Spearthrower

By D. BRAISTED

Kim has always had food and shelter; she grew up in a comfortable world. But she is wild. After graduating from high school, she enters The Branch and becomes a highly trained astronaut. Kim accepts a classified mission and is launched deep. However, she is not just the test pilot, she is also the test. And then there is Kala. She grew up in the open grass plain with a spear in hand, but she is not wild. Her adventure will violently choose her.

This is a playful and sometimes poetic story that is a view of us. But there is hope.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D. BRAISTED
• Release date: Mar 4, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224852765

Book preview

Chapter One

A tiny little spot in the universe

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Another hot and dry day, in this world. A breeze is blowing millions upon millions of faded blades of grass. The grass extends in all directions, tallest standing three feet high or so and all of it shifting in a fluid motion as far as the eye can see.

A sizable number of golden tassels rise among the swaying blades of tan, waiting to seed, and the only sound is the wind gliding across this endless oasis.

Overhead, a blue sky stretches out to the heavens.

It is so peaceful in this earthly world.

Time has no place in the universe, and space is limitless. Beauty, incarnations, and dangerous creatures, this is the way it is.

And these grass plains have no exception.

Welcome.

*

Long past afternoon and the heat still barreling down, forms start to move into view out of a glassy mirage. Soon these forms become images. There are several barely-clad peoples moving through and around the grasses, wading through them like water.

As these humanoid figures keep approaching, it becomes clear there are three males and one female. They’re returning from the open plain; there is no game, no hunt today. This land has supplied nothing so all will remain hungry.

The woman steps forward as a gust rides across and past them. She grips her spear secure as full hair blows and surrounds her face. Her loincloth is threatening to fly away. Slowing to a stop, she surveys her world. There’s a hint of muscle bulk in her forearms and calves, with smooth, thin lines snaking their way under deep bronze skin, all tight and vascular. The spear she holds is a weapon, like her. And together they stand tall and imposing in this open land.

She turns her head to look over at one of the male hunters. Her hair continues to blanket the face, whipping away seconds later when she moves again. Her eyes, nose, and a trace of a scar on her forehead become visible. As if the sun shines down upon a battlefield and the battlefield is no more, boom, she smiles. It’s surprising how lighthearted and at ease she now looks when moments before she did appear dangerous.

What is wrong with you? Act like a man, she says to the annoying man.

Sorry Kala, I need a new string. It broke again, he replies while lifting his loincloth from the ground. He attempts to tie it again in a fumbling, half-hearted way. There.

A taller man laughs, he has long black hair that also blows in the breeze. Hunting with the men is like hunting with boys, yes? he says to Kala.

Yes, yes Manny. It’s all the same, she replies, turning her attention back to the one fumbling with his cloth. And you, Ki, hide that ugly lizard. Her eyes stare at his chest, and with a charming giggle, adds, Please.

They all laugh as the man in question struggles to tie a fallen garb upon his naked body, with the exception of one; he watches the scene unfold with still eyes. Try to be serious, try. His hair is shorter and tighter, not loose and wild like the other three that have joined him. He looks at this man struggling with his clothing and sneers, You can run, and you can throw the spear. But you still have not figured out how to dress yourself. He pauses, and then adds with a growing grin, Now act proper. This woman may become your wife someday.

Without hesitation, Kala challenges that statement. No, Makuhi. I don’t think so. I choose what I choose. Then she defends to all, I do the hunting. Nothing hunts me.

Yes, great hunter. Everything’s your choice, Makuhi replies, now with a full smile across his face.

Kala is not amused. A great hunter? I don’t know. My choice? Yes.

Now that everyone is dressed, they stand silent in the open grass plain, being one with, and blending into their surroundings.

Makuhi focuses on something in the distance. He reaches one arm out, keeping his palm perfectly parallel to the earth. His other hand holds a spear in ready position with the point aiming straight up; the other end is planted on the ground. He holds a steady gaze, scanning the land. He kneels and places the spear on the ground. He then lies flat, face down, on the warm earth. His arms are spread, feeling the planet beneath him. Then he stands upright while retrieving his spear. He looks in the direction of a hazy orange sun, reaches one hand out as if holding a newborn bird.

What is it? What do you feel? Manny asks.

Soon. Our planet’s orbit will be there soon, Makuhi replies.

Good. The rain is late again. We cannot wait much longer or we’ll all have to move on.

Everything was connected to everything, Makuhi felt it cascading down to his core and flowing through every type of binding energy in his body. It is what it is, all feeling earth and sky, and all within a large curving orbit that is always occurring, never unbroken.

The group starts to walk again to rejoin their tribe. But first they need to travel across more open territory. Hints of deeper blue are beginning to appear on the edges of one horizon. In the opposite, growing shades of color. Night will soon roam over this side of their world.

Earth and sky, stuck in the middle, the stars and beyond—boundaries exist, but the door is always a tiny bit open. Just a bit, not much, but if the body and mind are clean, then that’s all that is needed.

These hunters, Manny, Kala, Ki, and Makuhi, approach a lone tree that has survived near where their tribe has settled. Many olive-green birds are active deep in its thorny branches, preparing for the night. They can hear them, but not necessary to see even one.

The hunters keep moving.

A rainbow of color explodes across the horizon. Kala stops again, her hand moves out to adjust hair from her face; her mind wanders across this land. I ask as I see, why do I see beauty? A grin matches her twinkling eyes. Or is my mind tricking me, a dream?

Simple and no trick. The gods do not play with dreams. It’s all the same, moving through.

Kala turns to address this statement. Her face shows it all, complete satisfaction, total happiness. I know, Makuhi. I know.

Let us move.

As they march along, Ki speaks with Makuhi. Who we are is strong in her.

So many can be.

We are, yes.

Trees, birds, bugs, and dirt, much does exist. These great hunters are not alone in the universe. All can seem quiet, but a great challenge exists, and challenges do trigger the mind. It flows in and through but it’s really quite simple.

They have joined their tribe out on this open grass plain.

Chapter Two

Her name is Kim

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Photons of light burn through the atmosphere to shine down upon a planet called Earth; grass grows green and the trees are plentiful outside a sprawling city.

She’s at a party with her friends, Philip says to his wife as they stroll down a crowded boulevard in an eastern town in India. Both Philip and his wife, Jainel, have traveled around this planet many times with their daughter Kim.

That girl is not at a party, she’s gone tribal again.

Honey, don’t worry. Our baby’s just a little different.

Different? Jainel stops to address her husband. She tries to have convictions/beliefs, but just doesn’t seem to care. My child forgets her shoes, has fits of . . . I don’t know . . . fury, and she always forgets she’s supposed to be a young lady. Jainel taps her husband’s chest. And all this I accept, I do, but not that primitive stuff. After a moment of thought, husband and wife staring at each other, Jainel speaks again, Damn it Philip, her soul is good, why does she think she needs to purify it?

Well, it’s your fault. You tell her all those stories.

Oh, go ahead and blame me.

They start to walk again to find their daughter. The husband explains, Don’t worry, she just feels the world in more ways than others.

This world and how many others? Jainel replies. She’s just out of high school and now’s going to be in The Branch. She probably won’t even be staying on Earth.

The Science Branch only occupies our solar system, she can’t go far.

Still dodging the hustle and bustle of this early summer day, Jainel and Philip turn down a wide, tree-lined street. Shiny vehicles still move along and the modern buildings still rise from all around; Jainel continues the conversation over the din of the city, And my stories aren’t to blame for her acting like such a primitive street rat. And the way she fights, she has a good background; she doesn’t have to act so wild. I’m the one who grew up poor, not her.

A hand goes to his wife’s shoulder. Understanding the primitive can give power. Anyway, The Branch will be good training, some adventure for the girl.

I know, I know. I’m just worried, The Branch? They don’t stay on Earth, they fly around everywhere. I’ve read about it, they’re trying to reach other worlds, other worlds Philip. And testing unproven stuff. Why The Branch?

Let her be what she wants to be, Philip says. She’ll see all the new technology, be challenged, and maybe someday she’ll settle down and actually find a boyfriend. Now let’s find her, she’s been accepted and is to report in three days.

Oh, a boyfriend? Ha! I feel sorry for any boyfriend she settles on. You’d think she’s just an unenlightened street urchin. She’s an aggressive animal and wild, what boy would be silly enough to want her? Jainel smiles at her exaggerated comments.

Calm down, I know you’re worried. Human, aren’t we all.

The hustle and bustle fades out to a simple noonday crowd as the two turn down a pedestrian-only boulevard. No more natural trees, no more vehicles, but strings of lights high above, fountains, and numerous twenty-five-foot artificial palms present themselves in this dazzling metropolis. These palms have blue trunks and spreading green fronds, and each will glow once twilight comes. Shops, cafés, and people are everywhere—a nice couple shares an ice cream. To the immediate left is a doorway to one of the finest restaurants in the area; Jainel looks over towards three hostesses standing by its marble-lined, neon-trimmed entrance. With electronic glass in hand and looking rather elegant, all three of these girls have pulled-up hair, full makeup, and are dressed in cinnamon-red tight tuxedos. High heels are on their feet.

Why can’t she be like those girls? Jainel says. Why does my baby need to be so different?

Philip just smiles, understanding his wife, but doesn’t care to respond.

I know you hear me, Philip, Jainel warns. She should get a normal job for a while, or go to college.  

Jainel and Philip keep moving on; deeper and deeper they go, seemingly tracking back in time compared to the modern city humming several hundred yards away. Some of the buildings in this area obviously need paint, transportation is by foot. All around and down, soon they’re walking upon a rutted, dirt-covered street that’s as large as any boulevard; nice couples still share moments, and kids peddle trinkets. Jainel observes. They should be in school.

They are, Philip replies. But school’s out now.

Dirty and primitive, this is still the old way. Kim should understand that. Jainel looks straight ahead. I’m embarrassed by the past, Earth’s past. And still, look, now, untouchable? . . . like me? She should not go this way of The Branch.

Don’t think like that, and remember, our daughter knows more than most.

Jainel keeps hold of her attitude. So, you’re gonna be on her side?

Phillip has a big smile, he knows how sensitive his wife can be when talking about human questionable behavior. I touched you—brilliant.

I hate you, she mutters back which counts as massive flirting for her part.

They continue to walk. This still-lively area is lined with weathered and colorful markets, shops, and quaint two-story restaurants, all for the locals and the occasional tourist. Flute and tambourines are the backdrop for a distant drumbeat, a group of people gathering ahead. Jainel and Philip move up.

Ms. Jainel, Mr. Philip, Kim’s in there. She still has about an hour, a young girl, Kim’s friend, says while gesturing to a group of five.

Jainel eyes the five dancers, looking for Kim, then turns to Kim’s young friend. You’re not going to join her?

No, no, I’m not Kim.

A teenage boy, another one of Kim’s friends, approaches them. Your baby’s going to be leaving Earth soon. I hear she’s trying for The Branch.

Jainel replies without taking her eyes off of the group of five, She might be leaving Earth now.

The music continues while Philip, Jainel, and Kim’s two friends move closer to observe. Kim’s in the middle of her group, dancing, kind of. She’s hopping up and down while moving forward and around—good luck for the future or another world. Four others join her. Kim wears a low cut, skin-tight yellow t-shirt that outlines a skinny teenage body while her worn-out red and gold baggy pants don’t. Her bare feet are covered with dirt. After over an hour of dancing, the colors of ash and chalk are not so beautiful on her face. Her long hair moves up and down as she hops to her dance. Her arms stay low. Beads and bracelets circle her ankles, forearms, and neck. The skin-tight t-shirt is now dirty and damp with sweat but it’s the thirteen-inch needle driven through her extended tongue that shocks.

They better have sterilized that thing, Kim’s mom says as she stares hard at her daughter.

They all look, observing an event that seems to represent a piece of our way of living. Dirty and alive, combined with the up and down movement, Kim’s eyes start to roll upwards then gaze straight out. Long, sweaty hair sticks to the young girl’s face. Ash, dirt, and spots of blood have soaked into her yellow t-shirt. This girl, and four others, is not here at this moment.

What do you see? Philip asks his wife.

I see my little daughter named Kim.

Kim suddenly moves in slow motion as all goes silent; her mind drifts free as she moves through and stares out into the universe around her.

In the early morning, a phoenix may rise; now this world has a different view.

Chapter Three

The great tribe

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Stunning shades of yellow and orange as a distant sun is dipping away. Manny, Kala, Ki, and Makuhi have gathered with the tribe. Among them all, a child sits while holding a stick, dreaming of fashioning a spear he will someday launch with full intent to destroy.

He seems to be doing well, says the child to an old man. This child gestures to an inquisitive ant crawling along the dry branch he grasps.

But the animal will struggle like us, replies the old man.

The child looks up at the old man and asks, Why?

The old man stares off in the distance, as if looking at everything and nothing all at the same time. Why? Because that’s the way it is, the way the gods make it.

Gods, how many?

Ha. The old man smiles. Many and one, it is all the same.

The old man used to be a great hunter. His superpowers have diminished, but masters the art of starting fire and of making flawless spears. He has been through feast and famine, drought and rains, as for all who have lived to his age. Now again, the tribe experiences dry winds that bring nothing. The grass is thirsty and the food is scarce. This tribe is waiting for game, animals are waiting for game; and the game is waiting for the rain.

Like a great burden, an endless loop. The child props the stick some distance away, being careful not to disturb the bundle of active energy that is the ant.

Dry lands and the creatures—life—exist as the night approaches.

*

This tribe consists of twenty-seven, including several of these older hunters who are not able to experience the hunt anymore and some children who are not old enough to join the hunt. The rest are the lean, strong, and young, both men and women. Manny, Kala, and Ki are examples of these great hunters.

Manny has black hair that falls to his waist. He’s one of the taller hunters, having skin of a cool undertone, warmed by the sun. He has no beard.

Ki is the wild one. He has the look in his eyes from his actions that makes him appear more animal than man. He’s the fastest runner in the tribe. He has lighter, swept-back hair and a close-cropped, patchy beard. His bright white smile will shine from his tan body, beaming beneath his brown, iffy beard.

Makuhi has short, tight-curled locks—natural beauty—beauty like the other ones. While not the tallest, strongest, or fastest hunter, he is one of the wisest. He has the most experience. Some say he knows too much, but he says he only knows what’s passed on to him. He’s one of the older hunters that are still able to keep up with the young and wild.

Kala was born on one of the hottest days in the middle of the summer out in the open grass plain. Oh, you choose now, her mother said as she placed the child into a satchel upon her back, and then continued on. Now, five years past puberty, Kala stands tall and thin. She can outrun most of the other hunters. She has dark brown, shoulder-length hair and a little scar on her forehead, a parting gift from an encounter with a buffalo. When she was younger, she charged the animal with a spear and pushed it in deep. She then jumped on top of the animal to make sure it did not get away.

The buffalo threw Kala off. She flipped over the animal’s head and landed on her back. The only damage she got was a deep, half-inch cut on her forehead. The tip of the animal’s horn had nicked her as she tumbled to the ground.

The buffalo collapsed moments later, Kala’s first kill.

Crazy girl, Makuhi later said.

Never do that again, a multi-scarred woman added, her eyes studying this courageous Kala through long and slightly tangled hair.

While Kala can act crazy when the occasion seizes her, most of the time she’s gentle and quick to show a smile. Wild rage is reserved for the hunt, and the hunt is for food.

*

The night begins to settle as Manny, Kala, Ki, and the rest of the hunters have all congregated into small groups near a small fire. It’s a cloudless dusk and a soft breeze finds its way through several nearby trees that are located out in this open grass plain. Hidden birds are still chirping in thorny branches. And far off across the land is the groan of a distant lion. What an unspoiled and magical world.

Manny, Kala, and Ki are in one group, sitting akin to the old man and the child. They’re fixing spears and relaxing, listening to the old man’s reply. Ki speaks while continuing to give attention to his spear, I think dreams are the way we reach the gods, and I dream of the open land and a good hunt.

I wonder if they have to hunt for food just like us, Manny jokes.

Kala looks up at the deep violet sky that’s starting to show tiny pinpricks of light. She smiles and says, I dream of being with them.

The gods? asks Manny.

No, Kala replies. Up there with the stars in the sky.

Silly girl, Ki says while viewing Kala. He gives full attention to Kala, then back to fixing a loose arrowhead at the end of his weapon. Kala just sits there, never looking at Ki.

Maybe you’re dreaming now, dreaming of getting your spear ready for a great hunt, Manny adds.

Everyone laughs, including Kala. Interpreting dreams, talk of daily life, and storytelling are always a good and fun way to pass time and let the mind drift free.

The tribe continues to sit and converse. They’re relaxed and feeling at ease as their fire crackles and glows. Among this group of twenty-seven is the middle-aged woman with long and slightly tangled hair that envelops her face. Her eyes look out through these unkempt strands. She has sharp, clear eyes among many scars; about ten scars mark her face. Most are one-half inch in length or less, but two are much larger: one is slicing horizontally across her left cheekbone, the other starting just above her right eye and ripping back and up into the hairline.

Healed wounds mark her right arm, her hands; one finger is missing. Both of her legs are scarred. This woman has beautiful bronze skin, still youthful at her age, but battle wounds mark her like real-world tattoos, each one telling a story of life—a very powerful life.

Like a quiet mouse, she sits and observes Kala while grinding an arrowhead. With a slight hint of nerves, Kala ignores this person. Kala’s a big girl now.

Looking off to the horizon, distant streaks of maroon and red silhouette the nearby tree. A few degrees of this planet’s rotation, maroon deepens to black. Makuhi stands. The scraggly-haired scarred woman watches. Makuhi reaches both arms high above his head and opens his fingers wide. He looks at the stars, circles his arms back down. He starts to walk around the fire, then stops and bends to gather a small amount of dirt. He lets this dirt filter through his fingers and return to the warm earth, stands and looks at the night’s sky again, then continues to walk around the fire. Now and then he moves his hands out, keeping his palms down with fingers open, to feel the earth or let the earth feel him. He’s becoming it all: the dirt and the sky, the trees and the birds, the known and the unknown. Then, he feels the answers. There is silence. He stops, takes a deep breath and smiles. He stretches wide and returns to his spot near the fire and continues work on his spear.

All the hunters have noticed, but none are worried. They have seen this before. These people can feel the world around them—like an animal, instinct. They can learn and understand—like a human, creating. Controlling both, possibilities are endless.

Their ancients are great. Their future can shine. One plus one equals two, they know this; their minds think clean. What are we that we do not understand? Kala looks at Makuhi with a peaceful smile. Manny watches a small amber rise from the fire to meet the sky. Ki is fixing his spear, feeling great.

Arrowhead now secure, Ki looks up and says, My feet are itchy, this is good. It means a good hunt is near. They are ready to run.

Makuhi laughs. I think you mean your feet are stinky. Now what does that mean?

Ah, let me see, Ki replies. I think that means my spear will be first to strike.

Makuhi lifts his wooden shaft to show a three-inch colorful feather he’s tied, near the tip. I don’t think so. My spear will fly like a bird.

Kala laughs at the exchange.

What about you. Will your spear be first to strike? Ki asks.

Kala stops laughing. She starts to look serious, acting serious, like she’s older than she is. She places one hand on a spear that’s lying on the ground next to her, fingertips ever-so-gently touching the shaft. She then puts that hand on the ground next to the spear. She looks up and says, We are all hunters. The spears are all spears. If one strikes, they all strike. Can you feel that, what I am feeling? She now looks at everyone, and everyone is now looking at her.

The old man laughs. So wise for such a young hunter.

Makuhi stands. Yes, she’s confusing but speaks the truth. He lifts his spear above his head and continues, To a good hunt soon to come. Some other hunters nearby also lift spears. The scarred lady smiles. Shining through tangled hair, it is one of the loveliest smiles ever seen. But she does not speak.

There’s excitement moving through this small tribe. It’s been too long since they’ve had a good hunt, too long since a spear has penetrated an animal’s hide, soon to be tasting fresh meat—too long for many things. A million years is a blink of an eye.

After a while and thoughts of satisfying hunger, the tribe settles down and prepares for sleep. They’ll be up with the first light of dawn, as always.

Chapter Four

Everything’s connected to everything

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The hunters arrange themselves to sleep on thick, woven straw mats, covering themselves with either a delicately woven grass blanket or prepared and cleaned animal hides. Most will pull these blankets tight to the chin. The night air gets cool but not cold. Insects and such are not a problem, with the fire burning and the occasional use of a special oil. This oil is from the Seenini nut, a thin watery fluid that’s easily applied. It smells pleasant, rather fruity like a lime, but the bugs are not fond of it.

The tribe also bathes periodically when it rains, stripping down to wash in the heavy downpour. The girls will help clean the girls’ backs and the boys will help with the boys. There’s seldom any help from the opposite sex during bathing as it may lead to mating and thus instant marriage. As simple as that, there’s no playing around in this hard land. 

Some have expertly woven lean-tos to sleep under. All use these when it rains and some prefer to use them when it does not. Kala uses a lean-to; nobody sleeps with her.

Hey, Ki. Why did you lose your clothes again? Please explain, Manny asks while everyone’s quieting down for sleep.

It was an accident. String not good.

Are you sure you were not trying to impress a woman?

No, no, Manny. The string broke again, Ki replies while struggling not to laugh. It has happened to us all.

Please be quiet. I don’t want to hear this, Kala adds, sounding frustrated but now all comfortably curled up under her lean-to.

But I think Ki was trying—

Shut up, Kala snaps back while laughing, then grumbling. Hunting with men can be like hunting with boys, and sleeping near them is like sleeping with children.

I would not walk around naked to impress a woman. I’m not that stupid, Ki tries to explain.

Yes you are, Makuhi adds. Now get to sleep. We have not eaten well for a long time, do not waste energy on this.

We’re just trying to understand Ki, Manny says.

I understand everything. Now shut up, Kala informs them.

They keep quiet and settle in for the night. There happens to be a seriously waning crescent moon above so all is black, except for the thousands upon thousands of distant sparkling dots.

They sleep well as the night awakens and their small fire tries to burn itself out. The calm air gets cool as morning approaches.

All is quiet in this tiny little spot in the universe. But little do they know, an epic event is stirring, one which none foresee but some may have felt. 

*

First light starts to creep over this land from the horizon. It touches the tops of the dry grass and moves through the low fog. Like dusk, dawn is a magical time.

The tribe wakes, including Manny, Kala, and Ki. As they rise, Kala starts to lose her balance, falls to the ground and claws at the dirt. Like a newborn animal struggling for first life, she claws at this large round planet below her. She tries to scream, but silence is released; panic flows through her shifting eyes. With the last fingers digging in, she comes to her senses and lets go. This frees her body to stand with the others.

Manny and Ki wait for Kala to rise from the earth, not showing much concern. Kala makes it to her feet and becomes calm; she glances around to make sure a certain scarred face did not see. Ki now pats her on the shoulder then moves his hand to the side of her head where he grabs Kala’s hair, proceeding to shake the girl a few times with a grip. You need to learn to wake up, he says. Ki does not dare touch this woman unless it’s the right time and this was.

I’m good, Kala explains.

Too many wild dreams?

I think so, Ki, but I don’t remember.

In some ways, everything is connected to everything, the scarred lady intones. She had observed Kala collapse before. This has been happening more frequently, but Kala always becomes strong and alert, so not a problem. But that scarred face has been keeping an eye on her. Quantum physics may be occurring; so many distances can be irrelevant.

Their morning routine continues: move around to get the blood flowing, adjust and reapply garb, then look for food. One sip each of precious water is taken.

Makuhi and another hunter were up early