'Sure. It's just. .. veil. . . sometimes what's best changes.'
'Now you've stepped in it!' said Joe jocularly, while flashing Rick a look that made him feel even dumber.
'And what do you mean by that?' asked Con.
'Just that genes that make you fat in times of plenty, help you survive in times of famine. It wouldn't do for everyone to get souped.'
Joe laughed. 'Small chance of
'For an individual, it's great,' said Rick. 'You'll prob-ably reach a hundred and look great doing it.' Con looked somewhat placated. 'Some people give me a hard time about it. I guess I'm a little touchy.'
'Sorry,' said Rick. 'I wasn't being critical.'
Con rose and began to wander along the edge of the sandbar. The tide was still going out, and the basking plesiosaurs had moved farther out with it. Rick noticed that she avoided the water. Suddenly, she yelled to them, 'You've got to see this!'
Joe and Rick walked over and looked where she was pointing. Half-buried in the sand, about fifteen feet from the shore, was an ammonite shell. It was easily three feet in diameter. Between waves, a portion of its smooth sur- face projected above the water. The shell's exterior was golden brown with veins of yellow, orange, and mahog- any, all overlaid with a pattern of irregular spots. The interior was deep purple shading into pink.
'Isn't it beautiful,' said Con.
Rick removed his sandals and waded out for a closer look.
'Don't!' cried out Con.
Rick scanned the clear water around the sandbar. 'I don't see anything to worry about.' He grabbed the edge of the shell and gave a tug. It moved slightly. 'It's stuck in the sand.' While Con watched nervously, he bent over and began scooping sand from around the shell with his hands. A passing wave thoroughly drenched his shirt-front. He kept digging, revealing more of the shell. It seemed to be in perfect condition. Rising again, he once more tugged at the shell. It budged a little. 'Joe, could you give me a hand?' Joe waded out and assisted Rick. Straining together, they were able to drag the shell a few inches.
'Damn, this is heavy!' said Joe.
'Probably all the chambers are filled with water,' said Rick.
Con, after some nervous hesitation, waded out, saying, 'I'll push while you two pull.' Rick was surprised she entered the water and more sur-prised by her strength. Together, the three muscled the shell onto the dry sand. By then, they were completely drenched.
'Too bad I don't have a bathing suit,' said Con. She turned to stare sharply at Rick. 'I will
'Not what?' asked Rick.
'Don't you know souped girls are telepathic?' Con said. She watched Rick flush red before she nearly fell over laughing. 'For someone who claims to be a scientist, you sure are gullible.' Rick blushed even more. Con grinned broadly at his embarrassment and pushed her point. 'Apparently, you're not as used to it as you claim.'
'Am I missing something here?' asked Joe.
'Just a private joke,' muttered Rick.
By maneuvering the shell about, they were able to drain much of the water from its inner chambers. Even-tually, it was light enough for them to lift and carry into the plane. They walked about to let the sun and wind dry their wet clothes before taking off to resume their travels.
They flew next to a spire of rock jutting two hundred feet above the sea. From a distance, Con thought the is-land was wreathed in swirling streamers of cloud, but as they came nearer, the 'clouds' proved to be masses of white pterosaurs. Taking advantage of the winds, they soared gracefully through the air like living kites, flap-ping their long, sickle-shaped wings only occasionally. The animals appeared to consist of large-beaked and crested heads, longish necks, and small, tailless bodies, supported by large, narrow wings. These wings resem-bled neither those of birds nor bats. They were comprised of a stiffened membrane stretched between the animal's arm and a single, greatly elongated, finger and the ani-mal's thigh. The smaller fliers had wingspans of nine feet, while others had wingspans of twenty-three and thirty feet. Rick pointed out the different kinds and named them, '
'What do they eat?' ask Con.
