Time to impress, he thought, and touched a button that removed the solar shield.
The observation deck was suddenly consumed by the Earth’s curve; minute flecks shone as starlight from the surface. He enlarged one with digital precision.
“This is the mark 2 harvester. It strips the flesh, packages the meat and buries the bones. Simply, efficiently and economically. A dinosaur can be processed in minutes.”
“If we cull too many,” an investor warned, “wont the mammals become dominant?”
Xantor waved a tentacle dismissively.
“If we haven’t found a more nutritious planet by then,” he shrugged, “we wont care what we eat.”
Link back to Julia’s Place