by Jack Geurts
The crowd was still gathered there, albeit a lot further off. He could see the front row of horrified faces lit up by the flames as they watched the titanic struggle take place.
If the tornado and the ring of fire and the bellowing roar hadn’t been terrifying enough, Jasper was willing to bet that the sight of these two prehistoric monsters would be. It would have appeared to them like a gigantic lizard and an equally-large bird, being ridden by figures not unlike themselves. Figures that seemed almost...human.
Janus flew low over the crowd and they scattered like ants beneath it, screaming and running for their lives. Some of them took shelter in the squat, stone dwellings nearby, others simply ran. Jasper gave chase, the crowd parting before him as the theropod’s footsteps shook the ground, their screams drowned out as it roared.
He did his best to act as the dinosaur’s eyes, directing its massive feet into the gaps between people and huts so as not to crush anyone. It was kind of like a giant game of hopscotch, only the stakes were a little higher.
If the Norte Chico had been a more warlike people, they might have thrown spears or hurled stones, but no resistance was offered. It wouldn’t have done much good even if they were Roman legionaries, Jasper thought, or Spartan hoplites.
Soon, they had left the houses and the screaming masses behind, and were setting out across the plain. Jasper was guided only by the light of the moon and stars, which were very bright, casting the land in an eerie, silver glow.
The blind G-Rex continued chomping at the pterosaur whenever it got close, even leaping a little off the ground at times. But then the Quetzal would simply beat its wings and put more distance between them. Janus was toying with him – if he really wanted to get away, he could. But he didn’t want to get away. He was leading them somewhere.
But where?
Jasper looked out ahead and saw the Main Pyramid rising up at the far side of the plain – they seemed to be heading straight for it. And now that they weren’t confined by the ring of fire or the people, he could really turn the G-Rex loose. It thundered across the ancient city beneath the stars, snapping its jaws at the pterosaur and roaring in frustration.
Jasper felt like a knight on horseback, galloping across an open field into battle, or a cowboy charging across the desert to some final showdown that would decide his fate.
The latter scenario made him wish he still had the hat.
Without it, his hair whipped about as they tore across the plain. Tears streamed back toward his ears, and Jasper told himself it was the wind that was making his eyes water, but the image of Io’s unmoving body hadn’t faded from his mind.
As they drew near to the pyramid, the Quetzal left them in the dust, flying upwards and circling the structure in a wide, soaring arc, wings fully extended. The enormous avian blocked out the moon as it passed in front of it, then came to rest on the very top of the pyramid. It perched there, waiting.
This pyramid was even bigger than the first – a series of ramps led up to its peak. Jasper skirted around the amphitheatre laid out at its base, then charged up the first ramp and along the stone walkway, then up another ramp that led to the next level. It appeared that the path spiralled around the pyramid in a counter-clockwise direction, climbing higher and higher with each ramp – the walkways in between being flat and nearly too narrow for the G-Rex to pass along.
It was almost as if the pyramid hadn’t been made to accommodate dinosaurs.
A few times, an edge crumbled under the theropod’s weight and its foot slipped out, sending down a shower of dust and stone to the lower levels. Luckily, Jasper managed to keep it from toppling over and taking him with it. They righted themselves, acting with one brain, one set of eyes – the dinosaur as much a part of Jasper and Jasper was of the dinosaur.
They kept moving past doorways leading into the pyramid, into rooms and chambers which, in other circumstances, Jasper would have longed to investigate – especially since they were all still in pristine condition.
Nevertheless, he saw Janus up there waiting for him, perched on the pterosaur that was perched on the top of the pyramid. He urged his G-Rex on, pressing it to go as fast as it could within the confined space of the walkway.
As they crested another ramp not far from the summit, Jasper heard a flap of wings and glanced up to see that Janus was gone. He panicked and looked around wildly, losing focus for a moment and almost riding his dinosaur straight off the edge. He pulled back on the telepathic reins, bringing the G-Rex to a skidding halt just as its head went out over the drop, taking Jasper with it.
He froze. Looked down. There he was, hovering in mid-air, far above the earth – the theropod’s giant foot balanced precariously, its large claws dangling over the side. Any movement was likely to cause the ledge to crumble underneath them.
Slowly, Jasper walked the dinosaur back – only when they were safe did he do a sweep for Janus. Far below, the moon was glinting off the rivers and canals that threaded through acres of fertile green.
But no sign of Janus anywhere.
And then, another flap. Much closer this time...
Jasper swung around to see the pterosaur with its talons raised, closing in fast.
There was no time to move, to even think. The Quetzal’s claws hooked into the exposed flank of the G-Rex and threw it back against the wall.
Jasper was jolted harshly as his mount slammed against the stone. Its inside leg buckled, causing the beast to drop a little. It roared in pain, and as Janus flew up and away again, Jasper looked down to see the gaping claw-holes in the side of his dinosaur, the flesh torn and bleeding.
Once again, he stroked the G-Rex’s neck, trying to comfort it as best he could.
“Come on, buddy,” he said. “Let’s finish this.”
And with those words, the mighty dinosaur rose back up onto its feet. It was a little shaky at first, but when Jasper considered that it had just had its eyes torn out and its side ripped into, he was surprised the creature was even standing at all. It pressed on up the remaining ramps, not running any more, but lumbering – staggering like a dazed boxer.
As they came to the summit, Jasper saw the Quetzal perched on top of the shrine, waiting for them. The shrine was little more than four stone pillars with a ceiling and a fire-pit underneath – a place to make burnt offerings, it seemed.
The two dinosaurs and their riders stood there, facing off at the top of a pyramid, four thousand years in the past. The G-Rex was wounded and sluggish from the climb, while the pterosaur clicked its blood-wet talons, thirsty for more.
Jasper’s mount let loose a bellowing roar and he charged, like a knight into battle. As they neared the shrine, the Quetzal leapt into the air and hovered where the G-Rex couldn’t reach. It roared again in frustration.
Janus flew his winged mount in a wide arc, first away from the pyramid, then back toward it. Jasper wasn’t sure if he was planning the same attack he’d carried out earlier, but just in case, he moved the G-Rex behind the shrine and apparently out of harm’s way.
But that wasn’t what Janus had planned.
Instead, as he flew past, he briefly removed his gloved hand from the pterosaur’s back and fired a blast of red Elemental at them. Jasper, without any other way to defend himself, had to lift his own glove to bat the blast down into the top of the pyramid.
The impact sent up a cloud of dust and debris, temporarily blinding Jasper in the haze. He turned around every which way, trying to see Janus – but with the dark of night and the dust, he was about as useful as his mount when it came to spotting danger.
Another blast of red Elemental came out of nowhere and Jasper had less than a second to bat it away, sending it out to the side. The dust was settling now, and Jasper could see the Quetzal banking around far away to make another pass at him.
He needed to bring it down somehow, so Janus wouldn’t have the advantage. He could try to return fire with a blast of his own, but that was too obvious, too easy to deflect.
&nbs
p; Then it hit him.
Remembering his foray into the Emperor’s tomb, Jasper reached into his pocket and took out the spearhead he’d stolen from the Terracotta Warrior. The thing felt heavy in his hand, ancient and apparently useless without its pole. But the tip was still pointed, the blade still sharp...
He clocked the pterosaur gaining on him, closing the gap...
Jasper removed his glove from the G-Rex and took the spearhead in his glowing green fingers. He laid his bare hand on the dinosaur’s neck to steady himself, then closed his eyes and focused, channelling all his energy into the pointed blade until it began glowing also.
The flap of wings echoed in his ear like the beating of his own heart, louder and louder as it neared...
He opened his eyes as Janus took his own hand off the Quetzal and prepared to loose another bolt of Elemental. But before he got the chance, Jasper lined him up and threw the spearhead as hard as he could...
The glowing blade streaked through the air like a shooting star, too fast for Janus to block or even notice. As he raised his gloved hand, the spearhead went straight through it – piercing his palm and his chest and coming out through his spine. Jasper didn’t see it again after that.
What he did see was Janus’ mouth go slack and the pterosaur swerving off course as the Mind-link was severed. Unfortunately, instead of swerving away from the G-Rex, it swerved toward it, and Jasper’s theropod raised up to its full height, snatching it right out of the air in its powerful jaws.
The Quetzal screeched as it was shaken violently like a chew toy in the mouth of a dog. When it was done, the G-Rex cast its mangled body down against the shrine. The stone pillars crumbled beneath it and Janus lay there, pinned between the ruins and his dead mount.
Jasper walked the theropod over to where Janus lay, broken and bleeding on the stone. The translucent skull seemed to stare up at him without eyes. He was wheezing, his body crushed and punctured – not long for this world.
“You know...I am right...Jasper,” he said, starting and stopping with the pain. “Deep in your heart, you know...your people need to die...so your world...can live.”
The boy wondered how Janus knew his name or his philosophy, but then he remembered that Io had known who he was before they even met. She had accessed his ‘file’ – the same compilation of facts and observations that the Precursors allegedly kept on every human being ever to have lived. Janus wore on his wrist the same Window that she did, so maybe he had access to the same database.
“There was a time when I might’ve believed you,” Jasper said, from atop his saurian mount. “But you don’t want us gone to save our world. You want us gone so that you can have it.”
“We will not...take it for granted...as you do.”
“Maybe not. But your people got their second chance. My people deserve one, too.”
Janus saw that he wasn’t going to persuade him. He knew that he had lost, that this was it. And as he came to that realisation, a great weight was suddenly lifted off his shoulders. He wasn’t frightened or angry, but strangely...relieved. He was glad to have finally reached the end of his life – glad that he would not have to fight any more, that he would not have to kill.
Others would have to. Others would continue the fight. Others would one day see his dream realised, but he would not. And he was alright with that. He had done enough.
A part of him couldn’t help but respect the boy. He saw something of himself there, in those young eyes. The brave defender of his people. What other way could it have ended? Janus thought. He felt his mouth curl into a weak smile.
“You are not a boy any more,” he said. “You are a man. And I am...not ashamed...to be bested...by a man. But know something...once you kill me...you will always...be a killer. However noble you believe your intentions to be. There is no turning back...after this.”
Jasper hesitated, thinking on that for a moment – the line he was about to cross.
“A man can kill...if he has to. He will kill for his people...for his family...”
At the mention of the word, Jasper saw the faces of his mother and father flash before his eyes. He felt that same coldness spread throughout his body.
“I’m not going to kill you,” Jasper said. “He is.”
At that moment, the G-Rex planted its enormous foot on the dead pterosaur, and Janus gasped as the air was pushed from his lungs. The theropod lowered its head until the end of its snout was almost touching Janus’ face, sniffing at him.
Neither had eyes to see, yet both knew the other was there – the dinosaur savouring its victory, the rider accepting his fate. The same fate he had condemned Jasper’s parents to.
Then the G-Rex opened its jaws and brought them shut around Janus. The rider never made a sound.
Jasper sat there while his dinosaur fed, feeling nothing. Feeling neither righteous nor guilty, just numb. It was similar to the way he had felt when he thought he killed Janus in the Emperor’s tomb – the same disappointment he had experienced in not knowing returned to visit him now, and he wasn’t sure why.
He didn’t know what he expected to feel – maybe that he had done right by his parents and brought their killer to justice. Or that he had done right by his planet and his people – now that Janus was dead, the way was open for him to follow the map to its conclusion. To find what the Precursors had left behind to save humanity.
He told himself that no one would ever know. That people would continue to live and work and love, never knowing what he had done to ensure their survival. He told himself that what he had done was a selfless act, a necessary evil for the greater good. He told himself that this man had killed his parents, that he might have killed Io, that he was prepared to wipe out the entire human race. He told himself he didn’t actually kill Janus, that the dinosaur had done that.
But even he knew that was the weakest excuse of all.
No matter what he told himself, the hollowness in the pit of his stomach didn’t go away, and maybe it never would. However noble he believed his intentions to be, however monstrous he believed his enemy to be, the fact remained – he had taken a life. He had killed someone. There was no turning back now.
All he wanted was to get back to Io, hoping that she was still alive.
The dinosaur finished feeding, and as it lifted its head, Jasper saw something on the ruins. He directed the G-Rex to lower its head so he could climb off onto the ground. His legs were a little wobbly, like setting foot on land after being at sea, but he managed to clamber over the pterosaur to where Janus had lain, all the while running his hand along the theropod’s stooped neck.
There, on the bloodied ruins of the shrine, was Janus’ gloved hand, severed at the forearm – the Window still strapped to his wrist. Jasper used his free hand to unclasp the tablet computer, then proceeded to strap it to his own wrist.
With that done, he mounted up again and rode back down the pyramid, leaving the dead pterosaur sprawled across the ruins, the tips of its massive wings dangling over the edges of the uppermost level.
Jasper and his dinosaur picked their way down the series of ramps and walkways, and before he knew it, they were running back across the plain, the wind in his hair and the ring of fire like a beacon in the distance.
When he arrived at the cluster of houses, there was no one to be seen. The stone huts were dark and he imagined the people huddled within, watching him go by, wondering if they needed to be afraid of him – if he was the good guy or the bad guy. Jasper was wondering that himself.
He passed back through the flame wall and dismounted again beside Io. Dia had been resting his head on her chest and looked up as Jasper approached, a wordless plea for help in his eyes. The boy kept his glove on the stooped neck of the dinosaur, and ran his other trembling hand over Io’s face, not knowing what to do.
Her eyes were closed and she didn’t appear to be breathing. He recalled Io saying that if a person was dead or close to death, there was very little chance of bringing them back. E
ven if he could take his glove off the G-Rex long enough to heal her without it eating them, what good would it do?
Instead, he lay his bare hand on her chest and felt the crater where her breastplate had been broken. Io had said that Jasper was lucky when only his shoulder was dislocated – if he had been hit in the chest or stomach, if any of his vital organs had been damaged, there wasn’t much she believed she could do. And if there wasn’t much she could do, what good was he?
He imagined the blow her heart had taken, her lungs. The most essential parts of her that were the same as those of him. The air they needed to breathe, the blood that flowed in their veins. Once again, he was reminded of just how similar they were, despite their external differences. Both of them likely descended from a common ancestor, however far back. Both of them joined over time and space, over millions of years and the distance between their two worlds. Both of them joined here and now.
As he gazed upon her lifeless body, tears began to fill his eyes and he wept.
He wept with one hand on the dinosaur, one hand on Io, and all around him, a ring of fire that refused to go out. As he cried, the G-Rex lowered itself into a prone position beside him, as if in some form of condolence. It nestled up to him like it was offering a shoulder to cry on, and Jasper leaned against its enormous head and did just that.
Presently, a wind began to pick up. A wind not unlike the one that had brought the dinosaur into existence. Sand and dust began whirling around, and the dinosaur started to dissolve right in front of him.
Sensing no more threat, Jasper took his hand off the G-Rex and arched his body over Io to protect her from the sandstorm. He pulled Dia in between them, angling his own face in close to Io’s and covering it with his glove, keeping his other hand on her chest – or what remained of her chest. The wind howled all around them, the sand lashing at his body and stinging his face.
And then it was still. The storm died as quickly as it started.
