Five months into the beginning of the new project the beast had not yet been moved even a few centimeters. At the quarry one stone had been cut and moved only about 90 meters over a period of several weeks. Only the massive hole near Amesbury had shown some progress for the tribes as it was about 2 meters deep and the circular mound of excavated earth around the hole was about 3 meters high, and from a distance the mound concealed the work inside the ring of dirt and stones.
The big delay in progress was at the "silver bird," its name now established. The task of priority was fitting the bird's landing pads or "feet" into the large canoe-shaped, sleek and smoothly carved sleds. Several of the first experimental wood sleds took weeks to create only to prove inadequate or break in half under the weight of only one quarter of the silver bird. But the greatest challenge, once a large enough and durable enough sled design was built, was the lifting of the saucer four times from four sides, high enough, less than half a meter, to fit each of its feet onto a sled. This was a months long project of incredible labor filled with frustration, anger, and hopelessness. But the tribe possessed, motivated to save their lives, new growing confidence, ingenuity, fortitude, and driving persistence.
They learned and they leveraged, using poles of specific lengths planted into the ground under the silver bird; poles pounded into place against the skin of the bird by swinging boulders; poles to sit upright to maintain height, one tiny fraction of a centimeter after another. When the saucer finally left its place in Durrington, the poles of varying lengths gave an appearance as if they had been randomly shot from the sky into the ground in an oblong circle of strangely organized targeting. When it was over, the Eastern Sea tribe was happy to be leaving that scene of months and months of struggle and experimentation, and mistakes and heartache. Four rope lines, each pulled by more than one hundred people, each wrapped around the lower legs of each of the four landing gear, their feet roped tightly onto the sleds. A mobile wooden roadway of hundreds of small logs and thick branches had to be moved and adjusted constantly to get footing for the rope pullers and to allow the sleds to roll.
Once across the stream and up the first slope, the rain, mud, heat and cold, became the natural and uncontrollable barriers of the tribe's miserable daily challenge. Through snow and rain they pulled and fought the ground for very small distances per hour, sometimes per day. Sleds broke causing delays. Sickness affected at least one fifth of every tribe, and struck several times during the length of the project.
Many died. The Beaker people had stopped making children. Fighting among arguing hunters and work-masters, sometimes to the death, became frequent. The Elders soon realized this condition of misery may destroy the entire project. Time to rest was desperately called for among all. But that time was thought of as time that would allow the grey beings to get closer to them, to find the silver bird and the bodies within, this idea of stopping for even one day, was dismissed as too dangerous.
The big delay in progress was at the "silver bird," its name now established. The task of priority was fitting the bird's landing pads or "feet" into the large canoe-shaped, sleek and smoothly carved sleds. Several of the first experimental wood sleds took weeks to create only to prove inadequate or break in half under the weight of only one quarter of the silver bird. But the greatest challenge, once a large enough and durable enough sled design was built, was the lifting of the saucer four times from four sides, high enough, less than half a meter, to fit each of its feet onto a sled. This was a months long project of incredible labor filled with frustration, anger, and hopelessness. But the tribe possessed, motivated to save their lives, new growing confidence, ingenuity, fortitude, and driving persistence.
They learned and they leveraged, using poles of specific lengths planted into the ground under the silver bird; poles pounded into place against the skin of the bird by swinging boulders; poles to sit upright to maintain height, one tiny fraction of a centimeter after another. When the saucer finally left its place in Durrington, the poles of varying lengths gave an appearance as if they had been randomly shot from the sky into the ground in an oblong circle of strangely organized targeting. When it was over, the Eastern Sea tribe was happy to be leaving that scene of months and months of struggle and experimentation, and mistakes and heartache. Four rope lines, each pulled by more than one hundred people, each wrapped around the lower legs of each of the four landing gear, their feet roped tightly onto the sleds. A mobile wooden roadway of hundreds of small logs and thick branches had to be moved and adjusted constantly to get footing for the rope pullers and to allow the sleds to roll.
Once across the stream and up the first slope, the rain, mud, heat and cold, became the natural and uncontrollable barriers of the tribe's miserable daily challenge. Through snow and rain they pulled and fought the ground for very small distances per hour, sometimes per day. Sleds broke causing delays. Sickness affected at least one fifth of every tribe, and struck several times during the length of the project.
Many died. The Beaker people had stopped making children. Fighting among arguing hunters and work-masters, sometimes to the death, became frequent. The Elders soon realized this condition of misery may destroy the entire project. Time to rest was desperately called for among all. But that time was thought of as time that would allow the grey beings to get closer to them, to find the silver bird and the bodies within, this idea of stopping for even one day, was dismissed as too dangerous.
"The weight was too much, the task was beyond their technology, their comrades would have to be left there under the dirt, light years from their homes and families, until a later time."
All Rights Reserved: James Gray Mason, 2015
#Stonehenge #Neolithic #ScienceFiction #Fiction #UnitedKingdom #HerMajesty #MI5 #NSA #CIA #TimeTravelWish #Sol3 #JamesGMason #UFO #Mufon #YouAssholes ! :-)
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