Chapter 13: Dreams and Dinosaurs

November 19, 1992 – Four Seasons Beverly Hills

9:45 AM PST

The soft hum of the air conditioning filled the room, but it did little to quell the mounting tension that weighed heavily on Jake Morris's chest. The warm California sun streamed through the large windows, casting an orange glow on the polished mahogany table where he sat with Michael Crichton and the rest of his team. The Four Seasons Beverly Hills—a place usually associated with luxury and celebration—felt like a battleground to Jake today. It was no longer a symbol of success but a reminder of the stakes he was facing. He was a young writer, an outsider to Hollywood, looking to carve his name into the fabric of one of the most groundbreaking franchises in film history. If he succeeded here, it wouldn't just be his career that changed—it would be the story he'd been dreaming of for years.

Michael Crichton, the mastermind behind Jurassic Park, was the first to break the silence. The man had the intellectual presence of a titan, and though his demeanor was calm and collected, Jake knew better than to mistake this for indifference. Crichton had seen countless ideas come and go, and if his idea didn't resonate, Jake could be just another name on the reject pile. But Jake wasn't here for rejection. He wasn't here for any half-measures. He was here to make history.

"So, Jake," Crichton said slowly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his voice smooth but laced with an unspoken challenge. "This character you've proposed—Ethan Reyes—what exactly does he bring to the table? What purpose does he serve in the grand narrative of Jurassic Park?"

Jake felt his heart rate quicken as the question settled in. This was it. The question that would define the direction of his career and the future of this story. He knew the answer, but it was more than just a pitch—it was the essence of his belief. With a calm breath, he straightened his posture, preparing to give his answer the weight it deserved.

"Ethan Reyes is more than just a character," Jake began, his voice steady but full of conviction. "He's a symbol. He represents the future—the future of not just genetics or science, but humanity's relationship with technology. Ethan isn't just a teenage prodigy; he's a living, breathing reflection of the changing world around us. A boy who sees through the illusions of control and order that Hammond and the adults cling to. A boy who isn't bound by the same limitations."

Crichton's eyes narrowed slightly, and Jake could tell he was processing, weighing the implications of what Jake had just said. For a brief moment, the room was quiet, and Jake's thoughts wandered. He thought about his own journey—his dreams, his ambitions, and how this character, this idea, was something that had been born from the very struggles he'd faced in his life. He had poured his soul into Ethan, and now it was all on the line. If they saw Ethan the way he did, it could change everything.

"Go on," Crichton urged, his fingers tapping on the edge of the table.

"Ethan represents a new kind of intelligence, one that is deeply intertwined with technology. He's not just reacting to the dinosaurs or the chaos around him. He's understanding it in a way that no one else can. While the adults like Grant, Sattler, and Malcolm are consumed by their philosophical debates about chaos and control, Ethan's figuring out the systems. He's a product of the digital age—a world where kids don't just consume knowledge—they understand it, manipulate it."

Kathleen Kennedy, who had been silently observing the conversation, leaned forward. Her sharp eyes assessed Jake's every word, calculating the potential risks and rewards. "I see what you're saying," she said cautiously, her voice full of the practicality she was known for. "But this is a massive risk, Jake. We're already dealing with a complex narrative. Grant and Malcolm are grounded in the adult world of skepticism and scientific discovery. Adding a teenager into this mix—it could disrupt the balance. It could shift the focus."

David Koepp, the screenwriter, chimed in, his tone thoughtful but skeptical. "I agree. It's not that I don't see the potential, Jake. But we're already dealing with heavy themes—genetic engineering, human arrogance, the unpredictability of nature. A kid who's a prodigy in genetics might work, but will the audience buy it? Is it organic to the story?"

Jake could feel the weight of their concerns pressing down on him. They weren't just rejecting the idea—they were rejecting his vision. His dream. But this was no time for hesitation. He couldn't back down now. He had to fight for what he believed in.

"I'm not saying Ethan is the hero of the story," Jake replied firmly. "He doesn't save the day. He doesn't get the glory. But he's integral to the themes we're exploring. He's the lens through which we see the failures of the adults. While they're grappling with philosophical ideas, Ethan's already thinking about how to survive. He's not bound by the same rules. He's untested, but he's insightful. He doesn't have the experience that Grant or Malcolm has, but he understands the systems in ways they don't."

Crichton raised an eyebrow. "You're suggesting that a teenager could outsmart the adults?"

Jake hesitated for a moment, but then pressed on, his voice quieter now, but carrying the weight of his words. "I'm not saying Ethan is smarter than them. I'm saying he's different. The world is different. We're living in a time where kids have access to more information than any of us had growing up. Ethan doesn't just understand the technology—he's lived it. He sees the cracks in the system before anyone else."

There was a pause, a heavy silence that stretched out as each person in the room processed what Jake had said. The air felt thick with the weight of their thoughts, and Jake could feel the tension curling in his stomach. Would they accept this? Would they understand?

David Koepp broke the silence, his tone now more contemplative. "You're asking us to trust that a character like Ethan can exist within the story's structure without overshadowing the main conflict. That's no small feat."

Kathleen Kennedy folded her arms, her fingers tapping a rhythm against her bicep. "And how does he relate to the dinosaurs? What does he add to the story beyond being another kid in the mix?"

Jake felt his pulse quicken, but he answered without hesitation. "Ethan is the perfect person to highlight the idea that humanity cannot control nature. Hammond thinks he can create the perfect park—he believes he can control everything. But Ethan sees through that. He sees that no matter how advanced the technology is, the dinosaurs, the chaos—they cannot be controlled. He's the one who understands the danger in a way that the adults can't. He's a warning, a foreshadowing of the failure that's to come."

There was another pause, longer this time. The others exchanged glances, each person silently weighing the merit of Jake's pitch. Finally, Crichton spoke again, his voice calm but thoughtful. "You're passionate, Jake. I'll give you that. But passion isn't enough to make a character work. You've got a good idea, but we need to know how Ethan fits in organically. He can't just be a plot device. He can't just be a kid who's good with computers. He needs depth. He needs to evolve."

Kathleen Kennedy nodded slowly. "You're asking a lot, Jake. But you've got potential here. If we do this right, Ethan could become a memorable part of the story. But we'll need to see more. We'll need to see the connections between Ethan and the rest of the cast, especially Hammond."

Gerald R. Molen, who had been silent for most of the meeting, spoke up now, his voice low and steady. "This is a big risk. We're not just making a movie, Jake. We're making history. If Ethan works, it'll elevate the entire film. If he doesn't, it could fall apart. You've got a vision, but now we need to see if it holds up."

Jake took a deep breath, his heart racing. "I understand. But I believe in Ethan. He's more than just a kid. He's the future. He's the voice of a generation that doesn't just accept the status quo—they challenge it."

The room fell silent again. For a moment, Jake wasn't sure if they were going to approve the character or dismiss him altogether. But then, Crichton looked up, his eyes sharp with an unreadable expression. "Alright, Jake," he said, folding his hands on the table. "We'll give it a shot. But this is your chance to prove that Ethan belongs in Jurassic Park. Don't waste it."

Jake exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. The battle wasn't over, but he had won the first round. Ethan Reyes would be a part of Jurassic Park—for now.