Professor Tragnor grinned as he watched the Neanderthal strip a branch from a tree down to a spear in mere minutes using a rock blade. He became positively giddy when he realized the proto-man was then going to jam the rock blade into the top of the spear to turn it into a more lethal weapon.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as the hominid on the screen, who was wholely unaware of our existence, tied the rock into his stick with raw hide. As a scientist I was just as giddy as Tragnor when I got my research position at the Centre for Early Human Studies (or as Kostki called it, Cromagnon Park), but as a human I grew more and more to despise the place.
"Absolutely incredible, isn't it Cassandra?" Tragnor said, only peeling his eyes off of the screen for a split second to verify I was as excited as he was.
I nodded enthusiastically and scribbled some notes.
"I'm beginning to think the Neanderthal may have abilities of prehension that surpass our own!"
I murmured in agreement. 'The Neanderthal', as Tragnor called him, was 'Steve' to most of the rest of the researchers.
We continued watching Steve for another 20 minutes as he tied an intricate knot on his spear then held it aloft, evidently to get a feel for the balance of his new weapon. Apparently satisfied he vocalized to his tribemates and, before meandering back into the woods, cast his eyes skyward.
I suddenly felt as though I was naked, a cold sweat breaking over me. Unconsciously I held my clipboard to my chest as if you shield myself.
"Just incredible... what do you make of that last look to the sky? Do you think he was maybe giving thanks? That group A96 is... developing religious beliefs?!"
When I did not reply, Tragnor turned to me. His expression was one of a child seeking affirmation of a silly idea.
"I, uh, yes, I think it is possible."
Tragnor, having noticed my queer state, misinterpreted it as doubt. Now he had a sour look on his face.
"Probably not. Forget it."
The professor handed me his notes. "Review the footage and transcribe timestamps. I want this typed up for tomorrow morning."
Tragnor left and I was alone. Setting down the notes, I pulled my chair up to the console controls and skimmed back to the moment when Steve looked to the sky.
I could feel more sweat dampening my palms as I worked. Somehow I knew exactly what I would find, despite knowing it should not be possible.
Having found the moment, I froze the frame and zoomed it as far as I could until Steve's head was very clear. And then I began to move forward, one frame at a time.
Slowly Steve swung his head skyward, and then it happened: Steve was looking directly at me... and he was angry.
I gasped, turned off the screen, and rolled my chair back. It was not possible... and even if it was, how did Tragnor miss it?
YOU ARE READING
365
Short StoryA bizarre collection of short stories inspired by a single word (the title of each chapter). Lengths can vary and most are dark, but some are humorous with a little romance, and slice-of-life sprinkled in (genre in title).
