And now he waits again the coming of the eagle.
Demo began his hike to the Edge of the World, that region where
juts the great mountain upward to the sky.
He carried with him dried venison. No bread had he. Mankind's
fires were no more. Raw fruit and vegetables. Sun dried meat and
fish.
At home his Mother sat before the stove, her frustration plain
on her red face. Without fire she could not cook. Without fire
the night became ever dark, and days were too short.
Prometheus must be freed!
"These boltcutters will handle any chains you'll run into,
young man. Well tempered metal, endorsed by Vulcan when he
started this franchise. His personal guarantee on every one
sold. Money back, no questions asked, if you aren't satisfied.
Now, what more could you ask?" The salesman was solicitous and
persistent.
Finally Demo nodded, paid the asking price, and added the
boltcutter to his pouch of goodies.
He had chanced on the Vulcan Franchised Technology hardware
store while passing through the village. Fortunately it carried
the type of equipment he required.
"And keep in mind, with the extinguished fires, there'll be no
more of these produced. It'll become a collector's item, worth
much more than the original cost. You are getting a bargain!"
The sight of the giant, some scars still open and bleeding,
brought tears to Demo's eyes. Quickly he climbed upward, reached
the cliff to which Prometheus was pinned.
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