THE SECOND container arrived right on time, flattening the brush and ferns beneath it as it shimmered and its atoms conjoined into being.

Standing with his hands on his hips, like he was personally responsible for the appearance of it (and, in a way, he was), Ichabod grinned and plunged his hand forward. "Let's get to work!" He bellowed, turning to fix the marines behind him with a burning glare. And if anyone messes up, he vowed, his fingers curling into his bare skin at the thought, then they'll join Tina at the edge of the marsh.

Ichabod supposed he was meant to feel some remorse for leaving the girl for dead, though the only regret he felt was for the missed opportunity to use her skills as an architect. It sure would've been valuable, especially since he didn't trust half the marines, and the other half were so stupid he could trust them anyway.

They were no engineering freaks, he reckoned, though he would have to make do. Thank God — thank his father, to be exact, but like Ichabod would ever do that — the container had arrived, and at exactly the right moment, too.

The supporting members of the future, adapted, and far larger TimePod awaited back at the refuge camp, though all the tools they needed awaited inside the second toy box in front of him. Despite the reservations he had for his minions, his pulse thrummed with excitement. Everything was going exactly according to plan, and they were dead on schedule.

Win the marines' trust. Take eight days to destroy all rebels. Let the plan continue on thereafter.

Okay, Ichabod conceded as he stepped forward as the marines got the container's door open. He recoiled at the screech of metal against metal, his ears still sensitive. Maybe everything hadn't gone exactly the right way ... but Lale and Amelia and their gang were virtually powerless, though it was stupid to undermine them.

Sentimentalism can lead people to do rash things, Ichabod reflected as he pushed the door back, letting the bright late morning light of the Jurassic filter onto the high-power tools and contraptions before him; refrigeration administrators for the blood, and even more metallic beams to support the container.

Ichabod knew that from first hand, though dinosaurs were no things to be sentimental about.

He stepped back and forced himself to look more subdued than he really was. "Get the EEG!" Ichabod ordered. "Use the magnets to drag the container to the camp."

A few marines scurried away, and others began removing the tools and solar panels within. Generators blinked at Ichabod, their lights activated as they were moved. Ichabod grinned again, but turned away so that his fellow recruits couldn't see his glee.

Maybe fathers are good for some things, anyway.

The reality that they had absolutely nothing to fight with was as dismal as the Titanic's lack of lifeboats — utterly suicidal unless Lale could do something about it.

"Luca was making the disabling device," Tina insisted as he, Amelia, and James had a team talk. Lale tried not to show his skepticism, especially since the two women in front of him, both injured, desperately needed the reassurance of a Plan B. He still couldn't stop the air from flaring out of his nose at Tina's words.

It wasn't like he distrusted Luca, exactly ... more like he was concerned Luca wasn't going to finish his little project, especially since he most likely thought his little bonnie-boo Tina was dead. He knew firsthand how that could affect any guy's workmanship, with a guilty glance at Amelia.

The other recruits (which Tina had mentioned were being called 'rebels' by Ichabod, which he guessed fitted) buzzed like nervous moths drawn to flame towards them, which made Lale's spine tingle with annoyance. Don't they have anything better to do? He thought venomously, screwing up his eyes as someone moved past in his peripheral vision, obviously trying to eavesdrop. Either way, the news they're gonna hear won't be the news they wanna hear.

"I'm not sending our people in there without weapons," Lale pointed out, his words angrier than he'd expected. He tried to clear his head of thoughts of eavesdroppers, and lifted a hand to his chin to brush away a drop of sweat.

The humidity seemed to be ever-increasing, and Lale was dismayed to find stubble line his face. His appearance hadn't been the biggest thing on his mind, but to realize how unkept he was ... It only worsened his mood.

"Even we only have spears and rocks," Lale added, just as James opened his mouth. The fellow marine shut it with a click, and they stood — with Amelia and Tina leaning, mostly — in the shadow of a crowned fern. He knew the others were realizing just as he had already that their situation was hopeless.

Lale continued to finger his face while Tina, Amelia and James stared into space. Without a mirror, he tried to map his bristled appearance out in his head; a stupid tactic to try and get his mind off of the problem at hand. If only I had a razor, Lale thought mournfully.

Amelia spoke up, her voice immediately pricking his ears. She sounded exhausted, and drawn, and Lale shot her a glance in concern. Had her leg grown infected? He knew well enough how dangerous such injuries could be, and in heated climates like the Jurassic one, where bacteria could grow everywhere ... He cursed himself for not asking her sooner about her well-being; for being too much of a wussy dagger to wonder whether she needed help.

Amelia's face had lost its rosy tinge, which sent a pang of alarm through his chest. How could I not have noticed?

"We have no choice," she murmured. She lifted her head, as if defying Lale's worrying thoughts. Amelia's eyes locked on his, though she looked away almost immediately. He fought against a sigh burbling in his lungs.

"Ichabod's going to ship the DNA —" It had been relieving to hear that Ichabod was planning to send back dinosaur DNA, not entire dinosaurs, back to 2039, but not by much —"back to the world we were meant to be saving." Amelia's words were stronger, and Lale listened quietly, secretly grateful she was giving the bolstering speech, and not him.

"We can't let that happen. We just can't. Our friends ... our family ... No one will be safe. And then what d'you think will happen to this time travel scheme? It'll be shut down by some do-gooders, and we'll be stranded here." Her words had soured, and Lale shut his eyes at the image.

Just like Bradley.

Lale opened his eyes as Amelia quieted. "We all know that we're going to fight against him," he said finally, hitting the nail on the head. There was no use in beating around the bush — not when lives were at stake. He hoped the others would appreciate that.

"But that time's coming sooner. Without any inside intel from the camp, we need to assume when Luca'll be ready to launch the disabling device."

Lale looked imploringly to Tina, softening his gaze. He knew the other young woman was injured, but they needed whatever information she had, and he couldn't let Amelia guilt-trip him for doing so, either.

Tina sighed and rubbed her face. "He'd only just started. I don't even know if he has what he needs. Without me, it could take longer."

It was about what Lale had been expecting. It was still a blow for his cynical thoughts to become reality, though, and James beside him released a soft "Dank."

He'd been thinking something worse.

"I'd say about four days." Tina met Lale's gaze again, though her mouth was twisted in uncertainty. "Tops, a week."

We don't have a week, Lale's heart dropped to his boots in despair. Behind him, there were murmurs. This time, he couldn't contain his frustration, and he twisted on the gossipers, heat flaring through his nostrils.

"Why don't you all just join in on the conversation?!" Lale called out, his temper uncoiling like a cobra. He grinned in fake humor as the recruits turned away guiltily, and tightened his hands into fists. Lale felt his control slipping, on everything.

Not just his life; but the lives of everybody else.

A tentative hand touched his arm, and Lale turned around again, Amelia suddenly at his side. Her eyes were wide, and her palm colder than he would've expected. Lale felt like a carpet was being pulled out underneath his feet, and he was too tired to hold a grudge with the woman before him. The exhaustion swept away the irritation.

"Sorry," he said. Lale tried to clear his thoughts as Amelia took her hand away, and the heat and sweat returned. "We'll talk more on this later. James, come with me."

The other man nodded. Lale looked from Amelia to Tina, feeling his throat close. What could he say to two women who might end up dead from infection?

You can't think that, Lale reprimanded himself, furrowing his brow at his internal admonishment.

"Stay safe," he eventually offered. There was nothing else he could say. Tina looked to Amelia, who gave a small nod.

Lale turned to the waiting James, ignoring the feeling that he hadn't said enough. Hadn't shown enough. "We need to get some weapons together," Lale told his fellow marine. "Anything we can."

Nothing that can match against some volts-guns, he added internally as he let James take the lead towards a gathering group of Learners, who eyed them like wary sheep. But then again, nothing we have will.

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