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[right][hr][color=gray][b]September 15, 1995. [/b]
Pacific Ocean, 115 miles west of Costa Rica.[/color][hr][/right]
[indent][i]It’s only been three.[/i] Daniel sighed at the thought that yes, his mental clock was just off kilter from being stuck in a flying sardine can. “I’m just ready to rest my feet on solid ground for a few minutes.” He just wanted to be back in his small apartment in the states. He thought working for one of the biggest science magazines in publication would have been more [i]lucrative[/i] than what he was being paid. Sure he got to see the world, but he was living out of basically three cardboard boxes in a very unfurnished studio apartment in New York. It was no different than 1989 in Montana, actually. 

He’d spent the greater part of the summer running errands for his professor. They’d spent weeks working on a dig site in northern Montana. They’d even run across Jack Horner, and he spent nearly 30 minutes balancing a cardboard box full of materials listening to his professor and Dr. Horner talk on and on about their craft and new technologies being pioneered. His professor, Dr. Grant, had not been too enthralled about such things. He was old school in the worst sense, and he was not the kind of guy to be kind to his students. 

On balmy night in mid July, Daniel had sat on a bare stone, looking upwards at the sky. His professor had startled him. “You considering changing your major to astronomy?” 

“What? No sir. I just…” Alan was gruff. He had a gentle aura the more you got to know him, but he could catch you unaware and off guard easily. “It’s just something I love about these digs. Getting out of the city, away from the world. Just the team, the rocks and the bones.” 

Grant chuckled and patted Daniel on the shoulder, sitting down next to him. “You’ve been working under me for two months and I think that’s the first thing you’ve told me that wasn’t related to our work here.” He got quiet for a moment. “What do you want to do with paleontology?” 

“I-” Daniel sat there, dumbfounded for a moment. 

“Some just end up working for museums, curating the findings of others. Some write books about their own theories for the K/T extinction. And others dig. You already know what kind I am.” 

“I’m not really sure exactly [i]what[/i] I want to do with it. I just… enjoy it. Studying these creatures that existed millions of years between us. It’s amazing to just imagine what they could have actually been like.” 

“That’s our job.” The older man, already nearing his forties removed the hat from his head and placed it into his lap. “Just don’t expect to get rich or famous from it. If you’re not willing to sacrifice for it, you’re better off finding something else to do with your life. After all, there’s only so many bones for us to dig up out there.” 

The conversation changed him, but not in the way Dr. Grant had probably intended. He realized that ultimately, paleontology had a finite end, and with technology increasing and more protected sites being placed around the room, the areas to dig were shrinking and fast. He changed his major to Geology in the fall and ended up jumping on with New Scientist when he finished school. And it had led him here, in a small box. Only this time, he didn’t have the beauty of the night sky to stare up to at night. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the buzzing sound of the airplane’s intercom shook Daniel out of his daydream, “we’re in the middle of a pretty bad storm right now. For your safety, I suggest everyone buckle your seats as it might get a little bump-” an explosion rocked the plane and Daniel in his seat. Lightning had struck the plane, but where? And how? Fear, and the need to understand took over and Daniel unlatched the cloth cover for his window and saw his worst fear: the left wing of the plane was now emblazoned in fire. Even worse, he looked out to a sea of black. No land, no roads, no nothing. Right now they should be near Panama, but...all he saw was endless ocean. “This…” Daniel moaned in a deep fearful gasp, “This can’t be happening!” 

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