CHAPTER TEN

“I was sellin used mammoths for a while but the

bloody market collapsed. Then I got into property,
you know, nice little cave with a panoramic view
of the primeval forests but the commission was
poor. Then I switched to the prophet business.
Now that was my best move – my life really
opened up when I got into that. All those lovely
daughters for performin rituals with!”
STAN THE PROPHET

PART ONE
On the other side of the corridor inside the Black Hole through which Kharg’
s ship was currently travelling there was a new unexplored Universe. Although it
existed in a different dimension from ours, this Universe was much the same as
our own with planets and stars, suns and moons, days and nights.
On one of the few inhabited planets there lived a race of semi-primitive peo
ple. Since they weren’t a very advanced species and hadn’t yet got round to spac
e travel, their planet didn’t really have a proper name although it was commonly
referred to as Here because that’s where they all lived – here.
Apart from being populated, the planet Here differed from most of the other
planets in that a giant invisible wall separated one half of it from the other.
On one side of the wall it was rather pleasant with a lovely climate, warm b
lue seas and sandy beaches, luxuriant forests and lots of different animals.
On the other side of the wall it wasn’t quite so idyllic. The climate was po
or, the scenery was rugged, the seas were cold and the only animals were sheep,
goats, mammoths and really big five-legged things nobody knew the name of.
Unfortunately for the semi-primitives they lived on the bleaker side of the
planet and understandably would have preferred to live on the other side but so
far they hadn’t worked out a way to get through the giant invisible wall.
The Here-ites lived in caves, dressed in smelly furs, killed animals for foo
d, were killed by animals for food and worshipped things like trees. However the
re were some amongst them who reserved their allegiance for a higher, if not yet
arrived, Deity.
Outside Stan the Prophet’s cave his fur-clad, unwashed flock were sitting in
a semi-circle patiently listening to yet another of his many sermons.
“And one day, out of that great empty sky, the Burning Ball will race across
the heavens and will drop on Here,” intoned Stan, eyes ablaze with fake religio
us fervour. “And this shall be a sign for us because soon after that the great G
od himself shall come. And God shall lead the faithful among us into the Promise
d Land, which in our case is behind the big wall that nobody sees.”
Sitting in the flock, Bert the Unbeliever shook his head in disgust. “Aw pis
s off, Stan,” he said. “We’ve heard all this crap before.”
“Yeah we’re gettin a bit sick of it,” agreed Barry.
“Tell us somethin interestin,” moaned Arthur.
Stan pulled at his long straggly beard and looked round them. “This is inter
estin,” he said.
“To you, maybe,” sneered Bert, “but not to us – a Burnin Ball fallin out the
skies! Bloody rubbish!”
“Yeah, bloody rubbish,” agreed Barry. “At least Eric’s interestin.”
Eric, a rival prophet, lived at the top of the next small hill.
“Eric worships trees!” scoffed Stan.
“So? What’s wrong with trees?” asked Bert.
“Trees are good,” said Barry. “You can sit under them.”
“Or burn the bits that fall off,” added Arthur.
“Yeah, at least you get a reward when you worship with Eric,” Bert said, smu
gly.
“Oh so its rewards we’re after!” Stan shot back, glaring at them. “Instant g
ratification, eh!?” That’s what you lot want – you aren’t interested in worshipp
in or makin sacrifices, you just want pathetic bloody rewards.” He shook his hea
d in disgust. “You make me want to puke.”
His flock looked a bit uncomfortable and embarrassed after this berating.
“Aw come on Stan, we’ve been waitin bloody years for the Burnin Ball,” whine
d Barry.
Stan folded his arms and stood next to the crudely carved wooden statue of t
he Burning Ball and haughtily looked down his nose at them.
“Yeah we’ve been makin sacrifices as well,” said Bert. “Like only playin Cav
eman Willie Hides His Helmet once a month.”
“And givin you half our food,” Arthur added.
“And one of our daughters,” chimed in Barry.
“Yeah that’s right,” said Bert, taking up the last point. “How come we each
have to give you one of our daughters, Stan? That’s somethin I’ve never really u
nderstood.”
“They’re for the rituals,” Stan explained. “You should know that by now.”
“Well why can’t you just sacrifice a goat like Eric?” Bert asked.
“Yeah, why d’you need to take some of our daughters?” questioned Barry.
Stan looked slightly thrown by all this but quickly recovered. “As I have al
ready pointed out,” he told them, “the daughters are essential for performin the
rituals.”
“More like for performin your nooky,” said Bert.
The others laughed.
“Your nooky rituals,” Bert went on, encouraged by the laughter.
“Look, they’re special rituals!” Stan snapped. “Only I as the Prophet can ca
rry them out.”
“Only you as the randyest can carry them out you mean,” scoffed Bert.
The flock laughed again.
Stan sensed his position was getting a bit shaky. It was time to play his tr
ump-card. He gazed up into the heavens and raised his arms. “Ah but when that gl
orious day arrives,” he intoned, “the Deity will descend and lead the faithful a
mong us into the Promised Land where it’s nice and sunny and we can eat lovely t
asty animals and bathe in warm water.”
That stopped the sniggering.
Stan maintained his heavenward-gazing/raised-arms posture but sneaked glance
s at his flock to see how they were reacting. An air of confusion and uncertaint
y hung over them.
“Might be worth waitin for,” Barry muttered.
“Might be,” agreed Arthur.
“Ah bugger off!” sneered Bert the Unbeliever, standing up. “Deity! Sacrifice
s! Bloody Burnin Balls! I’ve had enough of this crap!”
“Heretic!!” Stan screamed at him, pointing an accusing finger. “You have tak
en the Burnin Ball’s name in vain! You will be punished severely for that!”
“Piss off,” replied Bert as he strolled away. “I’m goin to join Eric. At lea
st you can burn sticks at his place an keep warm at night.”
The others watched him go.
“Unbeliever!” Stan yelled after him. “You will be punished severely for this
!”
Bert turned and thumbed his nose at him and blew a raspberry.
The rest of the flock were now muttering among themselves and stealing envio
us glances at him as he strolled happily downhill, heading towards Eric’s. Event
ually, in ones and twos, they stood up.
“We’ve had a little talk, Stan,” began Arthur, pulling nervously at his filt
hy furs.
“And?” Stan asked, his arms folded, his foot tapping on the ground.
“Well…we’ve decided to go over to Eric’s as well,” Barry told him.
Stan’s foot stopped tapping. “You bastards!” he spat, looking round at them.
“You ungrateful spineless bastards! Just because you have to wait a bit for the
 Deity to arrive, which involves a little bit of personal sacrifice, you all wan
t to go to bloody Eric’s.”
“At least you can build a fire there at night, Stan,” said Barry.
“Yeah you can keep warm,” agreed Arthur. “It gets bloody cold in these caves
after dark.”
Stan shook his head contemptuously. “Oh piss off the lot of you!” he told th
em. “Go an join Eric.”
The flock looked relieved that they were being released without having more
scorn heaped on them but still they hesitated.
“Well go on then,” ordered Stan. “What are you waitin for?”
“We want our daughters back,” Arthur told him.
“Yeah we want them back, Stan,” said Barry.
Stan shrugged nonchalantly. “Take them,” he said airily.
Arthur grinned then cupped a hand to his mouth. “Daughters!” he yelled. “Oh
daughters!”
A group of attractive fur-clad young women trooped out of Stan’s cave and jo
ined the flock. One of them however lingered in the cave entrance. Although youn
g, she was fat and ugly with a couple of hairy warts on her chin.
She sidled up behind Stan. “I’ll stay with you, Master,” she whispered.
Stan grinned. “All right, luv,” he said then looked over his shoulder and sa
w her. “On second thoughts you’d better go with your family,” he ordered, pushin
g her towards the others.
Disappointed, she joined the flock and they all strolled off after Bert who
was half-way up the opposite small hill.
“Ah well,” muttered Stan as he watched them go, “it was good while it lasted
. All those daughters!” He sighed wistfully and shook his head. “Might as well g
o and join them I suppose. It does get a bit chilly here at nights. Probably be
a nice fire on at Eric’s.”
He kicked over the statue of the Burning Ball, had a last look at his cave t
hen turned and walked away. He had just gone a few yards when something in the s
ky caught his eye and he glanced up.
From behind some clouds the Sphere came streaking across the heavens. There
were still some flames licking round it from its entry into the planet’s atmosph
ere and Stan’s mouth fell open when he saw it.
“The Burnin Ball!!” he muttered in awe. “Bloody hell!!”
The departing flock had seen it as well. They all stopped and looked up.
The Sphere was travelling fast straight across the sky and on its present co
urse would have disappeared over the horizon but suddenly it changed course and
plummeted down. With the flames still licking from it, it passed directly above
the flock and plunged into the small hill opposite.
Straight into Bert the Unbeliever.
There was a dull thump mingled with a strangled scream then silence. Some fl
ames flickered briefly round the spot then died.
“You fuckin beauty!!” Stan said gleefully, rubbing his hands together and da
ncing with joy. “You fuckin beauty!!”
He dashed back up to his cave and righted the statue of the Burning Ball bef
ore any of the others could see what he’d done. “Sorry about that,” he muttered,
dusting it off.
The flock had witnessed what had happened to Bert and were now standing roun
d in a huddle having a hurried debate. Moments later there was a unanimous show
of hands and they all turned and headed back up the hill.
Stan smiled as he watched them returning. “Great!” he muttered. “Here come t
he daughters!”
He wiped the smile from his face and was bowing deferentially to the Burning
Ball statue as the flock arrived and stood in an untidy group in front of him.
Stan finished a hasty low prayer then turned to them. “I told you he’d be pu
nished, didn’t I?” he said, pointing towards where Bert the Unbeliever lay s
quashed on the opposite hill.
The flock nodded and glanced uncomfortably at each other.
“Well, see you then, I’ve got work to do,” Stan said and turned to go into h
is cave.
“Hang on, Stan – we want a word with you,” Barry said quickly.
Stan pretended he hadn’t heard. “Sorry, what was that?” he asked.
“We want a word with you,” Barry repeated.
Stan strolled out in front of them and stood impassively with his arms folde
d. “What is it then? Come on, come on, I’m a busy man.”
“Well we were wondering if we…if we…” Barry began then trailed off under the
stony stare of the Prophet.
“Yes? Yes? You were wondering what?” Stan asked.
Barry bit his lip. “We were wondering if we could come back to you?” he mutt
ered eventually.
“Oh you were, were you?” Stan said, nodding and raising his eyebrows. He str
olled round them slowly, savouring the moment. “How was the tree over at Eric’s
then, Barry?” he asked, peering into the unfortunate Barry’s face. “Have a nice
sit under it, did we?”
Barry shifted uncomfortably.
“Have a nice heat at the fire did we?” Stan went on, glaring at Arthur. “Fee
ling a bit warmer now are we?”
Arthur stared miserably at the ground.
“So everybody wants to come back to old Stan now, eh?” the Prophet went on,
strolling back to the mouth of his cave. “Everybody’s seen the error of their wa
ys and wants to return to the fold. That about the size of it?”
The flock nodded as they stared at the ground.
“Well you can all fuck off!!” Stan roared at them.
“Aw go on, Stan,” Arthur pleaded. “Take us back.”
The Prophet shook his head. “Go an sit under a tree with Eric.”
“We don’t want to,” whined Barry. “We want to come back to you.”
“Piss off,” replied Stan.
“You can have our daughters back,” Arthur generously offered.
Stan sneered at him.
“Go on, take them,” said Barry, pushing his young fur-clad bribe forward.
Stan ignored him and stared into the distance. “Since the Burnin Ball’s arri
ved I’ll have to do new rituals,” he announced. “Special rituals. I’ll need two
daughters from each of you.”
“Two!?” Arthur complained loudly. “That’s a bit--”
“Ssshhh!” hissed Barry, nudging him.
“That’s no problem,” Arthur said, correcting himself.
“Yeah no problem,” agreed Barry.
They started to shove their daughters forward but Stan held up his hand.
“Hold it!” he said. “I’ve had all them, I mean I’ve performed rituals with t
hem. I need completely new ritual material because the Deity will soon arrive.”
The flock muttered indignantly amongst themselves then realising they had no
choice reluctantly agreed to Stan’s terms. The daughters were dispatched with o
rders to send back their sisters and cousins. Stan watched them go, the light of
anticipatory lust in his eyes.
“Does this mean we’re back in the fold then?” asked Barry.
Stan nodded.
“What comes after the Burnin Ball then?”
“Yeah go on, tell us,” prompted Arthur. “Tell us one of your sermons. Enthra
l us, Stan.”
However Stan wasn’t really interested in divine revelations at the moment. H
e kept glancing expectantly over the flock’s head, waiting for the new ritual ma
terial to arrive.
“Well…after the Burnin Ball, the Deity shall not be long in arrivin,” he tol
d them half-heartedly.
“How long, Stan?” asked Barry.
“Oh…pretty soon,” the Prophet replied then grinned and rubbed his hands toge
ther as he spied a group of new ritual material heading towards them.
A couple of minutes later, a group of fur-clad, giggling, attractive young w
omen pushed their way through the flock towards him.
 “Afternoon ladies,” said Stan, eyeing them up. “In there,” he instructed, je
rking a thumb towards his cave.
The women obligingly trooped in.
“Right, see you all later,” Stan told his flock, heading towards his cave. “
I’ve got rituals to perform.”
“Hang on, Stan,” Barry persisted. “Tell us about the Deity.”
“Yeah what’ll He be like?” said Arthur
Irritated, Stan looked round. “Oh, He’ll be…big…an powerful, you know, a big
, powerful Deity. Standard God type.”
“Is that it?” Barry asked disappointedly. “Can’t you tell us more?”
“I’ve told you enough!” snapped Stan. “You’ve already had the Burnin Ball to
day. Want another miracle already? Have ye no faith? Want to go back to Eric’s?”
The flock shook their heads.
“Well piss off,” Stan told them. “I’ve got rituals to perform.” He turned an
d disappeared into his cave.
The flock waited hopefully in case he reappeared but it eventually dawned on
them that he wasn’t coming back out.
“We might as well stay here,” Barry said to Arthur. “In case we miss anythin
g.”
Arthur nodded and they all settled down in the shelter of some boulders next
to the Prophet’s abode.
PART TWO
Having successfully negotiated the corridor inside the Black Hole, Kharg’s s
hip had come out into the new Universe. Immediately they had picked up the trace
s of Hercurium from the Sphere and had followed the trail across space arriving
at the planet Here a day later. Now as Kharg drifted impatiently round the bridg
e, Giraffe bent over his console and worked out the exact spot where the Sphere
went down.
“Come on! Come on!” rasped Kharg impatiently. “We don’t have much time. The
Klingers may already be down there.”
Giraffe looked up and grinned. “Got it!” he announced.
“Good,” rasped Kharg, drifting over. “Put it on screen.”
Giraffe punched some buttons on his console and the picture on the forward o
bservation screen changed to a close-up of Here. He telescoped the view in close
r and half-way up a small grassy hill they saw the small crater where the Sphere
had plunged down.
“There it is!” Kharg hissed triumphantly. “The Sphere!”
“So it is,” agreed Giraffe then peered closer at the screen. “What’s all tha
t red stuff round about it?”
Kharg stared at the screen. “Perhaps it is the colour of the soil on the pla
net.”
Giraffe nodded. “Could be, Boss. The Sphere doesn’t seem to be attracting mu
ch attention though, does it?”
“Perhaps the planet is uninhabited,” rasped Kharg. “Take a look round.”
As Giraffe panned round the immediate area, they both watched the screen int
ently.
“There!” rasped Kharg, pointing a bony finger. “Over by that cave. Something
moved.”
Giraffe telescoped the view in again and they could see some fur-clad shapes
huddled together in the shelter of some boulders.
“What the hell are they?” Giraffe muttered. “Goats?”
Kharg shook his head. “Primitives,” he rasped. “They should not give any tro
uble.”
“Are we going down then?” Giraffe asked.
“I am,” replied Kharg. “You will remain on the ship.”
Giraffe’s face fell. “That means I’ll miss your next lot of special effects,
” he complained.
“You will see plenty when I destroy Earth,” rasped Kharg.
 Giraffe grinned. “Oh yeah, that should be good,” he said. “I’m looking forwa
rd to seeing that.”
“Check the scanners for the Klinger ship,” Kharg ordered.
Giraffe leaned forward and checked all his monitors. “Nope. There’s no sign
of them,” he said. “Just us.”
“Good. Keep the ship on a low orbit round the planet and inform me immediate
ly if anyone else appears,” Kharg rasped as he drifted on to the Transporter Pla
tform. “Send me down.”