The Soul: The Dawn of The Overseer

THE SOUL: Dawn of Overseer

By: Leonard J Oliver

Copyright 2012 by Leonard J. Oliver

Published at Smashwords

Copyright: Leonard Oliver Publications 2012

ISBN: 9781476343464

Edited by; Angelique King

Dedicated to: Philip A. P. King (1942- 2012)

Also by this author:

Rex-34 Metal Messiah

Coming soon:

The Soul: Draconian Council

Prologue

3.3 Million Years Ago

"And God said, let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good..."

Genesis1:3-4

Roughly, three million years later they would find parts of her granddaughter, Lucy. Lucy's broken skull, now famous, turned up in Awash Valley, Ethiopia. The young Australopithecus' remnants filled in many gaps yet told nothing about the true nature of humanity.

It would be Grandma Ruth's story that would change the course of human evolution. Yet her tale was lost to the amnesia of pre-history; no one would know of her contribution and nothing would remain of her...

Primitive and chimpanzee like, her thinning fur coat offered no warmth during the cool African night. Uncoiling from the fetal position, muscles ached from the exertion of the flight last night. Though her species still lived both in the trees and on the plains, she chose the soil to rest her exhausted bones.

The dark earth offered warmth when she hastily dug her shallow burrow. By pulling tall grass around her coiled body, she was able to conserve some of her precious heat. Accustomed to sleeping with others, she missed the warmth of her mate. Even when he was on his hunt, one of the dozen sister-wives filled in for him. Last night, however, she slept alone.

Uncoiling, the thin aura of warmth dissipated as if blown away on the morning breeze. It reminded her she had no one, she was alone.

As a scavenger, she ate what she could find. Right now, the urge became almost overpowering, almost like breathing. The season, unfortunately, had been incredibly dry. Even with her family's best efforts, very little food existed.

Stubby fingers traced the outline of her protruding rib cage. Her bones pinched her abdomen slightly when she moved. Food had to be a priority today, while she was still strong enough to look.

The sole survivor of the harem, her foraging had now become a solitary task. Without the calls and grunts from others, it was going to be a great deal more difficult. Nothing was easy; it seemed, not even sleeping.

Licking the dried dirt from her five-fingered hand, she huddled in the tall grass. This time it was not for a blanket of warmth. Instead, it hid her thin frame and her bulging hungry belly. Flicking her nails over the roots under her legs, she looked for grubs or insects. Nothing was near her; nothing could temper the hungry feelings inside.

Primitive as her memory was, she could still recall the overwhelming images of last night's horrific encounter. Each death flashed repeatedly in her head with terrifying accuracy. The beasts ripped her child from her. In front of her eyes, it ceased to be, its thin malnourished arms clawing at the dirt a few meters from her shivering body. Seconds later her Alpha male died. His life sacrificed to ensure his favorite mate made her way to the forest and to safety.

She had instinctive knowledge of her place in the food chain. Unlucky for her, those facts were the main ingredients of the uneasy sleep she had the night before.

She stood there swaying and sniffing the air. Ruth's lightly furred body blended in to the tall grasses. As her birth mother showed her, she tried to emulate the left and right movement of the browning blades. With weariness in her muscles, she opened her primitive eyes.

Her vision had not evolved color: her kind saw shades of grey, white and black. Blinking, it took a while for her body to readjust to the world. Her age was effecting her vision and by squinting she was able to see further.

A single gorilla louse crawled over her groin. It gnawed at her one last time. The bite triggered an immediate response. With lightening reflexes, she caught it in her fingers. Glancing at the struggling bug in between her nails, she grinned slightly. Squeezing the life from it, the parasite popped with a crack. Dropping the small tasty morsel in to her dry morning mouth, Ruth licked her fingers clean.

Before Ruth yawned, she ensured she analyzed the morning sounds. Each bird whistle and animal call interpreted for a sign of danger. With caution, she rose to her wobbly feet. Calloused hands wiped the dry crust from the middle of each eye and flicked it to the dusty earth below her.

With increased curiosity, her thick brows narrowed. Straining, Ruth looked off in to the distance and over the horizon. Although getting older, with effort she could still look in to the far reaches of her field of view.

All of her attention shifted to the distant roar of one of the larger cats that hunted in the area. The same cat had supplied the harem with many scavenged meals after it ate its fill. Today she hoped, with luck, she might get enough to quell the rumblings coming from her empty stomach.

Her belly fluttered at the thought of fresh marrow. The empty growl seemed to echo from deep inside her as it caused her abdomen to twinge slightly.

Crouching down, Ruth listened to the roar flow over the tall swaying grasses. The iron smell of blood in the air relieved her. The cat had killed. It was feeding. In a short time, its belly would be full and the world would be safe, at least for a while.

Now, if she could get closer... if she could wait a little longer... if she could quickly dart in and out... she might be able to scavenge a bone or a chunk of meat. The thought echoed in her primitive mind until it became an obsession.

It would not be an easy lunch but the meal would far outweigh the risk. She had done it a number of times before, but with the help of a lookout. Now she was alone. She was hungry. Worst of all, she was desperate.

Creeping through the wall of brown and green grasses, she moved her four-foot tall frame with as much stealth as she could muster. The gnawing in her belly seemed to be getting worse. Even closing her mouth or chewing grasses made no difference.

With her limited intelligence, she knew losing her whole harem made survival more difficult. In time, Ruth hoped, she would find a strong dominate male during the plentiful season. Still being young enough to breed she would offer herself. But now, her desire for food overrode all other instincts.

A glowing light slowly appeared from the distant trees. At first, it looked like one of the bright dots in the night sky. With each blink, it looked bigger and bigger. It quickly moved towards her.

Not frightened, she stood ready to welcome it. She no longer feared them as she did when she was younger. Her mother showed her the visitors were harmless. It had come and gone various times in her life. They were as common as the seasons. To her tribe, these mini skylights had always been there. Their presence was as dependable as the hard ground beneath her feet. Welcomed, they offered warmth when the darkness came and heat when the cool rains opened up on the roaming harem.

They always brought protection. When they came, the nights were safer and soothing. More importantly, whenever it was near, she felt an overwhelming closeness to it; it felt like family. Only once before had she felt this. It was long ago; nestled in her own mother's arms, the day Ruth gave birth to her first son.

Lowering itself to her level, it coasted in the trail. Floating a few arm lengths above her, it followed the path she was making.

Ruth's attention shifted back to her goal. The smell of warm fresh meat became overpowering once more. Traveling for a considerable distance, her companion keeping a watchful eye over her, she finally found a hollow stump near the forest edge.

Greeting her, and her empty belly, were half the body of a small herbivore. Saliva already pooled and drizzled down her peach-fuzz covered chin. Almost within arm's reach, the rear section of one of the larger grass eaters lay exposed and unguarded. Its front was missing. The rear legs still twitched slightly.

A trail to the front section disappeared in to the grasses ahead of her. The blood and internal organs lead to the shade of a solitary tree: a safe distance away she thought to herself, no she hoped beyond hope. Unfortunately, it was upwind. Her scent would be picked up by the owner of the kill. With luck, he was content. With luck, he was gorging on the front end of his kill.

Inching forward, she made her way towards her waiting meal. It looked like easy pickings. Though the heat rising from the body was a clear indicator the owner was not far away, the temptation was too much. Thick gooey saliva churned and hung from her loose lips. It wet the dry ground under her feet as it dropped in to small pools.

Her glowing ball of light hung back, floating in the grass a short distance behind her. It reminded her of the lookouts the alpha male set up when they scavenged for food. This helped to ease her fear. With greater confidence, she hunched up her shoulders and stared forward. Grinning, her solitary missing tooth easily noticeable, she looked back at her companion.

Sniffing the air she could tell the beast was still near, very near. Nevertheless, the hunger was still overriding her desire for safety. Nothing seemed more important than this; she continued on, risking it all.

Feeling more confident, she sniffed the air again. Yes, the predator was close. Special care was needed not to make any noise; none at all. Reaching in to the near empty gut, she pulled out a mount of soft wet spongy meat. Dripping and still warm, the red fluid ran down her wrist. It stuck on her dirty fur until it formed large droplets on her elbow. Heavy and engorged, these swollen beads fell onto the loose dry grasses littering the area.

The first bite, devoured with no chewing, felt unbelievable. Wads of nourishment slid in to her mouth and coasted down her contracting throat. Its heat spread through her. All emptiness in her dissipated as she satisfied the raw gnawing of her stomach.

Her orgy of savaged ecstasy came to an abrupt end as she heard a sound. Rustling noises arrived from the grasses near the tree. Her ears perked up to find the direction and distance.

She stopped. Wired for survival, her primitive mind took over. The basic parts of her brain overruled her hunger as she prepared for two options: fight or flight.

Her eyes opened wide as she dropped the mound of wet tissue. With gobs of flesh still wedged between her teeth, she stepped backwards; edging towards the direction she came from. Her vision did not stray from the movement. She cautiously stepped backwards, left foot over the right one.

Swaying, still covered in the juices from its kill, walked in a gigantic Dinofelis. Massive compared to her three foot six inch body, its cat-like five-foot-long form slithered from the grasses. Striped and bathed in blood, it weighed about three times her thin body. With its vision locked on her, she continued her reverse movement.

Snarling, it walked towards its new prey. The wet fluids of its last victim still stained it's dagger like front teeth. Easily, it chose to ignore the hindquarter of its last target. Fresh meat now occupied its carnivorous mind.

Turning around, she decided to run. Fight was not an option and flight delayed the inevitable. The chances of losing this predator in the grasses were slim, but it was better than direct conflict. Normally this cat lived in the forests. Not built for speed; it still ran faster than she did and she knew that fact.

The beast was full, she thought. She hoped he would be sluggish and slow. Maybe, maybe it would be happy with scaring her off and keeping the hindquarter for itself. In her primitive mind, she knew the truth. This was the end. The hunk of liver was her last meal.

The bright light watched. As if observing a insect struggling in a spider's web, it did nothing.

The beast did not relent. It pounced from five feet away.

She stumbled and fell to her side. Releasing a death-rattling scream, Ruth closed her eyes tight.

The air above her head crackled. With her eyes now wide open she saw the branches of the nearby tree split. Faster than she believed possible, a handful of long bone-thick wood rose up. Instantly it flew forward. Mimicking birds in flight, they inclined upwards and dashed across her field of view.

Each made contact with the body of the striped feline and seemed to continue through. His face looked as surprised as she was. Sprouting blood from the wounds, the tangy odor filled the air again. Staggering, the beast began to spit up massive amounts of frothy red blood. Landing on all fours, it took a final step towards her. Eyes rolling back, it fell to its side; a few feet from Ruth's quivering form.

The massive head was no longer breathing. Its chest lay still. Each eye was fixated on the globe of light. With his two glassy orbs open as if surprised, the lids closed for the last time.

As she approached her predator's lifeless form, the light hovered closer. It did not stop until it was directly over her head again. The heat released was soothing as the levels of adrenaline in her body made her hypersensitive to the world around her.

Standing next to the predator, she kicked it slightly with her foot. It did not move.

Something else stirred in the tall grasses. Her senses were over stimulated and she was startled as new rustling came closer.

Pulling with all her might, she dislodged one of the strange long narrow branches from the still animal next to her. It moved with ease. Morsels of flesh and bone clung to the stick. Once completely removed, rivulets of blood traveled down as it made the short trek to her shaking hands.

Before she could throw it, as she saw the light do, the cautious faces of three fellow Australopithecines emerged from the sea of grass. One creature stepped forward, the alpha male. His head twisted to the right quizzically and then to the left.

The sight before them must have been awe-inspiring. There she stood, one of their own, at the foot of the beast that was the top of the local food chain. The predator was dead. It was no more than meat now; meat for them to consume and eliminate out of their body the next morning. A dozen branches, one held by this solitary female, punctured it. A glowing light hovered over her head as it emitted its radiance and bathed her.

For a few minutes, the world did not seem to breathe. All Ruth could hear was her own heart beating and the breeze riding over the tall African grasses.

After the short stare down, the alpha male of the harem finally approached her. His head was down due to the brightness of the light over Ruth's shoulders. To her and all the others there, it looked submissive. She liked that.

Sniffing her behind, he looked towards the others. Giving a squeal and a roar, the grass opened up. A group of smaller males, females and a whole mangled mass of young approached her. Each had their head hung low and this triggered a smile across her primate face. She exposed her almost complete set of teeth, a sign of greeting among her kind.

Slowly, in succession, the rest thudded the ground around her. Their squeals danced over the fields of grass and the whole group ran around the trinity: Ruth, the alpha male and her companion of light. With a steady pace, the bright globe slowly rose in to the early morning sky.

When the circle broke, half the members wandered to the hindquarter of meat. The others went towards the body of the large cat she now rested her solitary foot on.

The male took her trembling hand in his and looked her in the eyes. With a smile, he dragged her off to the side. It was out of season but he chose to mate with her, in front of the gorging mass of early humanoids. She accepted though it was not her season, she was not moist and it hurt slightly.

Ruth allowed it. She knew once mated she was a part of the group. She would be a part of his harem. The whole while, however, she never let her pointed stick leave her hand. She would no longer run from the beasts of this grasslands nor any other creature.

Today they all feasted on one of the animals that had consumed their species for generations. Unfortunately, for the predators of early man, it would not be the last.

One Australopithecus grunted as it pointed up to the ascending globe of light, Guhhh... ahhhhh...duhhhhhhh!

Each of Ruth's people began to repeat the phrase. Before the being disappeared, the grunt 'Guhhh...ahhhhh...duhhhhhhh' traveled over the Ethiopian grasslands like a wildfire.

Chapter 1

Modern Day

The Lady in Black

"The world is governed by personalities

very different to what people, that

cannot see further than their eyes,

believe."

Quote by: Benjamin Disraeli,

1st Earl of Beaconsfield, British Prime Minister

I looked out at the growing audience, while shuffling through crumpled papers and yellowed flashcards, and asked myself... why do I do this? Why did I punish myself with these public displays?

If anything, they took me from my real love. I missed the fieldwork I left behind to my young assistants. I trusted them; otherwise, I would never have left them alone at the site. Yet I felt homesick for the dry clay, weathered rocks and broken bones that littered my office. I was much better at studying the long dead. The living, well they were boring. I disliked interacting with them unless I had to do it. Today was one of those days.

As the minutes counted down, the over sized room was beginning to fill with the regular congregation. First were the usual scientists. Each black computer balanced on their chubby laps. Their data devices held in their free hands: sitting and typing every few minutes.

Occasionally their cell phones buzzed. After this, the fury of fingers dancing over QWERTY keyboards began again.

They seemed almost oblivious of me at the stage: I sorted through my scattered notes returning the collective snub. Though few of them would say anything after the presentation, their clicking would echo around the room. With every vocal noise I emitted, the flurry of keys bounced through the auditorium like a stuttering parrot.

Next were the second largest groups, the critics. They already knew what I was going to talk about and had come to do verbal battle with me. Their theories polished and sharpened, they were hoping I would stumble and they would walk away with an egocentric trophy.

I preferred this group in many ways. They allowed me to defend my beliefs. Though I never won all these mental assaults, I later could look for the answers and it helped me to explain my work. Though they were my enemies when my theories were young, slowly they were allowing my beliefs to build thicker skins. In time, it would strengthen my thesis as I found ways to stand up to their efforts to chisel it away.

The smallest groups were the believers. They were few and most of the time they cowered in the room. Hiding from the intellectual barrage, they too had their minds set. They were convinced of my theories, at times more than I was.

However, they did not battle. Instead, they counted on me to be their hero. Watching the exchange of barbs, a few would be brave enough to stumble forward later. Once the battleground was clear, they came to offer tidbits to help me with my next encounter. Many, I was sure, saw the whole exchange as a highbrow medieval time. Later they probably sat down and gorged on a large imaginary mutton leg as they shared a drink with the closest mug of ale.

Of the three, the latter were usually fanatics and crackpots. Unfortunately, they were my investors. To fund the theories I had, you had to think out of the box. You had to be willing to take your money, pass it on to my organization and be open to give more without seeing your returns anytime soon.

Today my investors were going to get something back. Whether they were content with it or not was completely up to them.

What I would be discussing was something that would explain nothing; at least this is what my critics said. The keystone I needed to hold it together was still missing. I prayed we had dug up enough articles, though, to open up a completely new box of questions, critics and desperately needed funding.

My train of thought derailed when the door to the auditorium squeaked open. It echoed through the massive theatre as if demanding our attention.

When I looked up, I saw something different: a tall lady dressed in black with sunglasses. All eyes, including my own, fixed on her. The raw sexual heat she radiated pulsed through the room. Even the geeks toying with their computers looked up. Their eyes froze on her glistening form. Their twitching fingers, previously dancing over keyboards, dwindled to a scattered click.

Without even acknowledging the mob of pencil necks, she went to the first row and sat directly in front of me.

An energetic high-pitched voice broke my infatuation, Mr. Harrison... MR. HARRISON!

It took me a few seconds to register the voice was talking to me. I was Mr. Harrison.

I broke free of the spell the mysterious stranger had cast. Shaking off the obsession, I looked to my right. Standing by the edge of the stage was the young man in charge of the multimedia hardware.

Mr. Harrison, he said, I’ve been callin’ your name for the last few minutes. We are ready when you are.

As he walked away, I figured out his immunity to the woman’s spell. Catching the eye of one of the scientists in the front row, he waved and blinked. I was not surprised when he threw the man a slight kiss with two fingers and the man responded in kind.

For a split second, my sight deflected back towards her. This time it was her brief case and the symbol on it that stood out.

The black box had a image that included a circle with a bisecting compass. Placed in the center was a solitary letter 'G'. A right angle square tool hung at a forty-five degree angle on the bottom. Why it looked familiar was unknown but I was sure she was trying to get me to notice it. Yet for the life of me, I could not remember where I had seen this symbol before. It was not archeological but damn it, I knew if from somewhere.

As the young gay man looked my way, I nodded toward him to introduce me to the audience. Odds were they all knew me; otherwise, they would not be here. However, customs are customs. As the ancient Minoans followed their behaviors religiously, our modern society still believed in the formality of 'doing what needs to be done' first. Though I was famous in my little circle of experts, I still needed to be introduced to all who were present... it was the custom of our times.

A tapping noise echoed through the room as the end of the microphone received repeated hits.

He spoke, Ladies and gentlemen. We will be beginning soon. the man coughed and moved the strands of yellow curly hair away from his face, Will you all be seated?

Our audience shuffled. They had the casual slowness of a group of professionals used to moving at their own pace. It still took a few minutes for the last set of knees to bend lowering their owners to the chairs.

I was impressed because out of the twenty-three rows of forty seats, it least three in each row were filled. In a few more moments, the conversations died as the coughing and shushing put an end to the noise. Frustrated by the behaviors of others, they chose to police their peers.

My eyes roamed back to the woman in black. Her sunglasses hung almost on the tip of her nose. From the angle of the stage, I could tell she was looking down at the tablet PC placed on top of the briefcase. Again, the symbol of the compass, letter 'G' and an angled squaring tool decorated the background as it booted up.

My mind, subconsciously and desperately, tried to dig up where I might have seen this icon before. I was sure it was not a company logo, at least none sponsoring my work.

The lights went out in the room slowly, giving everyone time to let their eyes adjust. Once pitch dark, two things happened: first the PowerPoint presentation behind me started up and second, the lady took off her obsidian glasses.

The later drew my attention the most. I had seen this presentation dozens of times before, but those eyes: I felt I had waited a lifetime to get one glance. Unfortunately, it seemed my fate was not necessarily hers, as she kept her face pointed down at the weird flat monitored computer.

My tech guy began the introduction,' Ladies.... Ah, Lady and gentlemen, welcome to today's lecture on Ancient Societies. A master in the field of archeology and anthropology, our presenter Jaxon Harrison will be discussing his theories today. Mr. Harrison was born and raised in Tilton, Newfoundland. He received his Master of Sociology at Memorial University of Newfoundland. Shortly after, he went on holiday to Mexico. After spending a few days touring the Mayan city, Palenque, he knew his life's direction needed to take a different turn.

The young man turned the light on directly above my head. Instantly, I could feel the beads of nervous sweat pool above my brows. Its brightness reflected off my reading glasses and finally tore my attention from the young woman. The shock caused a chill to run down my spine as I tried to refocus myself.

Studying Archaeology at the University of Calgary and anthropology at the University of Windsor, he has tried to merge the worlds of the social sciences with the lives and cultures of the past. His series of papers, and eventual books, dealt with the mass human abandonment of historical civilizations. Various academic circles and magazines have cited him. I give to you, lady and gentlemen, Doctor Jaxon Zachariah Harrison.

The clapping began. It was far from what you would hear at a concert, a debate or even a high school political event. Yes, it was that bad. There were four or five who kept going when others had stopped. In my opinion, they ended far too soon. In fact, sadly, the three people coughing in the mid row and the man talking to his wife on the phone almost drowned them out.

Again, why did I punish myself with these public displays?

**********

Traveling at my own pace, I ignored any obstacles arising from raised hands. The critics were all waiting for a questioning section. It was up to me to ensure I did not let it redirect me off my route.

Finally, my last slide came up. It involved a picture of something few in this world would recognize. It was the planet Earth with a blood soaked question mark. A droplet of crimson lay suspended in space on the bottom of the page. My book cover, at least the recent one, towered over me like a billboard: challenging people to buy it.

The lights came on without warning. Our retinas were shocked awake by the blinding light. Moans, gasps and groans echoed around the room. They seemed to travel in a wave from the front to the back.

I also made more than my own share as I rubbed at my eyes with my fingers, trying to refocus my irises to the brightness. It took time but finally we all were seeing straight again.

The two men in the far reaches, who snored twice during the presentation, shook off the sleepy feelings and sat up. The larger of the two had to wipe a long thread of drool from his chin, staining his light brown shirtsleeve. He spent the next few seconds trying to hide it from those around him. Luckily, both of them were critics, and I was relieved, as they would not be offering financial support anyway.

Finally the slaughter was about to begin. The three microphones were set up in different places between the eighth and sixteenth row. I had run the gambit, displayed my weaponry and now the gladiators were ready to circle in for the kill.

I felt like Emperor Commodus: after a thousand battles under my belt, I was still standing in defense of my title. I had one thing in my favor over Commodus; I did not have a mistress name Marcia plotting my death. In fact, I was single by choice;