The Nibiru Effect

by G Sauvé

  “That will take too long,” argues Jonn.

  “We don’t have a choice.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  “There’s a way across,” reveals Korri before Jonn and Kara start arguing. “It’s both short and safe… Well, relatively safe.”

  I don’t like the sound of that, but I translate for my friends.

  “Didn’t he said the Plain of Pain can’t be crossed,” asks Jonn.

  “I said the appearance of geysers is random and thus can’t be predicted,” clarifies Korri once I’ve translated Jonn’s words.

  “How will we get across?”

  “We won’t go across,” says Korri. “We’ll go beneath.”

  “What does that mean?” asks Kara once I explain Korri’s plan.

  “Who cares?” interjects Jonn. “All that matters is that we get across and stop Avalon before she changes anything else.”

  Kara doesn’t seem pleased by her father’s bullheadedness, but she agrees to trust Korri. Before long, we’re moving again, only this time we travel alongside the Plain of Pain, not toward it.

  As we walk, I notice something I have failed to take into account until now.

  “Where’s Nibiru?” I ask Kara. I haven’t thought of it in a while, but now that we’re out in the open, I can’t help glancing at the sky in search of it. But no matter how thoroughly I scan the heavens, there’s no sign of the red planet. The fact that it’s responsible for sending us to the past still seems odd to me.

  “The time window during which Nibiru affects Earth lasts roughly fifty years," she explains. “Since we can’t see the planet now, it must mean Nibiru has only just started affecting Earth or that it’s nearing the end of its passage.”

  It makes sense. Still, I would have liked to see it as it would have proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that my friends and I truly are trapped in the past. Then again, so much has happened that refusing to believe in Nibiru is no longer an option.

  The walk lasts a little under fifteen minutes. I don’t even realize we have reached our destination until Korri comes to a stop and points at what appears to be the mouth of a tunnel. It’s roughly one metre in diameter and vanishes into the earth at a steep angle.

  “W-what’s that?” asks Jonn. He seems nervous.

  “That’s our way across,” explains Korri once I have repeated the grey-haired soldier’s question.

  I suddenly understand what Korri meant by “going beneath.” The thought of spending the next few hours in a dark tunnel doesn’t fill me with joy, but if Korri says it’s safe, that’s good enough for me. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for Jonn.

  “There’s no way I’m going in there,” he says. He seems upset, though I can’t figure out why.

  “Weren’t you the one who said we had to find Avalon before she changes something else?” I ask.

  “Shut up, Won’t!”

  “What? What did I say?”

  Jonn glares at me, but there’s something else besides anger in his eyes. It’s fear. As impossible as it seems, the muscular, grey-haired soldier is afraid of a tunnel.

  “What’s with him?” I ask Kara.

  “He’s claustrophobic.”

  That explains a lot. Not only does Jonn’s sudden change in attitude make sense, but I now understand why he refused to let the korrigans build us a burrow.

  I feel sorry for Jonn, but not sorry enough to pass up such a perfect opportunity.

  “Hold on,” I say. “Are you telling me that Jonn, the badass soldier who shoots up subway stations and jumps through time, is afraid of a little tunnel?”

  Kara tries to warn me with a shake of the head, but it’s already too late. One second Jonn is shaking like a leaf; the next he’s up in my face, cheeks red and eyes bulging.

  “What did you say?” he growls.

  “No-nothing,” I mumble.

  “That’s what I thought,” mutters Jonn as he takes a step back.

  I breathe a sigh of relief and do my best to go unnoticed as Kara gives her father a pep talk. It takes a while, but he finally agrees to enter the tunnel.

  “Ready?” asks Korri.

  “I’m ready,” I say.

  “Me too,” echoes Kara.

  Jonn merely grunts, which I believe is his way of saying he’s as ready as he will ever be.

  Korri retrieves a torch from our only remaining satchel, lights it, and enters the tunnel.

  I glance at Kara, who nods for me to go next. I hesitate for a moment before following Korri. The korrigan is so short he can walk upright, but I’m forced to shuffle forward on my hands and knees. At first, it’s a little painful, but by the time I reach Korri, the earth has grown soft.

  Kara joins us moments later, and the three of us wait for Jonn. It takes a while, but we finally see his large frame blot out the light. His shoulders barely fit through the opening, and I can tell he’s terrified, but he pushes forward without hesitation. I may not like Jonn, yet I have to respect him for overcoming his fear. I wish I had his courage.

  “What are we waiting for?” he asks. “Let’s go.”

  “Don’t lag behind,” instructs Korri. Moments later, we’re on our way.

  Within minutes, the sunlight fades, and all that remains is Korri’s torch. It illuminates enough for me to see the gap that stands between us, but I make out little else. It’s thus with a sense of unease that I progress.

  At first, Korri stops every few minutes to make sure none of us are left behind, but after a while, he manages to match our pace perfectly and leads us deeper and deeper into the bowels of the Earth. Every once in a while the ground shakes, and I’m reminded of how precarious our situation is. I feel sorry for Jonn, but he doesn’t voice a single complaint.

  The journey seems to last forever, but in reality, it lasts no more than an hour. By the time the sloped tunnel finally levels out, my arms and legs are raw, my muscles ache, and my head feels numb from the half dozen times I smacked it into a rock.

  “How much further?” I ask for the hundredth time.

  “We’re almost there,” claims Korri, though he’s said this three times already and we’re still stuck in this damn tunnel. And things only get worse when the shaft grows even narrower. It gets smaller and smaller until I have trouble advancing. Even Korri has to crouch. I wonder how Jonn will manage to get through, but there’s nothing I can do for him, so I keep going.

  Just when I think the tunnel can’t get any smaller, it does. But then it starts to expand. Before long, I’m back on my hands and knees. Soon after, I’m able to stand up. Eventually, I can walk without having to worry about banging my head on the ceiling. I glance back every so often and see Kara following me. It’s dark, so I can’t make out Jonn’s large frame, but the stomping of his boots on the packed floor tells me he’s still with us. I think.

  We keep going for a while before Korri stops.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Nothing. I just need something from the satchel.”

  I translate the korrigan’s words, and Kara steps forward, travel pack in hand.

  “Wasn’t Jonn carrying that?” I ask as Korri grabs the leather bag and starts rummaging through it.

  “He gave it to me when he had to squeeze through a tight spot,” explains Kara. I don’t recall hearing them speak, but I guess I was too focused on keeping up with Korri to notice.

  “What are you—” I begin, but my question becomes irrelevant when Korri lights the three torches he retrieved from the satchel. He hands one to me. The second one goes to Kara. The last one is given to…

  “Jonn,” says Kara.

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “My father. Where’s my father?”

  I look around, but the light produced by the additional torches is insufficient to reveal the grey-haired soldier. That can only mean one thing.

  Jonn is missing.

  Memory 42

  J onn is missing.

  I never liked the grey-haired soldier, but
now that he’s gone, I realize just how primordial he is to the success of our mission. Kara is a badass fighter, but Jonn is plain badass. Without him, we have no chance of reaching our destination in one piece.

  “Dad!” calls Kara. Her voice echoes throughout the tunnel for a moment before the dirt muffles the call. She tries again, but her cry is once more snuffed out by the earth.

  “Jonn!” I call out.

  No response.

  Kara and I continue calling out the grey-haired soldier’s name, pausing every few seconds to allow him to answer. But no amount of silence results in a reply. I can tell Kara is growing desperate by the tone of her voice. She may act calm and composed, but her father’s disappearance hits her hard.

  “I’m going to look for him,” she announces after a few minutes of infructuous hollering.

  “Are you sure?” I ask. “What if you get lost too?” I would like to say I have Kara’s best interest at heart, but the truth is I’m terrified of what will happen to me if Kara leaves and never returns.

  “We can’t just abandon him,” snaps Kara. It’s the first time I’ve seen her lose her cool with anyone other than her father. I can’t help feeling hurt, though I know her anger has nothing to do with me.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s just that—”

  “I’ll go,” says Korri. I’m not sure how he understood what we were saying, but there’s no doubt in my mind he’s fully aware of the precariousness of the situation.

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  “I can navigate the tunnel with ease because of my size,” he explains. “I’m also very fast.”

  He’s right. If anyone can find Jonn, it’s Korri.

  “All right. You can go.” I’m not sure why I say this—it’s not like I’m the leader of this expedition—but it somehow feels appropriate. Korri gives me a big smile and hands me his torch.

  “You’re very brave,” says Kara once I explain what Korri is getting ready to do. “Thank you.” She crouches and places a kiss on Korri’s forehead.

  Korri is about to depart when a shape emerges from the darkness.

  It’s Jonn.

  “Dad!” cries Kara as she rushes forward and leaps into his arms. Jonn awkwardly catches her mid-flight and holds her tight. His limbs are shaking, and there are what appear to be tear streaks running down his grimy cheeks, but I’m not about to point it out. Jonn may be an insensitive goon, but he’s a brave one.

  “What happened?” asks Kara once her father releases her.

  Jonn tries to speak, but his voice cracks. He clears his throat and tries again.

  “I got stuck.”

  Now would be a perfect time to make fun of him, but that feels way too mean. Of course, Jonn wouldn’t hesitate to laugh at me if the roles were reversed, but I’m not like him.

  “We should keep going,” says Korri.

  “He’s right,” agrees Jonn once I’ve translated the korrigan’s suggestion. “The sooner we reach our destination, the sooner we can leave this stinking place.”

  Korri leads the way. I go second. Kara insists Jonn be in third. I expect him to argue, but he comes to stand behind me and matches his pace to mine. Kara closes the walk.

  We travel for a good fifteen minutes—every so often I catch Jonn staring at his locket, and I once more find myself wondering why it means so much to him—before finally reaching an exit. The tunnel ends as abruptly as it started. One second our footsteps are dulled by the restrictive nature of the tunnel, and the next they echo throughout the massive cavern we now find ourselves in.

  My companions and I halt and take a moment to study our surroundings. While logic dictates the cavern be bathed in darkness, the truth is our torches are now useless. Puddles of molten rock riddle the floor of the cave, bathing it in an orange glow that’s both beautiful and eerie. The ceiling is so high it vanishes into the darkness, but dozens of columns can be seen jutting from the ground. They travel high into the air, disappearing into the darkness after a few metres.

  “What are those things?” asks Kara.

  I follow her gaze and find half a dozen spherical objects protruding from a nearby lava pool. They are perfectly round and roughly half a metre in diameter. Their tops are pure white, but a ring of grey lines the area where the lava touches them.

  “They’re eggs,” explains Korri once I’ve repeated Kara’s question.

  “Eggs?” What kind of animal lays eggs that size? Then again, do I really want to know?

  “Look,” says Korri, and points left. At first, I don’t understand what he’s pointing at because there’s no lava pool illuminating the area, but then I notice an orange glow slowly undulating in the darkness. Its brilliance is duller than magma and slowly moves up and down as it progresses.

  “What is that?” I ask.

  “Just watch,” says Korri.

  I stare at the glow as it moves through the darkness. After a dozen metres, it comes to a stop. It remains motionless for a moment before growing in brilliance. It’s expulsing lava. The molten rock falls to the ground and expands, engulfing the half dozen white eggs that have up until now remained bathed in darkness. But I forget all about them when the last of the lava falls to the floor, and the glow vanishes. In its place now stands an odd creature.

  It’s a maggot. A giant, white maggot. I can’t tell if it has legs, which is surprising given the fact that it measures nearly three metres in length. Its trunk is massive—nearly a metre in diameter—and muscular. Two black eyes adorn what I assume is its head.

  It takes me a moment to realize the glow I noticed earlier was, in fact, contained within the beast’s stomach. I have no idea why it puked the molten rock onto its eggs, but I’m glad it did because I can now see it clearly.

  “What are those things?” asks Jonn.

  I’m about to translate the question when I notice he said “things,” not “thing.” Does that mean there are more than one? One quick scan of my surroundings reveals there are dozens of glows—worms—slithering through the darkness. Every few seconds one of them throws up, revealing both itself and its eggs. Empty worms occasionally appear as they glide past a pool of lava. I hope they’re not dangerous because there are far too many for us to defeat.

  “What are those things?” I finally ask, translating Jonn’s question word-for-word.

  “They’re lava worms,” says Korri. He doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the massive worms, but that does little to reassure me. “They travel to the Mountain of Fire and bring back lava to warm their eggs.”

  “Why?” asks Kara. I’ve been translating Korri’s words, so my friends remain up to speed.

  “The eggs need heat to hatch.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” says Kara once I have repeated the question. “Why do the worms travel all the way to the Mountain of Fire? Why not just take their lava from the underground river you spoke of earlier?”

  “The eggs need heat to hatch, but too much of it kills them,” I say, translating Korri’s answer. “In order to travel underground, lava worms must dig tunnels. If they took their lava from the river, the molten rock would divert down these tunnels and flood the cavern, resulting in the death of all of the unborn worms.”

  It makes sense. Unfortunately, not much else does.

  “Why are we here?” asks Jonn. He still seems uncomfortable being underground, but he’s no longer shaking, and his voice is strong and steady.

  “This is the only way across the Plain of Pain,” says Korri.

  “I don’t understand,” I admit. “How will watching worms puke lava all over their eggs help us reach our destination?”

  “It’s simple,” explains Korri as he hurries off. My companions and I share a perplexed glance before hurrying after him. "We’ll wait for the worms to expulse the lava from their stomachs and hitch a ride across the Plain of Pain.”

  “What do you mean by ‘hitch a ride?’” I ask.

  “Give me the satchel, and I will show you,” says Korr
i just as he skids to a stop. Kara, Jonn, and I copy him, ending our journey less than a metre from one of the worms. I’m a little nervous at first, but the giant maggot seems oblivious to our presence. It uses its massive body to move the lava and ensure all its eggs are evenly coated.

  Kara eyes the worm nervously as she removes the satchel and hands it to Korri. He rummages through it, producing four pairs of goggles. The lenses appear to be thin sheets of crystal, glued into place with some sort of natural glue—probably resin. The straps appear to be made of bark but are stretchy.

  “What’s that for?” asks Jonn as Korri hands each of us a pair of goggles.

  I don’t bother translating. I merely watch as he puts on a smaller version of the goggles and hands us each a V-shaped piece of wood. It’s not until I see him place one on his nose that I realize it’s a nose plug.

  “What are we supposed—” I begin, but the second half of question dies in my throat when Korri turns to the lava worm and kicks it square in the face.

  For a brief moment nothing happens, then the worm rears up, opening its mouth wide. It remains frozen for a moment before lunging forward and swallowing Korri whole.

  Memory 43

  K orri is dead.

  I don’t want to believe it, but it’s true. Korri was just devoured by a giant, lava-eating maggot. No one, not even a smart little korrigan, could survive that. Could they?

  I’m asking myself that very question when the worm’s mouth opens, and Korri’s head appears. For a brief moment I think he’s dead, but he gives us a big smile and waves. I hear Kara breathe a sigh of relief. Even Jonn seems happy to see the korrigan alive.

  “What the hell?” I snap. Korri is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a best friend, and thinking I lost him hit me harder than I thought it would.

  “What’s wrong?” asks Korri.

  “Nothing,” I mutter. There will be time to tell Korri how much his friendship means to me later. “Do you mind warning us next time? You scared us.”

  “Yes,” agrees Kara. “We would be lost without you.”

  “Sorry,” says Korri.

  “That’s touching,” grumbles Jonn, “but if you don’t mind, can we get back to business? I, for one, would like to know how getting swallowed by worms is supposed to help us find Avalon.”