Jurassic Park Prologue
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General) North American (US General American - GenAM) North American (US Midwest- Chicago, Great Lakes)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
prologue, The bite of the Rapture. The tropical rain fell in drenching sheets, hammering the corrugated roof of the clinic building, roaring down the metal gutters, splashing on the ground in a torrent Roberta Carter side and stared out the window from the clinic. She could hardly see the beach or the ocean beyond, cloaked in a low fog. This wasn't what she had expected when she had come to the fishing village of Bahia and Osco, on the west coast of Costa Rica, to spend two months as a visiting physician. Bobby Carter had expected son and relax ation after two gruelling years of residency and emergency medicine at Michael Reese in Chicago. She had been in Bahia in Osco, now for three weeks, and it had rained every day. Everything else was fine. She liked the isolation of Bahia Anasco and the friendliness of its people. Costa Rica had one of the 20 best medical systems in the world, and even in this remote coastal village, the clinic was well maintained, amply supplied. Her paramedic, Manuel Letter Gone, was intelligent and well trained. Bobby was able to practice a level of medicine equal to what she had practiced in Chicago. But the rain, the constant, unending rain. Across the examining room, men well cocked his head. Listen, he said. Believe me, I hear it, Bobby said. No, listen. And then she caught it. Another sound blended with the rain, a deeper rumble that built and emerged until it was clear, the rhythmic thumping of a helicopter she thought they can to be flying in weather like this. But the sound built steadily, and then the helicopter burst low through the ocean fog and roared overhead, circled and came back. She saw the helicopter swing back over the water near the fishing boats than is sideways to the rickety wooden dock and back toward the beach. It was looking for a place to land. It was a big bellied Sikorsky with a blue stripe on the side, with the words in Gen construction that was the name of the new resort on one of the offshore islands. The resort was said to be spectacular and very complicated. Many of the local people were employed in the construction, which had been going on for more than two years. Bobby could just imagine it. One of those huge American resorts with swimming pools and tennis courts, where guests could play and drink their Dockery's without having any contact with the real life of the country. Bobby wondered what was so urgent on that island that the helicopter would fly in this weather through the windshield. She saw the pilot exhale in relief. As the helicopter settled onto the wet sand of the beach, uniformed men jumped out and flung open the big side door. She heard frantic shouts in Spanish and men well nudged her. They were calling for a doctor.