Falling Stars

By James A Davis

Kurt Matthews is bewildered by an old mans story
of a legend, of Warajo and the falling stars. He now
has strange dreams of events of long ago, what did it all
mean! Who was Warajo? Follow Kurt on his quest for
the answers, to these puzzling questions!
FALLING STARS is mans survival!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Oct 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477153161

James A Davis

Hi! My Name is James A. Davis. I live in the City of Darwin of the Northern Territory in Australia. I call Darwin home. It is where my family laid their roots some Seventy years ago. Living here in Darwin has given me the tools of life, and to understand life itself. Here in the outback of Australia, is where legends are born and Heroes are made for this is the land of adventure!

Book preview

CONTENTS

Prologue AD 1479

1 The Present Day

2 Flight Plan

3 Karawugu

4 Legends or Myths

5 Greed

6 The Legend Begins

7 Anna

8 A Key to the Puzzle

9 Long Time Joe

10 Space Junk

11 Stick A Man

12 Sinn

13 Yen Lee Sinn

14 Yen Lee Sinn (Reassignment)

15 Super Metal

16 Homecoming

17 Eagle Rock Island

18 Betrayal

19 Visions of Death

20 The Arrival of Death

21 Greed’s End

22 The Fourth Plate

23 Turning Point

24 Homicide

25 Secrets Unfold

26 Road to Destiny (Part One)

27 Road to Destiny (Part Two)

28 Road to Destiny (Part Three)

29 On the Trail

30 The Awakening (Part One)

31 The Awakening (Part Two)

32 Aalaran

33 The Warajo Legend

34 Major Horzing

35 The Vision

36 Star-fighter—M627

37 The Journey

38 World’s End (Part One)

39 World’s End (Part Two)

40 Mount Zeil (Part One)

41 Mount Zeil (Part Two)

End Prologue!

[Kurt Mathews has his wings to fly in a small airline in an indigenous town somewhere in the outback. He encounters a strange old man who tells Kurt the legend of the falling stars. On receiving a strange piece of metal, Kurt has dreams of terrifying events of long ago. When Kurt’s girlfriend is murdered, the piece of metal is stolen. He sets out to discover what the legend is. Kurt is in a race to stop an industrial magnet and a Soviet major from retrieving alien technology. That would cause mass destruction, worldwide.]

[A Fictional Novel]

8/7/2008

PROLOGUE AD 1479

In an unknown hostile land, just south of the equator, lived the people of the Stone Age. They were known as the Aborigines (the indigenous people of the land), who lived and toiled in harmony with the land and its harsh and unpredictable environment.

This was the land of the Dreamtime, a land where legends and myths were born. This was a faraway land; this magical land was not to be discovered by the rest of the world for at least another three hundred years!

This was the great southern continent, Australia!

In a deserted area of bush, a small hunting party of native warriors crossed the open countryside towards the large rocky hills far away. There was not much rainfall that year. The bush had dried up under the burning hot sun, and the wildlife had disappeared. The hunting party was now looking for food farther away from their villages, sometimes four or five days at a stretch. Another group of hunters travelled to a faraway valley in the south-east, which was a two-day march from their village. The hunters were told that it was a good hunting spot. They left their village, hoping to find food. They had been hunting all day, but the game was scarce.

The afternoon was hot and dry, and the cliffs in the distance looked cool and inviting, where they hoped to find water.

It was the dry season, and the land was parched. No rain fell in those months. The waterholes had all dried up; rivers and creeks had vanished into the air, and all that was left was sand and rock. The hunters knew that if they did not find water soon, all of them would perish.

In the northern end of the country, there were only two seasons: the wet season and the dry season. In the wet months, December through April, the land would be rich and fertile for both man and beast, but in the dry months, May through November, the land would be dry and barren. The people of the land had succumbed to the ravages of the country and the sea, their ash-black skin hardened by thousands of years under the sun. Their hunting skills, which were handed down through the ages from father to son, were basic but effective.

Spears and knives were made from small wedge stones found in the creek and riverbeds; they were sharpened to a point on the hard floors or the walls of the caves. The spearheads were then attached to long wooden poles, which were tied with vines.

The hunters made their way to the rocky outcrop, where a small pool of water lay under the ledge, where all could quench their thirst.

The leader, a warrior whose name was Warajo (a man of war), was a man of mature age, with the strength of two men; he was undefeatable in war. With scores of scars on his body, which spoke about fearsome fights fought in many battles, Warajo was regarded as the bravest of them all. He stood taller than the others, some six feet high, with solid build, curly jet-black hair, short beard, and a hairy chest.

Warajo led the hunters up a steep rocky trail to a small plateau, which was a camping area that had been used over the years. One side of the plateau was shielded by a cliff face that rose almost twenty metres high against the harsh northeast winds. To the southwest, there were valleys on either side with surrounding hills.

As the sun slipped behind the far side of the ridges, ghostly shadows of blue and purple with a touch of grey and black fell over the valley floors, reaching into the blackness of night, which was now fast approaching. Warajo instructed his hunters to set up a camp and make fire at the edge of the plateau. They found small twigs and some barks of a dried tree and heavier branches later.

Warajo had a small piece of flat wood with a groove in it and a shaft about 400 mms long. He placed the shaft in the groove at a vertical angle with some dry leaves at the bottom, moving the shaft in a circular motion with both hands. He moved it faster and faster until smoke appeared and moved the smoking leaves under the twigs.

Warajo blew gently on them. Soon there was roaring fire, and the small catch of the day was soon roasting in the flame.

After they had eaten, Warajo pulled a large log on to the fire so it would keep them warm through the night. A log of heavy wood burnt longer than the light one. The night was cool but had a trace of humidity in the air, which meant that the build-up to the wet was just months away.

Soon the stars came out of the early night sky. There was no moon that night, so the heaven was filled with millions of small lights. Blinking bright and clear overhead, they looked so close that if you reached out, you could touch them.

As the evening wore on, the hunters became tired. The day had been long and hot, and a cool breeze now drifted over hilltops and into the valley. So they settled in under the rocky ledge for the night, sleeping on dry leaves and grass as their beds.

Warajo sat back against the rock wall, facing the valley, thinking of the hunt that would come tomorrow. Gazing up at the stars, with legs crossed and two sticks in hand, he tapped them rhythmically, chanting softly. He hoped for a sign from the havens above to tell him that the hunt would be good.

Then something caught his eyes. There were three large stars that weren’t there the night before. The three stars were of a triangular shape. One seemed to be of some distance from the other two. They looked defiant, somehow, and larger than the other.

Some moments later, as he watched, two of the stars started sending out light flashes, like the lightning in a tropical storm to the third star, time and again, making it pulsating with every flash that struck! Warajo was so amazed and frightened, all at the same time, that he woke the other warriors to watch this grand spectacle. Soon all the hunters were yelling and pointing to the heavens, not knowing what to do.

`I think the stars are fighting!’ said one warrior.

Warajo thought for a moment. Being the wisest and the bravest of them all, he turned to the others and (not wanting his pride to be hurt) said, `They are new stars. Maybe there are too many stars already, and the new ones are killing the old ones to make more space for them.’

‘I think you are right,’ said another warrior.

As they watched this strange event unfold, hundreds of small stars came out from the big stars and began fighting too. Sometime later and after many of the little stars had died, the fighting suddenly stopped!

A long deadly silence followed; the night became still and calm. Above in the sky, the stars seemed to be waiting for their pending deaths.

The hunters stood still, unable to move, fixed in a trance state, as these events slowly unfolded in their life… Several moments had passed, and not a word was spoken between them. The hunters just stood there.

Then without any warning, a blinding orange light from the first two stars lit up the sky like a broad daylight. A triangle of firelight leapt forth with its two long ends to the third star; it glowed, and in seconds, it grew bigger and brighter than the sun, and then it was gone. The hunters stood with their mouths open, not able to say a word. It was the most frightening and exciting event they had ever witnessed in their whole life. But the most frightening thing was about to happen.

Before their eyes, a small group of little stars appeared where the third star had been. A moment later, they formed a circle.

Suddenly, they fanned out across the sky like a firework display, shooting in every direction. Warajo pointed at the sky and yelled as one of the small stars was heading right their way.

The hunters huddled at the face of the cliff, yelling at the top of their voices in fear of their life. They thought that the world was about to come to an end.

The small star hurtled into the valley at a great speed, with a trail of fire and smoke behind it.

A sound of hundred roaring thunderstorms came all at once. Lightning and wind, which followed, echoed through the valley, splitting the night into two.

It landed a good kilometre away, leaving a trail of burning bush and earth behind it and stopping far up into the valley, some eight hundred metres away. It had left a long deep trench in the earth.

Then the valley was quiet again. An eerie, smoky silent fell over the land, and not a thing moved; neither man nor beast stirred in the blackness that followed, except for a glow in the distant. It was totally silent!

The sun rose that magical morning, sending its early shafts of red, blue, and yellow light into the valley. It crept in between the rocks, trees, and bushes, which were scattered over the hilltops and then danced over the valley floor.

A new day had begun.

The hunters awoke and were still shaken by the previous night. Slowly, one by one, they crept from their hiding place. Looking up at the sky, to make sure it was still there, they peered over the edge of the cliffs. They looked down into the valley far below to where the star had come down. The smouldering bush and the faint trail of smoke could still be seen.

In the distant, a scorched straight line stretched along the farther end of the valley.

`We must go and have a look.’ Warajo pointed to it, feeling more competent. With every moment that passed, his courage was now returning. But the hunters were still cowering in the safety of the cliff face.

`You are a brave warrior. But to go down there is madness,’ said others.

Warajo knew of legends and myths told to his people through the Dreamtime. He also knew the history of brave warriors who found star pieces—asteroids—and became fearsome fighting men in battle and powerful adversaries in worldly knowledge.

Picking up his spear, Warajo left the other hunters standing in the morning sun’s shadows, telling them he would be back before the sun went down that day. They watched him go down the rocky hillside of the valley rim, climbing over boulders and sandy ledges, to the valley floor below and on to where the star had fallen.

The hunters saw Warajo as he disappeared into the distant bush along the valley rim and far up into the valley until they could not see him anymore.

At the end of that fatal day, as the sun started to send its ghostly shadows over the valley, the hunters watched for Warajo’s return.

But he did not return that night or the next day; they waited patiently for two more days in the valley. Still he did not return; the hunters now were without food and were feeling very hungry. The valley had become silent and bare since the star had arrived. Water was now scarce, and no food could be found. In the afternoon of the third day of their stay, they searched the valley, where the star had come down. But the star and Warajo had just disappeared. The hunters reluctantly returned to their village, empty-handed.

Thus the legend of Warajo and the falling stars began!

CHAPTER ONE

THE PRESENT DAY

A buzzing sound of an alarm was heard in the early hours of the morning; turning over, next to a still-soundly-sleeping Kurt Mathews, Simone Wilson awoke with a start. She slowly reached over him with a sleepy arm and hit the off button on the clock radio with her index finger. Simone glanced at the numbers on the green-light-lit LCD screen with one eye open; it read 0340 hours.

Kurt rolled over and nestled his head against her warm breasts, which were now covered by her long T-shirt, with the words `LOVE ME’ printed on it.

She moved away from him and turned on the night light, which was next to him on a small, old one-drawer lamp wooden table. Now fully awake, she looked around the room and took a deep breath. Like their bed and the furniture, the wooden table was second-hand, and so was their car. Simone slid out of the bed and headed for the kitchen to make tea and breakfast. Kurt watched her through the partly opened doorway.

Simone’s T-shirt barely covered her ass.

Hmm, she looks good, he thought as he got out of the bed and into the bathroom.

Thoughts of her naked womanly body and the sexy way she moved floated in Kurt’s sleepy brain as he started to shower.

The cold water spraying all over him, this broughtKurt out of his half-asleep state and into a startled awakening. Thoughts of Simone would have to wait.

Today was the most important day in his life. He had graduated from The Perth Flying Academy in Western Australia. And now he was employed with Jack-a-Roo Airlines as a training pilot. He was one of the first indigenous Asian people to qualify in the NT as a pilot.

Kurt quickly showered and dressed. He smiled at the words printed on his white