Zan’s Prehistoric World Notes: I’ve thought about it and will be doing snippets, or scenes, in-between full episodes. Narrative: “Hey, I think I found it,” Bezil shouted. He was proudly holding up a part from one of the derelicts laying scattered about the old spaceport junkyard. Bali ran over and inspected the part, then smacked his twin brother on the head. “You bone skull, that’s a water can.” It hadn’t taken Zan long to begin disassembling the Dart’s engine and laying it out on the garage floor. Tarlock had walked out to the garage and stared in amazement at what the boy had done. Zan had found some colored chalk and had carefully drawn assembly guide diagrams on the ground; the lines covered every inch of the garage floor. Tarlock’s eyes had carefully followed all the intricate color coded lines. Zan had not only carefully drawn a diagram on the ground as he disassembled the engine, but had color coded the diagram according to how badly damaged a part was. Zan had outlined each engine part, down to the smallest screw in red, blue, green, with white guidelines showing the relationship of each part to the next. Tarlock had walked over to where his newest son was sitting cross-legged on the ground sketching in a note book. He had looked over Zan’s shoulder and realized that his foster son was sketching out each part that he would need to make the Dart fly again. Tarlock had then gone to the Spaceport’s library archive and dug up all the diagrams and tech manuals on a Dart Ship he could find and given them to Zan. Another week after that and Zan had enlisted the help of his brothers, given them each a sheet out of his notebook and the boy’s were now at the old junkyard searching for the parts drawn on each of their pieces of paper. “I found one,” Talur exclaimed holding up the engine part he had found. Zan ran over to inspect it. The part matched the sketch; it was a coolant inverter and appeared to be in good shape. “We have another match,” Zan shouted out and dropped the part in a box with the other matches they had found. Tarlock was standing next to his car and watched as Zan dropped another part in the box. He wasn’t so sure Zan wouldn’t be able to get that broken Dart to fly. As a father he had watched many of his son’s wild adventures play themselves harmless out, but he had never seen such single minded determination before. “Zan, come over here,” Tarlock called out to his son. “Yes father,” Zan responded and ran over to the car. Zan’s face beamed with happiness and purpose. “I think you might actually get that Dart to work,” Tarlock began. “I will,” Zan stated. Tarlock nodded and continued, “and that is dangerous.” Zan’s smile faded, “Are you going to take the Dart away from me?” “No,” Tarlock assured him. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” “You scared me father,” Zan sighed with relief. “This is for you,” Tarlock said as he handed Zan a large thick envelope. “I had to get you an age exception, but you start tomorrow.” “Start what?” Zan asked. “Flight lessons,” Tarlock smiled. “Listen carefully. You will start on a single engine prop and work your way up, and under no condition are you to ever try to fly that Dart until you have been rated on it and been given a pilot’s license.” Zan couldn’t speak, he was just jumping back and forth making strangling sounds and then shot off like a bolt of lightening to tell his brothers.