The Nibiru Effect

Memory 64

We're trapped. I should be used to it by now, but the revelation hits me as hard as ever. I stare at the smooth stone wall, shoulders slumped and a look of utter defeat plastered across my face.

"Any ideas?" I ask.

Kara shakes her head.

"Should we go back?" I wonder.

"There's nothing to go back to."

She's right. Retracing our steps would lead us back to the bottom of the stone half-pipe. Since it's too steep to climb, returning to it would achieve nothing.

That leaves only one option.

"We must climb," announces Kara.

I gulp. The mere thought of scaling the cliff makes my hands shake. Beads of cold sweat appear on my forehead. My knees wobble, and it takes all the strength I have just to keep from collapsing.

"We can't," I say.

"You're right," agrees Kara.

"Maybe we can go around," I offer, desperate to avoid the cliff.

We glance left and right, but the stone wall seems to stretch on forever.

"We could climb one of the trees and use its branches to reach the top of the cliff," suggests Kara.

"I don't think that'll work," I say as I nervously eye the trees. The trunks are massive and the branches far too high for us to reach.

"Maybe we could—" begins Kara, but I cut her off before she can finish.

"There's no way up."

"There's always a way."

Kara takes a step forward and starts inspecting the wall. It doesn't take long for her to notice the dozens of vertical lines that riddle the cliff's shiny surface. Each one is roughly a metre in width and appears to have been painted on using some sort of see-through goo. It dried long ago, yet it's still a little sticky to the touch.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I'm not sure," admits Kara. "Perhaps—"

Her voice trails off when she spots something behind me. I hesitate for a moment before turning around. What I find is so unexpected I don't know how to react.

A black sphere.

It stands a dozen meters away. I have no idea how it got there, but its presence bodes well for our friends. Perhaps Jonn and Korri are still alive. But I forget all about that when two more giant marbles emerge from the jungle. Only, they don't roll along as balls normally do. They slither forward atop gooey red masses. It's such an odd sight I don't immediately recognize the spheres for what they truly are.

"Oh my god!" I gasp. "They're snails."

Now that I've identified the giant prehistoric mollusks, I find it difficult to see them as anything else. Their shells are more spherical than modern snails, and their bodies are the brightest shade of red I have ever seen, yet there's no denying what they are. Their eye stalks—more commonly known as tentacles—are as big as my arms and their eyes as massive as my clenched fists, but they're otherwise identical to the snails I used to play with as a kid.

"What's a snail?" asks Kara. I'm surprised until I remember she grew up in an underwater city.

"They're land mollusks," I explain. "We have some in my time, but these are way bigger."

"Are they dangerous?" asks Kara as one of the giant snails starts moving toward her.

"They're harmless," I say. I have no proof of this, but I'm pretty sure prehistoric snails are inoffensive. That is, as long as they're not rolling around.

The snail stops less than thirty centimetres from Kara. It hesitates for a moment, then adjusts its trajectory and resumes its journey. The other two soon follow. Before long, dozens more emerge from the forest. Within seconds, we're surrounded. I'm slightly worried, but the snails slither past without paying us any mind. I'm not sure what they're up to until they start scaling the stone wall. The smoothness of the surface, combined with the sticky nature of the mucus that oozes from their underbellies allows them to defy gravity and progress up the cliff at a slow but steady pace. It also explains those lines of dried goo Kara noticed earlier.

It's an odd sight, but it's also quite beautiful. Unfortunately, the magic of the moment is shattered when Kara comes up with a brilliant, yet terrifying idea.

"I know how to get to the top," she announces. She doesn't even give me time to object before scaling the nearest snail and hanging onto the lip of the shell. Moments later, she's on her way up the cliff. I watch with a mixture of awe and disbelief as the prehistoric snail carries my friend away from me.

"What are you waiting for?" asks Kara. "Pick a snail and hop on."

I'm too terrified to respond. I simply stand there, limbs shaking and sweat leaking from every pore.

"What's wrong?" asks my friend.

It takes a moment before I muster the strength to speak. When I finally do, my voice sounds squeaky and high-pitched.

"I-I'm afraid of heights."