"NO," came the firm response of Dr. Malcolm, a bald, dark-skinned man of average height and build. He rushed across the narrow, white halls with so much pissed off rage in his eyes that it almost looked like the anger was about to burst through his glasses. And the red head nagging behind him wasn't helping the mood in the slightest.

Claire strutted as fast as she could to keep up with the man. The sounds of her high heels clashing against the floor bounded across the halls. "I'm afraid your position here doesn't leave room for arguments, especially towards me," Claire responded with equal firmness.

Dr. Malcolm kept his glare at the empty hall in front of him. "Yeah, my POSITION here is recording data on our dinosaurs, NOT playing babysitter to... whatever the hell your mad scientists cooked up in those labs."

"The Indominus Rex," Claire pointed out.

Dr. Malcolm stopped and turned around; confusion briefly replaced the anger over his eyes. "The Indomiwhat?"

"The IndomiNUS Rex," Claire corrected in a tone of annoyance.

"Whatever," he snorted back and resumed to speed walking down the hall. "What you're asking me to do is beyond my field of expertise."

Claire huffed. "Not exactly accurate."

She rushed past the man and stopped in front of him. Her steely gaze that refused to take anymore shit from him halted his tracks. "I took a look through your records. Years before you applied for InGen, you worked at a Daycare for young kids."

He crossed his arms. "Yeah, I've worked with kids before. HUMAN kids. You know, the kind that won't rip off my face by the time their teeth start growing. And why are you even asking me? Why don't you try hiring that guy working with the velociraptors? That Grady guy?"

Dr. Malcolm saw rage flash in her usually cold, calm eyes before she buried it in an even colder glare. "I deemed Mr. Grady. . . lacking in the qualities necessary for this particular asset. I need someone experienced in handling with kids. You have those things back home, don't you?"

"Children?"

"Yes, exactly."

"I do have a couple back home."

"And just like that you're more qualified than half the people on this island," she assured him with a cold smile.

"And I'm even more qualified to say no," he shot back and walked past her.

Claire's usual, calm demeanor was crumbling with frustration. She knew Dr. Malcolm to be one of the more defiant employees of InGen. She thought she could handle it, but he really was testing her patience. It was almost like she was having another one of her daily disputes with Mr. Grady.

"Fine. What do you want?"

Dr. Malcolm froze. He turned back to face her. "What did you say?"

Claire hadn't moved a single inch from her spot. "What. Do. You. WANT?"

"You know it's really weird to have someone like you combine those four words into a sentence."

Nothing but silence and a murderous stare was her response.

Dr. Malcolm chuckled. "Triple my paycheck."

"Done."

"AND V.I.P access to all the park's rides and attractions."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he quickly added, "And access to free food from every food court in the park. No more of that low-budget slop you feed us employees at the cafeteria."

Claire said nothing this time, but that pissed off look on her face was all that Dr. Malcolm needed to know that she agreed to his terms.

"Follow me and I'll brief you on your job."

He rolled his eyes. "You better make it brief."

Her response was silence again. Claire turned around and walked down the hall with Dr. Malcolm following close behind.

"The asset that will be in your care is a prototype to the Indominus Rex, a new attraction created by mixing the genes of a T. Rex, velociraptor, and. . ." Claire managed to stop herself before speaking further.

"And?" Dr. Malcolm asked, confusion and worry laced in his voice.

Claire suddenly held her head up higher as if she were balancing her superiority complex through the tip of her nose. "I'm sorry Dr. Malcolm, but I just remembered that your payrate makes the rest classified information."

Dr. Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Great."

A couple of scientists dressed in pristine white lab coats, passed by. There was a giddy excitement in their voices as they talked about the "next batch of dinosaurs" before he and Claire turned at a corner and left earshot.

"And why does InGen think hiring someone like me to play babysitter to a thing like that is a good idea?"

"Dr. Henry Wu has requested that the prototype be closely monitored for any. . . unintentional defects before he resumes work on the final product."

Another man in a lab coat came by. He was pushing a cart filled with small, glass vials each filled with a blue liquid. Names of a variety of dinosaurs were written and labeled on each vial. The man pushing the cart seemed fixated on reading each vial that he accidently bumped the cart on Dr. Malcolm's leg. Dr. Malcolm sent the man away with a grumble before the man could apologize.

The red head didn't even bother to stop and wait for him. She kept walking, balancing that ego of hers on her nose, and he had to jog until he was back to her side.

"I was looking more for something along the lines about what makes me qualified to look after a monster that could rip my body in two."

"The prototype has been slightly. . ."

She paused for a moment.

". . . modified from the designs of the original product."

There was uncertain worry growing in Dr. Malcolm. "Modified how?"

"Dr. Henry Wu explained that he modified the prototype to be significantly smaller than the original design to ensure an easy termination if it gets out of hand."

"That's a relief," Dr. Malcolm sighed, though he still feared he'd end up a causality if this thing he's looking after decides to go berserk before it's been terminated. "Wait, did you just say terminated?"

He was walking behind her, but he could easily tell she was rolling her eyes.

"Killed. . . erased. . . disposed of. . . thrown into the incinerator. . . how else do you want me to describe it?"

There was something inside him that him uneasy. It wasn't pity, he told himself, because it doesn't make sense for him to feel sorry for something that could tear him into two in seconds. "Throw it away just like that? I'm no expert, but isn't making dinosaurs like. . . I don't know. . . expensive?"

Claire sighed. Conversations like this weren't worth her time. "It's a prototype, Dr. Malcolm. It was meant to be disposed of the moment it was created."

"All right. . . I guess that makes me feel better. . ." It didn't. Dr. Malcolm felt even more uncomfortable on how nonchalant Claire can just throw a dinosaur's life into the trash can like it was another piece of chewed up gum.

"But. . ." Claire began.

"And there it is," Dr. Malcolm grumbled.

"Dr. Henry Wu has expressed concerns about the side effects of the modification. He believes that the prototype might express a higher level of thought than your usual dinosaur. . . around the level of an average human he says."

"So what I'm basically dealing with here. . ."

"A dinosaur who can not only rip us all to shreds, but who just also happens to poop and cry and complain nonstop just like your average human brat." She looked over her shoulder to smile at him. It was a true, happy smile this time because she knew the suffering he was about to endure. "Don't look so worried, Dr. Malcolm. This isn't another one of your ridiculous sci-fi movies where the thing that becomes smarter than humans suddenly take over the world. And besides, you'll only be required to look after the prototype during its infant stages. Oh, and did I already mention that infants like to poop, cry and complain nonstop?"

"Yes, you did," he mumbled, glowering at her uptight smile.

"Good!"

They reached the end of the hall where a metal door stood in their path. There was a keypad attached to the side with a message on its tiny little screen.

FOUR DIGIT CODE REQUIRED

Claire pressed a few buttons and soon a new message appeared over the screen.

IDENTIFICATION REQUIRED

He watched her pull out a card from her pocket and slid it over the keypad.

IDENTIFICATION ACCPETED

The metal door slid open and the two stepped inside.

Dr. Malcolm would be lying if he said he didn't lose a moment of his breath every time he saw this room. Dozens of incubators rose from the floor like great pillars, holding eggs of various sizes under glass domes. Rovers would zip across the room, each attached with a giant, robotic arm that would organize the eggs gently into the incubator with their claws before closing the glass dome and zipping onto to the next incubator. At other times, he'd find a pair of scientists cooing and making silly faces at a freshly hatched, baby velociraptor that chirped and writhed in the palm of their hands. Dr. Malcolm smiled at the sight. He remembered fondly the time he'd make the same ridiculous noises and faces at the baby raptors. He stopped since the day he met face to face with what they'd grow up to.

At the end of the room, they had reached another door.

"The prototype's egg is just behind this door," Claire explained. "It's hatching is imminent, so you'll be required to wait in here until it does."

"Why can't I just leave and come back when it hatches?"

"Dr. Henry Wu has explained that it's best for you to be in the presence of its hatching stage; it'll make it easier for the prototype to identify you as its mother."

"Hey, I ain't no mom," he scoffed.

"Well, unless you want your V.I.P access and free food rescinded, you'll play mother for the next few years."

Dr. Malcolm's sigh was his signal of defeat.

"I appreciate your understanding, Dr. Malcolm." Claire gave him a smile of her victory before opening the door and shooed him inside. Once he was inside, she closed the door behind him.

It took a while for Dr. Malcolm's eyes to adjust to the lighting. Compared to the white, blinding light in the other room, this room only had a single bulb of light on the ceiling that gave the walls a dim blue glow. There was an incubator just like the ones outside that stood in the middle of the room; however, unlike the others, this incubator had one single egg, about as big as a football, stationed within the glass dome. Its pearly shell glowed within the incubators light.

The red head was even considerate enough to leave him a chair next to the incubator. So, Dr. Malcolm took a seat, stared and became mesmerized at the eggs pearly surface, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And fell asleep.

. . .

. . .

. . .

CRACK!

Dr. Malcolm was instantly jolted from his nap. His frantic eyes, blurred from his awakening, zipped across the room as a million questions raced in his head. Where was he? Why was he here? And why was he staring at an cracking egg?

CRACK!

Oh, that's right. I was waiting for this egg to hatch.

CRACK! CRACK!

A small, four-clawed hand broke through the shell, reaching out as if it were trying to grasp something.

Oh shit. . .

Dr. Malcolm jumped from his seat and placed his shaking hands against the warm glass of the dome. His face was contorted by the conflictions of fear and amazement. He watched, entranced, as another four-clawed hand shot through the shell to grasp and feel the air for the first time in its life. He then noticed the area of the shell between and slightly above its freed hands was thumping. It's head was trying to break through.

"C'mon, little guy, you're almost there. . ." Dr. Malcolm encouraged.

That seemed to be all the encouragement it needed because soon after its reptilian head burst through and released a triumphant cry. The rest of the shell holding him back soon broke like a dam. It and the contents of the egg spilled out to the incubator's floor. It crawled over the liquid, crying out like a baby chick.

Dr. Malcolm opened the glass dome. He wasn't foolish to suddenly yank the newly hatched dinosaur from the incubator. He'd heard far too many stories about how inexperienced scientists lost their fingers handling new born dinosaurs. Instead, he laid down his hand with his palm facing up. The baby rex sensed this new presence and crawled over to it. It climbed and curled itself on palm of his hand, content. Gently, Dr. Malcolm lifted the newborn from the incubator and cradled it to his chest.

"You're pretty small, ain'tcha?" he chuckled.

Its response was a squeaky little chirp, drawing another laugh from the Dr. Malcolm. He began wiping off the excess gunk from its body when he noticed something strange about its body. Was one of the side effects that Dr. Henry Wu was worried about was how. . . human it looked? Don't get him wrong, the rex still had the claws, tail, and head of a vicious dinosaur (albeit a head of a species he doesn't recognize). But its upper torso looked strangely human like. He bet it could walk upright like a person on its digitigrade legs if it tried. And then there was its eyes. Its red, predatory eyes held a strange and familiar intelligence to it, as if it were studying him as much as he was studying it.

One side of him feared that intelligence; it would grow to become a threat and hurtle humanity to its extinction.

But the other side cherished that intelligence; it would grow to become a beacon and guide humanity to prosperity.

These thoughts were conflicting so much that he eventually just gave up thinking about the whole thing with a sigh. "Kid, if there's one thing that I do know, it's that you're gonna cause me A LOT of trouble."

It seemed to understand that, and it replied happily with a chirp.

Author's note: I hope you guys like the first chapter of this reboot. Leave a review to let me know what you thought about it!