Chapter 1

I had never felt so alone.

I was on Earth, but that didn’t mean much; a planet is huge to a man on foot. Based on the vegetation I was seeing, I could be anywhere in the temperate-to-subtropical zones. The Futurist said he transplanted his ‘specimens’ to North America; that helped a little, but even so, that put me somewhere in a region measuring thousands of square miles.

I was not well equipped for survival, wherever I was. I had no shelter, no food, and I was wearing what the Futurist had provided. I also had a knife and an oversized hatchet. Other than that, I had a brain with real memories and some that had been implanted. I was young, healthy, and fit. It was enough; it would have to be.

The time appeared to be late morning, judging by the sun. The temperature was comfortably warm, the air humid, and the sky was partly cloudy. A faint breeze stirred the leaves. Sinking down until my head was just above the bushes, I examined my surroundings.

The small clearing surrounding me was surrounded by trees, mixed hardwoods mostly. Low bushes and berry vines grew near the edge of the clearing. Any feeling of safety gained from hiding in the bushes was an illusion.

Crouching to remain concealed, I moved upwind. Only faint forest sounds were detectable. Leaves rustled in the breeze. I picked out the faint sounds made by insects or birds, and something, far off, made a chattering noise. I stopped by a tree at the edge of the clearing long enough to gather whatever information was available, then moved farther into the forest.

None of the animals of this time had reason to be wary of humans. Darwin’s principle, survival of the fittest, controlled my life now. I was prey, not predator. Even rabbits were better equipped to survive, because they had better hearing, greater speed, more agility. I had a better brain, but at the moment that didn’t fill me with confidence.

My immediate needs were water, food, and shelter. As soon as those were satisfied, I would need fire and better weapons. Tools, another necessity, could wait, but providing for those needs required that I be cautious. I was no match for the bears, cats, or wolves that preyed on the giant animals of the late ice age. Carnivores included the huge short-faced bear, as well as the grizzly of my timeline, plus saber-toothed cats, lions and wolves. This truly was a world where only the fittest survived, Darwin’s World. I grinned; the Futurist had called his planet Earth Prime, now my Earth had a name too.

Water would be found downhill, so I eased away from my concealed position and moved cautiously down the slight slope. Streams would be my water source here; springs, which probably provided better water with fewer parasites, were not commonly found in this type of southern lowland forest. Moving air would carry my scent, so I watched the breeze’s direction. If a predator was downwind, I could expect him to follow his nose toward me. For my food needs, I would be a scavenger when possible and a grazer on berries, nuts, and vegetation until I could make traps and weapons. To start with, I needed a club, a spear, and strings. The club could be a simple piece of thick, heavy wood and the spear would be crude because I needed something now and I couldn’t take the time to make a better one. The strings would be used for traps and snares. They could also be woven into bags for carrying things. With traps and a spear to kill what I caught, I would become hunter as well as hunted.

I couldn’t chance losing my knife or hatchet! I would reserve them for close-in use only and until I got better armament, my only options for avoiding danger were hiding, climbing, or running. The idea of hunting, of killing even a deer, was laughable; sneak up on him and chop him with my axe? Stick him with my knife? More likely, the critter would stomp me into a bloody paste! Some bears could climb trees, but I could climb higher and farther out onto limbs that wouldn’t support the animal’s weight. So trees were my immediate refuge if I encountered a predator.

I soon spotted a sapling, tall, straight, and a little thinner than my wrist. The axe made short work of cutting through the trunk and trimming the top to length. A few additional chops left a sharp point at the thicker end and I had my first spear. Unlike the knife or axe, I could use the spear while remaining out of the animal’s reach, yet still be able to inflict lethal wounds.

There was a small stream ahead, but water sources are dangerous; predators drink from them, and often remain nearby to ambush prey. Nervous, I drank quickly by scooping water in a cupped hand, and even while drinking I remained aware of trees I could climb in a hurry.

A large tree stood thirty yards ahead of me, smooth of bark and with low, spreading branches. Fruit hung high in the canopy, though there was none on the lower limbs. Had something eaten the low-hanging fruit? The lack meant that the upper ones were probably edible.

Climbing the tree was awkward, but I wasn’t going to leave my spear! Such a simple thing, but already I felt comforted by having it. If nothing else, I could use it to discourage any pursuit.

The fruits were some kind of fig, smaller than the ones I’d eaten during my previous life but they tasted better. Color told me which ones were ripe; green meant not-ripe, which also meant not tasty. My first attempt to eat an unripe fig left my lips puckered!

The tree divided into two main branches midway up the trunk. One of the two, about eighteen inches in diameter, had a smaller but substantial limb extending to the right, and another a few inches farther on that projected to the left. I chopped thinner limbs of the necessary length and wove them through the two branches, making a sturdy platform where I could sit while working. It would also serve for sleeping. The platform was not particularly comfortable, but at least nothing was going to approach unseen.

I sat down and began working on my spear. Trimming the shaft, I shaved away bark and some of the wood underneath, judging progress by eye. Half an hour later it was done; the finished spear was slightly longer than six feet, tapered, but less so than it had been when I cut the sapling. It was crude; there was no other word for that first spear, but it was still better than nothing.

The forest around me wasn’t true jungle, but the leaves of the plants beneath the main canopy were large. I could use them in a number of ways, including toilet wipes. Such would be necessary soon, because the figs had left me with an urgent need. I added the lesson to my memories; beware of eating too much fruit, and especially unripe fruit!

I climbed down, did what was necessary, and used some of the leaves to clean myself. I gathered handfuls of others before climbing back to my platform ‘home’. I used a chopped off branch for a hammer and another limb for a work surface, beating more-or-less gently on the leaves until the long fibers separated from the matrix. I extracted as many as possible, then dumped the remaining material on my platform, making it smoother and more comfortable for sleeping. I was already tired, but that would have to wait.

With enough fibers on hand, I began making string. The result was almost as thick as my little finger, fuzzy where I had spliced in fibers, yet strong.

I woke up hungry, but wary of eating more figs. They had not given me diarrhea, but I was certainly very loose! Still, the green figs had a kind of milky, sticky sap that I would use for sticking things together, so the experience wasn’t a total failure. I had a number of projects in mind and glue would be helpful.

Back at the tiny stream, I drank and examined the bottom carefully. A large rock near the edge looked promising, so I turned it over and grabbed a crayfish before he could scuttle backwards to deeper water. He managed to snap a pincer closed on my finger, but I repaid his impertinence by eating him raw. There were also insect nymphs in the leaf litter on the bottom and I ate those too. I was too hungry to be fussy.

Moving upstream, I crept around a small bend in the stream and found a small turtle sunning itself on a half-sunken tree trunk. The animal would provide a crude pot as well as a meal if I could catch it. His head projected from the shell and I could see no way of getting closer without him spotting me. I swung my spear shaft, knocking him onto the land, and grabbed him as he scrabbled to turn himself upright. A quick swipe with my knife ended that, and I tossed the head into the water. I wasn’t desperate enough—yet—to eat it myself, and leaving it where it was would attract a land predator. Water predators were welcome to it!