Combeferre is grinning. "Joly, do you realize where we just were?" He leans over and looks at the beetle in unconcealed delight.

"We were in the Cretaceous Period! Instead of bringing a pterosaur to us, our device sent us to the pterosaurs!"

Combeferre fumbles for his notepad--he still writes notes in pen, even with all the tablets and computers accessible in Milliways. It's an unscientific conservatism, to be sure, but habit is habit, and in fact, a ballpoint pen is new technology to him. So he feels he's being brave enough. He's gently introducing the dawn of progress to his own writing habits. He can do that for himself, even if that wasn't possible for France or the world.

"It may be a coptoclavid--it's hard to tell..."

He begins to scribble.