Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by RantosaurusRex »

Sorry to bump an old topic, but it appears the link to the script is broken. I click on the link and I'm led to a 404 page. I don't know if it's just me or if it's broken for everyone.
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by scallenger »

You can now download the script from the Jurassic Time site in the "Resources" section.

http://jurassictime.trescom.org
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by Draconisaurus »

I want to point out that the Original Hammond Script - featured in the news and originally located here - is now missing from the site. Or at least, it's not where it used to be. Can someone point me to it, or reupload it and update the link in the news post?
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by Hilwo »

You can grab it at Scal's website here :wink:
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by Draconisaurus »

Ahaaaa, thank you! Still think the news post should be updated somehow.
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by Draconisaurus »

Alright, so! I've gone ahead and typed up all Hammond's lines from this script into TXT format. They are organized in the same way as found in the PDF. This ought to make it faster to location certain lines for reference or w/e.

https://www.mediafire.com/file/i2gaqpku ... t.txt/file
Spoiler: show

Code: Select all

-- TRESPASSER: JURASSIC PARK --
-- SCRIPT: HAMMOND --

[INTRODUCTION]

----
By 1989, International Genetic Technologies had succeeded in their design, to genetically recreate the dinosaurs. It was an unprecedented accomplishment, the pinnacle of 20th-centery science, a work to rank with the achievements of Galileo, or Einsten

But it was not all so easy or so simple as it appeared. One seldom hears the true history of such events - what happened at the place where the world changed. How it began, what were the reasons, what was the cost.
----

[MYSTERY]

----
My name is John Parker Hammond. I was born on March 14, 1928.
----

----
What follows is a record of certain events in which I took part, between the years 1980 and 1997, on an island I will call Site B.
----

----
Site B was not to be a theme park, but a research station. This was where we did the real work.
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---
...the greatest discovery of the 20th century...
----

----
Sooner or later, someone will come -- Biosyn or American intelligence, or some godforsaken treasure hunter. Our research data have become unthinkably valuable.
----

----
A Nobel Prize, or a financial empire awaits somewhere in a darkened room, in a dirty derelict building somewhere in the Pacific.
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----
A forest this wild, this unknown, has not been seen by any human since the great hunters of the early Pliocene.
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----
I can picture them moving cautiously through the dusty rooms in bulky biohazard gear, clutching rifles, poring over our records, reading our files.
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----
Our computers are obsolete, and our network links are down. If they want it, they will have to come for it. But I believe it is too well hidden, and in far too dangerous a place.
----

----
The mysterious John Hammond - shady investor, multimillionaire, jovial mad scientist.
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----
The technology, the real trick of it is still in there. In a darkened room, in an empty building with a dirty floor, it waits. The flashpoint, the origin of Jurassic park.
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----
The lab I showed them in Jurassic Park was too good to be true. I had to do the dirty work elsewhere.
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----
The main laboratory and administrative buildings. This was where we made our discovery, where the real magic trick happened. When they come to dig up our secrets, they will come here.
----

----
This was to be the center of my empire, a gigantic spidery lattice of money, science, and shadowy agreements.
----

[THE STORY OF INGEN]

----
An idea brought me awake one morning in New York. I almost didn't write it down
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----
It was 1979, and the biotech industry was just beginning to boom. Genetech and Biosuyn were making hundreds of millions.
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----
I took my idea to two Standford geneticists, Normal Atherton and Henry Wu. Normal was tops in the field, a man of my generation; Henry, his protégé.
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Sunlight angled down through the dusty air of Norman's office. I leaned against a solid oak table as I outlined my plans for International Genetic Technologies.
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----
[Object with Japanese writing]
-
I met with a group of Japanese investors, Hamaguri and Densaka. In nthe end, only the Japanese had the patience for my 8-year plan.
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----
It was the flowering of an ambition born 50 years ago - 50 years of struggle come to this.
----

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In early 1980 I surveyed a number of small islands in the Caribbean and Pacific. As I peered from the window of a survey plane, Isla Sorna came into view, untouched since the Spanish Colonial era.
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----
Isla Sorna. Costa Rica lay to the east, a quiet neighbor. To the west, open water and the shipping lanes of the Pacific.
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The southern beach looked out over trackless ocean. Down past Peru, all the way to Antarctica.
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A few weeks after we first landed, we went to the summit to put up a crude satellite link.
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We went up by helicopter. Young technicians scrambled to set up the dish as the wind howled. High-speed uplink...state of the art.
----

----
If we succeeded, the InGen technology would be historic. We were planning to conquer time's power over life, its power to extinguish and erase. It would change all of our lives, as profoundly, as irrevocably as the atomic bomb.
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We built our main buildings inland, to hide the extent of our operation.
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----
We began the secondary roads and walls. From our first encampment, the complex spread out in great circles or waves.
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----
The first trees fell. Meter by meter, we pushed our way through the jungle.
---

---
1982. Robert Muldoon I already knew. Dennis Nedry, I found in Cambridge - despite his idiosyncracies, he was years ahead of his competition.
---

---
Dennis fancied himself quite the hacker. He had his own locks for his door. His office decorations were quite outside company regulations
---

---
Henry Wu was an only child, from Ohio. A prodigy, he gained early attention for his undergraduate thesis at MIT.
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---
3 Cray-XMP's moved more data, faster, than any computer center in the Americas.
---

---
In 11 months, Site B became the most powerful genetics facility in the world.
---

---
In a quiet, locked room, the extinction of species, the history of life on earth was being methodically reversed.
---

---
The first task was genetic recovery -- acquiring Jurassic or Cretaceous amber, extracting preserved DNA, and reassembling the completed sequences. "Bringing it up the well," we called it.
---

---
Jurassic DNA is rather thin on the ground in our times - and in 1980 there was no way to be sure it existed at all.
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---
I spared no expense, permitted no failures.
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My agents brought insect-bearing amber from the shores of the Baltic Sea, from African bazaars, from museums in Warsaw and Leningrad, even New Jersey.
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---
By 1983 we held 13 new patents.
---

---I began to have the first inkling of the seriousness of our work - how deep the well was. This was life from 65 or 100 million years before mankind.
---

---
By the end of the second year, there was a buzz, a tiny buzz in the highest academic circles. No definite word, nothing published. But they knew something was happening.
---

---
November 1983. Test fertilization of an artificial ovum. My hands shook as I held the tiny eye dropper. One drop, two drops. There! The genie was out of the bottle.
---

---
We had gone beyond CalTech, beyond Stanford or Princeton. There was no precedent, no reference point in the field.
---

---
The raptor took shape inside its egg. I watched it on the ultrasound monitor. It looked like a ghost, or a puff of smoke.
---

---
1986. The first dinosaur to prove viable in the modern age was a small albertosaur, revision three-oh-eight. It had behavioral quirks, and a chronic skin infection, but it lived.
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Dinosaurs do not thrive in captivity. They grow vicious and stop eating, pacing their cages. We had no choice butg to release them into the wild.
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---
We released the first raptor on April 22, 1985. It wandered back and forth near the wall for four minutes and twenty-two seconds, before hearing a noise which drew it further off into the brush.
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Our preparations were exhaustive: concrete moats; seismic sensors; 24-hour guard; electrical fencing, video monitors...
---

---
In the jungle, the forest, and the mountain three raptor tribes staked out territory. Albertosaurs and the seven T-rexes chose their dominions. Uneasy borders drawn around forests, ridges, and ponds.
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---
Not all the original species survived. In the end, only a few adjusted to the new world. These became dominant.
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A third tribe of raptors took the mountain for their territory. A leaner, tougher breed, quick, living on birds and tiny lizards.
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We tagged the most dangerous animals with radio collars that transmitted a warning signal. Workmen carried little boxes that played a tone when a tagged animal came near...at which point they would panic and flee in terror.
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I fired one, twice, thrice. The raptor trashed in the dust.
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By 1987, the first of them had reached full size. The ecosystem of another era began to reassert itself.
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1988. The raptor watched me through the reinforced glass of the holding room. This was the alpha female. It seemed to know me. Its partner in a nameless, endless, conflict.
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The raptor padded in towards sundown. It drank nervously, careful of the dangers of the Jurassic waterhole.
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Several hours later, we discovered that it had come in through the sewage pipes.
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When the alarm sounded, workers threw down their tools and fled. Muldoon went into the field to investigate.
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For four months we had monitored it while it preyed on herds in the southern forest. We never knew why it grew so large. In the summer of 1988 it began moving north.
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We retreated, landing by landing. Robert stood at the third level, coolly aiming and firing.
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The workmen sweated and complained in the sun. Armed guards stood round, pacing warily, and we drove the road south.
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1988. Workers from the mainland were pouring concrete supports, for a rail system running north to the settlement.
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May 1989. We began laying foundations on the south beach for a hotel for visiting scientists and businessmen. A year hence, I thought, the island would be quite famous.
---

---
Bankruptcy! I leaned against the wall. My whole body shook.
---

---
I dropped the mug. It shattered. I let it lie there. We would be leaving soon.
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When it became known that I was bankrupt, workers simply dropped their tools and walked away.
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Economics. The bankruptcy struck Site B with more force than the hurricane.
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Buildings were stripped of anything valuable.
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We sealed off the town, save for a few crucial gates -- southward to the lowlands, eastward to the power plant and laboratory.
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Later that day we closed the Eastern gate permanently. I retained a passcode, of course, and left it in a hidden place.
---

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The last of the worker team came in, and we rushed to shut the gate behind them.
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We sealed the Eastern Gate for the last time. Gazing from my study window, I hit on a simple mnemonic for the passcode. Like Nedry, I felt I needed to keep a back door open.
---

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We drove east with a heavy escort, in a light rain -- no one felt safe in on the plains any more.
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As we left we vandalized our own locking mechanisms. InGen tolerates no trespassers.
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Technicians and workmen crowded the docks, fearing they might be left behind when the security ring collapsed. Armed guards stood watch.
---

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Two German technicians were accused of conspiring to walk out with crucial research materials.
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David Graff and Hans Tubke were caught at midnight by the waterfront. In the hysteria of the final days, they were nearly shot.
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They had planned to breach the main computer vault and remove some of the data stored there. No proof was ever found.
---

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Fortunately the Bowmans settled out of court, but the damage had been done.
---

---
October, 1996. The InGen corporation is taken out of my hands, by a vote of the board of directors. My nephew dispatches his team.
---

---
The hunters landed on May 13, 1997, deep in the island's southwest. Most of them had worked at my african parks for years. They never stood a chance.
---

---
The InGen hunting party carried the passcodes for our perimeter fences.
---

---
The hunters scattered, their prearranged hunting routes forgotten. Only a third of their number appeared at the rendezvous.
---

[HUSHED, QUICK MOMENTS OF INTENSE SENSORY DETAIL]

---
A sea like glass...
---

---
In May the rains began. The smell of the jungle was everywhere.
---

---
As I journeyed south along the coast, the air grew moist and heavy. Metal and concrete lay rotting in the sun and rain.
---

---
1981. I stumbled out of the helicopter, already beginning to sweat, and looked around at the lush forest, the wet leaves.
---

---
I stood on the lip of the cliff, the wind blowing my hair. It might have been a morning in the early Jurassic.
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---
The jungle canopy hung over us. There was an utter silence. Far away I could hear a jeep engine idling.
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A clap of thunder -- ancient predators looked up to see dust rising from a dynamite explosion.
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In the winter we began building the supports for an elevated transit system that would unify the island. Concrete towers rose through the jungle canopy.
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---
The sky at noon was like nothing in Europe. Hot, tropical, a new world.
---

---
The forest smelled of wet leaves, damp earth, rotting wood.
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---
Water seeped into everything.
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As I write this, tiles are cracking, smeared with windblown dirt and animal tracks. Thick tree roots are pushing up through asphalt. The island settles itself, beginning to erase all trace of us...
---

---
Waking to the smell of the jungle, the distant call of an apatosaur.
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---
On the plain the heat was extraordinary, like a solid wall.
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---
When I was little I dreamed of a time when the entire world was covered by an ancient first-growth forest. Great hunters stalked in the cool darkness, among silent, huge columnar trees - oaks, and sequoias.
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---
I stepped out of the jeep and stretched my legs. The two guards attended to the wheel, and just for an instant I stood alone, unprotected in the Jurassic wilderness. I felt the air currents around me, heard a single tree rustle.
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The party took shelter in the shade, by a still pool under a rock cliff. We had been hiking most of the day.
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...cameras, and seismic instruments in yellow crates. They set them in the dust as the helicopters rose.
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The steam pipes hissed and spat. Water pumped deep into the earth came back superheated.
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Chinese sailors singing in a curious keening falsetto as they unloaded the synthetic polymer eggs.
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---
...the smells of salt water and gasoline.
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Far out to sea we would sometimes glimpse the US Coast Guard units assigned to observe our activity.
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He focused on the distant raptor, sighted down the barrel with his clear, perfect eye.
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---
I would often walk out on the piers when we received shipments. The mingled languages, the salt of the sea air, the burnt-oil smell of industry...
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---
It was strange to move from the field, the hot sun, dirt on one's trouser-cuffs, into the cool, sterile darkness of the lab.
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On my last visit the iron was beginning to rust, and part of the stairway had cracked and fallen away.
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The sharp tang of the preservative chemicals. The coolness and hush of the sterile chamber. The daily ritual of decontamination.
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The centrifuge whirred night and day. The slow alchemy of genetic replication.
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The clear fluid held a cloudy layer of DNA strands.
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The tiny amber jewel held an ancient world.
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The scientists fascinated me - each working alone in the night, seeming to seek some central revelation. Acolytes of a strange, lonely, futile passion.
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Keyboards rattled into the early morning. Ranks of green CRT screens displayed collated genetic data.
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Dennis was playing a dungeon game of his own devising, running it at fantastic speed on our network. Walking corridors sketched in lines of light, stealing treasures from ancient kings.
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We worked long into the night. Feeling at times as if the whole of the earth had fallen away outside, leaving only the darkness, the work, the endless questing into the past.
---

[HAMMOND AS TOUR GUIDE]

---
Two old stone pillars, with a cryptic monogram. We opted to let them stand.
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A failed coffee plantation of the 1860's. Fields were marked out by stone walls. To the west, the ruins of the plantation house still stand.
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We took a shortcut south to reach the site -- west along the stream, until a tall tree shows itself, with a cluster of boulders at its base.
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Then walk northward, until the path appears.
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Workers smuggled in weapons for their own protection.
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The power station was situated on the western coast, residences were southeast and inland.
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Some of my personal papers had been transferred to diskette.
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Requisitions for laboratory supplies; personnel uniforms; amber samples; prefabricated housing; trucks; kilometers of fencing...
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In the plains to the northeast, we cultivated a different style of ecosystem.
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The Albertosaurs took to the open fields like lions to the Serengeti.
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The battery would last at least 20 years and wear like iron.
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The pylons ran for kilometers, one every hundred meters or so. I built them to last. Running east from the plant, they climbed the valley, before descending south into the plains.
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A tank of greenish water, tinted by an algae-killing chemical, was filled from a pump in the valley, some ways away.
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The main harbor for Site B.
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The docks were the lifeblood of Site B. Amber, synthetic eggshell, and livestock came from all over the Pacific Rim.
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The US watches its imports and exports too carefully for my purposes. We dealt mainly with China and Russia, trading on the grey market.
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The "Emily" was a tug for bringing in the bigger freighters. Occasionally we took it out to observe specimens from offshore, or to sweep the tide for traces of our operation.
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It was scuttled in 1989, as a quarantine measure soon after I gave the government my testimony.
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InGen Standard Safari Vehicle. State of the art.
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Lindstradt air guns, by the way. Swedish-made. Unbeatable for accuracy and rate of fire.
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InGen Reception. I had planned that someday visitors - scientists and politicians - would be welcomed here.
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The Hamachi-Hood gene sequencers were fat boxes in dirty white casings, terribly heavy and damnably expensive.
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Site B was fully centralized and computer-controlled. The same design that became the Achilles heel of Jurassic Park.
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Diagnostics, communications, security all ran through the computer. Accordingly, computer security was paramount, the tightest on the island.
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Left to itself, the facility reverts to minimal power -- chiefly battery-powered security systems. It can sustain itself almost indefinitely.
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A few days after the landing, Robert and I hiked south through the jungle. Over the years, the summer rains had carved deep channels in the volcanic rock.
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Site B was not a zoo, like Jurassic Park. It was more of a colony in a dangerous wilderness. Our buildings were outposts in another era.
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The residential protective wall was a Site B institution. As it was under constant observation, it was a prized target for graffiti artists.
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The third dam in a planned system of five, which would have regulated the flow of water throughout the island. The only one ever built.
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Building the town was hard. Costa Rican contractors were competent people, but they had to be transported, fed, housed, and afterwards, bound to silence.
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The biotechnicians were compensated for living in exile. High pay, luxury housing. Dennis wanted computer time, and money; Henry wanted his state of the art entertainments. These were the elite, who could have gone anywhere to work. I had to keep them here.
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Once the island was made known to the world, it would be a permanent settlement, perhaps even a sovereign island.
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The security officers formed their own social group, swapping war stories and discussing reaction speeds.
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A passcode let us control access to the valley and the power station beyond.
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Curving up out of the southern basin, the Atherton Causeway would bring visiting scientists north from the southern beach.
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The mountaintop uplink was vital to our operations. To maintain it, we blasted a road winding clockwise up the eastern face.
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We shared the island with the crumbling remains of a vanished Mayan splinter civilization.
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The buildings followed a scheme I only vaguely understood, marking the seasons, the lunar year, and the movements of the stars...
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Oddly, an inscription read, "...and there they will raise the temple of the moon, and its roots shall know the depths of time..."
---

[HUNTER LIST]

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A mere lad from Ontario, where he had enjoyed some success controlling wildlife overpopulation in the national parks. He was out of his element on Isla Sorna.
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An ex-policeman from South Africa, a sort of soldier-of-fortune character.
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Known as "The Maharajah" to his fellows, highly skilled by only works alone. He was meant to radio for pickup from the comm station.
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I was unable to find any records whatsoever on Michael Sullivan, beyond the sole fact that his flight to the rendezvous originated in Port-au-Prince, Haiti.
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LaSalle was a desciple of Roland's. A sometime poacher, fancied himself a master hunter.
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Marden, A. S.: still missing.
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Karamcheti, V.: still missing.
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Sullivan, R. M.: still missing.
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LaSalle, P.: still missing.
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Van Horn, S. T.: still missing.
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Lystrata, A. L.: deceased.
---

[DINOSAUR LIST]

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Albertosaur. A loner, fast and strong, eking out a living between the seven Tyrannosaur and the three raptor tribes.
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Gallimimus, "chicken-mimic." Fastest runner on the island, an eater of insects, eggs, and small mammals.
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Velociraptor, a small theropod. Native to China and Mongolia. Pack-hunter, quite vicious, and quite intelligent.
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The fossil record shows raptors living like wolves or lions, hunting in groups. Ours did the same - perhaps a genetically coded social trait.
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Brachiosaur - oldest of our re-creations by 50 million years. The only true Jurassic native.
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One of the largest creatures ever to live, the brachiosaur moved like planets among the smaller species.
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Tyrannosaurus Rex. Tyrant lizard, they reigned for 25 million years. We grew 7 of them, the 7 rulers of the island.
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Despite what we had been led to believe, the T-rex was not a scavenger after all. We clocked one at 50 kilometers an hour.
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Triceratops. Wtih the Tyrannosaur, one of the last dinosaurs to live naturally on our planet.
---

[HUSHED AWE]

---
It was in the last days of genetic recovery, and at this point nothing was certain. Was the DNA there? Could we bring it back, up the well?
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---
It was 3AM. The room was strewn with soda cans. For the hundredth time we ran the extraction sequence.
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---
Dennis? What are we looking at here?
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---
All my life I had waited for something great, something extraordinary.
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---
And right then it opened up. The code read true. The barrier of time was, for an instant, opened. Nedry and I stared into the monitor, straight back through 65 thousand centuries.
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---
As Nedry typed, the world seemed to hold its breath. For a moment we stood at the turning point between two great planetary eras - the million-year reign of man, and the age of the dinosaurs.
---

[DIARY ENTRIES]

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She would not answer me at first. I asked her again.
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Lord Darley's charity luncheon, a society event, £200 a ticket. A bit of a step up for me, socially. I was seated with a very pleasant young woman.
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I would gaze at her, at dinner parties, in moments when she was distracted.
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The hair on her upper lip. The way she exhaled the smoke from her cigarette.
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I stammered, I was not certain what I should say. She laughed, though, and seemed charmed. She asked me to call again tomorrow.
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At two AM I called once again. She had still not come home, nor did they know where she was. I didn't leave my name.
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Save that...in her voice or her walk, there was a world of grace and sophistication that I knew I was forever barred from.
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I gave myself over to the strange, lonely discipline of the market -- investment strategies and profit. I stood apart, master of codes and lost worlds, of heat and cold and the sleep of a hundred million years.
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My work lies where I left it, if there is anyone brave enough and clever enough to take it and return - the keys to time, perhaps the foundation of a new empire.
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---
On the last day, I stood apart from the rest of them. The helicopters were setting down.

Before me the jungle spread out, and I saw that a savage, primal age had begun again.
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Come on, son. Get us out of here.
---

[THE PAST]

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In school they showed me a picture of a swamp, with giant lizards fighting. They said, "This is the way the world once was, long ago."
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I left home at 15, with the rather romantic idea of seeking my fortune. I remember the train ride south, in my best clothes, eating an apple. The entire world before me.
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When I came to London I had neither fortune nor education nor connections. Nothing!
---

[MUSINGS]

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A "Lost World" is a sort of scientific myth. An evolutionary scenario in which an ecosystem is isolated and preserved. The rest of the world changes, leaving a tiny, fragile pocket where ancient species survive.
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American-made tranquilizer darts. The effects change with the target's body mass, temperament, and mood. I believe the phrase is, "Results may vary."
---

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Who had decided to build a plantation on this lonely island, so far out to sea? What were the circumstances of their departure? We were never to find any answers. It is a chilling thought that someday the same questions will be asked about our town, our lab, our power station.
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Creation is an act of sheer will. Next time, it'll be flawless!
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Occasionally we brought a specimen in for observation. I regret to say a sort of dinosaur rodeo would often develop.
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Never again.
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Doctor Wu's laboratory was a mystery to me. I never finished my schooling -- I had a child's idea of science. Test tubes, explosions, and miracles.
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At first it was only an affectation, a plaything. I hardly expected to be involved in gunplay.
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For some reason no one has ever explained to me, the Jurassic and Cretaceous periods bred a surplus of large, aggressive carnivores. By '88, the flat land east of the town was a veritable Olympic Games of predation.
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Hunting dinosaurs is quite tricky business. I recommend helicopters, if you've got them.
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Muldoon did some ground hunting by jeep. Even with military hardware, it was a messy enterprise.
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A T-Rex wins against anything except a brachiosaur, or several triceratops, or a good jeep on a good road.
---

---
Mankind is no match for the dinosaur. To be caught out alone on the plains -- no one survives that.
---

---
We were neither the only covert business to thrive in Central America, nor the most dangerous.
---

---
I picture the Americans searching for our wreckage. Awash with that particular feeling that comes from a ruin. The physical remnant of a lost world.
---

---
The raptor preened itself, utterly confident of its right to be tehre. Absolutely no consciousness that it was not the sovereign ruler of this earth.
---

---
They saw the first mornings of the world, and lived through the closing of the first great age.
---

---
I had an odd dream, of a mighty wizard who lived his life alone.
---

---
What if a mosquito sucked the blood of a dinosaur, one hundred million years ago. The insect is then covered in tree sap which, over the millenia, becomes amber.
---

---
The insect is preserved, perfectly. But -- you see, here's the clever part -- wouldn't the dinosaur blood be preserved as well?
---

---
The blood holds DNA, a tiny spiral of genetic code. Abra cadabra!
---

---
I still believe Nedry left himself a backdoor -- something about the hobbits or god knows what.
---

---
Understand, we were attempting to read a code far older than humanity itself.
---

---
The darkness of the laboratory at night seemed like home to me. The intricate structure of the DNA, the interplay of markets and corporate holdings, the pixels on a computer monitor. It is something one can become lost in.
---

---
We must all of us be conscious that we are creating the future. We will be remembered for this forever.
---

[GREENWOOD]

---
I first met Harold Greenwood in 1992. He was an American, introduced to me as a former Green Beret. He asked a number of questions about the disposition of the InGen Technology.
---

---
Harry claimed to be a friend of my former son-in-law. I liked him -- he was confident, dashing.
---

---
Sources say Harry later attempted to penetrate to the interior of the island. His plan was to reactivate the geothermal plant, then to gain access to protected data at the main lab.
---

---
Greenwood carried some sort of electronic device, which we are told he built himself, based on plans he found on the Internet.
---

---
A background check on Harry Greenwood revealed nothing out of the ordinary: a community college education, a gun permit.
---

---
Some effort was made to track Mr. Greenwood, but we never discovered what happened to him.
---

---
He thought he would be a hero, an explorer, a Lawrence of Arabia braving danger. He did not understand what danger really is, how easily and unexpectedly death can come.
---

[READ ALOUD]

---
In Greek myth, Daedalus was a master artificer. The king of Crete commissioned from him a great labyrinth. Daedalus labored for 10 years to produce this thing. It was so bewildering that one could not take a single step inside without losing one's way. Having built the maze, Daedalus himself became entrapped within it.
---

---
Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said - "two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert.... Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings,
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away."
---

---
"And thorns shall come up in her palaces, nettles and brambles in the fortresses thereof: and it shall be an habitation of dragons . . ."
Isaiah 34:13
---

---
Adenine. Cytosine. Thymine. Guanine. Uracil.
---
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by TheIdiot »

Very useful, Drac. Will save that for later.

One thing I always find funny about the way Hammond talks in Tres (even moreso in the script - interesting that he mentions Biosyn, would he have known they were a competitor before the events of Jurassic Park, and did he ever find out whether it was them who were responsible for Nedry's theft?) is how he seems to think the island is simply so dangerous and everything is so well-hidden that nobody could ever find it for any reason. He...did see what happened TLW, right? InGen sort of just stormed in and were pretty much 100% fine until Vince Vaughan decided to ruin everyone's day - the dinosaurs were a bit of a pushover until that point. And it seems like it isn't really that hard to get into the labs considering a single inexperienced injured woman in a tank top did it! :P
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by Draconisaurus »

Right, I noticed that "they'll never make it" voiceover. At the same time he says he can picture them in bulky biohazard gear pouring over files. I'm not sure what to make of it except that he has different opinions, perhaps depending on his mood.
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by machf »

What an odd thing to do...
Visit The Carnivores Saga - a forum devoted to modding Action Forms' Carnivores, Carnivores 2 and Carnivores: Ice Age games
Tres WIP: updated T-Script Reference and File Formats documents
Sound name listings for the Demo (build 117), Retail (build 116), Beta 103, Beta 99, Beta 97, Beta 96, Build 55, PC Gamer Alpha (build 32) and E3 1998 Alpha (build 22) TPA files
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by Hilwo »

Draconisaurus wrote:Right, I noticed that "they'll never make it" voiceover. At the same time he says he can picture them in bulky biohazard gear pouring over files. I'm not sure what to make of it except that he has different opinions, perhaps depending on his mood.
I don't remember a "they'll never make it" line, or do you mean the one in which "They never stood a chance"? If so, that was said in retrospect and would still make sense to me.
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by Draconisaurus »

Ah I meant the implication of the one or more Hammond Script voiceovers in which Hammond doubts anyone could survive his island etc.
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by TheIdiot »

machf wrote:What an odd thing to do...
I think Draco did it for the sake of simplicity. I'll still use the spreadsheets as often I find myself using those "obscure" sounds that aren't listed here. I do find it useful to have quick access to the SoundMaterial list in .txt format (Excel loads very slowly on my PC for some reason), however.
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by Hilwo »

Draconisaurus wrote:Ah I meant the implication of the one or more Hammond Script voiceovers in which Hammond doubts anyone could survive his island etc.
Ah, I see :)
machf wrote:What an odd thing to do...
Isn't that kind of mandatory here? :razz:
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by Draconisaurus »

Hilwo wrote:
machf wrote:What an odd thing to do...
Isn't that kind of mandatory here? :razz:
Here, here!
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Re: Trespasser Original Hammond Script RELEASED!

Post by MinePass »

A text version of Hammond's original script... rarely have I ever hit download so fast. Much thanks Drac, definitely something we all needed.
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