habit he had ac-quired from hunting fossils in the desert. It took a groggy moment before he remembered that he wasn't in the de-sert and that the quarry he would seek still had meat on its bones. Once he realized where he was, his thoughts returned to the mystery that troubled him as he had drifted off to sleep—who, or what, had built the stone rooms in the cliff?
Rick reviewed all his possible answers to that question. Each seemed improbable. Perhaps some unknown civi- lization had risen in the Mesozoic. He recalled the spec-ulative drawings of intelligent dinosaurs, bulbous-headed and looking remarkably like humans. Yet these hypo-thetical images envisioned a world where the dinosaurs had never become extinct and had, instead, evolved to fill mankind's role on the planet. So far, the fossil record showed that the cleverest animal in the Cretaceous was as smart as an ostrich.
Alternatively, the rooms might have been constructed by extraterrestrials. Yet, if they were made by aliens or intelligent dinosaurs, why did the rooms respond to En-glish commands?
Rick did not have the temperament to lie in his bunk for long. He had always preferred fieldwork to theorizing. Problems and puzzles made him restless, eager to search for hard evidence. Besides, direct investigation seemed the most promising approach. Certainly, asking questions was out. Joe was not going to provide any answers. Rick was unsure why it was risky to speak to Green about the matter, yet that seemed to be the case, if Joe were to be believed.
Rick was up when he heard a noise outside the tent. There was the soft clanking of pots, then the sound of running water. He looked about and noticed that James's bunk was empty. Rick dressed and left the tent. He found James heating some water on the stove.
'Good morning, Rick. Care for some coffee?'
'You've read my mind.'
James tossed a handful of grounds into the water and waited for it to boil. 'It's camp coffee, I'm afraid. Pandit finds it appalling.'
'Camp coffee's fine with me,' replied Rick, 'I grew up on it.'
'So did I,' said James. 'We'll make a more civilized brew for our guests.'
'Are they up yet?' asked Rick.
'Why don't you check,' said James. 'Mr. Green will want his breakfast in bed. The coffee should be ready when you get back.'
RICK RETURNED TO the aroma of coffee. It seemed es-pecially intense and made him think of camping with Tom.
'Should I wake Pandit?' asked James.
'Everyone's asleep, except the girl,' answered Rick. 'Her room's empty.'
'She's not here,' said James. 'That means she's wan-dered off.'
'She'll be all right,' said Rick.
'You don't know that. As the guide, you're responsible if she stubs her bloody toe. Maybe you should skip coffee and find her,' said James in a tone that made it clear it wasn't a suggestion. Rick sighed as he rose.
James understood the cause for the sigh, and said, 'That's the price we pay.'
'What price?'
'Being nursemaids. Serving high tea to rich twits. Put-ting up. It lets us live in the bush. Maybe it's a devil's bargain, but. . .' James looked about. 'I think it's worth it.'
'That's why you're here?' asked Rick.
'I grew up on the Serengeti when it was still wild,' replied James. 'It was fading even then, but the animals were real.' James paused, caught up in the memory. 'Li-ons. Elephants. Antelope. They were something to see. There's nothing as magnificent as a wild animal. God's creatures, they are. I stayed until they were completely gone . . . had to ... but even at its height, the Serengeti was nothing compared to this! This is Eden before the Fall! Perfect. Unspoiled.'
