by G Sauvé
Will Save
The Nibiru Effect
G. Sauvé
The Nibiru Effect
Copyright © 2019 G. Sauvé - All rights reserved.
[email protected] - G.Sauve.ca
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Art: Vanesa Garkova
Cover Design: Mircea Adamoiu
Dedication
To Mado, who first introduced me to Nibiru.
Without her, this series would not exist.
Foreword
N ibiru—sometimes referred to as “Planet X” or the “Red Planet”—is said to be a large astral body that passes through our solar system every 3650 years or so. Its existence has yet to be scientifically proven, but many are those who claim Nibiru is on a collision course with Earth. Whether this is fact or fiction remains unknown, but I found the concept quite intriguing. I pondered it for a while before it finally dawned on me that the cyclical nature of the Red Planet’s trajectory in relation to Earth made for the perfect premise for a time travel story. After that, everything fell into place. Well, sort of. It took me five years to flesh out the story and outline the eleven books in the series, but, finally, I get to share my story with the world.
Enjoy,
G. Sauvé
How Brave Are You?
A portal hovers before you. It flickers. Once. Twice. It's about to vanish. You must pick a course of action. Will you let it close and return to your life, or will you act now and claim your FREE STORY? The choice is yours.
ENTER THE PORTAL
GSauve.ca
Contents
Dedication
Foreword
How Brave Are You?
The Memory Organizer
Will Save
Memory 1
Memory 2
Memory 3
Memory 4
Memory 5
Is It Real?
Memory 6
Memory 7
Memory 8
Memory 9
Memory 10
Memory 11
Memory 12
Memory 13
Memory 14
Memory 15
Memory 16
Memory 17
Memory 18
Memory 19
Memory 20
Memory 21
Memory 22
Memory 23
Memory 24
Memory 25
Memory 26
Memory 27
Memory 28
Memory 29
Memory 30
Memory 31
Memory 32
Memory 33
Memory 34
Memory 35
Memory 36
Memory 37
Memory 38
Memory 39
Memory 40
Memory 41
Memory 42
Memory 43
Memory 44
Memory 45
Memory 46
Memory 47
Memory 48
Memory 49
Memory 50
Memory 51
Memory 52
Memory 53
Memory 54
Memory 55
Memory 56
Memory 57
Memory 58
Memory 59
Memory 60
Memory 61
Memory 62
Memory 63
Memory 64
Memory 65
Memory 66
Memory 67
Memory 68
Memory 69
Memory 70
Memory 71
Memory 72
Memory 73
Memory 74
Memory 75
Memory 76
Memory 77
Memory 78
Memory 79
Memory 80
Memory 81
Memory 82
Memory 83
Memory 84
Memory 85
Memory 86
Memory 87
Memory 88
Memory 89
Memory 90
Memory 91
Memory 92
Memory 93
Memory 94
Memory 95
Memory 96
Memory 97
Memory 98
Memory 99
Memory 100
Memory 101
Uh-oh!
The Journey Continues
Did You Enjoy the Book?
How Brave Are You?
Acknowledgements
About the Author
The Memory Organizer
T he mysterious white glow illuminated the dark, cluttered attic. Will Save Jr. crept forward, each hesitant step lifting a small cloud of dust. His heart beat to the rhythmic pulsating of the cryptic light. He was no coward, yet deep within him, a small voice screamed for him to run. He ignored it and pressed on.
Will Jr. came to a stop less than a metre from the box. It was closed, yet the glow was so intense it seeped through the cardboard.
“Light shouldn’t do that,” muttered the teenager. He hesitated for a moment before continuing his journey.
One step. His heartbeat quickened. So did the throbbing of the light.
Two steps. His hands trembled, a perfect match for the beating brilliance.
Three steps. He reached the box.
It’s not too late, reminded the voice of reason. You can still flee.
“No,” muttered Will Jr. “I can’t.”
Something had drawn him here. It had started with his mother asking him to clean out the attic but had quickly evolved into something else. He had sensed it as soon as he entered the cluttered storage space. It was a feeling unlike any he had ever experienced. It had drawn him deep into the bowels of the dusty attic. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he had found it.
The box.
It had started glowing as soon as he neared it. And now here he stood, debating whether or not to open it.
What would my dad do? he wondered. He did this whenever he encountered a difficult decision. It usually worked.
Not this time.
He took a deep breath and carefully pulled the cardboard flaps apart. The light stopped pulsating and grew brighter. Within seconds, Will Jr. was completely blind. Eyes closed and heart racing, he reached into the box. He felt around in search of the source of the luminescence, but there was nothing to find.
The box was empty.
Will Jr.’s heart sank, but he kept feeling around. He was about to give up when his fingers finally made contact with something. It was a small item with hard, angular edges. It felt cold to the touch. Ignoring the shiver that ran down his spine, Will Jr. carefully extricated the item from its cardboard prison.
The light went out as soon as the item left the confines of the box. One moment Will Jr. was blinded by light; the next he was blinded by darkness. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim ambient lighting. Crystal technology was years ahead of the antiquated fluorescent lighting of the past, yet the diminutive size of the stone that hung from the ceiling left most of the attic bathed in shadows. Still, Will Jr. could easily make out the item nestled in his palm.
It was a wooden chest. The item was no bigger than Will Jr.’s palm and barely twice as thick. Two small hinges and a locking flap kept it shut. A pair of words adorned the lid.
Memory Organizer
“What’s a memory organizer?” asked Will Jr., his voice echoing throughout the deserted attic.
Hands still shaking, he unfastened the locking flap and opened the
box. Within the padded interior stood eleven silver discs. One was larger than the others and measured five centimetres in diameter. The other ten stood at half that and were arranged in two neat rows of five. A roman numeral had been etched onto the surface of the small discs. The series began at “I” and ended at “X.” The large disc—Will Jr. assumed it was the memory organizer—was also engraved, though the symbol it harboured was different.
Will Jr.’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of the two triangles that had been carefully carved into the metallic surface. The first stood with its tip pointing down. Its entire surface had been cut into the metal. The second was merely an outline. The two triangles intersected at the tip, forming an hourglass.
Will Jr. could not breathe. The symbol was familiar to him. At least, part of it. He tore his gaze from the memory organizer and focused on his left wrist. The symbol which had adorned it since his birth was still there. It was black but for the small inverted triangle of untainted skin that stood near the tip.
Will Jr. could not believe it. His mother had often told him his father had borne a similar symbol. She claimed it made him special, but refused to tell him why. Will Jr. had never missed his father as much as he did now. At the same time, he felt closer to him than ever before.
Perhaps Will Save was not dead, as Will Jr. had been led to believe. Then again, perhaps that was merely wishful thinking. Still, Will Jr.’s mother had never told him outright that his father was dead. But why else would he have been absent for the past fourteen—soon to be fifteen—years of his son’s life?
Will Jr.’s heart galloped as he fingered the memory organizer. He worked the symbol with such intensity that one of the triangles started to shift. At first, he feared he had broken it, but he soon realized the triangles were moveable. He spun the first one until its tip pointed upward. He then went to work on the second one. The two triangles were now inverted.
Nothing happened for a few seconds; then the flaps flipped open. The rest of the metallic surface sectioned into thin points and bloomed outward like a flower, revealing a circular depression. It did not take Will Jr. long to figure out the indentation was perfectly sized to accommodate one of the numbered discs.
Will Jr. retrieved the first disc and slipped it into the memory organizer. He watched, wide-eyed, as the metallic barbs folded inward, trapping the disc. Soon after, the triangles followed suit.
Nothing happened. Will Jr. was not surprised. He sensed the memory organizer would not activate until he rotated the triangles.
“Please work,” he whispered as he twisted the first triangle. It clicked into place. The second followed suit moments later.
Will Jr. waited with breathless anticipation.
Nothing happened.
Seconds ticked by and still the memory organizer remained dormant. Will Jr. was about to give up when it finally came to life.
A dozen metallic legs emerged from the perimeter of the device. They flexed and felt around as if looking for something. It reminded Will Jr. of an overturned spider, struggling to right itself. He chuckled, too stunned to be afraid.
The metallic insect worked its little legs for a few more seconds before finding anchor on Will Jr.’s hand. Using it as leverage, it righted itself and started scurrying around.
Will Jr. recoiled. The memory organizer flew out of his hand and soared through the air before vanishing between two dusty boxes. For a few blissful seconds the teenager was safe, then the metallic insect scurried out of the darkness, its tiny legs clicking on the wooden floor.
Will Jr.’s heart leapt at the sight of the memory organizer. He shuffled backward and slammed into an old dresser. Dust filled the air, causing him to cough. He watched through tear-filled eyes as the robotic insect scuttled forward. He knew he should be afraid, yet deep down he sensed the metallic spider meant him no harm. In fact, it advanced in a hesitant, almost curious manner.
“You don’t want to hurt me, do you?” asked the young man.
The memory organizer did not respond. It simply marched forward, nearing the trapped teenager. Will Jr. watched, unmoving, as the insect scurried up his leg. He did not even react when it climbed onto his left hand and stood there, seemingly staring at him with its inexistent eyes. It was not until it leapt onto his wrist that he realized his mistake. By then, it was too late.
“Ow!” yelped Will Jr. as the memory organizer’s legs wrapped themselves around his wrist. He tried yanking it away, but the metallic insect was too powerful. It encircled his wrist, its thin legs merging into a single band. Will Jr. would undoubtedly have thought it looked like a watch if not for the fact that he was busy struggling to pry the parasitical device from his arm. But no amount of willpower could keep the memory organizer from shifting its body so the symbol on its underbelly lined up with the one on Will Jr.’s arm.
Pain erupted from the teenager’s wrist as soon as the two symbols aligned. It felt like his birthmark was on fire, yet there was no heat. He tried to scream, but his voice was gone. Powerless, he watched as the memory organizer started glowing. Its brightness increased until it enveloped his entire hand. Oddly enough, the pain had all but vanished by the time the mysterious white light seeped through his skin and into his wrist.
“Wh-what’s happening to me?” croaked Will Jr. as the light slowly crept up his arm. Only, it was not travelling along his arm, but rather within it. Desperate to rid himself of the mysterious glow, he tried to grab it with his free hand, but the light slithered on, unaffected. It crept past his elbow and up toward his shoulder. It entered his neck and slowly rose toward his head. He could no longer see it, but he felt it progress through his body.
What would happen when it reached his brain?
“No,” he groaned as the light invaded his head. The world went white. Pain exploded within him like an atomic bomb of misery. He tried calling for help, but his voice, just like his vision, was gone.
Will Jr. was alone. All alone.
The pain intensified until, finally, it became too much for his body to handle, and he lost consciousness.
Will Save
I ’m blind. The thought echoed throughout Will Jr.’s mind as he scanned his surroundings. There was nothing but darkness. No source of light. No supernatural glow. Yet, somehow, he could still see his body.
That’s weird.
Will Jr. was not afraid. Nor was he worried. He was merely curious.
Where am I?
He looked around once more, but there was nothing for him to see. Then why could he feel the ground beneath his body? Come to think of it, he could still sense the dresser pressed against his back. He glanced over his shoulder, but there was nothing there.
It was all so illogical, so confusing. There was but one rational explanation.
“Am I dead? Is this the afterlife?”
Will Jr. did not expect an answer, yet he received one.
“No.”
The voice came from behind him. Heart hammering, Will Jr. jumped to his feet and spun around. Standing a few metres before him was a man. He didn’t look very threatening, yet Will Jr. kept his distance.
The man was a few years older than him. He had an athletic build and exuded youthful vigour. His beard stubble was patchy, giving him an almost dirty look.
Will Jr. knew he had never before met this man, yet there was something familiar about him.
“Who are you?” he asked.
The stranger smiled. It was a sincere grin, the kind that lit up a room. Somehow, that made him seem even more familiar.
“I know this must be confusing—” began the man.
Will Jr. scoffed. “That’s the understatement of the century.”
“—but it will all make sense soon enough,” continued the man, ignoring the teenager’s sarcastic remark.
He paused long enough to give Will Jr. another one of his broad smiles.
“This will be hard to accept,” he warned. “I’m your father.”
Silence. It was everywhere. Omnip
resent. Omnipotent.
“That’s impossible,” finally blurted out the teenager. “You’re too young to—”
The man cut him off, though he did not seem aware of it. Will Jr. did not listen to the words pouring from his mouth. He had just realized the man was not real. He hesitantly reached out and waved his hand in front of the man’s face. There was no reaction. He tried touching him, but his hand went right through him.
A hologram.
The man was nothing more than a representation of the person he had once been. For some reason, that brought a smile to Will Jr.’s lips.
Maybe he is my father. His heart started racing, and his hands shook with excitement as he studied his so-called father.
The man appeared quite weary and rather dirty, but if you removed the filth and the unkempt facial hair, he shared quite a few similarities with Will Jr. In fact, they could have passed for brothers. Or father and son.
It was not until the hologram revealed his left wrist that Will Jr. suspicions were confirmed.
An hourglass symbol adorned his skin.
The mark was identical to the one on the memory organizer but for one small detail. The symbol was inverted; the top triangle was empty, and the bottom one was full. Will Jr. did not know what it meant, but he could tell it was a bad sign. On the plus side, Will Jr. now had proof of the hologram’s identity.
“Dad,” he croaked. His father’s hologram did not respond, but Will Jr. could have sworn he winked. It may have been a mere glitch in the programming, but Will Jr.’s heart swelled with joy.
Will Jr. had so many questions. Why had his father not been there to raise him? Was he dead or alive? And what of the birthmark? Why was it upside down? What did it all mean? So many questions, and not a single answer.
Will Jr. was so busy rejoicing he failed to realize his father was still talking. Suddenly aware the recording could not be paused, he stilled his frenzied mind and focused on his father’s words.
“…I was not there to raise you, but please know that I love you more than words can describe,” said Will Sr. as tears trickled down his cheeks.
