The Nibiru Effect

by G Sauvé

  Memory 45

  F ollow me,” says the hooded man. His voice echoes through the darkness, yet none of my companions wake.

  I hesitate. What if he lied? What if he can’t help me control my powers? Then again, can I risk not taking advantage of such an opportunity? Mastering my shifting will allow me to stop living my life in fear of human contact. Not to mention the fact that it may also allow me to aid my friends in finding Avalon and returning us to our respective times.

  I follow the stranger.

  He leads me through the darkness, avoiding obstacles like he can see through the gloom. We come to a stop a short distance from the camp. It’s close enough that I can find my way back, yet far enough that we won’t disturb my sleeping companions.

  “Who are you?” I ask once we’re seated.

  “My identity is irrelevant,” says the man.

  I consider insisting, but I doubt what will help.

  “Why are you here?”

  “It’s my job to train you. In time you will learn to master your powers, but for now I will teach you to suppress your ability.”

  There’s a long silence before the man speaks again.

  “Close your eyes,” he says.

  I obey the command.

  “Focus on your breathing,” he instructs. “Picture the air entering your nostrils, sliding down your windpipe, and entering your lungs. Visualize them getting bigger and bigger until they can take in no more oxygen. Hold it for a second, then release.”

  I do as I’m told. At first, I wonder what any of this has to do with learning to suppress my abilities, but the more I focus on my breathing, the less it seems to matter. I feel relaxed, happy.

  “Can you feel the wind?” asks my mentor.

  “Yes.”

  “Focus on it. Picture it caressing your skin, curving around your body, enveloping you completely. Now concentrate on your skin. It’s getting harder, isn’t it?”

  It is. It feels as though it’s growing thicker. I experience a moment of panic before remembering it isn’t real. Nonetheless, I feel as though I’m being wrapped like a mummy, only the strips of cloth are made of air, not linen. Before long, my entire body is cocooned in a shell of hardness. My skin is now stiff as stone. I want to touch it, but I’m afraid of what will happen. I maintain my focus until the hooded man’s voice shatters the illusion.

  “That’s enough,” he says.

  My eyes flutter open, and the odd sensation evaporates. I run my fingers along my arm, but the skin feels normal.

  “What happened? What went wrong?”

  “Nothing. You have successfully suppressed your powers.”

  “That’s impossible.” I spent the last few weeks desperately trying to get rid of my shifting abilities, only to fail time and time again. The solution can’t be as simple as imagining my skin hardening. Can it?

  “Touch me,” says the man. An arm emerges from the folds of the cloak and moonlight shines upon it. It’s human in origin, but that’s pretty much all I can determine because of the darkness. I stare at it for the longest time before finally deciding to throw caution to the wind.

  I reach out with a trembling hand and touch the offered limb.

  Nothing happens.

  “Oh my god!” I gasp. “It worked.”

  The stranger chuckles.

  “Thank you,” I say, releasing the man’s arm. It retreats into the darkness and vanishes.

  “You’re welcome. But your training has only just begun. To fulfill your destiny, you must first master your powers.”

  “How?”

  “You must—” begins the man, but his voice trails off when the shuffling of approaching footsteps reaches our ears. I focus on the sound and see a shape emerge from the darkness.

  It’s Jonn.

  “What are you doing here all by yourself?” he asks.

  “I’m not…” I begin, but my voice trails off when I realize the hooded stranger is gone. For a brief moment I wonder if he was even real, but then I remember Jonn asked me a question.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I lie, knowing he would make fun of me if I tell him the truth. “I went for a walk.”

  Jonn grunts, which I take to mean he believes my lie.

  “I need to pee,” he says, then wanders off into the darkness.

  I wait a while, but my mentor doesn’t return. All I hear is a voice carried forth by the wind.

  “I will return to continue your training.”

  I get up and return to camp, but sleep refuses to come.

  I stare at the sky and smile. Unlike the Montréal nights of my recent past, there’s no smog to veil the beauty of the firmament. The stars shine with a brilliance I’m unaccustomed to. The moon is so bright it seems to light up the whole sky. There’s a faint reddish glow in the distance which I can only assume is Nibiru, but I have no way of knowing for sure. For the first time since this insane adventure began, I feel lucky. Few are those who can claim to have seen the beauty of the prehistoric night sky. Of course, I would much prefer being back in my own time with my mother and father, but at least I get to see beautiful and wondrous things. Perhaps time travel isn’t so bad after all. Or so I think until the ground starts shaking.

  At first, I think it’s an earthquake, but I soon realize it’s not powerful enough for that. Not to mention the fact that the tremors are far too frequent. But if it’s not an earthquake, then what is it? It’s not until I sit up and glance around that the truth dawns on me.

  It stands a dozen metres away, its frame as big as a mountain. Its scales glimmer in the moonlight, but it’s not until I catch a glimpse of its sharp teeth that I understand what I’m looking at. My heart stops beating, and my hands start shaking. I gaze at the all too familiar beast for what feels like an eternity before I finally find the strength to speak. The high-pitched shriek shoots from my mouth like a bullet leaving the chamber.

  “T. REX!”

  Memory 46

  T he moon shines brightly. It’s not enough to fully illuminate my surroundings, but it sheds enough light to reveal my companions as they emerge from their slumber. I barely catch sight of Korri before he bolts, vanishing into the darkness. Kara, still groggy with sleep, leaps to her feet. She adopts a defensive stance, but no amount of fighting skills will suffice to defeat the killing machine that is the Tyrannosaurus rex.

  “What’s happening?” she asks.

  The T. rex roars, relieving me of the answering burden. A beam of moonlight hits its maw just as the beast bellows and its teeth are revealed in all their lethal glory.

  A tooth is missing.

  While it’s quite common for a carnivorous creature such as this to lose a tooth during battle, there’s no doubt in my mind this is the same T. rex that saved us from the Triceratops. I have no idea why it eyes aren’t glowing or even how it found us, but it matters little.

  The beast charges.

  I scan my surroundings and gasp at what I find. Kara is frozen in place, a horror-stricken expression plastered across her face. I yell for her to move, but she remains oblivious to my warning. She merely stares at the Tyrannosaurus rex as it charges toward her. I consider my options for a moment before making my move. I pump my legs like a sprinter leaving the starting block and tackle her out of the way just as the dinosaur’s jaws snap shut. We hit the ground hard and roll, avoiding death by mere centimetres.

  I grab a thick stick from the ground and wave it threateningly at the T. rex. He doesn’t seem impressed and charges forward once more. I prepare myself for an evasive maneuver when—

  “Will!” yells Kara, dragging me back to reality.

  Like in my fantasy, the T. rex is charging, only this time I’m defenceless. And my legs are frozen. I watch, powerless, as the beast surges forward, its razor-sharp teeth drawing closer with each one of its massive steps. Why can’t I be a hero like in my fantasies? Unfortunately, I don’t have time to come up with an answer.

  The dinosaur is almost upon me. I try to move but fail
yet again. All hope seems lost until Kara tackles me out of the way. We roll across the grass, only barely avoiding death.

  I’m grateful to Kara for saving my life, but all she did was delay the inevitable. Our attacker skids to a stop and spins around, an earsplitting roar erupting from the depths of its throat. It charges yet again, and Kara and I dive out of the way just as it reaches us.

  We cheated death twice, but it’s only a matter of time before we run out of luck. We need weapons. And a plan. Unfortunately, we have neither. For the first time in my life, I wish Jonn were here. But he isn’t.

  Kara and I avoid the T. rex’s third attack, but this time I feel his fetid breath blast onto my face as he lunges forward. And things only get worse when I scramble to my feet.

  “We’re trapped,” announces Kara. I don’t understand what she means until a column of steam emerges from the ground less than a metre behind me. I stumble forward, wincing in pain as my knee slams into a rock. Kara helps me to my feet, but that does little to improve our odds of survival.

  Behind us stands the Plain of Pain. Before us towers a bloodthirsty Tyrannosaurus rex. On either side lies a path far too narrow for escape. Kara and I have officially run out of luck.

  “We’re dead, aren’t we?”

  Kara says nothing, which for her is the same as admitting defeat. It seems as though I won’t get to see my parents after all. I expect this to be my final thought, but, against all odds, it isn’t.

  “AAAHHH!!!” The war cry emerges from the darkness, drawing all eyes to it. Even the T. rex momentarily forgets about us when the most unexpected of sights emerges from the darkness.

  A lava worm dashes forward, its great body undulating feverishly. Atop it sits Jonn, his legs wrapped tightly around the worm’s frame and his one free hand clutching his hunting knife. I’m not sure what he plans on doing with it, but I’m glad to see he has a plan. Or so I think until he speeds right past the tyrannosaur. He heads right for us, but instead of stopping, he barrels past us, nearly knocking us to the ground. Moments later, he’s flying across the Plain of Pain, his mount desperately weaving to avoid the geysers that randomly appear. I don’t understand what he’s doing until I feel the ground shake.

  The Tyrannosaurus rex speeds past us in pursuit of Jonn and his brave mount. Kara and I dive out of the way and watch, stunned, as Jonn, his mount, and the T. rex vanish into the darkness.

  “Dad!” yells Kara. She leaps to her feet, but I grab her before she can run off.

  “Don’t be stupid!” I have to yell to be heard over the sound of Jonn’s screams, the T. rex’s roars, and the geysers’ eruptions. “There’s nothing you can do. Jonn wouldn’t want you to risk your life for nothing.”

  Kara is nothing if not logical. She may have momentarily lost her composure, but my words have a soothing effect on her.

  “You’re right,” she says. I hesitate for a moment before releasing her. I half expect her to run off in pursuit of her father, but she just stands there, scanning the darkness. The moon shines bright, but it’s not enough to pierce the veil of darkness. All we can do is wait and hope Jonn somehow survives both the tyrannosaur’s wrath and the Plain of Pain.

  Not being able to see what happens is worse than seeing every gory detail. We hear a random jumble of yells, roars, and hisses. The screams and the growls get fainter, but the hissing of the geysers remains constant. Before long, it’s all we can hear. Then, after nearly a minute of near silence, we hear a mighty roar. That can only mean one thing.

  The T. rex caught its prey.

  The geysers continue to erupt, but all I can hear is a dull whirring noise. I’m pretty sure it’s the sound of the gears in my head turning as I struggle to come up with a logical explanation for the roar we heard that doesn’t involve Jonn’s death. Unfortunately, none comes to mind.

  Kara seems just as stunned. She stares blankly ahead, tears streaming down her cheeks. I want to comfort her, but I don’t know how. I’m about to wrap my arm around her when something incredible happens.

  A shape emerges from the darkness. It’s Jonn, sitting atop his lava worm. The man seems unharmed, but the worm’s movements are erratic, and a large gash has appeared on its left flank. But still it undulates forward, carrying Jonn to safety before finally giving up. Jonn slides off the injured creature’s back just as it collapses. It lies there, breathing heavily.

  No one speaks for the longest time.

  “What happened?” finally asks Kara.

  “The T. rex got fried,” says Jonn. “We were on our way back when we got hit by a geyser.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. He got the worst of it.” He nods toward the dying lava worm. I can’t be sure, but I think I see a tear roll down his cheek.

  “We should head back to camp,” suggests Kara.

  “No,” refuses Jonn. “I won’t leave him.” He takes a seat next to the injured worm and hugs it. It’s such a gentle, kind-hearted thing to do I can’t help being stunned. I glance at Kara, only to discover she’s just as surprised as me. I guess she’s not used to seeing her father being so compassionate.

  We awkwardly stand around before I suggest we go looking for Korri. I don’t believe the korrigan is in danger, but I would say just about anything to get away from Jonn. He’s going through a difficult moment, and the last thing he needs is Kara and me hanging around.

  “Yeah,” agrees Kara. “Let’s go find Korri.” We head off, leaving Jonn alone to mourn the impending death of the worm that gave its life for him. By the time we reach the campsite, the small korrigan has returned from wherever it is he fled to. He asks what happened and, as we wait for Jonn to return, I explain everything. We also build a new fire, though now that the adrenaline has worn off, it’s nearly impossible to warm our shivering bodies.

  Jonn joins us after nearly an hour. He doesn’t say a word. He just lies down and goes to sleep. Since we still have half a day of travel left before reaching our destination, we decide to join him. I lie on my improvised bed for a while, replaying the events of the past few minutes in my mind. As horrifying as it all was, the most shocking part remains seeing Jonn being so caring. The more I think about it, the more I realize my initial assumptions about the man were wrong. Jonn may be willing to risk his life to protect his daughter, but he isn’t the badass he pretends to be. Deep down he’s a decent, kind person. This leads me to wonder about Avalon. If Jonn isn’t the man I thought him to be, perhaps Avalon isn’t as evil as my friends claim she is. But I guess only time will tell.

  My mind wanders for a while before fatigue finally gains me. With a final sigh, I close my eyes and fall asleep. Hopefully, tomorrow will be more relaxing.

  Memory 47

  I ’m yanked from my slumber by a blow to the gut. I struggle into a seated position, winded and confused. Still groggy, I try to make sense of the images my eyes send to my brain.

  Centipedes.

  That’s the message my brain receives over and over again as I blink furiously. But no matter how many times I bat my eyelids, the impossible sight remains unchanged.

  A dozen giant centipedes scurry about in a mess of limbs and exoskeletons. They resemble lava worms in size, only they are half as wide and twice as long. Their countless legs blur into streaks of colour as the giant arthropods scurry about. Their carapaces, which resemble giant armour plates, are the brightest shade of crimson I have ever seen. The same goes for the rest of their bodies, from their massive, boulder-like heads to their imposing, razor-sharp forcipules—a pincer-like mandible that’s present only in centipedes. The horrifying creatures have no eyes, but make up for it by using their imposing antennae to touch everything around them. One of them slithers across my leg, and I scurry back, a pathetic whimper falling from my lips.

  I shuffle backward until I’m at a safe distance. I probably would have kept going if not for the fact that I hit something. I yelp and roll away, thinking it’s another centipede, but it’s just Kara.

 
“Wh-what happened?” I stutter as I right myself and do my best to avoid looking like a complete coward. “Where did they come from?”

  “I don’t know,” admits Kara, surprisingly calm given the situation.

  “What should we do?” I ask, glancing around nervously.

  Kara isn’t listening. “Where’s my father?”

  I look around but see no sign of the grey-haired soldier.

  “Have you seen Jonn?” I ask Korri.

  “He’s there,” he says, pointing at the writhing mass of arthropods.

  “Are you sure?”

  Korri nods.

  “What’s going on?” asks Kara. “What’s he saying?”

  I take a moment to explain the situation. Kara’s expression decomposes as soon as she learns her father’s fate.

  “We have to save him.”

  She steps forward, but Korri blocks her path.

  “There’s nothing we can do for him,” he says.

  “We have to help him,” insists Kara. “Now!”

  She tries to step around Korri, but he once again blocks her progression.

  “Move!” she orders, but Korri refuses to budge. It would be funny if not for the fact that Jonn is in peril. Or is he?

  “Wait!” I call out. “I don’t think Jonn’s in danger.”

  “Why not?” asks Kara.

  I hope I’m right about this because Kara will never forgive me if I’m wrong and Jonn dies as a result.

  “Think about it. Korri is still here. When was the last time you saw him stick around when there was danger?”

  That gets Kara thinking, so I keep going.

  “I suspect that, as terrifying as they look, the centipedes are, in fact, harmless.”

  “You’re right,” says Korri. “They wouldn’t hurt a fly. Actually, they would because they eat them, but they won’t hurt us.”

  “Are you sure?” asks Kara once I tell her what the korrigan said.