SKYTREK - CHAPTER 10 (standard:humor, 2998 words) [10/15] show all parts
Author: Danny Miami	Added: May 21 2010	Views/Reads: 2175/1631	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Chapter 10 - meet Stan the Prophet!!

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


“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,
smugly. 

“Oh so its rewards we're after!” Stan shot back, glaring at them.
“Instant gratification, eh!?” That's what you lot want – you aren't 
interested in worshippin or makin sacrifices, you just want pathetic 
bloody rewards.” He shook his head 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,” whined Barry. 

Stan folded his arms and stood next to the crudely carved wooden statue
of the Burning Ball and haughtily looked down his nose at them. 

“Yeah we've been makin sacrifices as well,” said Bert. “Like only playin
Caveman 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 understood.” 

“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 already 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 carry 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 trump-card. He gazed up into the heavens and raised his arms. “Ah 
but when that glorious day arrives,” he intoned, “the Deity will 
descend and lead the faithful among us into the Promised Land where 
it's nice and sunny and we can eat lovely tasty animals and bathe in 
warm water.” 

That stopped the sniggering. 

Stan maintained his heavenward-gazing/raised-arms posture but sneaked
glances at his flock to see how they were reacting. An air of confusion 
and uncertainty hung over them. 

“Might be worth waitin for,” Barry muttered. 

“Might be,” agreed Arthur. 

“Ah bugger off!” sneered Bert the Unbeliever, standing up. “Deity!
Sacrifices! Bloody Burnin Balls! I've had enough of this crap!” 

“Heretic!!” Stan screamed at him, pointing an accusing finger. “You have
taken 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
least 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
envious glances at him as he strolled happily downhill, heading towards 
Eric's. Eventually, in ones and twos, they stood up. 

“We've had a little talk, Stan,” began Arthur, pulling nervously at his
filthy 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 want 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 them. “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 joined the flock. One of them however lingered in the cave 
entrance. Although young, 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 saw her. “On second thoughts you'd better go with your family,” he 
ordered, pushing 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 go 
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 then turned and walked away. He had just gone a few yards when 
something in the sky 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 atmosphere 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 course 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 flames flickered briefly round the spot then died. 

“You fuckin beauty!!” Stan said gleefully, rubbing his hands together
and dancing with joy. “You fuckin beauty!!” 

He dashed back up to his cave and righted the statue of the Burning Ball
before 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
round 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 the 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 punished, didn't I?” he said, pointing towards where Bert the 
	Unbeliever lay squashed 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 his 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
folded. “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
muttered eventually. 

“Oh you were, were you?” Stan said, nodding and raising his eyebrows. He
strolled 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.
“Feeling 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 ways 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
arrived 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 them. 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 orders 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.
Enthral us, Stan.” 

However Stan wasn't really interested in divine revelations at the
moment. He kept glancing expectantly over the flock's head, waiting for 
the new ritual material to arrive. 

“Well...after the Burnin Ball, the Deity shall not be long in arrivin,”
he told them half-heartedly. 

“How long, Stan?” asked Barry. 

“Oh...pretty soon,” the Prophet replied then grinned and rubbed his
hands together 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 women pushed their way through the flock towards him. “Afternoon 
ladies,” said Stan, eyeing them up. “In there,” he instructed, jerking 
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 today. 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 and 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
anything.” 

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 ship had come out into the new Universe. Immediately they had 
picked up the traces 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 bridge, 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 observation screen changed to a close-up of Here. He telescoped 
the view in closer 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
that red stuff round about it?” 

Kharg stared at the screen. “Perhaps it is the colour of the soil on the
planet.” 

Giraffe nodded. “Could be, Boss. The Sphere doesn't seem to be
attracting much 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
intently. 

“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
trouble.” 

“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
forward 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
immediately if anyone else appears,” Kharg rasped as he drifted on to 
the Transporter Platform. “Send me down.” 


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