The Nibiru Effect

Memory 22

I stare at the dinosaur with dropped jaw and wide eyes. Part of me is thrilled—I used to be obsessed with dinosaurs. Another is terrified. Not only am I standing within throwing distance of a living, breathing dinosaur, but I now have irrefutable proof that I'm trapped in the past. If our reptile friend is any indication, we're somewhere between two hundred and thirty and sixty-five million years in the past, give or take a few million years.

I'm too stunned to speak, so I do the only thing that makes sense. I study the dinosaur.

My former obsession lets me identify the prehistoric reptile as a Stegosaurus. Coated in large grey scales, the four-legged beast has two distinctive rows of kite-shaped plates lining the length of its spine. Its thick tail ends with two long, sharp spikes. Small for its kind, it measures only one metre in height and three times that in length, which explains how it managed to sneak up on us.

I would be terrified if not for the fact that Stegosaurus are herbivores. Still, the sight of the prehistoric reptile does little to reassure me. I'm debating whether or not to run away when the animal turns around and vanishes into the thick foliage.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

"That was close."

Kara nods in agreement.

"We should move," says Jonn. "There's no telling what other creatures lurk in these woods."

"Which direction?" asks Kara, seemingly unperturbed by the recent encounter.

"Does it matter?" asks Jonn.

He doesn't wait for an answer. Unsheathing his trusty hunting knife, he picks a direction at random and heads off. Kara and I exchange a look, then hurry after him.

"Where are we going?" I ask after a few minutes of trekking.

"The sun is about to set," says Jonn. "We need to find a safe place to spend the night."

We march through the jungle for a while before my lack of shoes becomes an issue. Roots, stones, and critters; everything we come across proves a challenge for my unshod feet. The progress is both slow and painful, but I push on.

"Hurry up," growls Jonn. It's his tenth speed-related complaint, and I've had just about enough. I open my mouth to tell him off, but I stub my toe on a root before I can utter a single word.

"Dammit!" I grunt as I collapse. Kara offers me a hand, but I refuse it. I grab hold of a nearby tree, but instead of giving me the stability I require to right myself, the tree trunk decomposes beneath my hand. I crumble once more as dozens of massive insects come tumbling out of the excavated trunk. By the time I realize what's happening, it's already too late.

Two of the disturbed insects attack me. I manage to shove one aside, but the other scurries up my leg. It's not until its massive mandibles start snapping at my face that I recognize it.

It's a termite.

It looks exactly like its modern-day cousin but for one crucial detail. It's as long as my forearm. Its mandibles are the size of my pinkies and are now snapping mere centimetres from my face.

I grab the insect in the hopes of prying it away, but it thrashes madly, and I lose my grip. I try again, but the result is the same. I keep fighting, unaware of my surroundings until the tip of a blade emerges from the termite's body. The insect's movements grow erratic for a few seconds, then cease.

It's dead.

The corpse retreats, revealing Jonn.

"Stop messing around," he says as he extracts his knife from the skewered termite and wipes it on his pants. Moments later, the weapon is back in its sheath, and Jonn is on his way once more.