. Loki trotted beside him, staying in his master's shadow to be out of direct sun.

Granger walked beside them, the Mauser slung like a pole across his shoulders.

Off to the south a range of tall mountains purpled in haze stirred up by the mighty steppe winds blasting across the open flats. A few stunted trees dotted the horizon here and there, offering scant shade for weary desert travelers. Indy knew that both he and Granger, and probably the dog, were too thirsty to go much farther. They had slung gourds filled with food and water over their shoulders before leaving the secret valley, but despite their best attempts at rationing, their supplies were now exhausted.

"Stop," Granger said.

"What is it?" Indy asked tiredly.

"Over there, Jones." Granger pointed. "On that ridge to the south. It's about four hundred yards, but I think I saw antelope."

Indy nodded.

"I'm going to attempt to bag it," Granger said. "It's worth a chance. We need meat, and we could drink the blood."

Indy made a face.

"You stay here," Granger said. "I can't get close enough for a shot with you and the dog in tow. Why don't you go take a rest in the shade of that rock over there. And stay put, because I need to be able to find you when I get back."

"No problem," Indy said. "I can use the rest."

Indy trudged over to the boulder and sat down with his back to the shady side. Loki followed and put his head on Indy's thigh, begging for affection.

"How're you doing?" Indy asked the dog. "Thirsty? So am I."

The dog panted happily.

They had waited in the shade of the rock for more than an hour when Loki growled.

"What is it, boy?"

The dog looked back at Indy with concerned eyes, as if he understood. Then he growled again, hairs bristling along his back.

Indy was sure they were back in the territory controlled by Tzen Khan, so why did Loki sense trouble? Or had Granger's memory failed and led them into a region ruled by some other warlord?

Loki continued to growl.

The shepherd's good ear stood up, cocked in the direction of a sand dune a couple of hundred yards away. Indy trusted the dog's keen senses.

"Something's behind that dune," Indy said to himself. He stood, took the revolver from his belt, and moved cautiously forward.

When they had closed to within fifty feet of the top of the dune, Loki became hesitant. He whined softly, and looked at Indy with eyes that seemed to plead for them to go back.

"C'mon, Loki. Whatever's back there can't be all that bad. Tzi is dead, and that only leaves—"

Loki barked savagely when a distant figure rode over the top of the dune. A thick-chested Mongol atop a nervous chestnut stud halted his mount on the crest of the sand hill.