by G Sauvé
Salt ‘n’ Pepper grunts and crosses his arms.
“I’ll do my best to answer all of your questions,” Barbie tells me, “but I think it would be best if we introduce ourselves first.”
“That would be nice,” I admit, though part of me will miss thinking of the grey-haired soldier as “Salt ‘n’ Pepper.”
“I’m Kara,” says the former Barbie. “This is my father, Jonn.”
“That’s with two ‘N’s,” says Jonn. “Don’t you forget it.”
I ignore him and introduce myself.
“I’m Will.” I would normally use my full name, but since neither Jonn nor Kara offered theirs, I decide to keep mine a secret. At least, for now.
Now that we’re all friends—well, sort of—it’s time for me to get some answers.
“Where are we?” I ask.
Jonn chuckles.
“What’s funny?” I wonder.
“The question you should be asking is not ‘where are we,’” says Kara, “but rather ‘when are we?’”
What the hell does that mean? I’m about to ask when Kidd’s insane story about time travel comes back to me. It would explain a lot, though I’m terrified of the implications such a revelation carries.
“Are you saying…” I begin, but fear keeps me from finishing the question.
“That’s right,” says Kara. “We’re in the past.”
Memory 21
T ime travel is impossible. Isn’t it?
“You’re kidding, right?” I ask. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
Kara shakes her head. Jonn chuckles.
That can’t be good. I have no idea whether or not I believe in time travel, but I choose to keep an open mind. For now.
“Okay,” I say. “We’re in the past,”—I can’t believe I just said that—“but when exactly are we? And how do we get back to our own time?”
Jonn scoffs again, but Kara shuts him up with a well-timed glare.
“Time travel is complex,” she says. “We have barely scratched the surface when it comes to harnessing its power. We only know two things for sure. One: We can jump from one passing of Nibiru to the next by using the weak points it creates in Earth’s timeline. Two: The only way to jump from one weak point to the next it to use a ring.”
“A ring?” I ask. “Like the one my mother left me?”
Kara nods.
“All right,” I say. “What are we waiting for? Give me the ring, and let’s get the hell outta here.”
“It’s not that simple,” says Kara.
“What do you—” I begin, but Jonn cuts me off.
“We don’t have your ring.”
A heavy silence follows the revelation.
“Wha… Ho… Where is it?”
“Back in Atlantis,” says Kara.
That’s the second time someone mentions the fabled city of Atlantis, but I’m far too freaked out to care.
“Kidd was studying your ring,” continues Kara. “He was trying to understand how it works. We were going to see him when the portal appeared and brought us here.”
I don’t think I can handle dealing with the implications of what I just learned, so I choose instead to focus on less worrisome matters.
“Who is Kidd?” I ask.
“He’s not what he seems,” says Kara.
“What does that mean?”
“It’s complicated, but I’ll do my best to explain. Kidd is—”
“He’s a pain in the ass!” interrupts the grey-haired soldier. “He’s a hack, a selfish, good-for-nothing little—”
“Dad!” snaps Kara. I suspect this isn’t the first time he’s gone off like this. I wonder if this happens every time someone mentions Kidd.
“As I was saying,” says Kara, “Kidd isn’t what he seems. He may look like a child, but he’s older than Jonn.”
“How is that possible?”
“Kidd is, among many other things, an inventor. He created smart particles, nano-robots that have revolutionized the way our society functions. But not all of his inventions were revolutionary. After the success of smart particles, he decided to create the world’s first anti-ageing serum.”
“Did he succeed?”
Jonn scoffs. Kara merely nods.
“He did, but the serum did more than just halt the ageing process. It reversed it, causing him to grow younger.”
“Is that why he looks like a child?”
Kara nods.
“He managed to halt the process before it was too late, but now he’s forever trapped in the body of a child.”
“If you ask me, it’s kind of ironic,” says Jonn. “A guy named Kidd trapped in a kid’s body.”
He has a point, but Kara’s annoyed expression keeps me from agreeing. I decide to distract her with a question.
“How old is he?”
“Eighty-four.”
I should be surprised, but the truth is, learning Kidd’s true age is nothing compared to the insanity of the past few days.
“Why hasn’t he started ageing again?”
“He can’t,” says Jonn.
“So he’ll never grow old?”
Jonn shakes his head.
“On the plus side,” says Kara, “he will never die of natural causes.”
“He’s immortal?”
Jonn scoffs. “That remains to be proven.”
“All we know for sure is that Kidd is the smartest person in Atlantis,” says Kara. “If anyone can figure out how your ring works, it’s him.”
There’s a moment of silence before it finally hits me.
We don’t have a ring.
“We’re trapped, aren’t we?” I ask. As much as I want to deny the fact that we’re in the past, it’s becoming increasingly difficult.
Kara nods.
“We’re trapped,” agrees Jonn, “but only until I get my hands on Avalon.”
“There’s no proof she’s behind this,” says Kara.
“Who else would do this?”
Kara doesn’t answer.
“Who’s Avalon?” I ask.
“She’s pure evil,” says Jonn. He clears his throat and spits as if to indicate Avalon, whoever she is, is worth less than a glob of mucus.
I glance at Kara for confirmation.
“Avalon is the woman you saved at the subway station,” she explains.
Jonn glares at me but says nothing. He doesn’t have to. We all know it’s my fault Scar La—I mean Avalon—got away. And, if Jonn’s theory is correct, I’m also responsible for our current predicament.
Why couldn’t I mind my own business? Why couldn’t I let Jonn kill her? Then again, Avalon is the only person—other than my mother—capable of helping me decipher the meaning of my hourglass symbol. Or is she?
“Do either of you know what this symbol means?” I ask, revealing my left wrist.
Jonn and Kara study it, but neither knows anything of use.
“Why would Avalon send us here?” I ask. “For that matter, where are we?”
“When,” corrects Jonn.
“Whatever.”
“There are many reasons why Avalon would send my father and me here,” admits Kara.
“But why send him?” asks Jonn, pointing to me. “He’s worthless.”
I want to argue that I’m not worthless, but given the circumstance, I prefer to be of no value to Avalon.
“That still doesn’t explain when we are,” I point out.
“We should explore,” says Jonn.
I’m about to agree with him when the blood drains from Kara’s face.
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” she says, pointing at something behind me. Jonn follows her gaze, and his face goes slack. I hesitate for a moment, then turn around.
Standing before me, mere metres away, is a dinosaur.
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 distan
ce 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.
“Thanks,” I call after him.
“Don’t thank me,” he says. “Just walk faster.”
I feel indebted to Jonn for saving me, but does he have to be such an ass?
“Just ignore him,” Kara tells me as she offers me her hand once more. This time I take it, and she pulls me to my feet. I wince at the pain that erupts from my feet, but I ignore it.
“Why does he hate me so much?” I ask.
“Don’t take it personally,” says Kara. “He hates everyone.”
That sounds about right.
“Are you two coming?” calls Jonn from ahead. “We’re burning daylight.”
“Do you think you can keep going?” asks Kara.
I nod, too proud to admit how much pain I’m in. We head off and, now that Kara is with me, Jonn lets up on the constant prompts to speed up. It’s a welcome relief, but the silence reminds me I have a myriad of unanswered questions.
“Where are you from?” I ask.
Kara’s lips curl into a sad smile. I guess I’m not the only one who’s homesick.
“We live in a place called Atlantis,” she says. “It’s three Nibiru cycles before your time.”
I quickly do the math and discover Kara is nearly eleven thousand years old. At least by modern-day standards. In reality, she’s approximately my age.
“Atlantis,” I say thoughtfully. “Is that where I was held?”
Kara nods.
“Why did they keep me locked up?”
“The Atlantean Council—they run Atlantis—decided it would be safer to keep you contained until we could figure out whether or not you were working with Avalon.”
“They think I’m working with her?” I ask.
“You did help her escape,” reminds Kara. “And you almost got us killed.”
She’s right.
“And you?” I ask. “Do you think I’m working with Avalon?”
It takes her a while to answer.
“I can’t quite figure you out, but I don’t think for a second you’re working with Avalon.”
“And your dad? What does he think?”
Kara chuckles.
“He doesn’t like you, but he knows you’re not the enemy. If he perceived you as a threat, he wouldn’t have saved you.”
I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. On the one hand, Jonn saved my life—well, sort of—and I’m grateful for it. On the other, he may one day change his mind and decide to betray me.
“What’s Atlantis like?” I ask.
Kara’s eyes light up.
“It’s beautiful,” she says. “It lies at the bottom of the ocean, and it’s the most beautiful city in the world.”
“You live underwater?” I ask. “How do you breathe?”
Kara chuckles. “A dome protects the city. It was built long ago when the island upon which it stands sank.”
I’m about to inquire further when I notice Jonn has stopped. He leans against a tree, waiting for us to catch up. One of his hands is raised, a silver locket trapped between his thumb and forefinger. He gazes at it and smiles. In the brief moment it takes him to notice me staring, he seems almost like a normal human being.
“What are you looking at?” he snaps as he tucks the locket into his shirt.
“No-nothing,” I blurt out. For some reason, I feel as though I just intruded on a personal moment.
He glares at me for a second, then walks off.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“It’s complicated,” admits Kara.
We walk in silence for a while before I come up with another question.
“We come from different times. Why can I understand you?”
I’ve always had an ear for languages, but this is different. I could communicate with Jonn and Kara from the very beginning.
“My father and I have been implanted with subdermal microchips,” she explains. “They allow us to speak and understand most dialects.”
“Do all Atlantis… ians have microchips?”
“Atlanteans,” she corrects. “And no. Only my father and I are chipped. Without them, we wouldn’t be able to communicate with the inhabitants of the different times we visit.”
It makes sense.
“What about Avalon? Does she have a chip too?”
“I don’t know,” admits Kara.
“Tell me about her,” I urge. The more I know, the better.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
Kara chuckles.
“That would take hours.”
“It’s not like I have anywhere to be.”
Kara’s lips curl into a smile.
“All right,” she says. “I’ll do my best.”
She takes a moment to gather her thoughts.
“Did you know she was the one who discovered time travel?”
I shake my head.
“She was the first to possess a ring. Without her, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“How did she get the ring?”
“No one knows,” admits Kara. “Some say she created it. Others claim she stole it. A few believe it just showed up on her doorstep. All I know is that no one, especially not Avalon, should possess the power of time travel.”
“Why?” I ask, but Jonn cuts in before she can answer.
“It’s my turn to ask questions,” he says. “Who are you?”
“I already—” I begin, but the grey-haired soldier cuts me off.
“Who are you really? You claim not to know Avalon, yet you saved her. Twice. Why would you do that if you’re not working with her?”
“Dad—” begins Kara, but Jonn silences her with a glare.
I’m on my own.
I take a moment to gather my thoughts. There’s much I haven’t told Jonn and Kara, yet I can’t seem to decide where to begin. Should I start with the dream that started it all, or with my mother giving me up? Should I mention the letter and the ring she left me, or should I keep that information to myself? Should I—
“I’m waiting,” growls Jonn. He steps forward and presses an accusing finger into my chest. “Are you working with Avalon?”
My first instinct is to deny the implication, but the heat that erupts from my chest distracts me.
“No!” I groan as pain explodes within my chest. It spreads like wildfire. Within seconds, I’m on the ground, writhing in pain.
“What did you do?” says a worried voice. It must be Kara, but I can’t be sure because my vision is blurred with tears.
“Nothing,” protests Jonn “I just touched him.”
I feel Kara’s hands on me, but it has no effect. The pain intensifies until I can barely stand it. I black out for a second, and when I come to Jonn and Kara are standing over me. I can barely see their faces through my tears, but I manage to focus long enough to see their stunned expressions. I don’t understand why until I see my hand.
It’s growing. The skin tone is changing, becoming darker with each passing second. Even my nails are mutating. They go from clean and close-cropped to dirty and crackled.
