HOME | DD

Description
Scene from the upcoming sequel to my novel "The Outsider"

Ruthie Burns received and e-mail from her boss instructing her to sign for two overnight special delivery boxes containing fossils from western Wyoming. That e-mail was accompanied by digital photos of an exposed embankment that certainly looked interesting. It was something unexpected from Longbow County, both the clam fossils and the formation itself.

For years geologists knew that there were some Cretaceous-era sediments in the area, but so far nothing had been discovered that would have been noteworthy. Deep underground there were some oil deposits, but anything of possible scientific interest had long since weathered away, leaving nothing but desolate high desert. The paltry fossil record of southwestern Wyoming was not nearly as interesting as what had been found in places like Dinosaur National Monument to the south, or the Hell Creek geological formation that lay hundreds of kilometers to the northeast. A few digs in the Longbow County area during the 1960s always seemed to be futile efforts, so paleontologists had long since given that area a pass to explore elsewhere. The long-assumed dearth of geologic history from the area made the exceptional contents of the Longbow County boxes more interesting to the department.

Ruthie Burns was tasked with examining the shipment, because she was particularly talented at identifying fossils. She had a photographic memory of taxonomy and paleo-biology. She had another talent that was important in her field, a vivid imagination that led her to sympathize with extinct organisms and visualize how they would have lived and interacted with each other. It was as though she could see ancient environments, that her imagination could teleport her through time.

The researcher first looked at the clamshell impressions. They were indeed from an extinct lineage of upper-Maastrichtian sphaerium beckmani, but they were larger and better-preserved than any specimens she had ever seen before. She speculated, and hoped, that their size might indicate an new sub-species. These were great. What else might be in that pile of smashed-up shale? What else might still be buried in that cliffside?

Ruthie then examined the two samples of shale layers. She separated the lighter middle layer and noted a multitude of grayish-white specks that looked like grains of sand. However, under a hand lens, it turned out they were tiny spheres and elongated glass droplets. Her heart jumped. She was looking at hundreds of microtektites, tiny blobs of glass that form when molten rock is ejected into the air by an asteroid impact, and subsequently falls back to Earth in a solidifying drizzle.

"That ranch-kid was right. This looks like a K-Pg layer."

Ruthie had a tendency to talk to herself whenever she thought no one else was around, a quirk that had started when she was a teenager. She had managed to tone it down when she was with her former boyfriend, when she had a social circle, and was working as a model. But the habit never went away completely. Occasionally she'd say something embarrassing out loud and had to explain herself. Fortunately, those oral flubs were relatively rare, back in the days when she was surrounded by people who cared about her.

Now that it was no longer restrained by social interaction, the self-talking habit had re-enforced itself. Over the past three years, Ruthie Burns had spent most of her time alone, either analyzing fossils in empty labs or wandering around isolated deposits of ancient sediments by herself. She was used to being alone and became her own conversation companion. Other people in the geology department knew about the self-talking quirk and found it extremely creepy. However, no one thought about getting rid of her because her insights and questions about ancient life added real value to research projects. The most convenient way of handling the increasingly odd woman was to put her on projects where she'd work alone, then let her write up her research to publish under the DSU label. She was becoming a loner and had no problem taking on projects that kept her isolated for weeks on end.

"Definitely a meteor-hit. But which one? Looks like I'll have to run it through Jenkins."

Jenkins was another department oddity. He was as knowledgeable with operating spectrometers as Ruthie was with taxonomy. He also possessed talent for writing detailed reports in eloquent prose that any educated lay-person could easily understand. However, he was severely autistic, to the point that talking with him in a normal manner was difficult for the average person. He really didn't like talking in person at all, in fact. If someone needed analysis from him, it was easier to send an email (he didn't do text messaging), leave the sample on a table next to his door with written instructions, knock, and walk away. He'd retrieve the sample, conduct his analysis, send a response with a PDF of the report, and leave the original sample with a printed summary on the table for the requestor to pick up.

Ruthie went through the usual routine of e-mailing her reclusive co-worker, dropping off the sample, waiting for the response, and then retrieving her sample. During the entire procedure she never saw Jenkins or tried speaking with him. The responding report was several pages long and included several graphs along with the details of multiple tests. However, she really only had one question, and he was kind enough to not bury it. The very first line was the one that told her exactly what she wanted to know:

Age of sample: approximately 65.95 million years (margin of error: 40,000 years).

Ruthie was hit with an anxiety attack. A flood of evidence was in front of her: the clams, the shale samples, and the report. Everything indicated there was a significant fossil bed at the Dumfries ranch, just waiting for a team of competent paleontologists to explore it. She drafted a memo to the vice-chairperson, pleading to immediately send a research team from the DSU Geology Department to Wyoming to conduct an initial on-site inspection. Also, the university would have to do everything possible to secure legal control over the Cascabel Mesa site as soon as possible.

Description
Scene from the upcoming sequel to my novel "The Outsider"

Ruthie Burns received and e-mail from her boss instructing her to sign for two overnight special delivery boxes containing fossils from western Wyoming. That e-mail was accompanied by digital photos of an exposed embankment that certainly looked interesting. It was something unexpected from Longbow County, both the clam fossils and the formation itself.

For years geologists knew that there were some Cretaceous-era sediments in the area, but so far nothing had been discovered that would have been noteworthy. Deep underground there were some oil deposits, but anything of possible scientific interest had long since weathered away, leaving nothing but desolate high desert. The paltry fossil record of southwestern Wyoming was not nearly as interesting as what had been found in places like Dinosaur National Monument to the south, or the Hell Creek geological formation that lay hundreds of kilometers to the northeast. A few digs in the Longbow County area during the 1960s always seemed to be futile efforts, so paleontologists had long since given that area a pass to explore elsewhere. The long-assumed dearth of geologic history from the area made the exceptional contents of the Longbow County boxes more interesting to the department.

Ruthie Burns was tasked with examining the shipment, because she was particularly talented at identifying fossils. She had a photographic memory of taxonomy and paleo-biology. She had another talent that was important in her field, a vivid imagination that led her to sympathize with extinct organisms and visualize how they would have lived and interacted with each other. It was as though she could see ancient environments, that her imagination could teleport her through time.

The researcher first looked at the clamshell impressions. They were indeed from an extinct lineage of upper-Maastrichtian sphaerium beckmani, but they were larger and better-preserved than any specimens she had ever seen before. She speculated, and hoped, that their size might indicate an new sub-species. These were great. What else might be in that pile of smashed-up shale? What else might still be buried in that cliffside?

Ruthie then examined the two samples of shale layers. She separated the lighter middle layer and noted a multitude of grayish-white specks that looked like grains of sand. However, under a hand lens, it turned out they were tiny spheres and elongated glass droplets. Her heart jumped. She was looking at hundreds of microtektites, tiny blobs of glass that form when molten rock is ejected into the air by an asteroid impact, and subsequently falls back to Earth in a solidifying drizzle.

"That ranch-kid was right. This looks like a K-Pg layer."

Ruthie had a tendency to talk to herself whenever she thought no one else was around, a quirk that had started when she was a teenager. She had managed to tone it down when she was with her former boyfriend, when she had a social circle, and was working as a model. But the habit never went away completely. Occasionally she'd say something embarrassing out loud and had to explain herself. Fortunately, those oral flubs were relatively rare, back in the days when she was surrounded by people who cared about her.

Now that it was no longer restrained by social interaction, the self-talking habit had re-enforced itself. Over the past three years, Ruthie Burns had spent most of her time alone, either analyzing fossils in empty labs or wandering around isolated deposits of ancient sediments by herself. She was used to being alone and became her own conversation companion. Other people in the geology department knew about the self-talking quirk and found it extremely creepy. However, no one thought about getting rid of her because her insights and questions about ancient life added real value to research projects. The most convenient way of handling the increasingly odd woman was to put her on projects where she'd work alone, then let her write up her research to publish under the DSU label. She was becoming a loner and had no problem taking on projects that kept her isolated for weeks on end.

"Definitely a meteor-hit. But which one? Looks like I'll have to run it through Jenkins."

Jenkins was another department oddity. He was as knowledgeable with operating spectrometers as Ruthie was with taxonomy. He also possessed talent for writing detailed reports in eloquent prose that any educated lay-person could easily understand. However, he was severely autistic, to the point that talking with him in a normal manner was difficult for the average person. He really didn't like talking in person at all, in fact. If someone needed analysis from him, it was easier to send an email (he didn't do text messaging), leave the sample on a table next to his door with written instructions, knock, and walk away. He'd retrieve the sample, conduct his analysis, send a response with a PDF of the report, and leave the original sample with a printed summary on the table for the requestor to pick up.

Ruthie went through the usual routine of e-mailing her reclusive co-worker, dropping off the sample, waiting for the response, and then retrieving her sample. During the entire procedure she never saw Jenkins or tried speaking with him. The responding report was several pages long and included several graphs along with the details of multiple tests. However, she really only had one question, and he was kind enough to not bury it. The very first line was the one that told her exactly what she wanted to know:

Age of sample: approximately 65.95 million years (margin of error: 40,000 years).

Ruthie was hit with an anxiety attack. A flood of evidence was in front of her: the clams, the shale samples, and the report. Everything indicated there was a significant fossil bed at the Dumfries ranch, just waiting for a team of competent paleontologists to explore it. She drafted a memo to the vice-chairperson, pleading to immediately send a research team from the DSU Geology Department to Wyoming to conduct an initial on-site inspection. Also, the university would have to do everything possible to secure legal control over the Cascabel Mesa site as soon as possible.