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Project Circe
Topic Started: Feb 2 2016, 06:15 PM (4,035 Views)
Flisch
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Disclaimer:
This story may contain adult themes* and violence that might not be suited for younger members of the forum. Keep reading at your own discretion.


*Adult refers to sexual themes, though not (intentionally) pornographic ones.





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In order to prevent the story from being broken up too much, please post comments, questions or suggestions in the OOC thread. Thank you. :)
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Subject: No subject
 
Date: 2019/11/18
Time: 16:51
To: Staff

So I heard a decision has been made to continue Project Circe. I am not entirely sure what I am supposed to feel about it. On the one hand this is big. On the other hand this is exactly what worries me. It could be too big to handle.

But at least we have a plan now. I can't say it's a particularly stable plan, considering it builds on nothing definite other than "Maybe this works.". Project Circe is steering towards an uncertain future and I hope our plans with A. Johnson will not end in tragedy, should he even accept, which is far from assured.

I also want to take this moment to remind everyone of how serious the situation is. This was not a minor setback. We lost two good people, because we weren't prepared. We should not make the same mistakes again. Even if Johnson is indeed as good as it is claimed, we should double up on our efforts, triple up if possible.

We are not only testing new technology and learn more about the history of our planet. We are also gambling with people's lifes here. Whenever we send someone back, there is a good chance they won't return. I want everyone to remember this, to internalize this.

Personally I can live with the shut-down of Project Circe, but I don't want to be responsible for another person's death. I hope we all see eye to eye here.

Regards,
C. Peters, Head of Research
Edited by Flisch, Apr 9 2016, 05:41 PM.
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After I've come to my senses I feel the brisk morning air prickling the surface of my heated body. I realize that I'm still standing still and decide to take a stroll through the landscape.

I walk towards a copse in the distance. At the edge I see some silver, or rather ultraviolet, blotches on the ground. I make sure not to step on them now that I know what they are. At the base of a tree nearby I see a larger stain. The trunk itself also seems to have some splashes on it. It looks like there's a nest in this tree. I try to look up the trunk, but I need to twist my neck in order to tilt my head, due to the bony plates limiting my movement.

Not only can I see a hole in the tree, there's also a small mammal sitting right in front of it, gnawing at something between its paws. It looks a bit like an oppossum, though with a more shrew-like head. The tail is naked and wrapped around the branch the animal is sitting on.

The little mammal seems to ignore me at first, but as I pass the tree, I see a movement flitting down the tree trunk. The little furball has climbed down and is running to my tail end where it disappears from my view. I turn around just enough to see behind me. There the little animal is searching the ground, running back and forth and turning litter up. It's possibly looking for insects or nuts I may have flattened in my wake.

I leave the mammal be and continue forward. The copse becomes a bit denser, but it's still open enough that the canopy doesn't form a closed cover. I walk for several minutes and I'm starting to think this is less of a copse and more of a small forest. The trees aren't really big, most seem to be young but I do find some very old and thick tree trunks lying on the ground, rotten by what must have been years of mold and grubs decomposing the wood. Maybe there has been a fierce storm a while back that uprooted all of the old trees and left the younger, more flexible ones standing.

Eventually I come across a group of other dinosaurs. They're bipeds but I can tell immediately that they are herbivores, despite the rather intimidating claws on their hands. They look a bit like someone created a crossbreed out of birds, raptors and sauropods. Their entire body is covered in golden down, and their folded arms have actual feathers, like those on bird wings. Their long tail has a row of feathers on each side, making it look flattened towards the end. Their neck is long and ends in a small head. If I remember correctly from the lesson with Quinton, they are called therizinosaurs.

The dinosaurs do not pay me much attention. Some of them stop eating for a second to look at me but quickly resume eating. They use their long claws to pull down branches in order to reach leaves that are higher up. I try to think of any animal that eats like this, but the closest I can come up with is apes, like gorillas, and even that doesn't quite fit.

I move forward and suddenly some of the therizinosaurs approach me, throwing their arms up to reveal the feathers' brightly coloured underside. I can hear them croak, but their vocalizations do not seem to match the movements of their jaws. I can only hear a sound when they are about to close the mouth again. Am I partly deaf? Maybe this ankylosaur isn't the youngest member of its kind...

More therizinosaurs are arriving. Interestingly, they do not surround me, but rather position themselves in one corner as if protecting something. I peer past their bodies and see a big pile of litter behind them. It's almost as big as I am. Could it be a nest? This would also explain why they are so upset about me coming hear it. Funny, I wouldn't even have noticed if they didn't feel like making a huge deal out of it.

Looks like the therizinosaurs have had enough of me and are now actively trying to drive me off, snapping the air in front of me as an intimidation tactic. They're not using their claws, yet. Although they use them for browsing, I'm pretty sure they can serve as formidable weapons if needed. Then again I am armored like a tank, so it's not like I'd put up an easy fight.

But there is no need for conflict. I'm not really interested in their eggs anyway. I turn away from them, presenting only my spiked rear and tail, and leave. The therizinos don't follow me and their croaks quickly cease after a few steps. Good, looks like we can be friends after all.

I walk for a few more minutes when I hear a familiar rumbling again. It's a similar call as from the female some time ago, but I can tell it's a different 'voice' this time, though female again. I respond with my own bellow and get a prompt reply.

Damn, I just reacted without actively thinking about it again. I consider leaving her be this time. I just did have intercourse. Do I need another session? Actually, why not? I can at least take a look.

Did I just think about taking a look at a dinosaur? Uh, I try not to think about it too much. After all I did make a decision to let instincts guide me this time, I should just roll with it. I continue our exchange of bellows and each time her call sounds closer to mine.

Eventually she comes into view. Unlike the other female, she does not get into position immediately. Instead she eyes me up. Looks like she is more picky about her company than the other one. Eventually she decides I am good enough. Well, if she'd be honest she would probably realize I'm the only male ankylosaur around. At least I haven't heard any other males so far. She assumes position and I feel a tingle in my groin again. I realize that I am facing the female the wrong way, since she is on my left but before I can finish the thought I feel a tug and realize that my genital must have emerged.

I look back at my body and sure enough there is the pale yellow spiral slowly expanding, except it's on the left. It doesn't feel like the other penis from last time. Does this mean I have two? I decide that this mystery can be solved later. I'm waiting for the moment our bodies make contact.

The moment never comes. It takes me a second to realize I'm back in the present, the heavy breathing of two dinosaurs replaced with a monotonous hum of lifeless machinery.

Through the closed lid I hear Chris exlaiming they're sorry. I wonder if that is directed at me and what they mean. Once it's pulled up, Chris sees something at my legs and tilts back in surprise. I look down and see-

Huh, seems like some of the excitement in the past has carried over to the present.
Edited by Flisch, Apr 25 2016, 04:30 PM.
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What a bunch of prudes.

When I returned to the present, everyone was acting really awkward. They didn't know where to look and couldn't decide whether to leave the lab or to stay. It's even more hilarious if one considers the fact that they knew this could happen. Infact, they knew what I was feeling, because they were monitoring my brainwaves. It's also why Chris told me that they're sorry. He was remarking on the fact that the session ended while I had intercourse, or was otherwise sexually active.

They regained their composure during the report. Everyone was acting very professional, more so than usual infact. I of course didn't leave out any detail. Afterall that's what we have the reports for, right? Especially Green was visibly uncomfortable. Quinton however was relatively cool with it. That was a bit unexpected as I always pegged him as bit more inhibited.

After the report I had my appointment with the shrink. As expected, it was a huge waste of time. First, he tried to tip-toe around the elephant in the room and talked about my trips in general. I decided to cut to the chase and told him about my latest session. That got him interested, of course, and he started to ask me a bunch of other pointless questions. I suppose I can take solace in the fact that the meeting is only once every week.

Once the meeting was over I returned to my room. I feel exhausted, not from the trip, but rather from having to deal with people. Barring possible death, I prefer several hours of those trips over half an hour of talking. There is not a lot to do here anyway. I just sit around, trying to pass the time, while during the trips an hour passes in what feels like minutes.

I collapse on the couch and think back to todays session. I never really had the time to process it. All the time there was a meeting looming ahead. Maybe it's also the fact that I now have the needed distance from the actual events, that I can think about it more clearly.

Now that I am back in my human body I look at what happened in the trip from an almost detached view. It's somewhat like watching a documentary. Or is it? I turn on the TV to check. I have to admit I've never watched a documentary in full, usually just some scenes while zapping through the program in a hotel room. After a few minutes I find a program about wolves in the tundra of north america. I watch as the narrator explains their pack dynamics, their hunting techniques and the fate of an especially unfortunate mother wolf and her pups.

No, this is not what it feels like. The show is a paradoxical mixture of visual drama and cold, emotionless narration. My memories are not detached. They may be disconnected from the context, but they are still mine. I was there, it was me and not some animal. Every action I took was one I decided to take.

It's the same feeling again as I had after the other sessions. The animal I inhabited is gone, but something is there in the corner of my mind, just out of reach. Am I still making sense?

What's happening to me?
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C:\Users\qross\Documents\PalaeoNotes\Johnson_2019_11_29.doc
 
Timeframe: 99 mya - 91 mya
Era: Late Cretaceous
Session Length: 56 min
Location: "Grass"-land, possibly temperate, Asia or North America most probably

I try to expect a lot of things when a timepod user comes back from their trip, but I never would have imagined someone returning with literally intimate details about the animal's sex life. But here we are, with Johnson who actually decided to do the one thing that has revolutionized evolution ever since.

I am not complaining, far from it. Infact I'm very grateful that Johnson doesn't leave things out that others would be too shy to do or talk about. One could say that in this regard he is a better scientist than most. Luckily everyone was handling it very professionally, though I guess it should be expected, especially with the military background of most.

But first things first, his animal was an ankylosaur, a nodosaurid to be precise. There was little remarkable about his species in particular. He tried to describe the animal in detail, and although there are some known genera that come close, none of them seem to quite fit. I assume it's just a species whose remains we haven't found yet and maybe never will.

The big irony here is that the most interesting part we learned about an animal whose remains have not been fossilized (or just not found) gave us an insight into a trait that is presumably shared among other members of its clade but itself has never been fossilized.

Genitalia are an extremely rare thing to find as fossils and off the top of my head I can't remember a single instance about genitalia being present in a fossil. As such we know literally nothing about how extinct animals mated. In a way it seems like a blind spot. We just fill in the blanks with things we are familiar from today, if it ever comes up, which is not often.

It's odd that it has been brought up so rarely, but how would ankylosaurs and to a greater extent their close relatives, the stegosaurs, actually go about mating? Mounting could potentially be explained away in the former, but definately not in the latter. Even laying down on one side would be problematic as many stegosaurs actually had spikes protruding to their sides. And although nobody ever really asked those questions, we finally got an answer.

The thing is that instead of changing their mating position, they changed their genitals themselves. Like the saying goes: If the mountain won't come to the prophet, the prophet must go to the mountain. I can of course only speak about ankylosaurs with certainty, but considering the fact that the mounting problem is even more severe for stegosaurs I am assuming that they must have solved this issue in a somewhat similar fashion.

In order to mate side-by-side in a standing position, ankylosaurs evolved long penises that extend directly to their sides. They are shaped like spirals and uncurl as they become erect, possibly to take up less space when retracted. What's even more is that they have two penises, possibly similar to the hemipenises of squamates. One might assume that these are used alternately, which is indeed what Johnson did. I find it to be of note that dinosaurs are not closely related to squamates and their closest relatives, crocodiles, do not possess hemipenises. This implies that the ankylosaurian double-penis is a "new" evolution, unique to their clade.

The process itself seemed to be rather straightforward. There was no courtship ritual or something similar. Johnson described both participants to communicate via bellows prior to the mating, which may serve as both a way to find a partner and also a way to judge their fitness. After the mating itself, the female simply leaves, implying that ankylosaurs do not form bonds. Infact, Johnson mated with two different ankylosaurs. (I would have never thought there was a context in which such a sentence would make sense.) I assume the female buries the eggs and lets them hatch on their own, similar to how sauropods are thought to do it.

The bellows also revealed some interesting information, or rather confirmed previous suspicions. Johnson seemed to hear only a certain range of sound. He reported not being able to hear birds and crickets, which is peculiar but not really noteworthy. However, he also encountered some therizinosaurs, whose high-pitched screams he could hear only partially. All the while he was able to fully pick up the bellows from the other ankylosaurs, which he described as "impossibly" low, likely because they were in a frequency humans are unable to hear. Again, not exactly surprising, but it's nice to have confirmation.

As if that wasn't enough, Johnson was also able to find out about how therizinosaurs reproduced. Apparently they built mounds of decaying plant materials, similar to today's megapodes. Interestingly their mounds were proportionally smaller, which is even more peculiar if one considers the fact that they seemed to build shared nests. It makes me wonder whether the mound itself was used as an incubator or if it served a different purpose altogether.

Otherwise the claws of the therizinosaurs have been confirmed to aid them in browsing through trees, by pulling down branches. I wonder if their claws are also used to carry the materials used to build their nests. As far as I know their hands were sufficiently dexterous enough to allow that. Other than that it may be mentioned that the therizinosaurs Johnson encountered were gregarious animals, living in herds of about a dozen individuals. This is of course no guarantee that it's the same with other therizinosaurs.

Last but not least Johnson also came across an arboreal mammal. He described it as an oppossum with a shrew-like head. Unfortunately it can't get much more specific than that. With small mammals it's almost like fish: To laymen they all look the same. At least it shows that mammals weren't "hiding" underground from the dinosaurs as often portrayed in mockumentaries and movies, but I guess this is hardly a surprise.
Edited by Flisch, Apr 29 2016, 02:16 AM.
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Subject: Psychological Evaluation - Session AJ-02
 
Date: 2019/11/29
Time: 15:27
To: c.lang

Weekly evaluation is attached to this mail.

Sincerely,
M. Dale

PE_AJohnson_191129.doc
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Saturday, what a waste of everyone's time. It's not even noon yet, and it feels like the day is not going to end. I check the time on my room's phone display. Soon I'll have a talk with Mrs Lang and for some reason I'm looking forward to it. Not because I like talking to her in particular, but because at this point everything seems better than boredom.

There's still some time left until the meeting, but I don't see the point of twiddling my thumbs, so I decide to go now. In the worst case I have to wait, but it's not like I have anything better to do in my room.

In the hallway I realize that I don't even know where her office is, so I need to check at the reception. After being given the directions I'm on my way. I arrive at an open door to a room that appears to be an anteroom to her office. There I am greeted by Stuart who tells me that I'm a bit early, though his tone is not accusatory. I ask him if that's a problem and he tells me that he will check with Mrs Lang. After knocking on her door he pokes his head inside for a short exchange. Afterwards he opens the door wide and gestures me to enter her office. Once I'm in the room, Stu closes the door behind me.

While Mrs Lang is putting away some papers she was working on some seconds ago, I take a seat across from her and state that she wanted to see me. She confirms and pulls out some other papers. The one at the top is a transcript of the report of my first trip on monday. She tells me that she only wanted to talk to me to see where I'm at. It has been a week and she wants to know what I think of the project. Man, nobody has ever asked me these kinds of questions. Who cares what I think, it's just a job, but fine. I tell her that it's okay so far, nothing major to complain about. Yes, I'm not a fan of the shrink sessions, but she already made her point that they think they are needed.

Mrs Lang goes through the papers in front of her. Judging from the amount it's probably not only transcripts of my trips. She remarks that I've been through quite a few things during my sessions. Looking at me again she says that most people would probably not want to continue with the project. After a short but apparently meaningful pause I ask if I have the choice. Mrs Lang explains that although I signed a contract, I am free to leave the project at any time I wish. This research is very dangerous for the user and has yet to reveal any definite benefits. The main focus is basically just seeing how it works. Such a project does not justify enlisting people and exposing them to danger against their will. While technically I would breach the contract, she made an agreement with her superiors to not let me get dragged to a court-martial. Essentially the project, while technically under military jurisdiction, is somewhat treated like a civillian research project.

There is another pause and I wonder what exactly I am supposed to say. Eventually she says that she will take that as a confirmation to continue with the project, to which I simply nod. I guess there are some other things I could rather do, safer things, but if I wanted to live a safe life I wouldn't have spent the past decades doing the things I do. This project is dangerous alright, but also unique and very exciting. I won't leave just because it gets a bit tough.

After having gotten that out of the way she returns her attention to the papers. She asks me what I think about the staff, if I had any problems. I tell her that as long as everyone stays out of my business it's fine. She rephrases her question by telling me that she was more talking about working with them. I say that there have not been any problems.

Unfazed by my elliptical answers, she brings up Quinton and asks me if the palaeontology lessons have been useful. I say that in the beginning there were some... differences in expectations, but Quinton quickly realized which information I need. It beats the psychology talks, that's for sure.

I almost expect her to ask me about Dale next, but instead she brings up Stuart. She says that from what she's heard the both of us had some difficulties. I'm a bit surprised by that. I wouldn't exactly call it difficulties. I tell her that he makes some mistakes, but nothing he won't grow out of with enough experience. There is a brief smile on her face, but I can't tell whether it's out of agreement or, well, disagreement.

Apparently she's about to wrap up our talk and asks me if I have any other comments, anything my apartment is missing. I say that Stuart has asked me about a computer and I already said no. Mrs Lang says that she understands and assures me that I won't be forced to use one. Well, I'd like to see them try.

Now that our talk is coming to an end I think back to my room and the next few hours. And then there's sunday tomorrow. I ask her if the weekends are really necessary. At first she doesn't understand my question, but quickly realizes I am referring to the lack of trips. She says that especially the scientists need the weekend to work on the equipment and analyze the data. Afterall, that is all the project is about. Well, I'll survive, I guess.

I'm ready to leave, but Mrs Lang interrupts by asking me if I do anything in my freetime. I say that I would, but there's nothing in this middle of nowhere to do. She asks me if I used to carve. Wait, did- I ask her if Stuart told her that. She says that he might have mentioned it in passing. Right. I say that I used to carve, but I couldn't find any usable wood in the forest nearby. After a short break she says that she can order some materials if I tell her what I need or prefer. I pause for a moment, not sure what to think of this. She assures me that this would be no problem. Infact, it's one of the easier accomodations they can provide. Fine let's try this. I tell her that I only really need the wood, as I still have my tools. The quality is not that important, you can't be too picky when you're in the wild.

Mrs Lang nods and writes something down on a post-it. After that she shakes my hand and thanks me for my time. Funny.

Well then, looks like it's time to kill time again.
Edited by Flisch, May 3 2016, 04:35 PM.
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On the next day I take a walk in the forest again. It's still the same sterile environment I visited some days ago. This time I decide to stay close to the road. Ironically, the narrow strip right next to the street is closer to nature than the entire forest. The cover of needles is not as thick as inside, allowing all sorts of herbs and flowers access the soil below. Of course, at this time of the year, all I can see are some patches of grass and similar plants. It is telling that this pathetic little strip of green reminds me most of my journeys full of verdant growth.

Due to the cold weather, there are barely any insects flying around. I inspect some of the trees to check if there are some bugs crawling around the bark, but I can only see the odd ant scouting the area. Most animals are possibly already preparing for the winter. As if confirming my thoughts, I hear a croak above me and see a wedge of ducks or geese flying south. Strange, I thought the migrations should have finished weeks ago. Maybe these are the last stragglers. Or maybe they didn't intend to fly south initially but are now forced by the weather changes.

Whatever the case may be, I see them disappear into the distance and can't help but wonder what fate has in store for them. All the good wintering grounds must be already taken, and due to the other animals going into hibernation, it will be hard for them to feed on the way. Interesting, I never thought about these kinds of things before. Maybe the trips make me more aware of the individual fates of each animal.

I continue following the road without ever encountering a single car. Now that I think about it, the only car I've seen on this street was the one I arrived in. This seems to be a very remote area. I walk for one and a half hours before I decide to return to the lab. After all these kilometers I've covered, I still haven't found the end of the forest. It is somewhat grotesque to think that such a vast area is lost to this lifeless aggregation of trees.

I return to my room and spend some time cooling down. A three hour walk is usually no issue for me at all, but spending most of your time in a research facility takes its toll on your fitness. I take a mental note to add more cardio to my daily workout routine.

After I feel sufficiently refreshed again, I decide to grab some dinner in the cafeteria. Immediately when I arrive I regret my timing. It seems like around this time literally everyone is eating. I sit down with my food at the last empty table, though it being a rather large one it is only a matter of time until other people join me.

Five men take seats next to me and greet me right off the bat. They have no uniform, but they appear to be soldiers. One of them remarks that he hasn't seen me before and asks me what I'm doing. I tell him that it's confidential, which seems to surprise him. He thought I was part of the military, not the research project. He looks at me as if he asked a question. Well, he didn't, so I don't answer anything and continue with my food. After some seconds he gives his comrades a look that seems to mean "Well, I tried." which they take as a sign to continue with their own conversation, without bothering me further. Good, if everyone was as smart as him, this place would only be half as bad.

I finish my food and go back to my room where I spend the rest of the evening until I fall asleep. In the morning I wake up from a vivid dream again. I saw mountains with legs and glowing eyes rumble across the landscape flattening everything in their way. As they approached a lake, their hide cracked open and long yellow tentacles emerged.

After I am finished with my morning routine, including my modified workout session, I make my way to the lab. Everyone is already there and Quinton gives me my regular briefing: 111 to 119 million years, early cretaceous. Oh, we moved away from the late cretaceous. Not that I got bored of its dinosaurs, but it's nice to have progress.

As I take my place in the timepod I notice that some of the awkwardness from friday still lingers. Especially Chris seems to be less talkative and I get the feeling he even avoids eye contact. Well who cares. I lie there, watching the lid come down. How long I have waited for this moment.

Three

Well, it was two days, but still.

Two

Yes!

One
Edited by Flisch, May 22 2016, 05:14 PM.
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My surroundings change into an almost uniform grey, leaving me slightly disoriented. It takes me quite a few seconds to get my bearings and finally I realize I am underwater. Apparently whales are not the only marine animals to see in black and white. Which reminds me to check what I am.

I am... not sure. I cannot move my head, infact I am not sure if I can feel my head, so I can't take a good look at my body. In front of me are several long feathers drifting in the water, emerging from my... mouth? But I can't feel anything hanging out of it. I can feel some things surrounding my mouth though. Part of this feels familiar, but... I can't put my finger on it. I try to look at my body by swiveling my eyes. Unfortunately they barely move, so I can't see anything. I try to feel the rest of my body, but there really isn't anything else. Only my eyes, my mouth with the feathers around it and- Now it clicks. There is a small tube below my mouth pushing water out, it reminds of one of my earliest trips, the one where I was a squid in the deepsea.

Okay, now things start to make sense. I'm a squid of sorts, except my tentacles have long bristles, giving them the appareance of feathers. I still can't feel my body though. I move one of my tentacles down to my underside, or try to at least. For some reason moving my tentacles feels a bit awkward, as if I am not in full control. It's more like giving them a command and they handle the details themselves. Somehow I manage to... convince it to move down and feel my body. My tentacle comes in touch with a hard, smooth surface, that doesn't feel like my skin but still as if it belongs there.

Okay, now it all makes sense. Suddenly I remember these things I saw in Quinton's books: Ammonites, some sort of nautiluses. Well, he said they're not actually nautiluses, but who cares. In the pictures they were always depicted with actual squid-like tentacles and not these... bristle-things. So now the books's illustrations are not only distorted, but inaccurate? Oh well, I really shouldn't be surprised.

I return my attention to my surroundings. I can see small spots of white or light grey floating in the distance, too far away to make out any details. I look at the surface and see only a dull light grey above me. Strange, when I was a squid, I would see it as blue. Aren't these animals supposed to be related?

I can't see a lot where I am, so I decide to move up. It's probably about ten meters below the surface. As I ascend, I see other ammonites come into view. Most of them also have round shells and bristled tentacles, but I see one other ammonite with a narrow discus-like shell speeding past me, trailing several squid-like tentacles behind it. Well, almost squid-like, the tentacles seem to feature rows of short curved hooks on the inside.

After the discus ammonite has passed me I can see its siphon pumping out water in bursts, moving it forwards, or backwards, depending on how you look at it. This reminds me of my own siphon that is also releasing water as I am drifting up. Only now do I realize that I never consciously made any actions to move upwards, I just decided to do it, similarly to how I just decide to walk in my human body, without having to coordinate my legs and feet in detail. After all these trips, I am still amazed by how well the muscle memory works when I take over an animal's body.

I am now only two or three meters below the water's surface. I can see a bit more clearly now, at least the shades of grey have become brighter and I can see my tentacles better now. They are positioned in front of me, slightly pointing away from each other, with the bristles pointing to the sides, making them look like palm fronds.

Something touches one of my tentacles and I can taste the morsel as if it was in my mouth. Reflexively the frond retracts and moves to my beak with folded bristles, where my tongue scrapes off the small food item. I have no idea what it was, but if I had to take a guess it was a tiny animal, like a shrimp. Apparently my ammonite is a filter-feeder. Meanwhile the frond uncurls again without any of my doing. For some reason, seeing my "arms" move on their own is not at all unsettling. It is strange in a way, but I also feel used to it.

For the next few minutes I watch my tentacles collect more food, somewhat mesmerized, until I notice something in the corner of my eyes. It's too far away to make out any details, but something big is drifting by just below the surface above me.
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Curiosity gets the better of me and slowly I approach the object. After a few meters I can make out enough to see a big round shell with several wide feathered tentacles curling down. This probably means it's a filterfeeder, like me. The big ammonite is accompanied by a pair of fish, moving between the tentacles.

I do not expect any harm from either the ammonite nor the fish so I swim closer. A few meters in front of it I turn to the left to have a better look with my left eye. Or right eye? I am not sure which is supposed to be the front for animals that move backwards.

The shell of the giant ammonite is striped, with each stripe oriented towards the center of the shell. The space between the stripes is pale, white, from my point of view and the stripes themselves are dark. At the top the stripes are thicker and longer, while the ones at the bottom are thin and do not go all the way to the center. This gives the shell a distinct darker top and a light bottom.

As I drift there, a short distance from the other ammonite, I can see its eye focusing on me. It appears to have a better movability than mine, possibly because it's harder to maneuver the entire body with such a large shell. Only now do I realize just how small I am. I have no real sense of scale and my estimates of distances were based on gutfeeling rather than actually comparing sizes. Now that I see the fish in direct comparison, I have a slightly better grasp. Based on their proportions and movements, the fish appear to be no bigger than a carp but aren't smaller than a human hand. Depending on how large the fish are, the big ammonite's shell must have a diameter somewhere between one and three meters, which would mean that my shell is at most 30 centimeters in diameter, if not less.

Now one of the fishes seems to notice me and swims over. First it circles my position, as if curious to my presence. Its body has a medium gray colour, but its head is completely black, making it difficult for me to see its eyes. After a few rounds it comes near my tentacles, seemingly inspecting them.

Then without forewarning it attacks one of my arms and makes off with the tip in its mouth. A large cloud of smoke appears, enshrouding the fish. Wait, it's not smoke, it's ink, and I seem to have released it reflexively. The water suddenly tastes like rotten eggs and I swim out of the cloud. After a second I see the fish emerging from the other side heading towards the giant mollusc.

I decide to leave the ammonite and its two companions alone. While I'm drifting away I take a look at my torn tentacle. A very thin streak of dark fluids emerges from the tip but the bleeding stops very soon, much faster than I anticipated.

I gently swim through the open sea for some time. I pass several other ammonites, fish and even a school of small squids. They could also have been belemnites, I couldn't tell. I decide to stay with the shoal for a while, observing how they move in concert with each other. Suddenly there is disarray in their swimming patterns. Individuals break formation and dart away left and right. It takes a moment until the screen of fleeing squids or belemnites rushes past me, freeing my vision.

In the distance I can see the blurry silhouette of a large animal approaching.
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As the animal approaches, its shape becomes clearer. It's one of those marine reptiles. A long conical head at the end of a short neck and four strong flippers without a tail fin means this is a pliosaur, if I remember the name correctly. It is a lot smaller than I imagined, three meters at most. As the reptile is approaching, it thrashes about, snapping left and right to catch the little belemsquids. Unfortunately for it, the little molluscs are too fast.

Unlike me. I realize that I have no real means of escape, which leaves me to trust in the durability of my shell, should the pliosaur attack. And looking at those jaws, that doesn't exactly fill me with hope.

I try to escape using my siphon, but my speed is laughably slow and I barely notice I'm moving. Even worse, my bobbing must have made the reptile aware of my presence and is now heading towards me. Instinctively I retract into my shell. Once I'm fully inside, I feel two valves close, sealing the opening.

For a second I float in complete darkness. There are not even any sounds, apart from the ambient underwater noises, though they're muted through my shell. Then my entire body is grabbed and moved around. I can feel the jaws pressing down on my shell. The pliosaur lets go of me several times, just to grab me again a split second later. It seems as if it is trying to angle its bite to exert the most force on my shell.

Suddenly I hear a crack. I panic. There's nothing I can feel, but my shell must have been damaged. I try to empty my ink sac, although I feel that there's not much in it anymore. Still I manage to open my valves just a little and squeeze out some ink. Again, the water tastes like rotten eggs. Hopefully that deters the reptile.

Apparently it does, as it lets go of my shell. I do not dare coming outside until I am sure the pliosaur won't attack me again. After several seconds I risk a peek. Tentatively I push out my arms and look around me. I can see a few belemsquids, but not the reptile. Taking a quick look above me tells me that it has returned its attention to the shoal again.

Wait, above me? Only now do I realize that I am sinking. I try to swim up, but my siphon is not strong enough to counteract my downward movement. Why am I sinking? Shit, if I don't stop, the pressure in the deeper waters will crush me.

I try to think of a way to get up again. I look around for anything to hold onto, but I'm in the middle of the ocean. As the waters around me become darker, I investigate my injury. I make one of my tentacles feel around my shell for the damage. After a few seconds I can feel a few holes. Apparently the pliosaur has punctured my shell with its teeth. It still doesn't explain why I'm sinking though. I guess it doesn't matter anymore. There is nothing I can do to get back up.

I keep falling into bottomless darkness for several more minutes. I must be several dozen meters below the surface now. Although I have no real reference point, it feels as if I am sinking more slowly than at the beginning. Eventually my downward movement seems to have stopped entirely.

Now I am floating there in the middle of nothing, completely motionless. What happened now? Why did I stop sinking? I use my siphon to push myself up a little. Against my expectations I do not sink down again, so I try once more. Again, I stay where I am.

Relieved I start my ascent back to the surface. Then I remember the pliosaur and decide to swim to a different location first before going straight up again.

As I drift through the dimly lit water, I can make out a few other animals. Some are fellow ammonites, some are fish. I also come across some jellyfish, though I make sure to give their tentacles a wide berth. Still, there are not as many animals as there were at the surface.

After a couple minutes I decide that it is time to get back up again. The ascent is rather uneventful. By now the wildlife gets slightly repetitive. I begin to wonder whether I am actually encountering the same three ammonites over and over again.

The waters become brighter again, indicating that I am getting close to the surface. Eventually I can see the shifting pattern of waves from below. Looks like I'm back.

I barely have time to finish that thought before I wake up in the timepod again. Why did it have to be now? I let out a frustrated sigh.

Looks like I'm back indeed.
Edited by Flisch, Jun 11 2016, 06:21 PM.
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C:\Users\qross\Documents\PalaeoNotes\Johnson_2019_12_02.doc
 
Timeframe: 111 mya - 119 mya
Era: Early Cretaceous
Session Length: 56 min
Location: Open ocean

I guess it was just a matter of time until we got a glimpse of the seas of the mesozoic. In retrospect it is somewhat odd that none of Carlos' and Nathan's trips were underwater.

Anyway, Johnson was put into the body of an ammonite. He described it as a strange sensation, considering the body was so completely unlike a human one. He was in a squid before, during one of his earliest trips, but it was less than a second, so he couldn't really do anything there. The only other time one of the timepod users was transported into the body of an invertebrate was Nathan's third trip, where he ended up in a scorpion.

Apparently, controlling a cephalopod body is even less like controlling a vertebrate body than controlling an arthropod is. At least scorpions have jointed legs -and even arms-, while ammonites have only tentacles. Additionally Johnson reported that he was not fully in control of his tentacles. Apparently ammonites had semi-autonomous arms similar to octopodes. Considering this, it seems like an ancestral trait. I tried to look up if it is the same for squids, but I couldn't find anything. Either this delegation of control evolved independently or it's simply only known for octopodes so far, because they can be studied more easily.

Speaking of which, Johnson noticed a rather strange thing. As an ammonite he could only see black and white, while he was able to see blue during his short trip as a squid, indicating that modern cephalopods can see at least some colours. Apparently colour vision in cephalopods is a somewhat "modern" evolution.

One thing that really shouldn't be that surprising was that his ammonite didn't have smooth tentacles like modern squid. Instead its arms featured two rows of bristles, enabling the tentacles to sieve the water for food particles. You never see these kinds of things explored in reconstructions, sadly enough.

Johnson ran into several other ammonites, many of them filterfeeders like his. According to his estimations, one of them was somewhere between one and three meters in diameter with large billowing tentacle fronds hanging down. Another ammonite was apparently built for speed and had a narrow shell, not unlike the early jurassic Oxynoticeras. This would indicate that it was less of a filterfeeder and more of an active predator. To support this, its tentacles were equipped with short curved hooks. I imagine it could use these to prey on fish or maybe jellyfish.

Unfortunately Johnson could not tell me with certainty how many tentacles any of the ammonites had. He didn't count, but based on memory, he guessed that for his ammonite there were eight, but that would mean ammonites have two tentacles less than squids. Since I don't believe that squids just evolved two new tentacles out of nowhere, it could be that his ammonite was a member of an advanced clade that does not belong to the group that gave rise to modern cephalopods. Maybe the two missing arms atrophied or moved inside the shell to serve other purposes, such as reproduction. But this is all just wild speculation anyway. Hopefully this can be cleared up in future trips.

Unfortunately, the encounters with the other animals were too short to provide a lot of information. The aforementioned giant ammonite was escorted by two fish, that attacked Johnson as he got close. One of them bit off part of his tentacle. Although this encounter was too short to come to a definite conclusion, it sounds like these fish were actually living in a symbiotic relationship with the giant ammonite and simply tried to defend their host. The attacker even gave Johnson plenty of time to leave before attacking, which I would not expect from a fish that was actively preying on ammonites. Plus, the giant ammonite did not seem to be bothered by their presence and continued feeding with its fronds fully extended.

When Johnson was attacked he released a cloud of ink. While it is no news that ammonites possessed ink sacs, I found it interesting to see it used in this way. Squids and octopodes eject ink as a means to escape, but most ammonites are too slow. Instead, their ink contained a foul flavour, deterring would-be predators. At least this was the case for his ammonite. Considering the sheer diversity and temporal range of ammonites, I can't speak for all of them. Johnson described the taste as that of rotten eggs, so the ink likely contained sulfuric compounds.

Later, when Johnson was swimming with a swarm of small squids or belemnites, he was attacked by a pliosaur. According to him, it was a rather small individual. Although it is possible that it was indeed a species of small pliosaurs, I find it equally likely -if not more so- that it was actually a juvenile.

During this attack, his shell got damaged, puncturing some of his ammonite's internal champers. This of course filled these with saltwater, increasing his body's overall density and in turn making him sink. Luckily, the remaining chambers compensated for the injured ones, restoring neutral buoyancy. I find it of note that this process apparently is not controlled consciously, though I guess it makes sense, since it's just a body function that does nothing but create an equibilirium in terms of density between body and environment. Afterall we also can't control our heartbeat and the digestive process.
Edited by Flisch, Feb 15 2017, 06:34 PM.
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Great, I've been stuck in my room since I got back from the report. The whole day now it has been pouring. A little bit of rain wouldn't keep me from going outside, but it's like a deluge and I know better than to risk getting a cold.

In the evening I decide to go to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. I picked an earlier time than usual, just to avoid the masses. My careful planning is rewarded with a mostly empty room. Perfect. I sit there and enjoy my meal in relative quiet, looking out the window and watching a transporter slowly maneuvering across the compound in a mist of heavy rainfall.

I see Amy enter the cafeteria. She notices me as well, smiling and nodding, before going to the counter to get dinner. A few moments later she appears in front of me, with tablet in hand and asks me if I mind her joining me. I look around me, slowly and accentuated, to make her aware of all the empty space, before returning my attention to her, with a questioning look on my face. She gets the hint and apologizes, taking a seat somewhere behind me. In the distance. As it should be.

A few minutes later I am finished with my food and go back to my room. After opening the door I see a rather large package standing on the ground, the top soaked wet, from the rain outside I presume. The side facing me has a post-it attached. It simply says my name and room number. So it is for me after all. I still have no idea what it could be. I grab a knife from one of my bags and open the box. I pull up the lids and see wood. Wooden blocks.

I remember now. Lang offered to order some wood in our last talk. Well, she certainly wasn't making empty promises. It's a lot of wood too, this should keep me busy for some time. The box is tightly packed with different sizes of blocks, but arranged in such a way that barely any empty space is left inbetween each part. It seems as if all of them are of the same kind though, not that I'm complaining.

As I am contemplating what I am actually going to carve, I hear someone knocking at my door. I get up and open it to reveal Stuart. He seems to be slightly surprised and tells me that he just wanted to add a note to the package, looking down at a piece of paper in his hands. Originally he wanted to tell me in person, but I wasn't there when they delivered it to my room. Well, I suppose now he has the chance again. He simply tells me that it's the wood I asked for and that I should contact him, if there are any issues. Well, if that's all he wanted to say, I don't think an extra note was needed for that, but whatever. I thank him and close the door.

I spend the next few hours working on a little sculpture of an ammonite shell. I decide to start with something easy since I do feel a little bit rusty. As it turns out, it was a good call. Once I am almost finished I notice how the proportions are off. The helix is not becoming smaller evenly towards the middle and the opening of the shell looks too big and rectangular. I leave the sculpture be. The goal is to pass the time anyway, not to produce works of art. I go to bed with the feeling of having accomplished something, for the first time since I got here.

I wake up to a vivid dream again. I was swimming in the ocean, my fins carrying me through the waters as I listened to the ambient noises around me. Suddenly the sky above the water darkened and I saw objects falling down, leaving a trail of black smoke in their wake. I dived down into the deeper waters until everything around me turned pitch black. Frightened, I retracted into my shell and as the noises around me turned into roars and shrieks, small objects pelted against my body.

I have no idea what to make out of these. I like to think they are just dreams, but they happen so frequently and are so unlike dreams I used to have. I shake off those thoughts during my morning workout and the subsequent cold shower. After grabbing some food at the cafeteria, I go to the lab.

I see Quinton on my way there and ask him if todays trip is still in the cretaceous. He confirms and asks me if I'd rather move to the next era. I tell him that it's fine, I was just curious. As we enter the lab, he goes on to give me the exact dates. 131 to 139 million years, again still early cretaceous. He tells me that this is the last trip to the cretaceous, at least for the time being.

I lie down on the timepod and close my eyes, preparing for the trip. I notice that I feel a bit more balanced than usual.

Three. Two. One.
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I seem to be in a tight place. My body is curled up and pressing against the sides of wherever I am. While it's slightly uncomfortable, it doesn't feel claustrophobic. It's more that I just want to leave, not that I feel that my life is threatened. I use my body feel around in my small space. The walls are round and smooth and I can't seem to find an opening. How did I get in here in the first place? I open my eyes but only see a very faint orange light, barely noticeable. I close my eyes again and press against the walls. It doesn't seem to do anything. I try a few more times, always without even the barest hint of success.

As I am contemplating what to do next I investigate my body. I can't look at myself so I try to move around my limbs. For some reason it doesn't tell me that much more. I can't tell how large my limbs are or what they're like. I can feel them, but I can't make out the details. They're just there, like when a foot has fallen asleep.

I hear a muted peep. It comes from my left. I open my eyes again, but still there's nothing but that faint orange light. Now I notice how the light changes in intensity. Also I can feel movements, as slight vibrations on the walls. None of this makes sense. Where am I? What is this place?

Another peep. Again I press against the walls and again nothing happens. During my struggle my snout presses against the smooth surface and I notice a small horny growth on the tip of my snout. I press it against the wall again, hoping to... What exactly am I hoping for? I don't know, but I try anyway. It takes me several tries until I feel the wall give in. I push farther and open a small hole. Light is flooding through the opening. Meanwhile I hear more peeps, though they seem to be slightly more distant now.

Then it dawns on me where I am: I'm in an egg, currently in the act of hatching. The peeps outside are quite possibly those of my fellow chicks. I work on enlargening the opening, which is easier said than done. The egg shell is tough and although I have managed to break through, I still have a lot to do before I'm out in the open.

After a minute or two I finally have managed to create a hole big enough to stick my head through. I look outside to greet my fellow nestlings while taking a much needed break. The nest is littered with egg shells and feathers and I can see two other chicks at the edge on my left. They seem to be entangled in some way. The one further out has its left wing lying on the head of the other chick, seemingly patting it with the occasional peep. Meanwhile the other one appears to push against the other chick with its head. What are they doing?

As I watch the two in confusion I notice differences between both chicks. The one pushing against the other is noticeably bigger and has a darker plumage. A quick look at myself reveals that my feathers have the same colouration as the chick that is being pushed. It's almost as if the bigger chick is not part of this clutch.

Then it happens. One last peep and the smaller chick is mercilessly pushed over the edge of the nest. I don't hear a rustle or thud and have to conclude that it was a rather deep fall. The survivor meanwhile rests its head on the edge of the nest, which appears to be built into an almost horizontal knothole. As it is recovering from the exertion I double up on my efforts to escape from my egg.

After another minute or so I finally manage to squeeze my way through the opening and slump onto the ground. My arms and legs don't seem to quite follow my commands. They are mostly flailing around when I try to move them. At first I don't know what's wrong, but then I remember: This bird is newly hatched. It doesn't have any muscle memory. I look up at the other chick. It seems to have regained its strength and is assessing the situation. I feel powerless in my current state.

Alarmed, I watch the other chick head towards me.
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I try to move to the side, to get out of the way, before I realize just how pointless that is. Not only are my movements too uncoordinated to make any meaningful progress, but the other chick is heading towards me, not just towards the general direction I'm in.

Although the other chick's movements are also awkward, they are still more precise than mine and it makes steady progress. As it gets closer I notice how it doesn't have a beak like a normal bird but merely a narrow snout, just like me. Quinton told me that birds evolved from dinosaurs and these animals must be some form of intermediate step. Everything else seems to be largely bird-like though. Neither of us has a long tail and the wings look fairly bird-like except for two tiny claws sticking out at the outer bend of the wing.

After what feels longer than it probably was, the chick has reached me and starts shoving me towards the edge of the nest. I try to shove back, but I am too weak to make a difference. Knowing that I cannot win this with strength, I decide to take a slightly more drastic approach. If I cannot stop the chick, I have to injure or maybe even kill it.

Unfortunately I do not possess much in way of weapons. My first attempt is to bite the other chick, but it turns out to be less than a nibble. My jaw musculature does not seem to be well developed and my teeth are nothing more than nubs. I also try the claws on my wings, attempting to scratch at the chick's eyes, but they cannot get through the eyelids. Desperately I try biting and scratching at other body parts, exposed skin, sensitive areas, but nothing seems to work.

Exhaustion is slowly starting to set in and my movements become slower. We are now almost at the edge of the nest. I try to throw myself to the sides, to get out of the way, forcing the chick to push from a different angle, thus buying me time. Unfortunately the chick quickly navigates me back into position with its head, leaving me out of options.

Eventually we reach the rim. I am being pushed up, an amazing feat, considering that the chick must have hatched not even an hour ago. I sit there at the very edge, trying my best not to fall over. Then, looking over the shoulders of the other chick, I get an idea. I bring my legs back to my body. I had them grab onto the rim as best as I could to prevent me from falling out, but I need them here now. I try to position them under my body and push myself up. The difficulty with which I have to control my body plus the fact that I am half dangling over the edge of the nest make this a very dangerous situation. I try my best to balance myself with my wings, which are now spread straight forward in an almost comical fashion.

Meanwhile, the other chick keeps pushing, its progress unhindered, since I am no longer holding onto the edge with my feet. Now for the last part of my plan: I push myself up while throwing my weight forward. I barely manage to tumble over the head and shoulders of the chick and find myself rolling into the feathers and eggshells. I notice how the nest does not have any twigs in it. It seems to be less of a bird nest and more of a mere hole in a tree, decorated with feathers.

However, there are bigger problems right now than to worry about the nature of this nest. As I am lying on my back, I crane my neck up to look at the other chick. Already it is turning around to go for another try. I am not sure if I can survive this for an hour.

I roll back to my belly, which is easier said than done. Then I take a look around me, while I have time. I can't see anything that could help me. I wonder if there is anything I can do with these egg shells. Yes, my claws may not be sharp enough, but maybe these shell fragments are.

My thoughts are interrupted by a pair of fluttering wings taking position above me. I look up to see a bird of sorts, except it has a narrow snout rather than a beak, a snout that currently has multiple worms and caterpillars in it. Its plumage is light blue with an orange throat and belly.

This must be mother bird! Or father bird maybe, how could I tell. I try to call out to my parent bird, but nothing but peeps escape my snout. Meanwhile the bird appears to be confused, looking around the nest as if searching for something. Of course, the missing chicks. Judging from the number of egg shells, we must have been around four, not counting the cuckoo. I look at the other chick, which has stopped moving towards me for the time being. I try to point at the other chick, but not only do my movements make it look as if I have a seizure but I doubt even if I put up a neon sign, the bird wouldn't understand.

Apparently coming to the conclusion that nothing seems to be wrong with the slightly bigger, slightly darker chick, the parent bird drops the collected insects on the nest floor, between me and the other chick. Immediately the cuckoo goes for the banquet that should not be intended for it. I look up at the parent bird, thinking of a way to convince it to kick out the other chick from the nest. I can't think of anything, so I guess I have to stick to the plan with the egg shells.

Except that now the parent bird has decided to clean up the nest and is removing all the shells by throwing them out. No! I want to stop it, but again, what can I do? I make some attempts to get its attention but end up flopping around uselessly instead. Peeping also doesn't seem to have an effect.

Once the nest is clean, I watch the parent bird take off, likely to collect more grub. Meanwhile, the other chick seems to have finished its meal and reassesses the situation.

I'm in some deep trouble.
Edited by Flisch, Jun 9 2016, 03:38 PM.
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The chick approaches me the same way as before, determined to get rid of me, to make me plummet to my death. Again my mind is racing, trying to think of things I could do, but I always return to the same conclusion: I can't do anything. The nest is literally empty, now that the egg shells are gone and nothing I have on my body can do anything to help me.

Once more, the cuckoo pushes me back to the edge. I try to escape again, but to no avail. I am now dangling over the rim, just like before. I try the same tactic and it works, just barely. The chick turns around and goes for another try. Another few minutes pass and I barely escape over its shoulder. How long can I do this?

As I lay there, I feel the feathers below me. I scratch them away, to see if there is anything underneath. Maybe I can dig myself partway in, which would prevent the chick from pushing me away. Unfortunately there is only wood below the feathers. The birds simply took a knothole and padded it with a layer of plumes.

In the next minutes, the chick makes more attempts, and each time my escape becomes more and more narrow. Exhaustion is setting in and I lose track of how many rounds we have gone through. I lose track of time and I'm beginning to lose track of myself. Due to the fatigue my consciousness is starting to drift away, but I force it to stay. I cannot give up now. I need all my wit if I want to survive this.

Unfortunately, it is starting to look bleak. I can feel my movements become more and more sluggish. This newly hatched body does not have a lot of reserves and what little there was has been drained away almost completely. A rush of adrenaline does nothing if there is no energy to keep the body going and depleted I lean against the cuckoo as it is pushing me towards my doom. By now my movements have become wishes. I command my wings and legs to help me, but they barely move. I can feel the rim of the nest rise under my body. We must be close to the edge. I open my eyes and see the precipe looming right behind me.

Seeing my imminent doom, my body gathers some last reserves. The world is dimming around me as the energy is rerouted from the brain to the muscles. The light becomes darker and the sounds become muted as I can feel my heartbeat filling my entire being. I push against the other chick with all my might, but all I can manage is slow it down a little. As my unwilling backwards movement continues, the empty space below me grows bigger.

I slide down the edge but get a hold of the nest with my wings and my left leg. My grip is precarious at best and as I am dangling over the ledge, the chick is still pushing against me. Thankfully it does not realize that all it would have to do is pick off my holds one by one. Instead, it keeps pressing its head against my body. My muscles strain, unwilling to let go of the nest, but unable to endure much longer.

My right wing loses its grip and falls to my side. I try to force it back up, but I am too weak to even lift my limbs at this point. Meanwhile the cuckoo moves its upper body over the edge for the final push.

The other chick disappears and a silent darkness envelops me. I press forward, my mind still set on fighting the backwards push. The lid above me rattles and is quickly opened. I try to escape but slump onto the ground next to the timepod. It takes me a second to get used to working muscle memory again. I no longer need to flail around my arms uncontrollably.

As I am on my hands and knees, taking deep breaths, I can feel the scientists at the periphery of my consciousness. Chris is rushing to my side, partly trying to lift me up. He says something to me that I do not care to make out in my current state.

Just a few seconds longer and I might be dead.
Edited by Flisch, Jun 11 2016, 08:15 PM.
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C:\Users\qross\Documents\PalaeoNotes\Johnson_2019_12_03.doc
 
Timeframe: 131 mya - 139 mya
Era: Early Cretaceous
Session Length: 56 min
Location: Forest

Today's session was another close one. I haven't seen Johnson this distressed before, not even after the trip on November 26th, when he was heavily injured. I asked him if he wants to postpone the lesson for the Jurassic and instead have one or two more trips in the Cretaceous, but he declined. He told me that he got through worse, when there was no way of delaying things. I guess he has a point there.

At any rate, today's trip offered some valuable insight into the reproduction strategies of the ancestors of true birds. From the description of the adult individual he encountered, his animal seemed to be a member of the enantiornithes, as it looked mostly like a modern bird except for the fact that it possessed a narrow snout with teeth rather than a beak.

Johnson meanwhile was put in the body of a chick, one in the process of hatching. That means he started inside the egg and had to make his way out. This must be a most fascinating thing to experience. Like birds and reptiles, the chick had an egg tooth to help it puncture the shell.

Interestingly the nest was built into a tree, like modern birds do. There has not been any evidence that enantiornithes would build arboreal nests. The only nesting fossil I know of was several nesting mounds in a colony on the ground. Of course, it probably shouldn't be that surprising, considering that the enantiornithes are a rather large group, so different nesting strategies are to be expected. Plus, even squirrels build arboreal nests, so it's not even exclusive to birds.

Of course it should be noted that the nest was not like a run of the mill passerine's cup nest. Instead the animals picked a natural depression in a tree and padded it with feathers. According to Johnson, there did not appear to be any sort of construction or even sculpting involved. It makes me wonder if this particular nest setup was the default. I cannot imagine horizontal knotholes to be that common to allow for an entire species to nest in these exclusively. I personally suspect that the species used any sort of crevasses and holes in trees to nest.

To go with the "somewhat familiar, but not quite" theme, both the development of the young and the brood care were slightly off. Although the chicks hatched in a nest and supposedly stayed in there until fully fledged, they were still remarkably well-developed as soon as they had hatched. Not only did they have fully-developed plumage, but were also able to open their eyes, both of which are usually associated with precocial birds. Additionally the birds were not fed beak to beak by the parent "bird". Rather, the collected insects and worms were dropped onto the nest floor, letting the chicks snatch up the food by themselves. All this could mean that the altricial hatching was a rather recent evolution in this particular species and many features were still hold-overs of a precocial history.

What throws a little wrench into this theory on the other hand is the fact that, in Johnson's clutch, there was a brood parasite, which sounded eerily similar to a modern cuckoo in terms of behaviour. Just like its modern counterpart, the chick hatched slightly bigger and stronger than the others and began to shove them out of the nest, leaving all food for the nest invader.

Brood parasitism is a very specialized behaviour and only makes sense if altricial nesting strategies are common enough. This means that the change from precocial to altricial in the host species may not be as recent as it seems. Or maybe the brood parasite evolved alongside the altricial species.

Whatever the case may be, this might be one of the first species of birds or almost-birds to have altricial young.
Edited by Flisch, Jun 14 2016, 02:45 PM.
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