"Finished," Hannah said as she typed the last period with a flourish. "Last night's adventure as we lived it."

"Did you mention the saber-tooths?"

"I fudged," she admitted. "I said they were big cats that looked like saber-tooths. I usually don't run anything without two sources, and I try not to be one of them. Let me ask you something."

"Sure."

"If the tigers are traveling southeast, their trip to the beach was pretty far off course for them."

"Very."

"Why do you think they went there?"

"I'm not sure," Grand admitted.

"What do you think about this idea then," she asked, "that the cats might have been looking for something familiar. These tigers wake up, things are totally different from what they were. The ocean could have been the only smell they recognized. Maybe they went to check it out."

"It's possible," Grand agreed.

"That could also be why they attacked the fish truck," Hannah said. "It was a familiar smell."

"The saber-tooths could also have mistaken it for a giant herbivore," Grand said. He slid the door open a little further and watched me workers. "The truck growled, it smelled of fish, and it moved quickly. Modern cats like to attack running prey."

"Why?"

"If prey is running they're already scared of something, possibly a fire, army ants, that sort of thing," Grand said. "Which means they probably aren't going to pay close attention to something that's stalking them. Prehistoric herbivores were probably the same."

"I see," Hannah said. "What else do we know about these animals in particular?"

"Not a lot," Grand admitted. "As I said, we suspect that saber-tooths were territorial. We tend to find their fossil remains clustered in areas that were once plains or fertile valleys."

"Why did they become extinct? Changes in the environment because of the Ice Age?"

"Only partly," Grand said. "They may have been forced out of many areas when prehistoric humans crossed from Asia to North America over the Bering land bridge."

"That's when the Bering Strait was frozen so you could literally walk from Asia to here."

"Correct."

"So migrating humans hunted them out of existence?"

"Not directly," Grand said. "We believe they preyed on many of the same herbivores for food. Eventually, humans outnumbered them and overran Southern California."

"Starving them to death."

"Effectively," Grand said.

"Why didn't they hunt us?"

"We suspect they did," Grand said, "which is why we accelerated the invention of weapons to protect ourselves."

"The first arms race," Hannah said. She shook her head. "I still don't see how people fought those things with primitive weapons."

"You and I did it in the pipe."

"We had a flood and a branch to help us," Hannah said.

"If it hadn't been those things it would have been something else," Grand said.

"Such as?"

"A hubcap, a bottle, our own shoes tied together and used as a bolo or garrote. There's always something."

"Really? Suppose all you had was a bunch of leaves," she said. "What would you do then?"

Grand thought for a moment. "Stand up."

"What?"

"Just stand up," Grand said.

Hannah did.

The scientist took a piece of paper from the stack in her printer tray. He crumpled it.

"Pretend you're one of the cats," he said.

Hannah made her fingers into little claws and growled.

Grand threw the crumpled piece of paper to the right, toward the sliding glass door. Hannah looked at it. When she did, Grand reached to the other side and pulled a letter opener from a stack of mail. He flipped the blade in his hand and held it to her throat.

She recoiled, then frowned. "That's cheating."

"Why?"

"Because there wouldn't have been a letter opener on a mountaintop."

"It could have been a chunk of rock."

"To do what with, bop me on the nose?"

"That, or stab you," Grand said. "Cut your throat. Many of the shales up there can be split with a good whack on another rock. The edge you'd have would be scalpel-sharp."

Hannah sat back down. "I still say it wasn't fair. You didn't use the piece of paper as a weapon. You used it as a distraction."

"The best weapons are nonlethal, psychological ones," Grand insisted. He replaced the letter opener on the pile. "According to leather pouches I've found in ancient graves, prehistoric hunters carried what we call 'startlements,' which may have been used to distract predators. Crushed leaves or feathers to catch their eye, ground bone to make them sneeze. Anything to gain time so they could run or grab a weapon or cry for help. Maybe next time I won't need the letter opener, just the crumpled paper to remind you that I can get a letter opener. Many evolutionary scientists believe that something simple like that-a crumpled piece of white paper-can change the course of genetics. If you preyed on butterflies, they might notice your reaction to the paper. Through genetic mutation they might slowly turn white to intimidate you."

"Are you saying that living things can actually will mutation?"

"We don't understand the mechanism, but it happens," Grand said. "The perception of threat, the ability to respond, and the desire to survive-they're all directed from in here," he tapped his temple.

"I guess if you can make yourself sick or get ulcers, anything's possible," Hannah said. "So with any luck I'll grow myself a sixth finger on each hand to help myself type faster."

"And then your brain will start to think faster and then you'll need a seventh finger," Grand said. "That's how it happens."

"I'll take that faster brain now," Hannah said. "What about those Chumash paintings you were talking about? Not the ones of the volcanoes but the eyes. What do you think the Chumash were telling us?"

"I don't know," Grand said. "The paintings in the upper cave told how the cats became trapped. By volcano and glacier. I suspect the eyes in the passageway below were a Chumash 'keep out' sign. Another shaman would have understood them. The caves are full of warnings like that."

"Fascinating," she said. "The things we don't know that are all around us. It's awe-inspiring."

"It's also scary," Grand said.

"In what way?"

"I was just thinking that I'd better get in touch with Environmental Protection Agency and pest-control people."

"Why?"

"Because there were gnats in the lower cave," he said. "They were bigger and buzzier than any I'd ever encountered. I wonder if they might have been frozen with the tigers."

"Shit," Hannah said. "Prehistoric bugs."

"If they are, they can cause a serious imbalance in the insect ecology of the region."

"And what about any bacteria or viruses the tigers may be carrying?" Hannah asked.

"There's that too," Grand agreed.

There was a lot to consider, which was all the more reason to take the animals alive, to study them without obliterating whatever they might be host to. Grand had to make that his immediate priority.

Hannah read what she'd written, then E-mailed the story to the copy editor. "This is all completely amazing," she said. "What are you going to do?"

"I was just thinking that," Grand said. "Gearhart probably won't do anything else until the National Guard arrives."

"That'd be my guess," Hannah said. "Otherwise, why call them out?"

"I want to make some calls, see if Joseph Tumamait had any luck, and also find someone to cover my classes. Then I want to get to Gearhart, try and talk to him, explain why we need to capture the cats alive."

"You haven't got a prayer," Hannah said. "Besides, if those animals did kill Officer Lyon then this is now a personal matter."

"But won't the operation be out of Gearhart's jurisdiction if it crosses the county line?"

"Technically, yes," Hannah said. "That's probably why he called in the Army National Guard. He has friends there. They'll cut him slack if this spills into other counties."