Control

In the night, the compys scurried along the side of the road. Harding's Jeep followed a short distance behind. Ellie pointed farther up the road. "Is that a light?"

"Could be," Harding said. "Looks almost like headlights."

The radio suddenly bummed and crackled. They heard John Arnold say,

"-you there?"

"Ah, there he is," Harding said. "Finally." He pressed the button. "Yes, John, we're here. We're near the river, following the compys. It's quite interesting."

More crackling. Then: "-eed your car-"

"What'd he say?" Gennaro said.

"Something about a car," Ellie said. At Grant's dig in Montana, Ellie was the one who operated the radiophone. After years of experience, she had become skilled at picking up garbled transmissions. "I think he said he needs your car."

Harding pressed the button. "John? Are you there? We can't read you very well. John?"

There was a flash of lightning, followed by a long sizzle of radio static, then Arnold's tense voice, "-where are-ou-"

"We're one mile north of the hypsy paddock. Near the river, following some compys."

"No-damn well-get back here-ow!"

"Sounds like he's got a problem," Ellie said, frowning. There was no mistaking the tension in the voice. "Maybe we should go back."

Harding shrugged. "John's frequently got a problem. You know how engineers are. They want everything to go by the book." He pressed the button on the radio. "John? Say again, please…"

More crackling.

More static. The loud crash of lightning. Then: "-Muldoo-need your car-ow-"

Gennaro frowned. "Is he saying Muldoon needs our car?"

"That's what it sounded like," Ellie said.

"Well, that doesn't make any sense," Harding said.

"-other-stuck-Muldoon wants-car-"

"I get it," Ellie said. "The other cars are stuck on the road in the storm, and Muldoon wants to go get them."

Harding shrugged. "Why doesn't Muldoon take the other car?" He pushed the radio button. "John? Tell Muldoon to take the other car. It's in the garage."

The radio crackled. "-not-listen-crazy bastards-car-"

Harding pressed the radio button. "I said, it's in the garage, John. The car is in the garage."

More static. "-edry has-ssing-one-"

"I'm afraid this isn't getting us anywhere," Harding said. "All right, John. We're coming in now." He turned the radio off, and turned the car around. "I just wish I understood what the urgency is."

Harding put the Jeep in gear, and they rumbled down the road in the darkness. It was another ten minutes before they saw the welcoming lights of the Safari Lodge. And as Harding pulled to a stop in front of the visitor center, they saw Muldoon coming toward them. He was shouting, and waving his arms.

"God damn it, Arnold, you son of a bitch! God damn it, get this park back on track! Now! Get my grandkids back here! Now!" John Hammond stood in the control room, screaming and stamping his little feet. He had been carrying on this way for the last two minutes, while Henry Wu stood in the corner, looking stunned.

"Well, Mr. Hammond," Arnold said, "Muldoon's on his way out right now, to do exactly that." Arnold turned away, and lit another cigarette. Hammond was like every other management guy Arnold had ever seen. Whether it was Disney or the Navy, management guys always behaved the same. They never understood the technical issues; and they thought that screaming was the way to make things happen. And maybe it was, if you were shouting at your secretaries to get you a limousine.

But screaming didn't make any difference at all to the problems that Arnold now faced. The computer didn't care if it was screamed at. The power network didn't care if it was screamed at. Technical systems were completely indifferent to all this explosive human emotion. If anything, screaming was counterproductive, because Arnold now faced the virtual certainty that Nedry wasn't coming back, which meant that Arnold himself had to go into the computer code and try and figure out what had gone wrong. It was going to be a painstaking job, he'd need to be calm and careful.

"Why don't you go downstairs to the cafeteria," Arnold said, "and get a cup of coffee? We'll call you when we have more news."

"I don't want a Malcolm Effect here," Hammond said.

"Don't worry about a Malcolm Effect," Arnold said. "Will you let me go to work?"

"God damn you," Hammond said.

"I'll call you, sir, when I have news from Muldoon," Arnold said.

He pushed buttons on his console, and saw the familiar control screens change.

*/Jurassic Park Main Modules/

*/

*/ Call Libs

Include: biostat.sys

Include: sysrom.vst

Include: net.sys

Include: pwr.mdl

*/

*/Initialize

SetMain [42]2002/9Atotal CoreSysop %4 [vig. 7*tty]

if ValidMeter(mH) (**mH).MeterViS return

Term Call 909 c.lev void MeterVis $303 Random(3#*MaxFid)

on SetSystem(!Dn) set shp_val.obi to lim(ValdSumVal

if SetMeter(mH) (**mH).ValdidMeter(Vdd) return

on SetSystem(!Telcom) set mxcpl.obj to lim(ValpdlNextVal

Arnold was no longer operating the computer. He had now gone behind the scenes to look at the code-the line-by-line instructions that told the computer how to behave. Arnold was unhappily aware that the complete Jurassic Park program contained more than half a million lines of code, most of it undocumented, without explanation.

Wu came forward. "What are you doing, John?"

"Checking the code."

"By inspection? That'll take forever."

"Tell me," Arnold said. "Tell me."