Son of Atlantis

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Vaquero

Vaquero
by Christopher Pelletier
copyright 2010

Juan’s stallion, Lightning, snorted and stamped his front right hoof several times on the ground, wanting to run and stretch his legs a bit. The cattle were minding themselves fine, just chewing on the grass. Juan looked to the herd and wondered if he should slip away with his friend for a quick gallop. The day was bright, and the air was fresh, so he reckoned it was as good of time as any to ride. Besides, the cattle were not going anywhere.

The pair broke away from the herd of 200 plus head of cattle and galloped up a green slope. Juan's straw sombrero fell back, but his chinstrap caught it from flying away to the ground. His long black hair tickled his cheek as the breeze tossed it in his face. The sun warmed him, and he felt joy from escaping the drudgery of watching his cattle.

At the peak of the incline, he surveyed his herd set against the landscape. No trees obstructed his view. The sea of grass just rolled on to the horizon in every direction as far as his eyes could see. He took a moment to look southeast towards the hacienda, in case bossman Manuel was riding out to him with some news or orders for the herd. Or maybe Paco had recovered from his fever and was galloping to help out once again. But the lack motion from that direction told Juan he was going to spend another day spent alone. He worried that he would start talking to Lightning as if he were a person if no one came soon.

As Juan took in the surroundings, it triggered a memory from five years ago when he was ten years old on a burro in the same area with Papa watching the herd. His papa had been ill at the time with a deep cough which sounded like he was drowning. But Juan's tough old man managed to do what he had been raised and taught to do by Juan's grandpapa—get in the saddle. It was the vaquero way. Juan's papa had explained many times it was the vaquero's solemn duty to protect the herds, no matter what. Even though the cattle were not theirs, the beasts were the vaquero's responsibility. Papa had learned the trade from Grandpapa, who had learned it from the missionary at San Ramon. Friar Gomez, Papa had said, treated Grandpapa strictly, because he was a mestiso. But father Gomez had taught him the two most important things in life: about the Lord and about being a vaquero. So Grandpapa found salvation through God and through work, despite his heritage.

Juan missed Papa, who had died from the cough and was delivered into the bosom of the Lord. All that Papa had left behind was Juan’s mother, tools for the trade, his horse, and an apology for the debt with the hacienda that Juan was expected to pay back.

The credit debt Papa had run up had no real meaning to Juan. When Juan had needs, he could fill them at the hacienda and simply add to the debt, which, from his understanding, he slowly paid off with his work with the cattle. As his needs were few, he figured he would pay it off by the time he got married, whenever that might be.

But for now, his mind was free of such worries. He had to focus on the job and protect the hacienda's beef. Usually the task proved easy, but from time to time, a pack of coyotes would try to snatch some calves. But Juan and Lightning would storm in like a conquistador on his mount and break any attempts at his herd. He grew quite proficient with his bullwhip, and could command the attention of any cow or coyote with it. At times, though, he wished he could have a lance, like Grandpapa had before him. But the church had forbidden vaqueros to carry them several years ago. He was only allowed a knife and whatever he could make from hides: reatas lariates, a pole with leather loops, or his bull whip.

Juan breathed in the afternoon air and, going against his second nature, closed his eyes, putting his face to the sun. The May afternoon was not as hot as it would be in two months later, so his cotton shirt was tied up, but his open leather vest flapped in the breeze. He allowed himself a moment to relax his guard and enjoy.

All sense of time had vanished. Ah, Mama and Papa, if only you were here to enjoy this fine afternoon with me.

The breeze brushed his face once more, but Juan sensed something was changing. Perhaps it was the way the cattle were bawling. He opened his eyes and saw three riders approaching the herd from the north: vaqueros by the looks of them but somewhat different. He stood on his wooden stirrups and squinted to get a better view to see if he recognized them. One of the riders pointed to Juan with a long pole in his hand as they continued their ride. Juan flicked his reins and rode to meet the strangers. The closer he got, the stronger the sinking feeling upset his stomach.

The three riders were dressed vaquero style, but carried the forbidden long lances with a blade at the ends. His own pole with a lasso attached was at his shelter some leagues off.

Juan rode up to the trio and said, "Buenos dias. Who—"

One of the riders in a burgundy felt sombrero raised his eight foot lance and held the blade close to Juan's face. Juan sat motionless and prayed Lightning would not suddenly move
towards the blade.

"Buenos dias, amigo," said the lance bearer. He looked in his mid-twenties, had a thin moustache of whiskers covering his top lip, and strands of black hair hanging from his tanned chin. The scar on his right cheek ran from his left eye to his ear. His dirty clothes were that of a common vaquero, but his red sash, leather vest and hat were of higher quality. He also had several rings adorning his fingers.

Juan sat in his saddle in silence. The other two riders went to work gathering the cattle by taking a bull, allowing the rest of the herd to follow. Juan's dry throat finally croaked out, "What are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious, amigo? We are taking your cattle with us."

"But you can't."

The lance got closer to his throat. The rider said, "I’m Pedro La Morta, and I can see from the look on your face you’ve heard of me."

Who hadn't? Stories had it that La Morta was a vaquero turned robber and cattle rustler. He had not only taken cattle, but also lives of victims, or so the rumors went. The last known whereabouts of La Morta were further north. Juan cursed his incredibly bad luck which brought the bandit so far south. "Yes, I have heard of you, senior."

"Good. Then you know my reputation," he said with a wicked smile. "Have no fear, amigo.
I’m not in the habit of killing boys like you, no matter what they say."

"They say the devil got you."

"Perhaps he did."

La Morta scrutinized Juan some more, then dropped the point of his lance. With a thrust, he plunged the steel into Lightning's throat. Juan's horse went down with a pitiable last whiney, rolling his rider to the ground. Juan’s leg was almost pinned under his dying friend. Then Juan looked up into the leering eyes of La Morta who said, "You see, I don’t kill boys. Horses... well, I have no problems with killing them."

The bandit turned his horse and started after the herd that his two companions drove. He looked backto Juan and said with a wry smile, "Best you find a new profession, amigo. This one can be dangerous."

La Morta grabbed the wide brim of his sombrero and gave a little nod. Then he was gone among the strolling hooves of cattle.

Juan sat next to Lightning, stroking his dead horse.

If only Paco had been there. Maybe they could have protected the herd. Well, maybe La Morta

would have killed Paco, as he was older. Best he was not there.

As Juan watched the remnants of the herd trail off over a hill, the shock of what had just happened started to fade, and he was left with the thought of what to do next. The bossman was not there to give any orders.

Juan expected he would be whipped for losing the cattle. He failed in his duty as vaquero, and he failed his father who had taught him what he knew, and perhaps even God would not forgive that. At least, Juan thought he was beyond forgiving himself.

Lightning was dead at his feet, but there was nothing that he could do to change that. He would feel sad for his friend, but the grieving had to wait. The cattle were stolen and he knew what had to be done. He gathered his lariates, his whip, and his pole, then followed the well-blazed trail leading north. From experience, he knew it would be slow going. Maybe they could do five miles before nightfall, and chances are the bandits would be lazy and not push on into the night.

So, Juan stalked the herd, trying to stay out of sight of the bandits.

What am I going to do when I catch up? Oh, Papa, if you can, give me some help. If only Paco were with me…

His prayer buried itself in his heart. He crossed himself and moseyed on after the herd. He kept them in sight, and when nightfall came, he positioned himself on a slope keeping low.

The bandits did just as he thought they would. A small shelter made of tanned hides had been stretched over their standing lances. One of the bandits started a campfire, and they had slaughtered one of the cattle. Mescal flowed down the bandits’ throats as they gorged on cooked meat in an impromptu feast. Juan's stomach growled just imagining the succulent taste of the fresh beef. He realized he had not eaten since the morning. The jerky and water bladder in his saddle bags would have helped. But he would have to content himself by staying still and planning in the darkness what to do next.

The bandits' carefree ways showed them to be in no particular hurry. They must have thought they had gotten away with the cattle and were rejoicing over their new plunder. As the evening progressed and the fire's flames started to dim, one of the bandits took out a guitar. The
raucous noise of their singing filled the cool air. They laughed and praised themselves, clapping themselves on the shoulders. Juan wondered if he had ever been as happy as they were. Perhaps La Morta spoke the truth when he said to get a new profession.

The music died off, and the belches grew less frequent, and all turned to quietude with the occasional popping ember and shuffling of horses or cattle. The party was winding down, and
they got up to turn in for the night in the shelter. Opportunity was at hand.

But what to do?

Juan scratched his chin and looked up at the star-filled sky. Fortune granted him a moonless night, so he would have the cover of darkness. He knew what he had to do.

With great caution, so as not to spook the herd, he made his way to the horses. The bandit’s snores ripped through the tent. One of the horses gave a warning whiney and Juan froze. But
no one stirred in the tent. He thanked God for the liquor they had drunk. Juan dreaded the next step in his plan, but he had no choice. He unsheathed his blade and looked at the bandits’ mounts. There was a chocolate one, a white one with brown patches, and a black one that looked a lot like Lightning. That would be his new horse as payback.

But the other two horses were a problem. If he let them live, at least two bandits could chase after him. He had to kill the animals. The paint stood closest, and Juan looked into its big eye, which reflected the embers of the dying fire. Its eye was watery, like it was crying, as if it knew what was coming up. Juan bit his lip and brought the blade to the horse’s throat. His hand trembled, and he could not break from the horse’s sorrowful gaze.

Juan managed to close his eyes, and then let the blade slice. The leather tether which held the horse to a stake dropped to the ground.

It was free, as was his conscience. He cut the tether of the brown horse, too, and gave it a smack on the rump.

After a moment's search in the dark, he found the saddles piled together and he cut straps of two of them. He grabbed the last one and put it on the black horse. With a fluid movement and a swinging leg, Juan mounted his new horse. At first, it tensed its muscles with the new rider, but Juan soothed it with gentle strokes on its neck and flanks, whispering the calming
words that his father had taught him to say to uneasy horses. It gave in without a struggle.
He was up and ready to go.

A kick of his heels and a click of his tongue got the new horse in motion. Juan pulled the reins and went around the herd scanning for Max, the lead bull. It stood a head taller with larger horns than the other bulls, so even in the dark Juan could spot the familiar form. He coaxed the horse to the bull and lassoed the monster around the neck. He then took a leather line from the saddle and tethered the horns. With a couple tugs, the bull gave way and followed the horse, and the rest of the herd soon followed the leader. Juan drove them in a southerly direction.

He looked at the position of Venus and realized he did not have much time left until dawn, and he hoped the night's drinking kept the bandits asleep longer than usual.

Although a forlorn hope, he prayed the other horses had run far away, and La Morta would just leave him be. But he knew that was too much to wish for. He kept pressing the herd up a slope.

Dawn brought a sky the likes of which only God could paint. The fiery reds and oranges blazed in the sky. Rain was going to fall soon, he knew. The mare’s tail clouds from the day before gave the telltale sign, too. But the rain was not going to help him this morning. Only luck.

Juan stole a glance back over his shoulder and saw that his luck had just run out. The three bandits rode on two horses straight towards him.

Juan's throat tightened and his stomach had a sickly feeling. The blood flowing through his head pounded. He stopped his horse and watched the riders approach him by weaving through cattle. Juan felt like he was in a bad dream. The sun hid behind a blanket of clouds. He had hoped it might have been a clear day, like yesterday, giving him the advantage of the sun at his back when the trouble started.

The bandits called to their horses to stop. Then La Morta rode up on the paint within fifteen
feet of Juan. The bandit's face was tense at first, but softened after a moment. La Morta actually smiled and laughed. The other two bandits on the saddle-free brown horse looked confused.

"Buenos dias, amigo. It seems you’re a clever one. I like that. We woke up and found the cattle
gone, our two horses scattered and our saddles tampered with. Your ears would have burned with the curses those two had said. I have to say that I, too, said a few choice words. But we couldn’t curse your name because we didn’t know it."

The two companions chuckled.

"It's Juan," he said, not so much out of defiance but out of a courtesy to his enemy. If he was
killed today, the stories would be told that Juan Ramirez stood up to La Morta and did his father proud...

"Well, Juanito, you have guts, I'll give you that." La Morta raised his lance with his scythe blade pointing forward. This is it, thought Juan. I’ll join Lightning and my parents soon.

"Tell you what… How about you join us?"

The companions looked as shocked as Juan felt, but they dared not contradict their boss. La Morta gave them a glance as extra motivation to keep quiet.

"Well, what do you think? We go around and take from the Spaniards to make ourselves and our families happy. How does that sound?"

Juan did not expect the offer. "You actually give to others?"

La Morta shrugged and said, "Well, sometimes…when we have extra."

The companions snickered and ribbed each other. Juan furled his brow. "It doesn’t seem likely that you help anyone but yourselves."

"What difference does it make? The Spaniards helped themselves to our land and our people! You and I are both mestiso. We have no rights in their eyes and are no better than animals. They rob us of our days and give us a pittance in return. Do you have the life debt?"

The words brought Papa to mind.

"I see that you do, Juanito. Tell me, is that fair? You have to pay back the debt of your father
and his father before. They keep you locked and bound to them like a slave. That will fall upon your children, too, someday if you have any."

La Morta's words made sense, though Juan could not imagine a family of his own yet. He remained silent.

"You have the choice of a happy life with us or a hard life with your cattle. If you choose the hard life, then you are a fool, for you will not live to see tomorrow. With us, you will
see many days with wine, women, and song. What do you say?"

Juan scratched an itch on the side of his head. If he had any food in his stomach, he would have thrown it all up. Although the morning air was cool, sweat started to bead on his forehead. The moment of reckoning was at hand. He loosened a string on his belt which held his black and white braided whip in place and mentally prepared to grab his knife. When La Morta came, Juan would give as good as he got. He said, "Stealing isn’t only a crime against man, it’s a crime against God. These cattle are not yours for the taking, nor are they mine to give. It's my job to
protect them from people like you. I’ll try to do my best to be true to God and my father, rest his soul."

La Morta shook his head and looked down. "So, this is your answer then? There’s no coming
back from the trail you are riding down, amigo."

Juan stared at La Morta showing no emotion, as he had none inside. His mind had left his body, his fear had passed. There was only the moment of him, La Morta, the other bandits, and the cattle, all under a gray sky.

"So, be it, Juanito. I’ll send you to God now. H’ya!"

La Morta spurred his horse, and the spotted stallion jumped to life, lunging forward and digging into the turf as it propelled itself up the slope. La Morta's lance's blade pointed straight at Juan's head.

Patience, Juan told himself. Wait, wait.

Although the horse was charging, the slope slowed it down a lot. Juan judged the distance and grabbed his whip. In a flash it unfurled from its coil and snapped out like a serpent's tongue, lashing out and cracking just in front of the paint carrying La Morta. The horse reared up, whinnying out of surprise and fear.

Juan swung the braided leather whip around his head, leaned forward, flicked his wrist, and cracked the whip once more while aiming for La Morta's hand. This time the horse bucked its head up in the way and the leather connected with its left eye. The stallion flung itself back, crying out in pain, and gravity pulled it down the slope. La Morta clutched on to the crazed animal to keep from falling off, but the horse fell onto its back, landing on the screaming La Morta.

Through all of the commotion, Juan thought he could hear the snapping of bone, but he was unsure if it came from the horse, La Morta, or both.

After an anxious moment, the horse got up. However, La Morta would never rise again. Juan bowed his head, closed his eyes, and felt a tear slip through his tightly closed lids.

Juan's hand flew signing the cross again and again for the young man that he had just killed.

God forgive me. Papa, I hope I did the right thing. I didn’t want this. La Morta brought it on himself. I hope his departed spirit can forgive me.

When he lifted his head and opened his eyes, he saw La Morta's men bickering. The bandit sitting behind jerked the sleeve of the rider in front, and they turned and rode off without a glance or word. Perhaps they would be back for revenge. Perhaps they would go elsewhere and find a new boss and make the same mistakes. Juan did not care. They left him alone, and that was more than he had expected.

The body of La Morta lay in a broken heap. Juan tied up the horse to the lead bull and dug a gravewith his knife and hands in the soft turf. Rain started to fall, but Juan kept digging until it was deep enough. Papa's grave was rectangular, as he remembered, but La Morta's was more of oval-shaped. Juan dragged the soaked body, dumped it into the hole and filled it with the musty-smelling wet earth.

La Morta's lance rested on the wet grass nearby. Juan went over to it and, with several painful attempts, managed to break the haft over his leg. He lashed the shorter piece to the longer one to form a cross-bar and plunged the blade deep into the freshly dug earth. If La Morta were alive, he would have felt that.

The rain slacked off, and he knelt in the muddy mess on the ground, clasped his hands together, and bowed his head. With all of his heart he yearned for forgiveness for what he had done. Only God could forgive him, he had learned from a young age. He just wanted a sign that he could be forgiven for killing a man.

Tears rolled down his cheeks. Juan had an emptiness growing within his heart. He had no comfort. His head sunk low, but a nudge on his shoulder caused him to look up wide-eyed,
thinking it was the bandits. As he looked up, it was the paint stallion that he accidentally got in the eye. It prodded at Juan, beckoning him to stand up.

Juan grabbed the reign dangling under the horse's chin and pulled himself up. He stroked the horse's strong jaw covered with wiry fur and patted the side of its face. He looked at the mark that his whip had left and moved his hand to touch it, but the horse backed up a few steps, and Juan waited.

Please, forgive me...

The horse approached Juan and nestled its large head on Juan's chest. The tears would not stop. Juan knew he had been forgiven.

Trouble with T-Rex

The Trouble with T-Rex
by Christopher Pelletier

Copyright 2010

Dinosaurs were thought to be extinct. The truth is much more complicated than that. All
evidence suggested a mass extinction. Paleontologists tried to find missing
links, elusive bones, any traces to connect humans to the past in the epic quest of self-discovery of our species. At least, that’s what my professors at
Mars U tell me in class. Little did people know back then that those same dinos
were actually far away, both in location and in time.

My father was one of the specimen collectors for the Martian Dinosaur Preservation and Conservation Center—we just call it the Preserve. To date, there is no rival to the number of his successfully captured dinos--at least, not that I know of. When I was very young, he sometimes spoke of his adventures, going back in time, tagging the dinosaurs, and getting back home in
time for dinner. Most kids my age wanted nothing to do with their parents, and,
to a larger extent, I wanted my space, too, and I argued a lot with my folks.
But I have to admit that I wanted nothing more than to be a dinosaur collector,
too. But I'd never let my dad know that.

I'd been to the Preserve hundreds of times. Each time I acted like it was some big chore that was wasting my time. Secretly, though, my heart was pounding whenever I was there, seeing and hearing the living past. The presence of the dinos was surreal. How could such
huge creatures ever have existed? They were beautiful--and scary. I had always
wanted to see them in their natural habitat. Then an opportunity came.

I was a sophomore at Olympus Mons High School. Everyone knew me as the dino collector's
boy. It was expected that my dad's expertise was somehow passed on through the
genes, but I wasn't particularly good at math, so, naturally, science proved to be a difficult subject for me. I mean, the ideas of science thrilled me, but I couldn't get my brain around the numbers to see where the concepts had come from. Like my dad always said, "I don't know how our family transport works, but I love to use it." That was the relationship between me and science.

History was another topic that interested me, especially the history of Mars with its colonization and making it habitable for people by creating an artificial green house effect. The atmosphere warmed up, melting the polar ice cap, creating the small oceans and rivers of our planet. The people planted greenery like crazy to suck up the carbon dioxide and leave us oxygen. That was a couple hundred ofyears before I was born, but it fascinates me nonetheless. I was taught in junior high school that cause and effect is the ultimate nature of the universe. How interesting that history had kept to that axiom regarding thedisappearance of the dinosaurs.

As I recall, it was a Thursday evening when my dad came home late from work. I could tell his
face was trying to conceal something. I'd already finished dinner and was doing
my homework on the computer when he could hardly contain his enthusiasm.

"Kal," he said, "Laro and I were going to get some triceratops in a couple of
weeks. They're the ones with the three horns."

He didn't need to tell me what my favorite dinosaur looked like. I knew very well about the
two horns protruding just beneath its flared-out shielded skull, along with the
one horn sticking out from its beaked snout. As fierce as it looked, it was
actually a mild plant eater. Several specimens were already in the Preserve,
but I guess you can't have too many.

"Yeah?" I said, waiting to see where the conversation was going.

"Well, we decided that you're old enough now. I know it's not playing dodge ball or
anything like that, but if you like, you can come along."

Did I hear him correctly? "You mean I can go with you two?"

"That's my meaning. Unless you're too busy or don't want to."

"No, no. I want to." I let my excitement slip. My dad's face rounded into a tanned,
wrinkled smile.

"Well, we'll need to brief you, because, as you can guess, this is dangerous work.
Safety is first and foremost. It's not a game, Kal. It's gathering wild animals for
Martians."

"Yeah, I get it. I want to come."

My dad took out a small disc case from his pocket and handed it to me. "Well, in addition
to your regular homework, you'll need to study this. You've got two weeks.
It'll tell you about protocols, risk management, chronological adherences…"

The list of professional terms that he rattled off faded out. All that I thought about were
triceratops. I snatched the disc from him when he finished and said, "Thanks. I'll look at this."

He gave me a smile and headed to the living room to talk with my mom. I could hardly
wait to dive into the material. I took my public speaking school disc out of
the computer and flung it on the floor. The disc with the dino information
couldn't get into the drive fast enough. The slight whir of the machine’s
components told me that happiness was about to be mine. The crystals on my desk
lit up and the mid-air hologram began.

The introduction, which was narrated by a colleague of my dad's from the
university, was a bit dry and pedantic. "Dinosaurs existed millions of years ago, some were carnivorous whereas others were herbivores…” Blah, blah, blah. Tell me something I don't know.

My dad wanted me to study this, and he seemed really serious, which meant if I didn't take
this seriously I wouldn't be going dino hunting. I endured the rest of the
introduction since I couldn't fast forward through it and got to the
interactive menu. I swiped the air which brought me to the section on time
travel, as I had no idea how time travel worked. At first, the thought of it
kind of scared me a bit. To me, time travel seemed like standing on the edge of
a very tall building with a strong wind behind you. So much could go wrong
during the transport process when going back in history, and then you would be
dead, and worse yet, lost somewhere in infinity with no body left to be buried.

After a perusal of time travel—at least enough to give me some sense of reassurance about how
safe it is--I got into the nanites section and learned how advanced
nano-technology had become. I knew from history that people on Earth and Mars
had used it for medical and military purposes long ago, but I had no idea about how far the
technology had come. It was something I never thought about, even though my dad
used it all of the time. I'm not sure exactly of the science behind nano time
travel, but from what I gathered, after my quick studies, the nanites can be
programmed to create a shell around an object and slip into another dimension,
transporting the object within the shell to the desired location. It has been used
for centuries for space travel, but obviously the real breakthrough was when
scientists discovered how to use nano-technology for time travel.

My studies with the disc lasted for days. Basically my understanding of the procedure was that
I'd be transported to the past, have to set up some field for temporal transport, and be very cautious of the specimens, since they were often unpredictable. It sounded exciting and fun, so I was really looking forward to that part of the trip.

Around that time, Sila, the girl I'd been dating, wanted to meet on the same weekend I was
scheduled to go back in time. Needless to say, she was a bit disappointed with
my refusal, but I promised that I'd make it up to her and take her somewhere
special. I had no idea where, of course, but I needed to reassure her that we
were still a dating couple. Sila's blonde hair was something I wanted to stroke
and smell again. She seemed satisfied with my counter-proposal, and we were to
have a date the following weekend. She ended the conversation by saying,
"See you later." The strange thought occurred to me, though, that if
I wanted to, I could see her earlier, with the help of the nanites. Silly
thoughts. This weekend, I'd be going back in time on another planet.

I woke up early for once and went with my dad in our family's transport to the Preserve's
research facility. My dad asked me if I was nervous, and I lied. He might not
have let me go with him and Laro, if he had known the truth.

What was the truth? I was a bit scared of the process of time travel. It's funny when I
think about that. I should've been far more afraid of the dinos than the nanites. I mean, the nanites don't consider humans food. But I felt safe knowing that the dinos that we were after didn't have Kal on the menu.

The thought of going to another planet, interested me, too. I'd never been to Earth before.
Some of my friends had taken vacations there, but my father was always too busy with his work to bring us anywhere. So my mom and I had just gone to different places on Mars. Earth was bigger, so the gravity would be stronger, and I'd feel more of a pull, my father warned. But I was young and full of energy, so I figured that I wouldn't be kept down and complain about it.

We arrived at the Preserve's transport facility and met Laro inside a huge, spacious area
that had a large, black octagonal black metal platform in the middle. Our equipment was stacked on it. Enormous temporal nodes, much larger than the ones that we would use to get the dinos and get back to Mars, hung suspended from the ceiling. Laro had stayed the night preparing things for the hunt.

I followed Laro and my dad into a changing room connected to the transport chamber. We got
dressed into our sleek, skintight suits which incorporated nano-technology and could adapt to most any surroundings for camouflage, rendering us almost invisible. That helps with many predators, my dad said. After that, we double-checked our equipment on the platform: the portable temporal nodes, spare power packs, taggers, scopes, water, food snacks, and a small tool kit. It seemed like everything was operational and in good condition.

"All set?" Laro asked me.

"Yeah, I watched the training disc and can remember most everything."

Laro's tanned face smiled. "Well, the disc does have some good theoretical information.
Out in the field, though—well, you've got to be able to adapt. That training
disc can only do so much to help prepare you. We've got to watch out for each
other. That's the most important rule. No dino's worth any of us getting hurt
over."

Perhaps if my father had said that, his words might have been wasted. But coming from Laro,
whom I'd known for many years and thought of more like an uncle, I respected
his opinions and knew better than to ignore what he was telling me.

We were ready to go back in time and visit the new world. We got onto the platform and stood
next to our equipment. An operator's voice announced into the space, "Temporal transport in five minutes. Please, prepare yourselves."

A gun above our heads shot out streams of nanites, tagging our equipment. I checked my computer vambrace on my left arm to make sure everything was synched with the group. The
display had the option for vital signs, locators, communicators, environmental changing, and coordinate setting for the return back to Mars. My feet could hardly keep still. My father
looked at me, and gave me a "Stop that" look. Laro looked too, and smiled.

"OK. Put on your hood, mask, and visor," my dad said. Laro and I followed his instructions.

"Enable your vambrace unit to be in sync with central control."

Laro checked his, I checked mine. We both gave thumbs up.

"Twenty seconds to transport," said the operator.

"Dad," I said.

"Yes, Kal?"

"I…I just want to say…"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

My dad gave me a nod just as I heard, "Power transfer operative, systems go. Transport."

The next thing I heard was a buzzing, mixed with a clicking noise. I felt like a swarm of
insects was smothering my body. The mask was stifling and stuffy. I started to find breathing difficult. My mind started to panic, worrying that I wasn't going to be able to breathe. Hyperventilation kicked in. I wanted the process to stop so I could catch my breath. But it was too late. The visor's irises closed shut leaving me in the dark. I closed my eyes anyway.
I felt pressure on my body, pushing me in different places. Ripples of touch cascaded all along
my suit. What was touching me? I had no idea. I was going back in time. It got harder to breathe. The disc mentioned that it would be difficult to breathe and to remain calm during the transport process. But it seemed like it shouldn't be this difficult to breathe. Maybe something was wrong. My eyes opened wide, but were still locked in the darkness of the visor. I had to get that stupid mask off. I couldn't breathe at all!

My legs felt heavy, and then gave way. I was falling. How far, I couldn't tell. My knees
felt like they hit something, and then I felt pressure on my chest and shoulders. My visor opened, and I saw my dad's face with a look of such concern that I had ever seen before--or since. His hands yanked my mask off, and I swallowed down the fresh air in heaping gulps like an old-time astronaut who had just arrived after a long two-year trip to Mars. The air tasted different, though, more alive and wilder than the air on Mars.

Laro came over to me, checking out my face and examining my eyes. Once he saw that I
recovered, he smiled and slapped me on the shoulder. "You're all right, kid. Get up and let's find our dinos."

My father looked at Laro, a bit disapprovingly, but gave way to the man’s easygoing
nature by relaxing his face muscles, smiling and then helping me up.

"Welcome to Earth, son."

It was amazing. The plant life that had been transported and cultivated on Mars for the dinos
seemed lacking in diversity compared to what I could see around me. I didn't study botany, but I know that when the Martians came to get samples for the Preserve, they had to have been on Cloud Nine. The sky was much bluer than the sky above Mars, and I could see some strange bird-like creatures flying. I realized that I was seeing pterodactyls in their natural habitat without the confines of the steel mesh domes to contain them.

We'd arrived at a place which would be known much later on as North America. I was still trying to process the fact that I was actually millions of years in the past with my dad and Laro. The temperature was warmer here than it was when we had left Mars. My dad wasn't kidding about the gravity being stronger. I felt like I was carrying three computers on my shoulders. I knew over time I'd get used to it. I mean, my dad did, so of course I could.

I took a moment to get my bearings, while Laro and my dad started to sort through the gear. The high sun told me that it was afternoon. It seemed so much bigger from where I stood, but then again, Earth is closer than Mars. We were on a hill near a lake. A mountain range stretched in the distance with snow capped peaks. The resemblance to Elysium Mons was remarkable. Isolated trees sprinkled the grassy landscape and interesting fauna was scattered on the ground, like someone had dropped them from the sky. It seemed an ideal spot to come across triceratops.

Laro held up a portable dino-locator in both hands and focused on the screen. The device had a
ten-kilometer range for detecting bio signs, accounting for mass, temperature, and movement. My dad brought one home one day, and I could make out what everyone in my neighborhood was doing. I played around with it for hours. Now I saw it in use as it was intended to be.

"There's a herd of five about six kilometers off that way," Laro said indicating the direction with his outstretched arm. "They don't seem to be in any particular hurry, so perhaps they're grazing. It's a male, two females and two calves."

The fact that Laro could tell their gender impressed me. My face must have shown amazement,
because he gave me a quick, knowing wink. He looked to my dad, "So, what's the plan, boss?"

"Let's get our stuff together and run ahead of them, cutting them off. We'll set up the
perimeter, tag them, get them through, and call it a day."

"Sounds good to me," Laro said.

I just shrugged, as I was just along for the ride.

As my dad and Laro put on the straps of the kits, I looked in the direction of the herd. I
put on my visor and adjusted it for long-distance sight. I could see them ambling through the grass. The whole family was there.

"Hey, Kal, quit daydreaming and help with this stuff, will you?" my dad said. I didn't care for his tone. It was the one he used when he was stressed. I guess that he was under pressure to get the dinos and keep us from getting hurt. Still, I didn't like being scolded in front of Laro like that.

I put on my suit's hood and picked up the food containers. We all were fairly loaded down,
and with the gravity difference, it was really heavy. My dad said, "Okay, let's go into camo-mode and hike it quickly to cut them off. Got it?"

"Got it," said Laro.

"Got it," I said with a sigh and roll of my eyes at his officious tone.

We activated our vambraces, and the nanites on the suits’ surface adapted to the environment. It was like I was looking through my dad and Laro. The packs they carried seemed to be floating in the air. It was a nice optical illusion.

'Time and tide wait for no man,' a professor of mine had once quoted. The herd might pick up
its pace, and we'd lose them before nightfall, so we had to march in double time. Protocol demanded that catches had to be done during daylight hours, and the collectors would return to Mars before nightfall on Earth. I thought it fortunate that we had arrived where we did, being so close to that herd. That disc my dad gave me had explained about the ultra-difficult formula used to calculate the probability of when and where dinos would be. The math was a bit beyond me, but obviously there was something to it, as we were going after a herd that we found almost immediately after we had arrived.

As we shuffled through the grass, either the food container got heavier, or my body was just
not used to the new gravity. With every step, I kept trying to reassure myself, "It's only a little farther.” But I would frequently get disappointed when I looked up, and saw that the waypoint that my dad had set up for us wasn't much closer. From time to time, I checked the advance of the dinos, but as Laro had said, they were in no particular hurry.

After an hour, or so, we managed to get ahead of our quarry. If they didn't do a sudden change
of direction, I estimated they'd be in our vicinity within one hour. We had some time to get ready for the round up. From the way my dad and Laro were talking, nabbing one calf didn't happen too often, much less two. I felt lucky enough to be there that day to be a part of the day’s hunt.

We pulled back our hoods and removed our masks. My dad and Laro grabbed a temporal node each. Laro handed me the third. I wanted some water, but it was business first.

With triangulation, all dimensions of the dinos are accounted for: depth, width, and height. A huge, solitary rock stretched out near our selected site. The rock would help with the roundup, Laro metioned, as we could channel the dinos with that natural barrier. That's why my dad chose it. It made sense. We had no walls to construct quickly. Our limited carrying capacity prevented us from bringing barrier units.

After separating and spreading out about eight meters apart in a triangular formation, my dad planted his temporal node stake into the ground close to the edge of the rock and used his vambrace to guide Laro and me into optimal positioning for the temporal transfer of the dinos.

"A bit more to the left Laro," my dad said. "Good. Good. That's it. Now, Kal, to the right a bit. Back up. That's good. Stop. We're set. Now for the test."

Laro walked to our equipment and removed the tagger from its container. Apparently the tagger projects nanites towards the desired target and surrounds the object, allowing a quick send to Mars once in the active field. Dad took out a stuffed green triceratops from the Gift Shop at the Preserve. I guess he did have a sense of humor, after all. He dropped the toy on the ground and said, "OK, Kal, stand back. Laro, blast it."

"Firing."

A humming and whirring emitted from the gun until Laro turned it off. "Five seconds until absorption. Four, three, two, one. It's good to go."

My dad picked up the dinosaur and handed it to me. "Give it a good toss into the triangle."

"OK." I said. I pitched it with all of my strength, testing to see if velocity was a factor. The nodes were active and lit up once the toy got into the triangle. The triceratops just disappeared. There was no flash of light from within the triangle. Nothing. Just instant transport.

"That's what happened to us back on Mars," Laro said.

"Well, everything seems calibrated and operational," my dad said.

"You know what that means, Kal?" Laro said.

I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. "I have no idea."

"Get that container out that you've been hauling around all day. It's lunchtime," he said with a clap of his gloved hands.

The mention of food got me hungry. We had been so busy that I'd forgotten my stomach. I lugged the metal case over to my dad and Laro, and I cracked it open. Packaged food filled the inside. They were reminiscent of old time space travelers' food. Laro peered in and said, "What do we have today? Ah, some steak for you, boss."

Laro tossed the white and silver packet to my dad and rummaged around through the other packs. "Ah, curry for me. What are you hankering for, Kal?"

"Um. Is there a pizza?" I asked, half jokingly.

My dad rolled his eyes, and Laro chuckled. "A sausage pizza for our young apprentice coming right up."

He tossed me the packet. When I tore open the top, the contents remarkably did smell like a pizza. My dad said, "Go on. Put it in your mouth. It won't kill you."

I glared at him, and then squeezed the contents into my mouth. The food surprised me for a
second time. The mashed up contents within actually did taste like a pizza. This I could get used to.

"Yep, Kal," said Laro sitting on the ground with his back to the big rock. "This is the life. Eating processed food and waiting for dinos to make their way to the trap. How do you find it?"

I hadn't done too much yet except walk, carry around a box and help plant the nodes. "It's fun so far."

"No need to lie," said Laro with a smile. "We haven't done anything fun yet. Just you wait, though. There'll be plenty of excitement within the next few hours, I'll wager. So, eat up quick. By the way, could you throw me a cheesecake packet? Thanks."

I got up and searched around in the box. I found a cheesecake bag and threw it to him and
looked to my dad, who waved his hand and shook his head. So I grabbed a chocolate cake for me.

The three of us sat munching in silence. The waiting was tedious so I thought I'd start some
conversation. "Dad, since we can go back in time, can we go back to anytime we want?"

"I suppose with the right calculations, it would be possible. Why?"

I looked at the grass under me. "Oh, I don't know. I was thinking about Grandma—"

"Uh, oh, I can see where this is going," said Laro. He got up and went scrounging for more cake in the box.

"Your grandmother’s gone, Kal. She won't come back. That's an unfortunate truth."

"But we could go back and stop her from—“

"No, we can't."

"She was your mother. How can you be so cold?"

Perhaps I had pressed the wrong button. My dad threw his food packet to the ground and stomped off behind the rock, muttering unsavory phrases. Laro watched him go, shook his head, and looked at me. "Hey, Kal, I know you must miss her, like your dad does. He and I’ve often toyed with the idea of going back in time in recent history, like to see the first Martian landing, going to the celebration of the first year of the Martian colony—I heard they had quite a huge party—and even to go back and prevent Dalan from being born. Who knows? The War might never have happened if he'd never existed."

My mind was imagining that thought. The Martian Terror never having been born. Millions of
people would never have needlessly died. And I was so narrow-minded and selfish, only thinking about my family. I felt a bit ashamed.

"Did you know your dad even spoke of going back to save your grandma, just before the accident had happened? Maybe convince her to stay home, instead of crossing that street. Yeah, that was a bad time for your dad. I remember it well. He tried to carry on with work, but I knew he was hurting inside more than he would ever show."

During that hard time, my dad definitely had become a different man at home, too. He
wouldn't talk to my mother or me for months. I thought he was going to leave us
or kill himself or something. I missed Grandma a lot, as I still do today. Her
death was hard for me, too. I said to Laro, "I just thought we could help to bring her back."

"Well, your father and I had talked about it long and hard. I mean, we've got the technology at our disposal. And at one time, I tried to convince him to go back to that time with me to end his misery and help her to live. As tempting as the idea may have seemed, he never agreed and actually he had talked me out of it. As I see it now, he was right. If we had changed something in the past, we don't know how it would affect the universe and life as we know it. Cause and
effect are the ultimate law. You might never be born if you start messing with the past, which would create quite a paradox. The Martian Science Council of Ethics said it was too great of a risk and going back to intervene in human affairs was forbidden."

Laro's words spoke a higher truth. The council chose correctly, as did my dad.

"So, if I were you," Laro said, "I'd drop that whole personal travel idea. It could be bad for everyone."

I nodded and felt my face warm with a blush. Laro said, "Hey, don't feel bad. It's good to see that you loved your grandma. And now your father knows that, too, so that'll make him happy. Come on. Let's clean up this mess and get ready for the dino rodeo."

I smiled and got up off of the ground. My father came strolling back. He was about to say something to me, but Laro made a gesture telling him things were all right. My father
nodded and picked up the nanite gun. "Kal, come over here."

I walked over to him and noticed that he was adjusting some settings on the tagger. He showed
me the display and said, "This is where we program the nanites, telling them where to take the specimens. Today we're going to send them to Area Six with the other herbivores, as you can see here. It's penned off. We do that until they get acclimated to the new surroundings. Then we'll release them into the Preserve after a few months to mingle and take their chances with the carnivores."

"Um, speaking of which," Laro said looking towards the triceratops with his visor down. "I think we may have a slight hiccup in our plans."

Laro grabbed and held up the scanner, and my father and I closed in to see what was happening.

We could see the five in-bound triceratops, but not so far off was another large blip. My dad and I put on our visors and looked in the direction. I increased magnification and what I saw made my heart race a little faster. A T-Rex was in pursuit, perhaps wanting to try to get the calves.

"Damn," my dad said. "Just our luck, eh, Laro? Hm."

My dad went silent and scratched his chin in thought. Laro broke the silence, "Well, boss, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"For once, probably yes. It'll be tricky, but it would be a good score. We were just talking about getting another T-Rex soon anyway."

"That means we'll have to have bait."

"The triceratops should do nicely. Now, thanks to our T-Rex, the triceras might have extra incentive to go where we want them to go. We'll have to use the pyrotechnics to guide and channel them. They may be in a panic as they charge through."

"No problem. I'll take care of that."

I put the pieces together of what they were talking about. They were going to try to get
them all. "What do you want me to do, Dad?"

"Well, I want your suit to be in camo-mode and stand by safely out of the way. The situation
has changed with this rogue T-Rex, but it shouldn't be a problem. I'll be on the rock and tag the dinos as they come. I'll send the herd to Area Six and send the T-Rex to Area Three. Simple as that. Then we'll hop in ourselves and go home. Be sure to have your return setting ready on your vambrace."

"No problem."

"Good. Laro, get set up. I'll get on this rock for the high ground. We'll do this in camo-mode so no one gets hurt. Got it?"

"Got it," Laro and I said in chorus.

An excitement was filling up inside of me. It felt like controlled chaos. My dad and Laro were so sure of themselves. I figured that they must have been in this situation dozens of times before. But this was my first time around a T-Rex without being protected by a Preserve heavy transport. I must admit that I got a little worried, but I'd just stand by and go back to Mars with my dad and Laro. They seemed calm and acted like they knew what they were doing with such professional efficiency as they got the gear and took positions. I'd just be in the way, I figured, so I'd follow my dad's advice and simply stand back and enjoy the show. But I did feel like a heel for doing nothing.

The triceratops didn't keep us waiting too long. They were coming within range of the roundup
process. We went into camo-mode, and as before, I could not see either my dad or Laro with my naked eye. When I put my visor down, I tapped on my vambrace and my vision switched to detector mode. It was similar to the detector screen that Laro held up when they first arrived, but more limited in range. I could see my dad and Laro in position. The blips of the dinos grew closer to our location and the T-Rex was homing in on the herd. I wanted to really see them, so I disengaged the visor and went to default mode--seeing them with my unaided eyes.

The triceratops lumbered through the grass. They were enormous, even from where I was standing. Their yellowish-brown skin crinkled up as they walked with each step. Their horns stretched out in defiance. They continued their jaunt in no particular hurry.

Then came the roar from behind them.

Even though I knew a T-Rex was approaching, I was startled by the sheer volume and the eeriness of the giant predator's noise. I felt my hands and legs losing blood circulation. My pulse rate increased, but my breathing stopped. That sound drove itself deep within my mind and conjured up what felt like some ancestral memory. It terrified me. The fear kept me very alert, and I realized then that this was no game. I was standing on the edge of the building
and the wind was howling.

The small herd stopped its march and looked back. The lead bull bellowed and turned itself
around. Two cows and two calves continued on. The lead bull showed defiance, and looked willing to die to protect his children and mates. The T-Rex was running now, making up ground with large strides that thundered. A conflict was inevitable.

The cows and calves were veering away from the nodes, so Laro did his thing by setting off some pyrotechnics. The cows and calves bellowed at the sudden appearance of fire, but they headed in the direction of the triangle. In my intercom I heard Laro say, "Okay, boss, they're all yours."

"I've got them in my sights. Firing."

Over the noise of the approaching quartet, I heard the whir of the nanite tagger above me. The
nodes charged up and Laro set off one more burst of pyrotechnics. That kept them on track and the first triceratops entered the transport area and disappeared. The calves picked up speed at the missing cow and disappeared as well. The other cow was a bit stubborn, so Laro lit a pyro behind her, shouting and yelling. She raced forward with a holler and disappeared, as well. Now
there was only the bull and the T-Rex.

"I got the bull already," said my dad. "And now I'm adjusting for the Rex. It'll be here any moment."

The pounding of the ground beneath my feet told me it was nearly here, all right. I could hear
its heavy breathing from its running, its roars of intimidation. They were nearly deafening. The triceratops bellowed. It had taken a moment to look for its mates and offspring, but could not find them. Perhaps it lost heart; perhaps the confusion from their sudden disappearance was more than its small-ish brain could comprehend. So, slowly it started to back away from the
oncoming fight. But the T-Rex was obviously hungry and wasn't going to give up after making the effort to catch up. It was to be a clash of titans, and I was in the front row, or at least safely out of the way by the rock.

The T-Rex circled the Triceratops, which always had its horns to its enemy. The lone bull bellowed again, almost pitiably, and then Laro lit a pyro to encourage the triceratops to move.

"I'm going to go in before it does, so I can start processing the other four. Are you two
going to be Okay?" Laro said.

"We'll be fine," my dad said. "T-Rex is ready for transport now, and once the
dinos are through, we'll follow right behind."

"All right. See you all on Mars for dinner."

"We won't be long," my dad said.

"Take care, Kal," Laro said. I saw the nodes power up a bit brighter. Laro was
gone. As he was in camo-mode, I couldn’t see him leave, anyway. Now it was time
to get the two into the transport area.

The triceratops eased its way towards the rock and then made a dash for it. I could feel the
vibration on the earth and hear the rumble as it built up speed. The T-Rex hollered in frustration at its quarry trying to give it the slip. My palms were starting to get sweaty, seeing the big triceratops head my way like a maniac.

"Kal,” my dad said over the intercom, "just hang tight. Stay back and close to the rock. Make sure again that your vambrace is programmed for Mars."

I checked. "It's Okay, Dad."

"Good. I'm going to stay on the rock and record the event. Just keep clear, Okay."

As if I wanted to get hit by the dino.

Laro's pyrotechnic had scared the triceratops into the right direction. The dino was almost at the triangle transport area when I noticed that it wasn't quite running straight. Maybe something was wrong with it. The triceratops approached at a steady charge, and I instinctively took a couple of steps back. The dino slammed into the rock, which pushed the dino back onto the path towards the transport area. As it hit the rock, though, I heard shouting. Dad! He was falling!

While all this was happening, the enraged T-Rex leaped into the air and wanted to pounce on itsprey. But the behemoth was too late for its kill. The triceratops had disappeared to the safety of Mars.

I heard the scraping of the rock, and the node on a stake that my dad had set up close to the rock toppled over and lost its luminescence. My dad, in camo-mode, had knocked it over when he landed, right below where the T-Rex stood. It was then I saw it. My dad's suit had ripped during the fall. He was scraped up and blood was dripping from his wounds.

I know my dad wanted to scream out in pain—I would have. But then the T-Rex would have known exactly where he was. My dad must have tried to pull the suit together as best he could to cover his exposed flesh. The camo-mode held, because he was still mostly invisible. The blood, however, stirred the T-Rex. It snorted and sniffed very loudly. I could hear the light crunching of grass and dirt, as my dad tried to ease himself away from the dino towering above him.

The T-Rex dipped its big head, again and again, trying to find the source of the blood scent. But its beady eyes could not unite the smell with the visual. It hollered out, which made my core body temperature drop five degrees. I was frozen. My dad was in trouble. I had no idea what to do.

I heard over the intercom in a barely audible whisper, "Kal, I'm done. It's only a matter of time before the T-Rex gets me."

No! Tears of frustration started to well up at the grim reality.

"Just stay still," my dad said, "and after he gets me, set up the node again and get back to Mars. Do you understand me?"

"I'm not leaving you, Dad."

"You have no choice. He'll get me. I realize that now. Don't be scared. Don't panic."

How could he be so calm with his own death approaching?

"Just wait until it's gone," my dad said.

I wasn't going to let that damn dino get my dad. I saw the container of pyrotechnics a bit away from the rock, so I made my way over to them as quickly, but as quietly, as I could. My dad must have had his tracker vision on and figured what I was at. "No, Kal. Stay back."

"I have to try this, Dad."

"It's too dangerous. Your mother'll never forgive me if anything happened to you."

"She wouldn't be too happy with me if I let you anything happen to you."

The light crunching of grass that I made with each cautious step could scarcely be heard above the sniffing and snorting of the T-Rex. The closer I got to it, the more I could smell it. The blood and gore of former prey never seemed to wash off of it in the rain. I was thinking it would need to attack from downwind, if its pea-sized brain could grasp that tactic. Any dino with a good nose could smell him coming a kilometer away. But, no matter how clever it was, it was threatening my dad and getting too close.

After what felt like ten minutes, though it had only been seconds, I got to the pyro box. I
flipped open the lid and looked inside. Three cylinders remained. I tried to recall from the training disc how to use them. I wished they had given me a more thorough training before we had left. But this was supposed to be a routine trip. None of us had expected trouble from a T-Rex.

A loud crunch and muffled, lip bitten cry of pain came from behind me. Although the dino could not see my dad, the T-Rex stepped on his leg. I imagined the bones splintered into millions of pieces under all that weight. I had to act fast, or else the next step would be on my dad's chest.
I grabbed a pyro and skimmed the instructions written on the red cylinder, all the while
hurrying away from the rock and the dino. The directions strongly advised against holding onto it, but rather to set the timer and put it down. I turned the knob on top, ignoring the timing protocol, and yanked down my hood.

A burst of Martian Red fire and sparks showered the ground, heating up my hand. I worried
that my hair would catch on fire. The suit protected my hand, but my head was vulnerable. "Hey!" I shouted at the T-Rex. "Hey, you damn dino! Come on over here. You can see my head, can't you?"

I waved the flare back and forth and jumped up and down, though I couldn't get as high with
my jumps as I could on Mars. The distraction worked. The T-Rex's head jerked my way, and it shot a wicked glance. The dino opened its enormous mouth, roaring out and salivating on the ground. Its small eyes found their target, and the T-Rex raced forward towards me.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it," I said as I ran away, as fast as I could, with the flare in my right hand. I grabbed my hood with my left hand and could hear the giant footfalls right behind me getting closer.

Don't look back, I told myself. I got the hood on with a bit of difficulty, then worked the mask on. The camo-mode was still engaged. The flare went flying as I tossed it off to my right. I turned sharply to my left at a ninety-degree angle and ran for all I was worth. Adrenaline superseded Earth's gravity.

The T-Rex followed the flare, which had hit the ground and ignited some of the surrounding grass. Confusion was my ally. The dino would not approach the flame, but sniffed out for its prey. I used the opportunity to race back to the rock and my dad. I knew he had to be in pain, and I also knew that I had to get him back to Mars as soon as possible. But traveling back to our planet wasn't an option at the moment The node was down.

"Kal," I heard on the intercom, "you stupid boy, thank you."

"No time now, Dad. The stake with the temporal node is on the ground inactive. And I imagine our T-Rex will be back once the flare goes out."

"Okay. Get the stake back into the ground."

I grabbed the two-meter long black rod that had a pointed end at the bottom and shoved it into the ground. The sudden movement and noise caught the attention of the T-Rex. Though we were invisible, the smell of blood was still in the air. The dino roared and started back to the rock.

"Kal?"

"I almost got it set. I just need to reset it. I'll turn off the power switch and then back on--there it is."

The node hummed back to life.

"Good," my dad said. "Now, go in and don't argue. Go home!"

I didn't have the energy to argue. I selected tracking mode on my visor, found his body and grabbed on. I switched back to normal vision and saw the T-Rex coming our way, swinging its large head from side to side, roaring and baring its teeth.

At first, I dragged my dad behind me, but then stopped. I realized that if I entered the field first, I would've disappeared, and my dad would have been stuck with the T-Rex. "Dad, can you get up?"

"My leg was crushed by that T-Rex."

"Get up, Dad, or we're both dead!"

"Damn it, Kal! I told you to go!"

He pushed himself to his knee. I yanked him up and he put his arm on my shoulder which he
grabbed in response to the pain. My dad hopped once, twice, and then I shoved him into the triangle.

"Kal, no!"

He was gone.

I spun around to see jaws filled with daggers lunging at me. The dino must have been following the last of the blood scent. I dropped to the ground as the huge body just passed over me, drowning my eardrums with its deafening roar. I saw the underbelly storm into the triangular transport area, and right after the tail had passed overhead, I turned my head just in time to see the T-Rex disappear--presumably to Mars, but at that moment I didn't care. I was just all too happy to see it gone. Breathing was hard, and my heart would not stop pounding in my chest. I thought it was going to burst.

I took several moments to relax, lying on the grass. There was no more threat. The ordeal was
finished. I stood up defying the heavier gravity, and surveyed Earth one last time. The greenery was a fine sight. I took a deep breath, nodded to the new world in a salute saying "See you again," and then stepped into the triangle. My visor went black.

When I arrived back on the transport platform on Mars, I saw some medics attending my dad's
leg on the floor of the chamber where all of this had started. Laro, standing by the medics, looked up at me. I undid my mask and visor, removed my hood, and stepped to the edge of the platform.

"Kal!”

Laro said. “Thank the powers. When your dad came back alone like this, I was so scared—“

"How is he?" I said. The anxiety in my voice couldn't be hidden.

"I'm fine, considering," my dad said while lying on his back. He turned his head and looked at me with a smile. "Your mother'll be happy tonight."

"No she won't, when she sees your leg."

"Well, maybe it will mean an early retirement from dino hunting. She'll like that," he said, chuckling at his own joke. "Come here, Kal."

I stepped off of the platform and knelt at my dad's side. He put his hand through my hair.

"Thanks, son. You did well."

"Yeah," said Laro. "Now the Preserve has five new triceratops, a new T-Rex, and its best specimen collector back alive—not to mention a new dino collector-in-training."

My dad looked at Laro and said, "After University."

Considering the adventure that I just had on Earth, and especially after hearing my dad's
unspoken approval of Laro's suggestion, I couldn't wait to finish school.

As things stand, I’ve only got one more year until graduation from Mars U. My grades aren't too bad--even in science--and the Preserve has already accepted my request for employment as a specimen collector. I guess Laro and my dad put up some convincing arguments on my behalf. Soon I'll be able to continue where my dad left off and go back to Earth to get more dinos for the benefit of every Martian and fulfill my childhood dream.

No Way, Nana

No Way, Nana!

by

Christopher Pelletier

copyright 2011


Only one week! Nana had only one stinking week to get her paper done for English class. If she could not, her chances of seeing Arashi’s farewell concert would be flushed down the toilet with the rest of her luck.

Mr. Davidson, her spiteful English teacher at her international middle school, had assigned the class an essay about Mark Twain’s use of language to convey authentic characters. English isn’t even my language, Nana thought. Especially English from over a hundred years ago. They didn’t even have computers then.

To complicate matters, her computer was down with a nasty virus, possibly from downloading all of those boot-leg Arashi concerts and watching them at two o’clock in the morning instead of sleeping. She would do anything for her favorite boys. But now she could not access Wikipedia or anything online to get any quick answers. She was on her own.

This is how it must have been for Mark Twain.

She took out her notebook and pencil with Snoopy on it. She twirled Woodstock, who was on a plastic chain at the eraser end. The soft-cover book with Huckleberry Finn staring Nana in the eyes grew annoying, so it went flying across the room. She ran her hands through her hair and groaned. This was not a good start. She wanted to watch an Arashi concert online to de-stress, but she remembered that her computer was down. She was stuck doing her assignment.

After an hour, her eyes grew tired and she staggered to bed. The assignment would have to wait. And it did wait—for three days. Math, science, technology, and Japanese homework took priority, and she could not be bothered with the stupid English essay. But the deadline was approaching.

Her parents had told her that if she got a good grade in English, they would get her a concert ticket. Her essay was her last chance to bring up her mediocre grades and see her favorite boy band live… for the third and final time.

She took out her blank notebook and opened to the first page with the words “Mark-Stupid-Twain Language” written in pencil. She would have to change the title, but it was her honest feeling.

With a long sigh, she committed pencil to paper and wrote about the book she had skimmed through several weeks ago. The language was old and difficult to understand, which is probably what made it so belevible— beleiveble— Hang on, she thought. I need a dictionary, like right now. Oh my god, why is my computer down!

Her notebook and pencil went flying and joined Huckleberry Finn in the corner. She pushed her chair from her desk and raced to her older sister’s room. The door was closed, as usual, so she knocked and entered without waiting for a response.

Miku was on her bed reading Glitter magazine, her long bangs covered her Burberry frames. Upon seeing her sister enter without permission, she drew her dark hair curtains with her stubby fingers and said, “Hey, get out! What do you want?”

“I need your dictionary.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

“No way, Nana. Get out!”

Miku went back to her magazine and hummed an Arashi song. Nana slammed the door and went back to her chair.

God, I hate her! Why does she have to be like that?

The little hand on the clock was on the 10. She sat and tapped the desk and imagined what songs would be done at the show. She wondered what they would be wearing. What kind of dance steps would they do? Then she noticed that the little hand on the clock rested somewhere between 12 and 1!

She needed her sister’s electronic dictionary and was going to get it. She could not let Arashi down. Nobody stirred in the house. Now was her time to strike. She knew Miku never used her dictionary—and now Nana needed it more than ever.

Like a ninja in the night, she crept into the dark hallway and slinked into her sister’s room. She could not see much except dark forms of furniture, but she could hear Miku’s snoring. With small steps, she eased her way to the bookshelf where the dictionary collected dust, and took hold of the cold metal device. A smile of satisfaction crossed her lips. That’s when the lights went on.

“What the hell?” Miku said. “What are you doing in my room?”

She spied the dictionary in Nana’s white-knuckled clutches. “Put that back and get out of my room!”

“Please.” Nana couldn’t recall ever having used that word to her sister before. “I need the dictionary. It’s important. Please!”

Miku, half groggy, sat in thought and scrutinized her sister. “If I lend it to you, you have to do the dishes for me for the next three months.”

Three months? Is she kidding? But then she had a moment of clarity. Arashi.

“OK.”

“Well, take it and get out of here!”

Nana brought it out and went to her room. She grabbed her notebook and pencil from the floor and put them back on her desk. She opened the dictionary and hit the power button—but nothing happened. The batteries were dead, which is what she would be if she did not finish the paper.

She woke up late that Saturday morning and realized she only had two days left. After washing the breakfast dishes for Miku, she got some money from her mom to buy batteries. She figured one thousand yen would be enough. On the way to the electronics store, she passed by a small mom and pop grocery shop. The morning’s rice and soup at home was not enough. A donut, a candy bar, and a bottle of OJ were exactly what she needed, so she broke the bill, figuring she still had enough battery money.

The electronics store was just down the street, so she arrived in the battery section and figured she would have enough time to get her project underway before the afternoon started. The package containing the pair of triple A’s dangled on a metal rod right in front of her face, but the price sticker put them just out of her grasp. She was ten yen short! The sweet chocolate taste from the candy bar turned bitter.

Dejected, she made her way home and dragged her feet all the way back to her poster-filled room. She collapsed into her chair at her desk. No batteries, no essay, no Arashi.

Her bad luck finally got to her. She shoved the desk and screamed. The desk made a loud noise as it hit her wall, and she buried her face into her arms heaving sobs.

This is so stupid. I hate my life! Why doesn’t anything go right for me? Why do I—

Her thoughts stopped as the desktop lurched forward under her weight. It was uneven, and she had never noticed that before. After bending low, she noticed that a leg of the desk was short and had been supported by a grimy green book and the book’s thickness was just enough to give the desk balance.

Nana stooped under the desk and grabbed the book. The spine read “Japanese-English Dictionary.” She opened the front cover and there was an inscription: “To Junko. May this little book of words help you out when you need it most.”

It looked like her mom’s dictionary from when she was a junior high school student. And now it would help Nana to see her beautiful boys.

Then her mother came into the room yelling, “What was that noise? Is everything OK?”

Nana looked from the faded green book to her mom. “Yes, everything is fine now.”

“Good. It sounded like a bull was running through your room. Keep it down.”

Her mom left and Nana grabbed her notebook, pencil, and dictionary. She went to work on her bed.

Arashi, Arashi, I’m going to see Arashi.

With her mantra churning in her mind and her six favorite boys in the world motivating her, she wrote her rough draft, using her newfound dictionary more often than she liked. She grabbed Huckleberry Finn from the floor and combed through the pages searching through pages marked with Elmo post-its. She focused and let her pencil race across the page. Four hours later, she put her work down.

She could not suppress her smile.

A knock on the door startled her, and her mom came in carrying a box. “By the way, Nana, I forgot to mention that I brought in your computer to get it de-bugged, or whatever they call it. Anyway, it’s here and ready for you to use. You need to write a report, right? Well, maybe you can use the Internet to look up some helpful information—and not watch those concerts.”

Nana looked at her paper again, groaned, and then exhaled a sigh. “That’s OK, Mom. I needed the computer awhile ago, but I don’t need it anymore. I just finished the essay.”

“Well, that’s great. It could mean an Arashi ticket for you, if your grade goes up in English.”

Nana thought about how good her work was, smiled, and said, “Get the credit card out, Mom. I am going to Arashi!”

“Great. I’ll get two tickets, then.”

“One for me and a friend?”

Nana’s heart beat like a marching drum as her mind raced through which of her acquaintances would suddenly become her best friend.

“No, for you and your sister.”

She thought she heard thunder, or maybe it was the blood rushing to her ears. What the hell? Miku?

Her face must have been easy to read. Her mom said, “I asked her to lend you her dictionary because your computer was down.”

That bitch! I’ll kill her! First, for giving it to me with dead batteries! Then making me do her chores for three months for nothing! Calm, calm. Have to settle down. Just breathe, Nana. Breathe.

“To tell you the truth,” said Nana’s mom, “I had already gotten you two front row tickets.”
Nana’s jaw dropped. Her mother smiled and chuckled. “Well, Nana, I knew you’d be able to get your grade up. You have never let me or your father down yet.”

Nana screamed and said, “Front row tickets! Mom you’re the best!”

“Just make sure you get it done,” her mom said with a smile, as she turned and left.

Nana spent all day Sunday hammering away at the keys. Rat-a-tat-tat. Her mind remained focused, like a concert pianist playing for the Emperor in Tokyo. She needed a clean copy for Mr. Davidson. I’ll get the best score in the whole class with this!

That night she rested well, and that Monday morning she bounced out of her room before her alarm had a chance to go off. The last time she had been this excited was the day of her school’s festival in which her class sung an Arashi song to the attendees. She threw her uniform on and shoveled down some rice before running for an earlier train.

When she got to class, she beamed with pride and glory. However, Yumi, who sat next to Nana in class, stared into space with pouty lips. Nana eased herself down into her chair next to her troubled friend and said, “Hey, what’s up?”

“I can’t believe it…”

“Believe what?”

“Haven’t you heard? Arashi may be cancelled.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I saw it on Myspace last night.”

“Oh, my God!”

“I know. I have a ticket in the upper section.”

I have front row…

The chimes indicating the start of class began their dulcet melody. Mr. Davidson was nowhere in sight. All the classmates looked at each other bewildered. Their mean-spirited teacher was never late.

Just then, the door opened and a strawberry-blond woman in her late fifties entered the classroom with several folders and said, “Uh, hello, class. My name is Ms. Blake. I’ll be your substitute teacher today.”

One of the classmates asked, “Where’s Mr. D?”

Unperturbed by the casual address of their missing teacher, she said, “Mr. Davidson had an unfortunate accident this weekend.”

Nana did not know whether to laugh or shout for joy!

“From what I heard, you will be glad to know that he is OK. He’s recovering in the hospital now. Apparently he was riding his bike in Ueno Park and ran into a big name celebrity—some musician, I think—who broke his legs and arm. I guess his group was going to have a farewell concert soon, but it has been cancelled. They were called something like Asahi—“

“Arashi!” the class chimed out in correction, nearly crying at the news.

“Right, that’s it. Anyway, I will send Mr. Davidson your well wishes, if you want. It sounds like you miss him. I received an email from him saying that you had a report due today. Please take them out and hand them in.”

Nana sat dumbfounded. Her hands tensed and clenched into fists. Mr. Davidson is the most evil person on the planet! He killed my last chance to see Arashi! He did it on purpose!

Nana screamed and threw her six-page report in the air, scattering the pages all around. She slammed her forehead on her table. Besides the ringing in her ears from the impact, all she could her was her teacher chuckling and saying, “No way, Nana. Arashi? No way.”

Release of Son of Atlantis

My Young Adult Fantasy novel Son of Atlantis has been launched on August 25, 2011.

You can check it out and purchase it at amazon.com

The blurb:

Atlantis shines as the bright beacon of culture, influence, and power. As the favored people of the Gods, the Atlanteans have created marvels by using technology blended with magic. Those wonders conjure the admiration, envy, and fear from the rest of the civilized world.

Kylos, like most fifteen-year-old Atlanteans, wants nothing more than to be a dolphin rider in the prestigious Nereid Corps, and he makes up his mind to become one no matter what it takes. He did not foresee it would cost him so much: his friendship, his love, and his peace of mind.

Without the comfort of a happy home, his only solace comes from his dolphin mount Aki, and together they ride into adventure. But while following that path, he finds his life in jeopardy and learns that stormy waves are not the only perils on the open sea.

The Dragon Seeker Saga: a review

After reading Douglas "Dag" Rossman's The Dragonseeker Saga: A Tale of the Nine Worlds, I was well pleased. I have read a reference book of his called The Nine Worlds: A Dictionary of Norse Mythology and have another of his books, which I will get to soon. He has inspired me.

Rossman, a former Biology professor, has a lot of passion for the Norse myths, as do I, and has a knack for storytelling. The prose reads like he is a skald of olde telling it to me face-to-face. It is whimsical, has great imagery, is personable, and authentic-sounding.

I know the Norse myths fairly well and was happy to see him cleverly weave the tales into his fiction, like the saga of Volund, for example.

The story is told in first person and follows the trials of a young story-teller named Dag. His parentage is semi-divine and he goes on a voyage of discovery. He experiences all that life has to offer: love, happiness, pain, and adventure.

As a work for young adults, I think it holds a lot of action, mystery and thoughtfulness to engage the reader, and as the character grows, the reader does as well.

I highly recommend this book as a supplement to Norse myths. It is 139 pages of an enjoyable read.

Click teh image to learn more about the book.

Son of Atlantis

My new book will be coming out in Quarter 3 of 2011. It is called Son of Atlantis. You can see the preview for it on youtube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yd0WlqfHL-k . I hope you enjoy it.

You can find out more about it and read the first three Chapters at the publisher's website www.DLJpublishing.com .

Please check it out and let me know what you think.