The hatchery was quiet.
Not sterile, not cold, quiet.
The room was dim, lit by pale violet from the UV incubators, each cradle pulsing softly with ambient warmth.
The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and damp straw.
Six eggs sat nestled like stones in a false nest, their speckled shells faintly glistening. One of them twitched.
We all gathered behind the glass, me, Jia, Kamal, Carlos, Marin, Avery, even Denny who'd somehow elbowed past three interns to get up front.
"There," Jia whispered, pressing a hand to the window. "Top right. That one."
The movement was unmistakable now. A slow, rhythmic push.
Inside, something was fighting its way out of time.
A crack appeared. Thin at first, like a fracture in glass.
Then another.
The shell splintered along one edge, popped slightly, and something slick and beaked pushed through, smeared in embryonic fluid and primal determination.
Carlos let out a stunned, quiet "Whoa."
The Gallimimus hatchling shook free of its half-shell with a soft thud, tiny limbs sprawling outward like a new foal.
Its eyes blinked wide, unformed but alert. It chirped, a high, warbling sound that didn't seem to belong to something from this century.
Then the second one started cracking. Then the third.
"They're coming out together," Kamal said softly. "That's a good sign."
I watched, pulse quickening. This wasn't a simulation or a sandbox model or a protein chain spiraling on a screen. This was real.
The impossible had decided to show up, right on schedule.
Jia turned to me, beaming. "Mr. Masrani, this is it."
I nodded slowly. "First heartbeat of the park."
Three Days Later – Gallimimus Enclosure, Late Morning
The air smelled like fresh mulch and misted leaves.
A layer of humidity hung low over the artificial clearing as the hatchery gates hissed open.
The six juveniles stumbled out into the sun like kids on a school field trip, awkward and beautiful, their legs too long for their bodies, their heads twitching in all directions.
Three of them chirped and darted forward, testing the soft earth underfoot. The other three hung back, tighter together, smaller movements, eyes darting to the shadows.
"The bold ones and the introverts," Marin murmured beside me, tablet in hand.
She walked the inner fence line, boots sinking slightly into the still-settling terrain.
The water feature was now operational, a shallow crescent-shaped pond edged with natural rock and shaded brush.
Around it, Carlos's crew had done an impressive job blending modern construction with terrain that looked stolen from a forgotten savanna.
"They're moving in pairs," Marin noted. "That's a stress reflex. Give it another few hours and they'll find a rhythm."
"I thought they'd be louder," Denny said.
"They will be," Marin replied. "When they know it's safe."
Avery approached from the outer access trail, helmet clipped to her side.
"Enclosure passed all checks. No leaks, no weak posts. Motion sensors mapped to overlapping grid zones," she said. "But I want something else."
"More fences?" I asked.
"Shelters," she said. "For guests. If we're really doing this, live animals in full view, we need bolt-holes. Panic shelters, if things wrong. Hardened safe rooms with direct line-of-sight coverage."
Carlos looked up from his blueprint tablet. "We can work it into the path design. Maybe use artificial rock formations to hide them."
"Get started with it" I said.
Marin answered. "Also about the staff, we also need somewhere to breathe. Away from the labs and fences."
Carlos smirked. "You asking for a spa, Saad?"
She didn't smile. "I'm asking for a room without fluorescent lighting and stress migraines."
He nodded. "If its okay with Boss. I'll draw up plans for a full staff rec center. Lounge, gym, maybe a café. We're building a park, not a prison."
"Thank you for reminding me Marin ,Carlos go ahead with it," I said.
"Everyone needs somewhere to cooldown"
That Night – Storm Front Incoming
The rain hit like it had a grudge that night.
One minute the wind was whispering through the treetops.
The next, the sky split open like it had been waiting all year.
Literal sheets of water crashed against the compound windows as the generator grid lights flickered on and off. and then it happened, darkness.
"Main grid just died," came a voice from the overhead comms.
"Voltage dip across the southern quadrant. We're on backup."
A low hum powered back to life beneath our feet. Emergency lighting kicked in, amber strips along the walls, though it was enough to hardly navigate.
I turned to Avery. " whats the status of the enclosure?"
"Stable. All backup systems green." she paused. "Except…"
My earpiece crackled.
"This is Ranger Team One," a voice said. "We've got a breach on the Gallimimus paddock. Section C-4. Looks like a tree came down across the outer fence."
A moment of still silence followed.
Then I was moving.
"Carlos," I called over my shoulder. "Get your team. We need that fence patched before sunrise."
"Already on it," she said, bolting for the utility bay.
"Avery," I said, turning. "We're going up."
Ten Minutes Later – In the Sky
The helicopter buffeted hard as we lifted above the tree line, blades slicing rain like knives.
Avery sat beside me, rifle slung.
Marin sat behind us, eyes scanning the thermal tablet.
"There," she said, pointing. "North trail. Movement in the underbrush."
I looked through the side window, and saw it.
A single juvenile Gallimimus, streaking through the trees in a panic, feathers soaked, limbs pumping wildly as it ran through unfamiliar terrain.
"Damn thing's heading toward the east perimeter," I muttered. "its an Incomplete zone there. If it hits the cliffs—"
"Not today,", Avery said. leaning out the side, tranquilizer rifle in hand.
The chopper dipped low, blades roaring over the canopy.
The Gallimimus bolted across a clearing, a blur of motion and terror.
Avery took the shot.
The dart flew straight, hit just below the shoulder.
The animal first slowed and then stumbled.
Collapsed gently into the wet ferns with a soft thump.
The ground Ranger team then started with the containment procedures to get the animal back to the enclosure.
Later – Hangar Bay
The storm had passed.
We were soaked, silent, crowded into the operations hangar, surrounded by maps and screens and coffee mugs that hadn't moved in hours.
One fence. One animal. One night. No casualties. No guests.
But it had felt close.
Carlos leaned back in his chair, exhausted. "Tree's cleared. Fence patched. We'll reinforce the entire stretch tomorrow."
Marin dried her hands on a towel. "We planned for predators. Security zones. But the weather? You didn't plan for the ground fighting back."
"It was one tree," Denny said quietly.
Marin gave him a look. "It's never just one tree."
I stood near the command board,
'I got comfortable with things going so smoothly, I lowered my guard' Masarani thought.
The island had reminded us that some things don't follow blueprints.
Carlos let out a long stretch and grinned.
"Honestly? We got lucky. Park wasn't open, nobody got eaten… and, praise be, no lawsuits. That's a triple miracle in my book."
Outside, In the departing clouds thunder still rumbled faintly beyond the mountains.
Inside, everything was back under control.
For now.