Shainan had gone to bed early, hoping Utu would follow, but she instead awoke to the noises of men talking in the kitchen. The sounds comforted her as she remembered them from when she was a girl. The men would drink their ferment, when they had it, through reeds from the single skin in which it was made. They would tell their stories, bragging and fighting, usually not hurting each other. In the good years, it was almost always in fun. She would lift her head from the buffalo hide and strain with both ears to listen in on the stories. She wanted to hear them now.
Shainan rose from her bed and sat on the floor, opening the door a crack to listen. She was glad to identify the voices of the three of them, Carson, Rick, and her sun god. She could hear they were telling stories of bear, horses, deer, bison, mammoth, and elk, not because she understood the words but because she understood the sounds – the laughter, the exaggerated tones, the inflections. It warmed her heart. It gave her the feeling of safety to have a tribe again. As insignificant as it was, it gave her hope that perhaps they could one day be free of the Provenger. Life could return to normal.
She flattened herself on the floor, ear next to the crack in the door, and closed her eyes. She was back in time, a girl of the tribe, sleeping in her tent with her mother and sisters, the boys and the men outside by the fire, talking of their hunts to provide for their tribe. She would need that tribe if the child growing within her were to have any chance of a future. She listened.
“Get the…yes, yes, so when we get close we give all the spears to the smallest your age Carson so we’ll have our hands free, we’d never do it with less than ten we taught the dogs to stay with us so we would always have a solid ring around the beast the dogs would be running back and forth they’d make a fantastic roar and confusion where did you spear first well all over really some for the eyes head some would try for the tendons on the back of the legs one time we threw all our spears and the mammoth was over them and wouldn’t move so we had to get her to move to another spot no shit to get and the spears under her the first spears that went in she would always pull out with her trunk if she could reach them, then once we can put more spears in her than she can pull out and maybe a tendon or two horrible business so the boys just keep handing us spears yes and just as fast as we can when we get an opening and when tired we rest and collect spears that she’s pulled out and thrown and the boys get a chance enough blood loss and she goes down…As many spears we could with sharp bone tips, some with very sharp stone, best spears are heavy to go deep hit blood they fall out we throw again they can’t be too thick so they’ll go in by long thin hardened shaft to a point at the end of thick shaft I got hit by a trunk once thrown onto Risto…
The talking stopped, and Shainan’s eyes popped open when she heard and recognized the name of her cousin. Risto was Utu’s uncle but was more like a father to him. She knew why Utu had stopped. He was telling a story of hunting and said his name. She should go to him, she thought.
Shainan walked into the kitchen where the men were sitting. They all had a glass in front of them and two empty bottles in the middle. She hadn’t bothered to put any clothes on, again, and Carson and Rick were glad to see her beautiful form. They’d gotten used to the unshaved legs and underarms. They didn’t even see that anymore.
She looked down at her Utu. His face was buried in his folded arms crossed on the table. He was crying for the memory of Risto. “Come, my god. Risto hears you. The stories are over,” she commanded in the language only they could understand. She leaned over and held him, crushing her full bare breasts into his back. She strained to help lift his massive heap of a body to his feet, and they walked into their room together. She was determined to make the most of what night they had left. She would use her passion for him as a knife. She would skin the grief from his body and soul.
“Well,” said Rick, turning to Carson, “I bet nobody in the world for the last ten thousand years has done that.”
“Done what?” asked Carson.
“Sat around and got a first person account of a mammoth hunt. The guys at the hunting club are gonna be jealous. You’d better get some sleep. It’s almost morning.”
“Night, Dad. Thanks.”
“Goodnight, Carson. Love you.”
“You, too. Ha, Utu.” And Carson shuffled off to his room.
Rick sat down on the side of the couch that hadn’t been peed on and looked at what was left of the fire in the stove. It was almost out. Just a bed of glowing coals remained under the ash. He would have to add more wood. He’d also have to open the ash cleaning door, at the base, to allow a huge amount of air in to get the wood burning hot. First, he’d see sparks and then flames. Then he’d hear the roar of a fire that could grow too hot, too fast, if he let it. The expanding metal of the cast iron stove would make clinking sounds as it heated. Joints could break if it heated too fast. The soot in the chimney could catch on fire. The night could be ruined if he wasn’t there to close the ash cleaning door and cut off the source of excess air. He had to set the inferno into action. Only he could stop it. Only he could control it.
On a pad of paper on the table next to the couch he wrote:
11/24, 1630 favorite hunting spot parking area. Bring whole group-I have equipment-everything needed-going hunting.
Rick put the paper in his pocket, ready to leave it at their drop point in the morning. “I have to step things up,” he said aloud. He had to meet with Nwella one more time before this meeting. He had only days left.
Chapter 30
Fortune to the highest bidder
Sitting on the couch, sleep overwhelmed Rick as the adrenaline that had been surging through his veins was worked out of his system by his slightly distracted liver. That very night he’d learned he would be a father to a human alien hybrid and that he’d probably have to start planning for college expenses again. That is, only if he could save the human race from an imminent harvest to become food for aliens led by his new kid’s grandfather. And how would he tell Carson he’d no longer be an only child…and that he’d have a new step-mom?
Rick had learned many more interesting things from his all-nighter with Utu. He’d learned that the Provenger power system that ran everything, from their transports to and from the ship, to their distance and time travel, wasn’t so volatile after all. The way Synster had described the two orbiting neutron stars, or binary star, at the center of their ship made it sound like the ship’s containment system was all that protected the entire solar system from destruction.
Though his information was from numerous sources over a long period of time and Utu still wasn’t completely sure, he had a strong belief that the energy of the stars was brought to the ship through the same method that the ship used to travel, or that the stars were “there, but also not there”. These are the two different versions he’d overheard described.
Utu synthesized these two versions with what he heard about the shutdown capabilities of the ship. The stars could be “put away” at certain times to allow maintenance or repairs to the physical portions of the containment system. When this happened, the circular shape of the ship accommodated the creation of artificial gravity by spinning. While the ship was under these conditions, the Provenger used a power source that sounded to Rick like standard nuclear technology. All this made it seem like, except for their very advanced main power system, they weren’t all that much more advanced than humans.
After talking with Utu about it for some time, Rick concluded that if the containment system were removed or destroyed, the stars would simply be gone and irretrievable, without appearing locally and without the resultant destruction of the solar system. This kind of containment also made sense with regard to size. Normal-sized neutron stars, Rick had reasoned, regardless of the massive size of the Provenger ship, would be much too large to be contained at its center.
It was resolved between them that the destruction of the ship would not result in the destruction of the solar system, which was Rick’s main concern. It was
assuming a great deal, but it at least pointed toward an opportunity.
Rick also learned that you need at least a dozen people and at least as many dogs to hunt a mammoth. The mammoth needs to be panicked enough to forget its herding instincts and the protection it affords to reduce it to confusion and exhaustion. Bows will work to take out eyes, but to effectively bleed the animal, there is no substitute for heavy spears. You need lots of them, and you need to isolate the mammoth so you can get the spears into it. You’ve got to bleed it to death. There is no such thing as a killing blow. A heavy, flexible spear, as Utu described it, is best because it needs a lot of inertia behind it to penetrate deeply, but not so heavy that it can’t be thrown with the throwing stick. Once the animal has tired, then the solid, very heavy spears with a long, sharp ivory or stone head thrown or thrust by hand make for a quicker kill. It is a long, messy, brutal process that takes time and patience.
Rick also learned that it was “vital” that he obtain one of the Provenger’s working fighting gauntlets. Utu stressed that it was the only way humans could have a chance at fighting them.
“How vital?” Rick asked. Utu knew something.
“As vital as having enough spears,” Utu advised. “Having the gauntlet would be equal to putting a thousand spears into a mammoth. Not having it…” Utu held up the spoon in front of him. “Try killing a mammoth with this. There are just some things I cannot tell you, Rick. I need to get a gauntlet.”
That’s pretty vital, Rick thought. I must meet with Nwella again.
Chapter 31
Tony’s rebellion
Rick knew a little about anatomy. The human head is an amazing system. The skull, the main structure of the head, encases, like armor, the most important organ of survival to the human being – the brain. While other animals have claws, fangs, bone crushing strength, lightning speed, flight, incomparable sense of smell or eyesight, humans really have only their brains to help them survive. While different people can have all the aforementioned attributes to a certain degree when compared to other humans, animals have taken these traits to a higher level. It is only the human brain and a person’s ability to use it that give them any chance at survival. Humans have certainly taken this to a higher level. The skull is the strange exoskeleton of a normally endoskeletal beast that protects this vital tool, this interesting cluster of predominantly omega 3 fatty acids.
The rest of the body seems only as an afterthought, a device by which the brain can be moved from place to place, to impose itself on the world. The locomotion and the senses of the body seem merely the means by which the brain might be protected through the sensing, and defense against, or removal from, danger.
If one were to put two hundred pounds directly on top of the head, the pressure would stress the many plates of the skull and their synarthrodial joints. Some flexing would occur, as would some compression of the spinal column and a very high pitched ringing in the ears of the person beneath would begin, alerting him to a problem. One would have to add much more weight before the skull would be crushed. Alternately, given a medium size stone with an impact to the temple, a similar sound may be heard. But in each case, the mighty skull, with so many different bones that even the experts can’t decide their number, will remain intact.
The skull doesn’t have to break to bring death to a person. Violent motion can cause trauma to the brain as it moves inside the skull, colliding with the dull and sharp structures that hold it in place. But still the skull will remain intact. Heating the skull would kill a person long before the skull would eventually roast hot enough to either boil the brain and pop a section out under pressure, or crack the bone through the effect of the heat.
But take a very small piece of lead and propel it at high speed toward the skull, and it has no problem penetrating and transferring all its remaining energy to the soft brain tissue within. Use a larger piece of lead, and the brain will be launched out the opposite side, clustered with bone. No time for ears ringing there, nothing but complete, instant removal of consciousness, a step into the void.
Tony Carrian paced the distance from his SUV to the cliff edge and back again, multiple times, collecting burs on the cuffs of his pants from the weeds that littered the sand. It was a clear, cold evening, and the sun was just under the horizon. It was getting dark fast. Rick was there, reclined in his Jeep, looking like he was sleeping, patient, while all of Tony’s friends were arriving. Rick had refused to talk to anyone about any plan or even show himself to be introduced until they’d all been gathered as a unit. All he would say to Tony was that he’d conferred with his contact and that everything was ready. His Jeep appeared to be packed with equipment.
Tony felt nervous about the meeting. He didn’t even know if this was just a planning meeting or if they were actually going to do something. Maybe he’d rushed Rick too much, pushed him too far. He was beginning to have second thoughts. The weight of responsibility for the safety of his group began to press on his conscience.
Tom Durham was in the bed of his truck trying to organize some gear, and Tony walked over to him. “Tom,” he called out.
“Yeah, hey, Tony. Hey listen. Can we talk?”
Tony nodded as he walked up. “Sure, that’s why I came over.”
“Okay, let me put this away. I’ll meet you over by that thick cedar, over there.” Tom pointed. He stuffed his things into the box in the back of his truck, closed the lid, locked it, and vaulted to the ground as Tony sauntered to the tree, deep in thought.
Tom walked up. “Tony, I don’t like this. I don’t know this guy, and you said he’s NSA, and the only reason I’m here is to support you, and the fact that if the feds roll up, we’ve never really talked about anything except being pissed about the way the government’s run and socialized medicine. I’m pretty sure nothing’s going on out here, so whatever this guy comes up with, I’ll have time to decide what I’m gonna do,” Tom rambled on nervously, Tony nodding all the way.
“Yeah Tom. You know, I’ve been thinking and I’m sorry I brought you into this.” Tony paused to think. “Tell you what. Hear what we’ve got to say and then you decide. You don’t have to say anything. Just hear what we’ve got to say.” Tony looked him in the eyes, asking Tom to trust him.
“Okay, Tony, but if this guy is a whack job, I’m outta here.”
“Understood, and I don’t blame you. But I think you’ll find what we have to say interesting,” Tony said, thinking, this guy is going to crap his pants when he learns the reality.
It was a half hour beyond the meeting time and, not including Tony, there were nine of them there ready to hear what Rick had to say. Tony was watching him from a distance. Rick stirred, checked the watch on his wrist, and remained still. With a burst of movement Rick got out of the Jeep and headed for Tony. He was dressed in desert fatigues with a 1911 on his hip. “Everybody here?” Rick asked, sounding agitated and impatient.
“Yeah, everybody’s here. We’re all just waiting on you,” Tony lied. It was Marcus again. He was late. He’d said he’d be there, but Tony didn’t want to wait any longer. Chances were Marcus would call in a half hour and cancel anyway. “So what’s the surprise in the Jeep?” Tony asked, now just hoping for a training session with some kind of new weapon.
“Soon enough,” Rick said. “Why don’t you get them all together over here and we’ll get started?”
Tony called them over and introduced Rick by name only. Rick was about to speak but then stopped. He glanced at Tony.
“Tony, I got to say something to you in private. Just one second?” Rick gestured that they step away together. After a few paces, Rick stopped and they turned, face-to-face.
“Tony, you’re a good man. I want to thank you for supporting me, all the way from helping me out of the canyon that first day to motivating me to get moving with a plan to fight these things. When all is said and done, I’m sure the day will come when you get the recognition for being…” Rick stopped for a moment, a little choked and thinkin
g, “…for doing all that you’ve done. I hope I don’t let you down.” Rick finished, his voice quivering a little, and he stuck out his hand.
Tony shook it. “Thanks, Rick. I really appreciate that. I’m sure you won’t.” They stood still, looking at each other for a moment. “Is that all?” Tony asked.
“Yeah, that’s all,” Rick replied. The image of a small piece of paper with writing on it flashed in Rick’s mind. On the piece of paper was written, “I am the Lion.”
They turned to walk back to the group. As they did, Rick drew his 1911 pistol and carefully and deliberately put it to the back of Tony’s head. He pulled the trigger. The sound of the near contact shot was perceptibly muffled by the proximity of the muzzle to Tony’s scalp. The .45 caliber automatic Colt pistol round, 230 grains of copper jacketed lead that entered the back of Tony’s head was moving at about 950 feet per second. It penetrated the skull and entered the brain before any of the surrounding tissue even had a chance to register the impact. The shock of the energy wave moving through Tony’s mind thoroughly scrambled his brain into a goo that followed the mushrooming round. Bone and skin fragments from half of Tony’s face flew from his forehead in the direction he was walking. They hit the ground a moment after Tony’s limp body did. He hadn’t felt a thing. That’s the way Rick wanted it. There would be no open casket. In fact, there would be no casket at all. The Provenger would gladly take the bodies.
Primal Estate: The Candidate Species Page 34