by Jack Geurts
She went on. “You consider yourself to be a good person, and from what I can tell, you are one. You are smart and brave and funny, at times.” Io smiled at him so it wouldn’t seem like she was being too harsh. “But only consider that you are a member of the human race. You are not apart from them, not better or worse. I am sure there are things you have done in your life that you are not proud of, that you wish you could take back. Did you not seek vengeance for the deaths of your parents? Did you not want to kill Janus?”
He did. He did want to kill Janus. He did want vengeance.
Jasper’s eyes fell to the dinosaur saddle that Dia was sleeping on. The very instrument Janus had used to kill his parents, and there it was, taunting him.
Why had he taken it?
That was something Jasper still hadn’t figured out. What on earth could he possibly want with such a terrible memento? He didn’t know. Maybe it was his last and only connection to his parents. Maybe it fuelled his quest to avenge them. Maybe he grabbed it so that he would not forget, when sometimes that was all he wanted to do. Forget that his family had been murdered. Forget everything. Even if that meant forgetting he had a family to begin with. If he could erase his own memory, he wondered if he would – to save himself the pain he felt now, even at the cost of so many better times.
“Always remember that in Janus’ mind, he is doing good,” said Io. “He is paving the way for his people to reclaim their homeland, and we are the villains in that story. Even those we consider to be wicked have their own motivations, as you have yours. No one considers themselves to be evil.”
Jasper nodded and didn’t say anything more. Io wondered if she had gone too far in making her point. She certainly hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings, only to make him understand – make him see things from both sides.
He had also just lost both of his parents.
She knew all too well the pain of losing a loved one – in her case, a brother – and she remembered the state she was in after losing him. The dark moods – sadness giving way to anger and back to sadness again. Countless nights of crying herself to sleep. Walling herself off from parents who only wanted to comfort her, to let her know she was loved. Getting angry at them when the person she was really angry at was the man who had murdered Callisto – a helpless, frustrated anger from a time when she was less capable of vengeance.
Io had to admit that Jasper was holding it together pretty well, especially in having to deal with Janus and the Precursor map on top of the recent tragedy. Maybe their mission was helping to keep his mind off it. She hoped it was and decided to extend an olive branch.
“Can I ask you something?” she said. “I am assuming they built pyramids also, the Norte Chico? Is that why we saw the image of a pyramid?”
Jasper looked up and saw her watching him, waiting. He nodded, but said nothing.
Io tried again. “You said it was laid out like a map. There was the water, then the mountains, and in between, the circle and the pyramid, which I am guessing represents Caral – is that right? The city between the water and the mountains, on the coastal plain.”
Jasper smiled weakly. Io hadn’t been this nice to him before and he knew she was trying to cheer him up. He nodded again. “Yeah, that’s it.”
“And the circle? What does that mean?”
Jasper sat up a little straighter in his chair, feeling the metal shift to match his body. “I originally thought it meant the earth, or more likely, the sun. But when I realised the map was a physical layout of the location, it meant the circle was...just a circle.”
Io frowned, not understanding.
“See, the Norte Chico had these big round plazas, sunken into the ground like amphitheatres in ancient Greece or Rome. This is where they would have met to trade and hold celebrations.”
“So that is what the circle represented, one of these plazas?”
“Yeah, exactly. There were about six pyramids there, but two of them had these big plazas in front, so you’d have the water, then the plaza, then the pyramid, then the mountains behind that.”
“Exactly like the second Marker showed us,” Io said, as all the pieces fell into place. “Very clever.” She smiled at Jasper now and he smiled back. Then something occurred to her.
“But, wait...if the Precursors came down to lay these Markers, and then the first civilisations began to form around the Markers, then how could the second Marker show us the plaza and the pyramid at a time when they wouldn’t have even been built yet?”
Jasper was impressed with her deductive reasoning. “Very clever yourself,” he said. “I’ve actually been thinking about that exact thing, and the only answer I can come up with is that the Precursors came back.”
“You mean after they originally laid the Markers?”
“I think so, yeah. It must have been some time after the civilisation at Caral developed and before the second Marker was moved into the Emperor’s tomb. So say between 2000 BCE and 250 BCE. Unless they used a Time Reversion after the pyramid had already been moved to go back and change the projection. Either way, that’s the only logical conclusion.”
Logical being a relative term, Jasper thought, as he raced across the Pacific Ocean in an invisible spacecraft with an alien princess.
“But, why?” Io said.
“I don’t know. To help us, maybe. I’m not sure what it would have been beforehand, maybe just the water, the pyramid and the mountains. Because there would have been a pyramid there at the time – the one they laid themselves. But I’m guessing future generations didn’t think it was clear enough. They wanted to help us enough that they came back a second time.”
It was a comforting thought, and gave Jasper a little more hope than he had previously had.
“See?” said Io, glad to see him feeling better. “Even my ancestors thought you were worth saving.”
Jasper paused, thinking. Then he said, “It might not have even been your ancestors. If whoever changed the projection was in possession of a Window, they might not have done it back then at all. They might have done it recently, and just used a Time Reversion to go back and change it before the Marker was sealed underground.”
It took Io a moment to realise the ramifications of what he was saying.
“So...if you are right about this – if the change was made recently – then my people have had knowledge of this map the whole time...”
Jasper put his hands up. “Hold on, I didn’t say that’s definitely what happened. Only that it’s a possibility.”
“But if what you are saying is correct, then someone apart from Janus knows the layout of the map.”
“Why not Janus?” Jasper said, not following.
“It had to be someone who wanted to help the Progeny, not destroy them. Janus wouldn’t have changed the map to make it more clear – if anything, he would have made it less so.”
Jasper nodded, catching up with her thought process. “Of course, right. Who could it have been, then?”
“I have no idea,” Io said. “I would have thought anyone who wanted to help the Progeny would have been one of my people, as opposed to one of Janus’. In that case, they would have gone through my father, and then my father would have told me. Then you and I would not have needed to figure it out for ourselves.”
“But wasn’t that the point?” said Jasper. “Wasn’t the whole reason for this to prove that we were worthy of being saved by figuring it out ourselves?”
Io turned on him, her eyes flashing with anger. “Are you saying my father knew the layout of this map and neglected to tell me about it?”
There was a defiant edge to her voice now, and Jasper chose his next words very carefully. “All I’m saying...is that it seems like he enjoys playing god.”
“What?”
“You said so yourself – the intention of this map was for us to save ourselves. If your father knew about this map the whole time, then he deliberately didn’t intervene to help us. I’d call that playing god, wouldn’t you?
”
“If he knew at all,” Io said.
“If he did, then he chose not to tell you about it, just like he chose not to tell us about it. And after what happened to your brother, I’m guessing you’re next in line for the throne, am I right?”
“So?” Io said, getting defensive.
“So...you told me you had something to prove. Maybe he wanted you to prove it. Like he wanted us to prove it.”
Io went quiet now, turning all that over in her mind.
“But who knows?” said Jasper. “Maybe you were right. Maybe whoever changed the projection did it ages ago and knowledge of the map really did die out. Maybe your father didn’t know anything about it. But even if he didn’t, he still sent you.”
“I volunteered.”
“Yeah, but he agreed to it – even knowing that Janus was going to be here waiting and you’d have to defeat him to return home.”
“I told you I wanted to prove it to myself. Not him.”
“Are you telling me there isn’t a part of you that wants to make him proud? To have him welcome you back with open arms and tell you that you did a good job.”
“No.”
But Jasper didn’t back down. “There’s no part of you that wants to prove to him you’re strong enough to follow in his footsteps, that you’re just as good as your brother would have been?”
“Shut up!” Io shouted.
Dia jerked awake at the raising of her voice and Jasper instantly fell quiet. He could see the tears in her eyes now, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking straight ahead, at the place where the ocean met the sky. Her jaw was clenched, trying to push back down all the emotions that were rising to the surface – succeeding for the most part, until a single tear escaped her eye and trickled down her scales. A tear that was quickly brushed away.
“I’m sorry,” Jasper said, in a quiet voice. “I shouldn’t talk about your family. I don’t have any right.”
“No, you do not.” Io’s voice was even quieter than Jasper’s, yet somehow more intimidating than when she had shouted.
He tried to think of a way to make it better, to cheer her up as she had cheered him up. But she had only been telling him some hard truths he didn’t want to hear – he, on the other hand, had gotten personal, bringing up her brother like that. Bringing up her father and guessing at the kind of man he was without ever having met him. He’d crossed a line and he knew it.
Even if he was right – even if Io’s father wanted her to prove herself, even if she wanted to make him proud and wouldn’t admit it – that still left him having hurt her feelings. He wished he could take it back, wished he’d just shut his mouth when he felt his temper getting the better of him.
“Can I ask you something?” said Jasper, imitating Io’s attempt at reconciliation before. “If Janus can move through time and space, why doesn’t he just go back to before the Precursors even laid the Markers?”
Io didn’t answer right away. In fact, she didn’t answer for a while. It seemed like she was trying to decide whether to stay angry at Jasper or move past it. In the end, she took a middle road – answering his question without looking at him.
“There is a thing known amongst my people as a Time Lock. A very powerful device, said to have been used only once in our history.”
“What does it do?”
“Exactly what its name suggests,” she said. “When activated, the Time Lock draws a kind of line through time – a barrier, if you will – separating it into a before and an after. People who come after that time cannot travel back into the before. In effect, it creates a new reality, one which cannot be altered by going back and changing past events.”
“And that was what your people did after laying the Markers, then?”
Io nodded. “That is what I have been told, yes.”
Jasper thought about it. “But how could Janus bring the dinosaur back to life, then? That fossil was over a hundred million years old.”
“As I said, the Time Lock prevents passing from the after back into the before. But it does not prevent passing from the before into the after.”
“So it’s like a one-way street?” Jasper said.
Io was clearly irritated by the gross oversimplification, but she didn’t argue with him. “In a manner, yes. When the Time Lock was engaged after the laying of the Markers, it prevented anyone from travelling back to a time before the asteroid collided with earth and forced us to leave. It was one of the reasons Jupiter and Saturn went to war to begin with. When Saturn was still king and wanted to recolonise earth, Jupiter led his secret mission to lay the Markers. After he stole the Time Lock from Saturn and engaged it, no one could travel back to undo what Jupiter and his followers had done. So they went to war. Afterwards, when Jupiter was crowned king, he sealed the Time Lock in his palace under heavy guard. And there it remains to this day.”
“Have you seen it?”
“Once, yes. My father showed it to me when I was young, after Callisto...well...” Io faltered. “He took me up to the tallest tower and there it was, under heavy guard. I asked him why we kept it. He said one day we might need it for something, but until then, Janus and his followers would always be trying to retrieve it.”
“Why?”
“Who knows? Perhaps for when they succeed in overthrowing my father and return to colonise earth. If they engage it after they reclaim your planet, then nobody will be able to go back and prevent it from happening.”
Jasper swallowed. “You think whoever changed the projection might have engaged another Time Lock? You know, to prevent anyone going back and undoing it.”
Io considered this, then shook her head. “No, they couldn’t have. The earliest it could have been changed was after the Caral civilisation emerged, like you said. But we’ve already travelled back further than that, to Eridu. Even if my father knew about the map, there’s no way Janus could have known any change had been made, and so no Time Lock was necessary.”
It occurred to Jasper that she’d been thinking about what he had said. Her bringing it up again might have meant it was making more and more sense to her. She hadn’t just dismissed it as a lie – there must have been some truth to it, otherwise it wouldn’t have angered her so. Even still, he decided to say nothing, more out of self-preservation than anything else.
For now, whatever tension that had existed between them was gone, whatever he had done to upset her was forgotten, and Jasper was glad of it.
“You should get some sleep,” she told him. It was only then he realised how exhausted he was and how many hours he had spent without rest.
“No, it’s alright,” he said, yawning. “I’m not tired.”
But even as he spoke, Jasper felt his lids growing heavy and the world becoming blurry. Pretty soon, he was out like a light.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Born In The Darkness
In Texas, just north of the Mexican border, there lay a stretch of desert that had been cordoned off by the US government and named the Big Bend National Park. It took its name from the bend in the Rio Grande where it was located – the same river that formed part of the border itself and carved deep canyons in the limestone.
Up above, the arid plains were carpeted with creosote and mesquite bush, and threaded with arroyos that flooded on occasion but, for the most part, remained dry. Down below, at the base of one of these canyons, was a pit, cut into the rock where the canyon wall met the pebbled shore of the Rio Grande.
It was here in the year 1974 that a crew from the University of Texas unearthed the largest and most complete fossil of a Quetzalcoatlus ever found. They laboured under floodlights, casting shadows up the canyon wall, and the tapping of metal on rock echoed down the gully either way.
The sounds fell on native ears – the cougars, the coyotes. Creatures that hunted in the light of the moon or in no light at all. On this night, they were joined by another – a strange creature who did not look like them, but more like the figures on the riverbank wit
h their lights and picks and brushes.
This creature lurked in the darkness beyond the camp. If he had eyes, he would watch, but he did not. He heard and smelled his way.
He tasted.
He felt.
Janus observed from a ledge in the canyon wall, high above the river, like a gargoyle perched atop some rocky cathedral. He listened to the men work and remained hidden. He was good at remaining hidden. Like the felines that ruled this part of the world, he was a patient hunter. He knew what he was after and could wait.
He had waited while the boy uncovered the saddle that night, chipping away until the secret past became known to him.
He had waited while the boy went to get his mother and showed her what he had found.
He had waited all that night, recovering from the leap that had brought him there. The leap from his world to this one. From the planet he was born on to the one he would reclaim for his people.
He had not even known if he would survive the leap, but there he was. Drained and hollow, but alive. He had lain out under the stars and felt life slowly return to him.
Come dawn, he listened as the Progeny uncovered the rest of the saddle. He listened while they guessed at what it was and knew he didn’t have much time.
He hauled himself up on a boulder and staggered toward the camp, careful to keep the hood over his head against the sun. Though he was still weak, he brought the dinosaur from its own time into his, and mounted up just as his father had shown him how to do when he was a boy.
“Just get into the saddle,” his father had said. “Then let the animal do the work. Let it do what it was made to do.”
And so he had.
After the effort of climbing up into the saddle, it was only a matter of sitting there, keeping his glove on the beast, and holding on as it did what he told it to do. What it was made to do. Out of the dust that birthed the creature, he was also birthed into this new world. Birthed in dust and blood and the screams of those he saw torn apart and eaten.