Earth Pro: The Rings of Sol

By Lane Scheiber

EARTH PRO is an epic adventure interweaving three finely crafted story lines into a far reaching novel that beckons to unravel the greatest mysteries of the Human Race.

The first story line is a string of chapters that explores the lives of some of the great minds of humanity and their personal struggles with visions clearly beyond their time. The second sequence describes Atlantis Spaceport located on Zeus, a planet that once existed as the fifth planet of our solar system. The science team stationed at Atlantis creates Earth Program, but comes under attack and is destroyed. The third story line spins the tale of an attractive honor student and a troubled teen labeled a schizophrenic, struggling in school. Together the two set out on an adventure to prove that a great tragedy befell the solar system billions of years earlier.

EARTH PRO delivers romance, courage, betrayal, heroism, determination, and undying friendship. The stories involve characters that give of themselves the ultimate sacrifice for what they believe despite seemingly insurmountable odds, while offering a story line that delivers a plausible explanation for the greatest of mysteries--the truth of who we are, why we are, and the horizon over which all our destinies lie.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 14, 2000
• ISBN: 9781469793528

Lane Scheiber

Lane B. Scheiber II, MD an electrical engineer with 25 years as a clinical rheumatologist. Lane B. Scheiber, ScD with a doctorate in systems engineering from MIT and 42 years of systems engineering experience.

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All Rights Reserved © 2001 by Anthony Scheiber

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.

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ISBN: 978-1-469-79352-8 (ebook)

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1 The Traveler and the Awakening

Chapter 2 The Moon Dance

Chapter 3 Distress Call/Earth Pro Review Committee

Chapter 4 Hippocrates

Chapter 5 Rescue the Cruizin Club

Chapter 6 Leonardo I

Chapter 7 Jennifer and the Principal

Chapter 8 Leonardo II

Chapter 9 Prototype CC

Chapter 10 Michelangelo

Chapter 11 The Lost Farm

Chapter 12 Festival of Lights

Chapter 13 Beethoven

Chapter 14 Foreclosure & Eviction

Chapter 15 Top Brass

Chapter 16 Madame Curie

Chapter 17 Clement High School

Chapter 18 Love Quadrangle

Chapter 19 Albert Einstein

Chapter 20 The Confrontation and the Meeting

Chapter 21 Launch Day

Chapter 22 Showdown with the Jar Quat

Chapter 23 Jenny’s Inner Self

Chapter 24 Two-on-One Dogfight

Chapter 25 Despair & Hope

Chapter 26 Desperate Heros

Chapter 27 The Wrath of the Prophet

Chapter 28 Bode’s Law

Chapter 29 Escape with Prototype CC

Chapter 30 Fighting Chance

Chapter 31 Troubled, Tragic Vision

Chapter 32 Salvaging Prototype CC

Chapter 33 Allying Cassandra’s Father

Chapter 34 Visit to the Radio Telescope Farm

Chapter 35 Return Fire

Chapter 36 Friday Night Rendezvous at Kope’s Diner

Chapter 37 Fatal Counter-Attack!

Chapter 38 Radio Telescope Farm Break-in

Chapter 39 Set Adrift

Chapter 40 Search the Skies

Chapter 41 Rescue of the Champions

Chapter 42 Lost Friend

Chapter 43 Jimmy T.Witness & the Lightning Ridge Black Shadow Band

Chapter 44 Tale of the Deep Space Prospectors

Chapter 1

The Traveler and the Awakening

Darkness prevailed. The stars shone like diamonds, twinkling like many thousands of precious gems scattered across a rich, velvety black backdrop. In the eastern sky, hugging the horizon, hung a full moon. Gentle rays from the pitted face of this single moon bathed the primitive landscape of the planet once called Terra.

The lifeless planet, positioned third from the white dwarf sun named ‘Sol’, had a violent, undisturbed natural beauty. Under the illuminance of the gentle moonlight, an unexplored sea thrashed heartily, crested with whitecaps whipped up by fierce winds. Reaching up out of these churning waters was a large, volcanic island. The summit of the monstrous rock bed was crowned with a ring of jagged peaks. Hidden in the center of the ring of sharply defined rocky edges, seen only from overhead, was a crater. A smoldering pool of molten rock bubbled at the center of this rocky cauldron. A cloud of ash and sulpha spewed forth from the crater’s mouth, rising up above the rocky peaks and into the dark night. At the foothills of the great volcano, mists of steam spewed forth from the many fissures cut in the molten plate.

At the water’s edge, an angry sea crashed forth challenging the barren, rocky boulders that stood guard at the foot of the volcano. For thousands of years, the waters of the sea had boldly slapped the face of these rocks. Periodically, the great volcanic mountain, would rumbled to life spraying fiery rock and ash up into the sky and pouring great lava trails forth from the rocky cauldron at the summit. Rivers of molten metal would floe down the slopes towards the water’s edge, finally spilling into the sea, eventually cooling, widening the girth of the mountain’s base. The sea, an unwilling partner, would find itself pushed back to make room for the great mountain. This night though, the great mountain slept.

The starlit sky was dotted with a few scattered cumulus clouds. Otherwise, the night was clear except for the faint plumes of smoke rising from the volcano’s crater. The untamed forces of nature remained in balance as they had done for billions of years. The cycle seemed eternal, the moon would fall, the sun would rise, the moon would rise, the sun would fall.

This night would prove to be different. This night was to mark the awakening of a world. In the far western night sky, a speck of light appeared. This speck of light gradually grew in length to eventually develop a long fiery white tail. Many a night had seen meteorites falling from the sky. But this long lost space traveler was like none other pulled from the heavens by the planet’s powerful gravitational forces.

The nose of the fiery object resonated at a high frequency as it pierced the atmosphere saturated in carbon dioxide. This screeching whistle, emitted by the falling visitor, was the first unnatural sound ever to be heard on the deaf planet.

The high-pitched shrill grew louder and more annoying as the space traveler plummeted towards the lifeless ocean below. The space traveler blindly headed toward the crystal blue waters close to the rocky beaches of the great volcano. The shrill cry suddenly ceased as visitor from the sky collided with the churning waters. The unsuspecting sea quickly swallowed up the capsule like the many other rocks that had fallen from the sky before it. The exterior skin of the capsule sputtered and sizzled as the heated exterior plating was bathed in the cool waters. The violent forces of the impact fractured the metal casing of the capsule, splintering the hull into hundreds pieces. The overstuffed contents of the fractured container spewed forth into the churning waters. Microscopic in size, thousands of encapsulated particles dispersed rapidly amongst the swirling lifeless waters.

The environment was nearly perfect. The alien vironix capsules immediately activated. Relying on a biologic code written millions of years earlier, the vironix capsules took their cues from the surrounding environment and automatically, as they had been programmed to do, began multiplying and dividing. Within the first hour the vironix capsules had infiltrated ten square miles of water surrounding the great volcano, each capsule had already generated more than thirty generations of descendants.

Life, an ever evolving, all consuming, merciless plague had impregnated this primitive, previously untouched celestial maiden. The raw, untamed forces of wind, fire, and water thrashed wildly about on the harsh surface of the third planet. The unharnessed powers of the wind and surf quickly scattered the vironix capsules in every direction. The abundance of raw minerals served to catalyze the multiplication process of the messenger capsules.

Like a lonely, barren mistress, Sol’s third daughter willingly cradled and nurtured these vironix capsules and the Mother Program they harbored inside. Within a day, subroutines in the biologic mother program began to activate initiating the complex processes of evolution. From these instruction codes, carried by the vironix capsules, single celled life forms began to be assembled. The single cell structures, once constructed, rapidly flourished in the rich environment. As designed, multi-celled organisms would begin to appear some generations in the future. The ultimate goal of the Mother Program was to spread life across the planet, to eventually dominate the planet.

Chapter 2

The Moon Dance

Fierce, darkened plumes of storm clouds suddenly appeared on the western horizon. The summer afternoon had been moderate with clear skies, temperatures in the high eighties, and a faint dry wind blowing in from the south. The appearance of the rapidly darkening sky signaled the threat of a severe change in the weather. Militant storm clouds quickly overran the brilliant blue hues of the peaceful mid-summer skyline on the eastern and western flanks. Hanging heavy with moisture, the bilious thunder giants rumbled loudly, proclaiming their presence. The air vibrated with a prickly energy of uncertainty. The thunderheads churned violently ready to unleash the full caliber of their pent-up energy. Ecstatic jolts of lightning darted out from the squall clouds of thunderhead, stabbing mercilessly at the defenseless flatlands below.

Gutuk, was bent over a three foot ant hill. His stubby fingers and long uncut finger nails were caked with red clay. A carpet of black ants covered the surface of the ant hill as Gutuk’s hands expertly dug through the clay mound in search of grubs to eat. A distant crack of thunder caught Gutuk’s attention. Gutuk stopped his digging, and stood up erect on his two long muscular legs. He was faintly aware that he and his kind were the only living creatures that could stand erect. The warm, dry air that hung heavy in the still summer’s afternoon, suddenly chilled as a gust of wind ruffled the thick unkept matt of red streaked, chestnut brown hair covering the man’s head. The primitive earthling flickered a coarse tongue out of his mouth. The air tasted tense, uneasy. He rotated his head and looked in the direction of the western horizon. A jagged lightning bolt zipped across the darkening skyline.

The man’s jaw and forehead were well defined, the top of his skull had a flattened appearance, his eyebrows were thick and bushy. The man’s long, uncut, reddish hair brushed across his naked, dark skinned back. A long unshaven beard lifted up across the man’s coarsely haired chest as his two emerald colored eyes spied the storm clouds blanketing the horizon. The man’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. The sudden change in the air nipped at his cheeks and the naked skin of his neck warning him of the impending threat. The man’s keen senses instructed his primitive mind that danger was about to strike.

Gutuk, as he was known to his followers, rotated quickly in place. In an anxious tone he grunted out a warning to the clan members that had ventured into the flatlands with him. Upon seeing the storm looming on the horizon the members of the clan, stopped what they were doing. Fear filled their hearts as they looked up at angry clouds dauntlessly marching towards them. A loud, ear shattering crack of thunder split through the tension filled air.

Gutuk, grunted orders at his people, instructing them in a crude manner to make haste for the protection of the forest. The clan leader, clutching an old wooden branch he used as a club-like weapon, in addition to being a symbol of his rank as the dominant male of the clan, started in the direction of the forest crowning the eastern edge of the grassy plain. The others followed, panicked by the threatening appearance of the storm. The troupe of males, females and children numbering almost forty, thrashed their way through the thick, waist high blades of wild grass.

One of the young males struggling with his short legs in the tall grass, tripped and fell. As the six year old boy plummeted to the ground he let out a yell. The mother, already carrying two younger children on her hips stopped, but was unable to help. The female, barely sixteen years old, feared the approaching storm and sensed she had to save the two offspring she was already clutching. She turned and saw that the other clan members were already a good distance ahead of her. In desperation, she cried out for help with a voice as loud as she could muster.

The leader of the fleeing pack, heard the plea for help and stopped in his tracks. The other thirty-five members of the clan, focused on their own escape, swept by the tall male. Gutuk, turned around and spied the woman standing in the tall grass, some distance behind him. Her face shone of a blend of helpless fear and motherly compassion. He recognized the female as ‘Ela’, a regular mate of one of the other males. By the unwritten clan rules he was therefore not directly responsible for the safety of the female, nor her brood. Gutuk turned and spied the male loosely responsible for the woman and her children. The woman’s mate was already far ahead, well on his way to reaching the refuge of the forest. The leader of the clan shifted his gaze and looked back in the direction of the young mother. The woman was on her own.

Against his better judgement and with the threat of the storm clouds facing him, Gutuk elected to aid the female. Above his head, the advancing storm clouds masked the sun, darkening the land. Gutuk, his powerful calves pumping hard, lumbered the thirty yards through the waist high carpet of grass. The tall muscular male quickly reached the woman’s side. He looked down to see the small boy hidden in the tall blades of grass. The boy was clutching his right ankle and sobbing. Gutuk reached down with strong arms, lifted the boy up and threw him over his right shoulder.

He grunted at the woman and made gesture with his left arm. He pointed in the direction of the forest. A heart wrenching crack of thunder broke across the plains. All three children cried hysterically.

An overwhelming feeling of urgency swept through Gutuk’s body. The skin on the nape of his neck pricked and the roots of his hair began to tingle. He turned and bolted through the high grass towards the forest trees that stood at the edge of the plain. His skin felt energized. He sensed the female was following a little behind, but in his footsteps. The man’s foot suddenly caught the edge of an old, decaying branch hidden in the grass. Gutuk lost his balance and tumbled forward, spilling the boy off his shoulder. They both toppled into the tall grass. Gutuk’s face hit the ground with a merciless thud that stung his jaw and cheek bones.

A loud clap of thunder resonated across the plain as a bright light flashed from the angry sky above. There was an earpiercing scream that quickly died away and was lost in the whirling winds that swept across the top of the tall grass.

With dirt stinging at an open wound cut jaggedly across his right cheek bone, Gutuk struggled to get to his hands and knees. He spied the boy he had carried, sprawled out in the grass a few feet ahead of him. Gutuk crawled on hands and knees over to the boy’s side. The helpless lad lay sobbing in a panic. The clan leader rose to his feet, then forcefully picked the boy up and threw him again over his shoulder. Gutuk hesitated a moment to gain his bearings and looked in the direction of the edge of the forest which lay seventy yards ahead. He expected to see the woman fleeing toward the shelter of the trees. The female, her two children, were no where in sight. Scattered rain drops began to drop down out of the blackened sky. Gutuk glanced back over his left shoulder. His legs froze at what he saw. Lying in the grass twelve yards behind him were the charred remains of the woman and the two children she had carried. All three, lay motionless in the grass. The white globes of the woman’s eyes appeared to nearly thrust forward from the sockets, painted with the picture of certain death.

Gutuk’s stomach churned with a sick feeling of despair. Wrenching him back to reality, the nape on the back of the man’s neck began to tingle for a second time. Gutuk felt fear grip his soul. He sensed the storm was singling him out as its next victim. Like a distempered animal he cried out till he emptied his lungs. The primitive man turned and charged through the tall grass. Not a thought was in his mind except for his goal to reach the safe haven of the forest. His muscular legs pumped furiously till his calf muscles burned as if they were on fire. Sweat poured down off the man’s hairline, stinging at his eyes. He crossed what was left of the open plain in seconds. His scalp began to tingle. Gutuk guessed his end was near. He wondered what god he had offended so terribly as cause the storm clouds to reach out of the sky to burn his soul.

A clap of thunder snapped out with such intensity Gutuk’s eardrums vibrated so hard they hurt. With five yards to go Gutuk lunged forward, still carrying the boy on his shoulder. The two primitive humans landed with a thud at the roots of the first tree at the forest line. A bolt of lightning streaked down from the base of one of the storm’s thunderheads and struck the top of the tree. A second cracking sound resonated through the air as the mighty trunk of the aged tree snapped in two. Heavy branches of the tree crashed to the ground.

The angry heart of the thunder storm passed over the perimeter of the forest. The storm front brought with it a heavy curtain of water that poured down out of the sky drenching the ground below. The dry parched ground quickly turned into rain soaked mud.

Gutuk eventually regained his senses. He pushed away branches of the tree that had fallen atop of him and dragged his drenched, muddied and bruised body to its feet. He located the boy coward under a pile of downed branches. A look of fear and helplessness was clearly painted across the boys face. For a moment, Gutuk remembered back to his childhood, and the day his mother died defending him from the attack of a hungry lioness. He had been only five summers old when he lost her.

Gutuk swept the boy up into his powerful arms and held him close to his burly chest. He patted the young lad on the head and continued to hold the boy close as he proceeded deeper into the woods in search of the other members of the clan. Two hundred yards into the forest, Gutuk found his people all huddled together under the shelter of an old fallen tree. Gutuk sought out the sister of the dead woman and handed the boy over to her. The clan’s leader then took his place huddling with other males. He tended to his wounds as he waited out the storm.

* * *

Though no mechanical timepiece kept pace, for more than two hours, fierce winds ripped through the trees and harsh rains pelted the jungle foliage.

Then as if the storm had never occurred, the clouds thinned, the rain ceased and the sun reappeared. A radiantly colored rainbow stretched itself across the now vibrant blue sky as the last of the storm clouds disappeared in the direction of the eastern horizon. The temperature, which had dropped to a chilly sixty-four degrees, quickly rose twelve balmy degrees.

The sun hung low in the late afternoon sky. The brilliant face of the moon, full in shape, rose up over the horizon as the hush of nightfall began to infiltrate the jungle forest. Gutuk, sensed the danger had passed. As leader of the clan he stood up tall and straight. He grunted several orders and made motion with his club for the clan to move out. This was a night of a full moon, and there was duty to attend to. The others of the clan untangled themselves from their crouched positions hidden amongst the foliage and followed their leader on his way deeper into the forest.

As the rumbles of thunder became muffled in the distance, the clatter of nighttime sounds erupted amongst the jungle ecosphere. Birds, reptiles, and mammals of all species proudly bellowed their territorial sounds like audible lighthouses beaconing into the early evening.

* * *

An hour later Gutuk’s hairy arm reached out and pushed aside the branch of a tree. Drops of rain water sprinkled down from the wet leaves. Cautiously, the man’s two eyes peered through the blackness of the twilight. As the two white globes of his emerald eyes searched with intent, the ears carefully listened. Two trained nostrils located at the end of a large bony nose, sniffed at the air, taking deep whiffs of the night breeze searching for any sign of a threat. The man’s coarse tongue flickered out to taste the flavor of the night. None of the human’s senses could detect any evidence of danger. Satisfied, Gutuk rose up on powerful legs from his crouched position. With club in hand, the man turned his hairy neck. He peered at his followers huddled behind him. His clan had rendezvous with three other clans. The total number of the tribe was nearly one hundred fifty. All were hidden in close proximity amongst the lush jungle foliage. The primitive humanoid lifted his warrior’s club high in the air and grunted out the phrase, Ukaa muk. It was the signal for all to follow.

The leader of the biped group boldly brushed aside the bushes before him and lumbered ahead. He marched through the shadows into a large open clearing surrounded on all sides by lavish jungle vegetation. The glow of the full moon that hung like a minor sun overhead, bathed the clearing in a dim light. Though the jungle was alive with an orchestra of night sounds, no predator stepped forward to challenge the humanoid’s claim to his territorial rights of the clearing.

Slowly, the tribe of wooly bipeds followed their leader into the open clearing. The men all carried small sticks that they used as crude tools, and occasionally as weapons. The bare-breasted women carried the food and drink for the celebration and herded the children along.

One of the elders in the center of the group carefully cradled a wooden log under his right arm. The interior of the log had been hollowed out. Inside this crude wooden canister, ever so slowly, burned a few precious embers. The carrier of this sacred log, the ‘fire watcher’, dedicated his heart and soul to caring for the embers. It was the fire watcher’s duty to keep vigilance over the smoldering embers, insuring the embers remained eternally lit. The fist size charcoals of light and heat were necessary to ignite the mammoth bonfire every month. When the moon became full, the tribe religiously appeased the moon god by worshiping the face of the moon in a night long ceremony till the moon god was satisfied and disappeared from sight.

Gutuk, took up his place of respect and monarchy in the center of the clearing. He lifted his club, the symbol of his authority and shook it in the air above his head. This marked the beginning of the ceremony’s preparations. As Gutuk shook his stick, he jutted out his index finger from his strong right hand and began to direct the underlings of the tribe to undertake the various tasks required to be completed before the moon dance ritual could begin. The tribe had conducted the ceremony monthly for as long as Gutuk could remember. His followers knew their jobs well.

Though a soaking rain had pelted the jungle, this did not deter the men of the tribe. They were prepared. Several of the males went to the far side of the clearing and uncovered a wood pile, protected by a loose thatch of leaves. Dragging the dry firewood into the center of the clearing, the men constructed a crude pillar. Meanwhile, the women readied a herbal rhine berry ale to be served as the beverage of the ceremony. In addition, the women prepared a selection of figs, fruits and scraps of meats to act as a crude banquet. The meat scraps, torn from the carcases of small animals they could trap, were usually eaten raw. But on this night, under the approval of the moon god, they would thrust the scraps of animal flesh into the crackling flames cooking the pieces on long spears, till the meats inherited the energy of the god of the earth.

While the tribe toiled, some of the warriors stood watch on the perimeter to insure that their sacred ritual was not threatened by human or beast.

Under the Gutuk’s personal guidance, five of the elders toiled at constructing the ten foot tall wooden pillar in the center of the clearing. The men used branches and logs that had been harvested from the forest. Once the wooden pillar was completed the fire watcher stepped forward with the burning embers snuggled inside the sacred wooden log he carefully clutched to his side. The fire watcher knelt down at the base of the wooden pillar. Using calloused hands, he removed one of the holy embers. Though searing hot to touch, it was his job to insure that the fire was started without an ember losing its light, or falling and breaking apart. The palms of the man’s hands were well scarred, a hazard of having held countless numbers of embers and having started years of monthly fires. Carefully cradling each burning ember, the fire watcher placed the precious commodities slowly inside the small mound of delicate kindling located at the base of the ten foot tall pillar. Covering the embers with small twigs, the fire watcher blew a heavy breath across the glowing wooden fibers. With a technique known only to a fire watcher, he blew life into the embers which slowly ignited the kindling. Licks of small flames soon began to dance across the top of the thin wooden twigs. A few puffs of black smoke billowed up from the few crackling embers.

The fire watcher carefully coaxed the few burning sticks. He slowly fanned the tips of the flame with expertly timed gusts of his breath. The early licks of flame carefully nurtured by the efforts of the fire watcher rapidly grew in size and intensity. Soon the larger pieces of the wood pile began to ignite with the glow of the fire. Suddenly, the twilight was illuminated by large licks of flames leaping high into the air from the top of the now-burning woodpile. All the members of the tribe stood in amazement. Hypnotized by the fire they stared into the alluring warm glows of the red, yellow, orange and golden brown colored flames. The snapping and crackling of sap oozing from the burning logs captivated the attention of the onlookers. The smoky smell that swept through the clearing was intoxicating. As with every month, the members of the tribe were awestruck at the brilliant magic displayed by their fire watcher. They were a primitive people, servants to the powers of nature, yet their fire watcher had the power transform a pile of dry wood into a god-like display of intense flames that could flicker its brilliant fire tips up towards the star-studded night sky that hung over their heads. There was a certain sense of mastery and accomplishment that rippled through everyone in the tribe felt whenever a fire was lit. There was also an arrogant sense that maybe someday they could reach out and control the powers of nature, rather than being victims of the ever present deadly forces that surrounded them.

Gutuk bellowed out more commands. Though the fire watcher was himself a near-god, at these monthly rituals, he, Gutuk, was the tribe’s undisputed leader. Under Gutuk’s direction, some of the women passed out the rhine berry ale, carried in wooden jugs constructed from hollowed out tree limbs. Other women approached the fire with long poles fashioned from the trunk of stripped young saplings. These cooks thrust the scraps of raw meat into the searing heat of the flames. As the blood and fat dripped down from the chunks of red meat, the flames snapped and crackled with a ferocious intensity, and a delicious intoxicating smell swept through the night air.

Gutuk peered up into the night sky. The moon god shone bright. Gutuk felt a warm glow of approval from the nurturing god that hung in the sky above. With the clap of his hand Gutuk directed some of the men to begin the ritual dances. Ten of the warriors formed a circle around the fire in the center of the clearing. Raising their heads up into the sky, a club clenched in their right hands, the men began chanting the first of many ceremonial songs, raising their voices up into the darkness. Behind the dancers, three men of the tribe began beating clubs on top of a hollowed-out decaying wooden log that lay on the ground. In a well-rehearsed rhythm, the three males played, beat the log with their clubs to produce a dull, thudding sound of music. The three primitive percussionists quickly perfected their efforts into a lively rhythm for the warriors who encircled the bone fire to dance by. And such was the beginning of the monthly dance ritual honoring of the moon god.

The celebration wore on into the night. The men danced and the men ate. They filled their bellies with cooked meats and vegetables. They guzzled down quarts of the sweet tasting homemade, aphrodisiac brew.

Gutuk took part in several of the dances. He ate and he drank like the others, but because he was the leader, and the fate of the tribe rested upon his shoulders, he did not drink enough of the ale to succumb to it’s inebriating effects. Instead, he sat down with three of the other elders of the tribe and conversed with them.

With the music and the dancing in the background, Gutuk looked down and picked up a flat rock made of a dark gray shale that was lying on the ground at his feet. He had picked up this same rock many times over the years and had laid the stone back down on the ground in its exact resting place time and time again. There was something about the rock that struck him as different. Every time the music danced in the background, every time the moon was full, every time he looked at the rock, the rock seemed to be calling out to him. It was as if there was a puzzle that he was to solve, and the rock was the answer, though he was not sure what that puzzle was.

The rock was flat, it’s touch was cold. In it’s natural state, it was in the shape of a long, thin triangle. It’s edges were sharp and it had a point to it. At times in the past, he had taken the rock by the base and had even jabbed the point into the scarred, calloused palm of his left hand. The point had caused pain. He had cut himself with the razor sharp edge on more than one occasion. But more intense than the pain his hand experienced when he jabbed it with the edge of the rock, his mind haunted him with thoughts of there was something special about this particular stone. His mind drove him, in the midst of chorus of the music, in the direction that he was to do something important with this rock. He had sat in this same position, with his same club, with the same rock, month after month after month, and still his mind could not unravel the duty that he seemed to have toward this rock.

Suddenly, Tret, one of the three elders seated with Gutuk, decided to catch Gutuk’s the attention. Tret, the second oldest male of the tribe, peered at Gutuk who seemed engrossed by the rock he held in his hand. Tret cried out, Tu Gutuk, but the chanting and the beating of the wooden drums drowned out the sound of the man’s voice. Tret picked up his wooden club, and with the blunt end of the crude stick, reached over and jabbed Gutuk in the chest.

In the eeriness of that night, under the watchful eyes of the moon god, and in the midst of the ceremonial chants, Gutuk looked down at the edge of the wooden shaft that had pricked his hairy chest. At first he became angered. Then all the pieces of the puzzle that had haunted his mind suddenly all fell into place.

A mysterious door opened in the far reaches of Gutuk’s primal brain. A stream of new thoughts came rushing through a mental porthole, enough to paint a vivid picture in the consciousness of the primitive man’s mind. Suddenly, the objective meaning of the rock that Gutuk held in the palm of his coarse hand, made perfect sense.

Gutuk looked up with narrowed eyebrows. Beaming in his eyes, was a stark threatening glare which caught Tret’s attention. Reflexively, Tret withdrew the end of his club, as he recognized that he had stirred Gutuk’s anger. Tret began to speak out in a muttered apology. Gutuk lifted his mighty right arm and waved it to silence the elder. Gutuk was not interested in idle conversation at the moment. He had matters far more important to attend to. He had to explore these new thoughts that suddenly filled his head.

Gutuk picked up his long necked club with his left hand and cradled the rock in the palm of his steady right hand. He wandered over towards the edge of the clearing. The trees along the edge of the clearing were lit by the illuminance of the fire burning at the center of the ceremonial grounds. He looked at the trees and the vines hanging down. He stood motionless there for maybe an hour, maybe more, just peering at the long shaft-like end of the club in his hand, the pointed rock in his other hand, and the strands of vine hanging down from the tree that stood before him.

Suddenly, he reached up and yanked down one of the thin strands. He took it, placed the rock at the end of the shaft of his wooden club, and crudely began to lash the rock to the shaft. He ran the strands around both the rock and the end the club. He had seen a snake at one time in the past coil its body around a large antelope. The strands of the vine would be the snake. The rock and the pole would be the antelope. He wrapped the strands of the vine tightly around both the stone and the end of the pole ten or more times. Then he lashed the two loose ends of the vine together in a manner similar to the knots he had seen women use to tie reeds of grass together to construct their baskets.

Gutuk stared at his creation for a long time. Many shadows danced across his chest and face; flickers of light from the ceremonial fire that burned in the center of the clearing. Oblivious to all that was happening around him, Gutuk was enthralled by his crude invention. The excitement of accomplishment swelled his head. His fists were clenched tight. To the primitive man, this was a magnificent feat.

Gutuk jabbed into the darkness with the pointed end of his makeshift spear. The man cried out with joy. This bellowing by the leader of the tribe caught most everyone’s attention. The dancing and celebrating came to a halt. The elders that had been seated next to Gutuk stood up and lumbered over towards the interruption. Spying the three men approaching him, Gutuk whirled around in place and swung the now pointed end of his club in a threatening manner in their direction. The elders, oblivious to the threat, continued their advance. Gutuk lunged out with his new weapon.

The point of the crude weapon struck the blonde haired elder named Tret in the chest. The jagged tip of the crude rock penetrated the man’s skin, drawing blood. Tret, stopped momentarily. The grisly blonde haired biped then stumbled backwards as he clutched his chest and yelped out in pain. Surprised, the other two elders stopped in their tracks and stared in awe.

Gutuk played with his new found toy. With all eyes watching, Gutuk rearranged the pole in his hand so that he held the club at the mid-shaft. He then threw the long necked club with the jagged rock lashed to it downward, with the pointed end headed in the direction of the soft earth. The tip of the crude lance embedded itself in the soil with the shaft pointing up into the air. All eyes in the camp stood and marveled at the new feat demonstrated by their leader.

Gutuk marched up to his lance and ruggedly pulled it from the dirt. He felt power surge in his strong arms as he lifted the new weapon up into the air for all to revere. Gutuk grunted out, as a leader would, coaxing on his fellow warriors. The crowd responded by crying out in unison their approval and their loyalty.

With their attention and backs turned away from the shadowy tree line on the northern end of the clearing, the trees on the perimeter rustled without any of Gutuk’s warriors noticing. Suddenly, dark, hairy forms with hungry eyes emerged from the shadows. These uninvited creatures were human, members of a separate, warring, tribe. The leader of the rival tribe, a strong hot tempered male named ‘Kna’ was the first to leap forward from the shadows. Behind him, his warriors, all carrying clubs, followed in his wake. The pillagers, hungry to steal food, drink and most of all the power of Gutuk’s fire watcher, announced themselves with loud, chilling, deathlike screams.

Gutuk’s people, caught off guard, panicked. With fear causing a rush of adrenalin to flow through their veins, the women of the tribe, and Gutuk’s warriors, leaped in the direction of the southern end of the clearing.

Gutuk, with his strong masculine form, boldly jutted his massive jaw at the approaching invaders and proudly stood his ground. Gutuk broke the cutting edge of the advancing army by bellowing out a loud threatening cry of his own. Gutuk’s warriors, hearing the stern unwavering voice of their leader, stopped in their tracks. The fear that had initially gripped them was suddenly stripped away by the sound of their leader’s tone. The men of Gutuk’s tribe quickly moved to take up ranks behind their leader. The bravest warriors took up positions next to Gutuk, flanking their leader on either side.

Kna suddenly realized that Gutuk’s tribe had organized itself. The element of surprise was lost. The leader of the invading tribe halted in his tracks, ten yards in front of the line Gutuk and his men had formed. The attacking force, larger in number than Gutuk’s tribe, took up ranks behind their leader.

The moon was high in the sky, the fire in the center of the clearing burned brilliantly. Embers of the fire snapped and crackled as the sap was forced from the branches that made up the pillar. The dark jungle surrounding the clearing, had been loud with an orchestra of nature’s night life, but suddenly fell silent, as the warriors from the two opposing tribes glared at each other over the open distance of thirty feet. Warriors from either side screamed and grunted threats at each other. The threats were challenges to each other’s manhood.

Suddenly, Gutuk bellowed out a second loud cry. His men fell silent. Kna, as leader of the opposing group, did likewise. Kna’s men fell silent. Gutuk stepped forward. Kna did the same. There was a deafening silence amongst the two groups as the fever of eminent battle heighten. For a moment, all that could be heard was the