He was about five wearing a rotting hide. It was early spring. A dozen children caught Minnows and tad poles in the freezing water. They were starving and would eat anything they could find.
Not far from the cave the ice never melted. John Blake did not fit in. He was straight, tall and had brown hair and gray eyes. The other children were stooped, dark brown with black hair and eyes. A girl stunted by starvation followed him one unlucky minnow, tad pole or what ever would go to his mouth the next he would pass back to her outstretched hand. The weather warmed and they were eating black berries from brire vines on a hillside. He saw something move as she reached for a cluster of ripe berries. His hand shot out and the snake's fangs sank into the flesh between his thumb and forefinger. A bite to its head and it was roasted over a small fire. His hand and arm swelled to near twice normal side. The girl helped him to a stream and carried coals to make a fire. For several days he thought he would die but he recovered and returned to the caves but someone had claimed his sleeping place. A spear was thrust forward and up. His left hand swept it aside and his right came up driving the attackers nose bones back into his skull. He thought the others would attack but they simply dragged the lifeless body to the entrance and dropped it over the cliff into the stream below. So it went. One lived or died by his or her reflexes and John's were ten time normal. Where did he come from? Who was he? Would he survive? Get a copy or download and see.
Excerpt
Explorer One was made ready. The jump to Beta Four was a long one. It hadn’t been done before. No one knew what would happen. Cargo was checked. All circuits were checked and rechecked. The little ship hummed with activity.
“All circuits are go.” The ships computer announced.
“Very well, Proceed.” John said.
The little ship maneuvered for position, and then gradually began to apply power. The Tacheon fields built up around her as they absorbed power. “Fields building,” She reported as she began to maneuver galactic Westward.
Not much was known about the Tacheon field. Dr. Martha Barnes, its inventor had died a few weeks earlier, leaving a huge void in the station’s knowledge. Most of her records were in hand written notes that were being deciphered, but the work wouldn’t wait. Poor old Mother Earth was bursting at the seams with humanity. It had to go some place, and quick. So, they sloshed ahead. The fields built up as the speed increased.
The jump out to Alpha Centaur had taken ninety-one hours. Beta Four was much farther, and the Dr. said she had improved the fields. This jump had to be made by the seat of the pants. John would sit on the controls as long as he could then rest.
“FTL accomplished.” The little ship’s computer announced. The fields were still building at an alarming rate. John worried that they wouldn’t stop, just keep building, gaining speed, and he would go to the ends of the galaxy.
“Optimum velocity reached field density optimum.”
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