ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dr. George H. Elder has a Ph.D. from Penn State in Speech Communication and a Masters Degree in nonfiction Writing from UNH. He also has a very eclectic work and personal history. He has been a college teacher, custodian, upper-level scholar, drug addict, weight lifting coach, bouncer, and much more. He has authored numerous articles in the popular press and even a scientific text book that examines the neuropsychological basis of human communication. He has also addressed subjects such as philosophy, free speech, weight training, drug use, nutrient effects, street life, and a wide range of other issues.
His varied life experiences and education give him a unique and interesting perspective, and he often weaves philosophical insights and pathos into his texts. His books are action-oriented, but they do not have simplistic plots wherein good vs. evil or some other hackneyed approach is used. Instead, Elder employs plot shifts that allow the characters and readers to question the relationships we often take for granted. For example, a hero may do great wrongs while a species once perceived as malicious can be revealed to be honorable and wise. This offers refreshing and exciting perspectives for readers as they delve into Elder’s texts, for one never knows what to expect.
SYNOPSIS
Child of Destiny (The Genesis Continuum trilogy #1)
by Dr. George H. Elder
The universe is nearing its inevitable end, everything is being rapidly
devoured. The last hope of a dying universe is to awaken the Seeker, a
legendary metaphysical being known only through ancient tales. The Seeker has
the capacity to link the entire universe; they alone may be able to spark the
rebirth of the universe.
Many of those that
remain desperately want existence to continue. As the remaining races struggle
to survive and fight over saving existence, lofty ideals give way to brutal
pragmatism. Missions are sent out in search of the Seeker. One such mission
encounters Kara an outcast noblewoman of the Labateen, a Stone-Age warrior culture.
Kara is well versed in the Seeker’s litany, beyond what would be considered
coincidence –to Kara the litany is simply the ways of God. Will Kara be able to
help locate the Seeker?
Those who wish the
universe to end in disorder, with no more than a whimper are not willing to sit
by as others race to alter the end universe. As these opposing forces mount
their defenses, racing to see their goals are achieved one question stands out…
Is Kara the key?
EXCERPT
Child of Destiny (The Genesis Continuum trilogy
#1) by Dr. George H. Elder
Edited by Julie Tryboski
& Illustrated by Randall Drew
THE ANCIENTS BELIEVED THE PURPOSE OF LIFE IS TO
EVOLVE SPECIES THAT CAN PERPETUATE THE POSSIBILITY OF CONTINUED EXISTANCE
THROUGH THEIR THOUGHTS AND DEEDS — WITH THOUGHT BEING A SEMINAL POWER THAT CAN
OVERCOME THE DARK FORCES THAT DRIVE ALL THAT IS TOWARD NOTHINGNESS (“NOTLOH THE
OLDER” OF HARKAD PRIME).
CHAPTER 1:
ISHTAR’S CHILD
Kara had worked
tirelessly piling heavy boulders around her hillside cave’s entrance, leaving a
thistle-covered opening on the mound’s top that was barely wide enough for her
to squeeze through. Over the years, successive layers of soil and jagged rocks
were heaped on the boulders, and the humble shelter could now resist the
fiercest storm and harshest winter. Long razor grass, thorny briars, and shrubs
flourished on the stout construction, providing Kara’s home with a camouflaged
barrier that served well against both four- and two-legged predators. The only
drawbacks were meager lighting, invading spiders and centipedes, and the poor
ventilation provided by the narrow entrance. Yet these were relatively small
prices to pay for security. Moreover, the shelter was adjacent to a spring-fed
stream that froze for only part of the winter. Of course, there was a constant
need to collect firewood, gather fruits, nuts, and berries, and hunt, but Kara
was proficient in these arts. She had to be, for such is an outcast’s lot.
She sat cross-legged on
the cave’s floor, bathed in a shaft of sunlight that poured through the
entrance. The flint tip of her spear needed sharpening, and she deftly chipped
away tiny flecks of stone with a hard rock. Kara’s father had taught her the
ancient art of blade-making, not that Torok ever envisioned his daughter would
depend on such a skill to sustain a solitary existence. No, he had felt she was
destined for great things within the tribe, which was only appropriate for the
child of a Labateen chieftain such as Torok. And Kara grew to be a most unusual
girl, a precocious child who tagged along behind hunting parties and played
violent war games with the tribe’s boys.
By her fifth season
Kara’s deftly thrown spear was regularly taking down prey that was nearly as
large as she, all of which were proudly dragged back to the great cave. She
even learned the old storyteller’s sacred litanies, repeating without error the
lengthy and complex tales to the delight of family and friends. Torok was proud
of Kara’s intelligence, strength, and courage, and considered her an ideal
daughter. Never a man of many words, he once told her, “Blood of my blood, you
are a very special child. God has blessed you in many ways and you make my
heart proud.” Kara basked in the warmth of his approving smile, and found
confidence in the tribe’s universal acknowledgment of her rare talents.
Yet neither Torok nor
Kara knew about the awful mark she bore high on her scalp, the one her mother
had worked tirelessly to conceal since Kara’s birth. The Labateen were the true
Children of God, and only the most perfect in form could be accepted into the
tribe. And to all appearances Kara’s long, thick, red hair, green eyes, hazel
skin, and lithe athletic body were ideal, the quintessential elements of a
Labateen woman. Indeed, all was perfect, except for a dark brown birthmark that
hid underneath a luxurious mane of hair.
Leah, her mother, was
horrified when she first saw the blight, although there was no one to share her
shock in the isolated birthing cave. Her labor was long and difficult, and
there were times Leah thought death would be a welcome reprieve. And a lonely,
painful demise for mother and child was the inevitable penalty for a failed
childbirth. This most sacred process was overseen only by God –- and God alone
would dictate if both mother and child survived. But survival was only the
first step, for then came the mother’s responsibility of ensuring that the
child’s body was perfect in all ways. This was God’s test of a mother’s will to
abide by the sacred laws that guided the Labateen for countless generations.
These were the same laws Torok was sworn to uphold as the tribe’s Dorma, and
thus Leah felt particularly driven to follow the ancient codes.
The birthmark’s
grotesquery compelled Leah to contemplate bashing Kara’s tiny head against the
jagged walls of the birthing cave, the floor of which was richly littered with
tiny bony reminders of Labateen mother who had done their duty. Every Labateen
woman knew that allowing an unfit or marked child to live would introduce
impurity into what were God’s chosen people. The only right and merciful thing
was to end such a star-crossed life swiftly. Leah roughly grabbed her writhing
daughter, who still wore the blood and slippery wetness of a new life. She
stared into the infant’s eyes, and suddenly her will to follow the old ways
evaporated. Perhaps it was the long torment of giving birth, or maybe it was
the blood loss, but Leah felt that God was guiding her thoughts and deeds.
‘Yes, God must want this infant to live,’ she thought, ‘And to live for a
divine purpose.’
Leah deftly severed the
umbilical cord with an obsidian blade and suckled the crying infant. With every
passing moment the bond between mother and child grew stronger, as did Leah’s
conviction that she was doing God’s work. But Leah’s convictions were the stuff
of sacrilege, and that would lead to a dreadful fate for any Labateen. However,
it was customary for a new mother to remain away from the tribe for ten suns
after giving birth, which was yet another trial to help ensure that only the
most able would walk amongst the Labateen. Leah took the time to make dyes from
nearby plants and berries, being well versed in the art of marking. Indeed, as
the daughter of an Elder and wife of the tribe’s Dorma, Leah was expected to be
an exemplary marker and healer.
She carefully dyed her
infant’s head, hands, and feet deep black, all signs that the child was one
with God’s earth by thought and deed. She repeated the procedure over the
coming days until the rich dyes were absorbed by Kara’s skin, hiding any sign
of the blemish. When the day came to rejoin the tribe, friends and relatives
saw the baby’s markings and she was quickly dubbed “Kara,” meaning, “Companion
of God.” Many in the tribe thought it odd that Leah didn’t change Kara’s
markings as the child matured, but few dared question a Labateen aristocrat.
The query might be seen as an insult, and only blood could assuage such folly.
The ploy served well in giving Leah’s daughter time to grow a thick and
luxurious mane of dark red locks that hid the sin, at least until the age of
ascension.
The spear’s tip was
nearly ready, and Kara examined it in detail. A good spear and sharp knife were
as essential as stealth, speed, and strength when hunting. Yet the hunt had
gone poorly for seven suns, and Kara did not know why. Normally, late spring
provided ample game, although one had to be ever watchful for the swift
grenlobs that followed the migratory herds. The large, bipedal reptiles were
armed with sickle-shaped claws and serrated teeth that turned many hunters into
prey. However, a hunting party of Labateen was more than a match for any
animal. Even a small party could bring down a tork, a hulking, wooly,
four-legged brute with a nasal horn taller than a man. Yet tribal lore aptly
described a lone hunter as the personification of a “sad thing,” and Kara was
reduced to stalking relatively small rodents and marsupials, with an occasional
fish supplementing a meager vegetarian diet.
She preferred hunting in
the nude. But it was a chilly morning, so Kara donned a pair of well-worn
moccasins and the long rawhide tunic her mother once wore. Although
much-patched, the tunic was one of Kara’s prized keepsakes, and as she put it
on thoughts of that terrible day wafted anew. The Right of Ascension takes
place during the 14th springtime of every Labateen’s life, and the ritual is
overseen by the tribe’s Elders. For women, Ascension entails having the head
shaved with dull blades, being tattooed with sacred symbols, and silently
enduring purification via the excruciatingly slow application of steaming hot
water to the clitoris. The unremitting pain often caused visions, and these
were a blessing from God if their meaning could be divined.
