by Jack Geurts
He forced himself to look at the glove, at his hand resting on the theropod’s hide. He tried to imagine the thoughts running down his arm, from brain to hand – and from there, somehow, into the dinosaur. He didn’t know how it worked, and right now, it seemed impossible.
But then he remembered what these gloves were capable of. What he had seen Io do, what he had seen Janus do. What he, himself, had done.
Jasper closed his eyes and tried to recall the image of Janus running his hand along the flank of the Australovenator. The sound of screams and snapping jaws came back with it, but he blocked those out – focused only on Janus and the dinosaur. The way it calmed when he touched it, the way it became instantly obedient to him.
The G-Rex was curling its neck around now, moving its head back towards Jasper and opening its jaws wide. It was impossibly silent for something so large – the lack of noise only accentuating the crunch that was to come. Twin rows of bone daggers jutted out from the gums and they were rapidly closing around him...
“No!” Io screamed.
Jasper kept his eyes squeezed shut. He could feel the neck moving beneath his hand. He could sense the jaws getting closer. He could smell the rotting flesh of whatever it had last eaten a hundred million years ago and he could hear its low, rumbling breath as it inhaled, sucking him in...
But nothing happened.
No sudden clamping of the jaws. No blinding pain as the teeth stabbed into his body and tore him apart.
Jasper forced himself to open his eyes, and when he did, he felt his blood run cold. The jaws of the G-Rex were still open around him, frozen there, walling him off on three sides. A row of eight-inch teeth at his front and one at his back, all of them pointed inwards. The fleshy, exposed cheek at the hinge of the jaw and the cavernous throat beneath. The dinosaur’s eye watching him closely, wondering what was going on – why it couldn’t clamp down, why it wasn’t eating him right now.
The G-Rex’s rancid breath wafted over him and Jasper looked up at Io, who was just as surprised. She was pointing at him. No, not at him. At his hand...
Jasper noticed it, too. His gloved hand was glowing against the dinosaur’s hide – the scales around it glowing also.
“You have established the connection,” she said. “Now...you have to speak to it.”
“Okay...” Jasper turned to the dinosaur, which looked a little ridiculous with its jaws hanging open and useless like that. He wasn’t sure how to begin addressing the creature, but in the end decided to adopt the tone of someone speaking to a dog. “Hey there, boy...”
“No...” Io was shaking her head. “Speak to it with your mind.”
“Oh.” Jasper realised how foolish he must have looked trying to actually speak to the dinosaur. He concentrated, eyes darting between the glove and the theropod’s head. He thought the words he had been planning to say, and slowly, the G-Rex pulled back. He gently closed his jaws when Jasper was safely out of them and rested his head on the sand.
Jasper couldn’t believe his eyes. It worked.
He looked at Io, who had a big smile on her face, and he realised he probably did too. He couldn’t tell for sure though, still being numb with terror and relief. Now that his life wasn’t in immediate danger, Jasper laid his other hand on the beast, feeling its pulse, the warmth of its hide. The scales were rougher than Io’s, the feathers spikier and less colourful.
“Here,” he said. “Come and help me get this thing on.”
Io skirted around the dinosaur’s head in a wide arc and it watched her the entire way. Jasper got the impression that if he took his hand off the G-Rex for even a moment, it would lash out and gobble her up – gobble the both of them up, for that matter. She arrived at Jasper’s side with Dia by hers, and hoisted the saddle up onto the base of the dinosaur’s neck.
“You look really nice by the way,” he said, as she worked. “That slime really brings out the colour in your feathers.”
Io gave him a withering look and he chuckled, still too nervous for a proper laugh. “Sorry.”
She proceeded to adjust the straps on her side, sliding them out to accommodate the size of the neck. The saddle was small, probably too small for a dinosaur this size, but it would do.
“Alright,” she said. “I am going to need you to get it to lift its head so I can buckle these straps. It will need to be high enough to get his entire neck and shoulders off the ground.”
“Okay...” Jasper said, sounding less than confident. He ran his eyes from the saddle to the dinosaur’s head, then gave the telepathic order. It was obeyed almost instantly, with the theropod lifting its enormous skull and turning it upwards to face the sky.
“Higher,” Io said, and Jasper noticed that the gap wasn’t big enough between the ground and the creature’s underbelly for Io to thread the straps through. He gave the G-Rex a little mental encouragement and the head craned further skyward, lifting its shoulders off the ground.
To behold from a distance, Jasper thought it must have looked very odd. Here they stood, beside a dinosaur who appeared to be doing some kind of yoga stretch, while one of them tried to fit a saddle to its neck.
“Do not dare let him go,” warned Io, as she disappeared beneath the dinosaur.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jasper said, feeling the pressure even more now. Io proceeded to adjust the straps on the other side, then began to buckle them together underneath, lying down on her back like a mechanic below a car.
Jasper’s eyes climbed the G-Rex’s neck to its head, where it seemed to be staring peacefully at the night sky, taking in the stars, the cosmos. Then it gave an irritated grunt to let them know how uncomfortable it was, and that they’d better hurry up with this whole saddling business.
“It’s alright, buddy,” he said, stroking its neck with his bare hand. “It won’t be long.”
Then Jasper suddenly remembered something, and looked over to the peak of the pyramid beyond the flames.
Janus was gone.
It wasn’t a sense of relief that came over him, but one of dread. He knew Janus wouldn’t give up that easy. He had probably thought the dinosaur would do his job for him, but now that it had been tamed by the very people it was supposed to kill, he seemed to have retreated in a furious rage.
But why? And to where?
When the saddle was fully secured to the dinosaur’s neck, Io stood. Jasper let it back down again, and the creature gave a relieved groan.
“He’s gone,” Jasper said.
Io looked up to the pyramid where Janus had previously been standing. “No. He is still out there somewhere.”
Jasper had half-hoped she would be reassured by Janus’ absence, so he could be. If she thought he had simply retreated in defeat, Jasper would have gladly believed it – but evidently, that was not the case.
“Are you not going to get on?” Io said.
Jasper swallowed. “Are we sure that’s what the test is? Maybe we’re just supposed to tame it.”
Io smiled. “It is alright, Jasper. The hard part is over. And besides, the ring of fire is still up – I am assuming whatever the test is, we have not completed it yet.”
“What if we’re supposed to...you know...” He made a cutting motion across his throat with his free hand.
Io was appalled. “How can you speak of such things?”
“Hey, I’m not exactly thrilled about it, but maybe that’s what the test is.”
“I seriously doubt it,” said Io. “You might not have a problem with butchering animals, but dinosaurs are sacred in my culture. My ancestors would not have wanted us to just kill such a majestic beast.”
“Majestic?” Jasper said. “This thing was just trying to kill us.”
“What else would you expect it to do?”
Jasper didn’t argue with her, even though he had mixed feelings about the theropod. Part of him saw the same primal ferocity that killed his parents, the same ferocity that would have killed he and Io – and still would, if it got the chance. An
other part of him knew Io was right, that the dinosaur was just an animal like any other. When it saw prey, it gave chase. Simple as that. There was nothing evil about it – it was just the natural order of things. The only evil a dinosaur was capable of was that which a rider might use it for.
And as if on cue, at that moment, Janus reappeared, straddling the back of a giant pterosaur that emerged from the flames like a winged demon. The Quetzalcoatlus had a wingspan of twelve metres and weighed almost a quarter-ton. It was the largest flying animal ever to have lived – almost matching the G-Rex for size – and presently, the beating of its immense wings as it hovered overhead was causing the flame walls to wobble.
Io took a step back and Dia leapt up onto her chest. Jasper had to be careful not to take his hand off the dinosaur, standing firm as Janus stared down at them from atop his winged mount, keeping his own glove on its stiff, elongated neck. For a moment, Jasper was reminded of a giraffe.
A giraffe with huge, leathery wings and a pointed beak.
A long, pointed beak that opened wide to reveal toothless jaws as it squawked loudly and then dropped into a dive.
It was heading straight for them and there was nothing Jasper could do without taking his hand off the theropod. Luckily, Io stepped in and fired a few rounds of blue Elemental, causing the pterosaur to bank left and rise up away from the amphitheatre to try again.
“We do not have much time,” she said, turning to Jasper. “And I will not be able to defeat him while he is riding that thing. You have to mount up.”
All the colour drained out of Jasper’s face. “Why don’t you ride it? You know what you’re doing, I don’t have...”
“It is too late for that, Jasper.” The Quetzal was flapping overhead, preparing for its next dive. “You have already established the connection.”
“But how do I...”
“Do not think,” she said. “Just feel. I will buy you as much time as I can.”
And with that, she ran off, loosing blast after blast into the cold Peruvian sky, Dia clinging to her chest.
Swallowing his fears, Jasper took hold of the saddle with his bare hand as he had seen Janus do. He placed his foot in the stirrup and hauled himself up, swinging his leg over like one would a horse – the whole time being careful not to take his hand off the dinosaur’s neck.
Jasper could scarcely believe what was happening – he was riding a dinosaur.
He could feel its heartbeat, feel it breathing. He looked at his glowing hand on the creature’s neck, then at the back of its head. He commanded it to rise and it did so, arching the rear of its body so that Jasper suddenly lurched forward. He let out a yell, thinking he was going to be bucked off, but then the G-Rex tucked its feet in under itself and pushed upwards, levelling out.
As it stood, Jasper sank back into the saddle, breathing heavily – wondering how he’d managed to keep his gloved hand on the beast and grateful that he hadn’t panicked. Well...grateful that he hadn’t panicked too much.
Now that the theropod was back on its feet, Jasper got the feeling he was really riding it. He’d only ever ridden a horse once in his life and that had been when he was a boy. He still was a boy, he had to remind himself, and even though there was a world of difference between a horse and a theropod, the basic principles were the same: stay balanced, try not to fall off.
And try not to take your glove off the horse or else you’ll sever the Mind-link and your horse will eat you.
But other than that, pretty much the same.
Jasper swung the theropod around to face Janus, who was manoeuvring his winged mount through the air with ease, dodging each of Io’s blasts as it came at him.
“Alright, buddy, we can do this.” Though he was speaking to the dinosaur, it occurred to him he might be speaking more to himself.
Nevertheless, they began to move forward – the great, lumbering steps sending jolt after jolt through Jasper’s body, like sitting atop a pile driver. He rode the beast forward, to where the pterosaur was hovering – toward Janus, who was so preoccupied with Io that he almost didn’t notice Jasper coming.
The G-Rex opened its jaws wide, but at the very last moment, Janus saw him and directed the Quetzal to pull back. The theropod’s jaws clamped down on empty air, but it kept moving forward, snapping again and again at its fleeing prey.
Jasper didn’t know how much he was controlling the dinosaur’s ferocity as he was simply directing it – providing a target that wasn’t himself and just letting it do what it did best.
Amid the snapping of jaws and the flapping of wings, Jasper got his first close-up look at Janus without his hood on. Underneath, what he saw wasn’t so much a head as a skull. A skull without eyes, without a nose or even ears, he noticed now. The inner workings of his head, the blood vessels and teeth, were laid bare through his glass-like skin. Oddly, Jasper was reminded of the crystal skulls that were said to be carved by the Aztec or the Maya.
The rider seemed to be looking straight at Jasper, but there was no way to know for sure. His blindness certainly didn’t seem like an impediment, though – in fact, he was moving far better than Jasper was. Faster, more confident. Nimbly flapping this way and that, evading his every lunging bite.
Finally, Janus went on the offensive, weaving around the theropod’s snout and pecking at Jasper with its long, spear-like beak. Jasper had to duck and weave so he wouldn’t be skewered, trapped where he was in a sitting position on the dinosaur’s neck. He bent low as the beak stabbed the air above him, then allowed himself to fall back as the beak poked a hole in the air where his chest had been. For this, he had to momentarily take his hand off the theropod and then quickly lay it down again as he bounced back upright.
In the few seconds that the Mink Link was severed, the G-Rex looked from side to side, confused – as if waking from a coma and wondering where it was. But as soon as the connection was re-established, the theropod was back in the game, rearing up its bony-ridged skull and butting the pterosaur aside.
The Quetzal flapped wildly as it fought to regain balance, and just as it recovered and went to resume its woodpecker assault, it was hit in the head with a blast of blue Elemental. The flying giraffe squawked in pain and retreated.
Jasper looked down to see Io standing on the belly of the upturned Pod, Dia gone from her chest and hiding somewhere. He smiled a thank you and she smiled back, but then Janus did something neither of them were expecting.
He dared to take his gloved hand off the pterosaur’s neck – only for a second, but a second was all he needed, for in that time, he managed to loose a single red blast. It hurtled down through the air like a fireball, and before Io could move to evade it, the Elemental struck her directly in the chest...
The impact was sickening. Jasper thought he heard the crunch of bone as the blast connected with her, and she was sent flying back off the Pod onto the ground, where she lay still.
“Io!” Jasper called, feeling all the life drain out of him.
But she didn’t respond. She didn’t get up. She gave no sign she was conscious or even alive. Dia scurried to her side from where he had been hiding behind the Flight Pod. He nudged her with his snout, but she gave no response.
While Jasper was distracted, Janus brought the pterosaur in close. It raised its savage claws and gouged out the theropod’s eyes. It quickly flapped away again as the G-Rex roared in pain, thrashing around wildly. Jasper was almost bucked off, but he held on tight to the saddle and kept his gloved hand on the dinosaur’s neck. He focused all his energy into soothing it, and slowly, it began to calm down. It shook its head, maddened by the pain and its sudden blindness, but Jasper stroked the creature’s backbone, the spiny feathers glowing where he touched them and fading as his hand moved away. He spoke to it, telling it everything was going to be alright, like his parents had done to him whenever he was hurt.
The fact that the G-Rex couldn’t see any more initially struck Jasper as an insurmountable problem. He hoped that the Mind-link wa
s strong enough to allow him to direct the theropod, even with it being totally blind.
“It’s okay, buddy,” he said. “I’ll be your eyes.”
Then he looked down at Io again. She still wasn’t moving.
“I am sorry I had to kill her,” came Janus’ deep voice from behind him. “And I am sorry I will have to kill you also. Please know it is nothing personal.”
The words injected a cold fury into Jasper and he turned, slowly. He saw the pterosaur hovering before him, Janus sitting astride it. The mirror image of he and his dinosaur – an eyeless rider and an eyeless mount, each with a sighted partner.
Jasper felt his jaw clench tight, his heart freeze over. In that moment, he desired only one thing, and he kicked the dinosaur into motion to make sure that he had it.
The pterosaur flapped backwards and Jasper moved forward through the gusts of wind it created. His theropod chomped at its winged prey again and again, each time forcing it back, towards the flame...
But just before the Quetzal came into contact with the fire, it felt the heat at its back and flapped upwards, over the flame and out into the darkness beyond. Janus might have thought that the boy wouldn’t pursue him any further, that he was trapped there – any rational person might have thought the same.
But Jasper wasn’t in a rational state of mind right now, so what he did instead was ride the dinosaur straight through the wall of fire.
He got a run-up and launched the both of them into the blaze and out the other side. The flames parted around the bulk of the theropod as they passed through, and Jasper felt a tremendous wave of heat roll over him.
Then, suddenly, it was cold again. They were standing on the other side, unharmed. They had made it.
The G-Rex snorted – its large, fleshy nostrils irritated by the smoke and the fire, more than a few of its feathers singed off. Jasper considered that it might not have been such a bad thing for the dinosaur to be blind, at least for that part – if the G-Rex knew it was about to charge through a wall of flame, it may not have been so cooperative.