Dragons Teeth Crichton 2017 (WWT)

Around the Fire
Each evening, when the sunlight was fading and the light was soft, making the sculptured terrain look
less stark, Cope reviewed with them the finds of the day, and spoke of the lost world in which these
giant animals roamed.
“Cope could speak like an orator when he chose to,” noted Sternberg, “and of an evening, the dead
gray rocks became dense green jungle, the trickling streams vast vegetation-choked lakes, the clear
sky turned close with hot rainclouds, and indeed the entire barren landscape before our eyes was
transformed into an ancient swamp. It was mysterious, when he spoke that way. We felt goose-bumps
and a chill on the spine.”
In part, that chill came from the lingering tinge of heresy. Unlike Marsh, Cope was not an open
Darwinian, but he appeared to believe in evolution, and certainly in great antiquity. Morton was going
to be a preacher, like his father. He asked Cope, “as a man of science,” how old the world was.
Cope said he had no idea, in the mild way he had when he was concealing something. It was the
opposite side of his snapping temper, this almost lazy indifference, this tranquil, calm voice. This
mildness overcame Cope whenever the discussion moved into areas that might be considered
religious. A devout Quaker (despite his pugilistic temperament), he found it difficult to tread on the
religious feelings of others.
Was the world, Morton asked, six thousand years old, as Bishop Ussher had said?
A great many serious and informed people still believed this date, despite Darwin and the fuss that
the new scientists who called themselves “geologists” were making. After all, the trouble with what
the scientists said was that they were always saying something different. This year one idea, next year
something else. Scientific opinion was ever changing, like the fashions of women’s dress, while the
firm and fixed date 4004 BC invited the attention of those seeking greater verity.
No, Cope said, he did not think the world was so recent.
How old, then? asked Morton. Six thousand years? Ten thousand years?
No, Cope said, still tranquil.
Then how much older?
A thousand thousand times as old, said Cope, his voice still dreamy.
“Surely you’re joking!” Morton exclaimed. “Four billion years? That is patently absurd.”
“I know of no one who was there at the time,” Cope said mildly.
“But what about the age of the sun?” Morton said, with a smug look.