The Art Support Industry
The land division took less than half a day.
Three elders climbed to the top of the hill and pointed in different directions with their fingers. That was it. In reality, it was already pointing to the animals each had settled into their own groups.
We wanted the water's edge, the Rhinoceros tribe wanted the thorny, dense southern gravel field, and the Mammoth tribe wanted the northern oak ridge.
None of it overlapped.
The grandmother from the Rhinoceros tribe laughed at the sight.
"The animals divided the land first."
That's right. Humans just gave names to the land the animals had already divided.
Our share was the eastern side of the hill, a swamp with three springs.
Honestly, at first, I thought we had been taken in. Mosquitoes, feet sinking into the muck, and a stinking ground. In real estate terms, it was the worst.
But to the kids here, water was life itself.
For the first three days, we dug a pond.
No, more accurately, Umba dug it. I just tossed pebbles beside him. Because the big guy pushed the mud away with his belly, in half a day we had a pond deep enough for nine to fit and still have room.
It was a hippopotamus.
A hairy hippopotamus.
That evening, all nine of them took a bath. Only their nostrils and eyes sticking out above the water.
People sat by the pond watching it. No one said a word. Elder Mar just stood there with his feet in the water for a long time.
I felt a bit moved at the time, but that emotion lasted only a day.
From the next day, I started the mill project.
The reason was simple. I had seen that grinding a handful of wheat for an hour produced only a palmful. If twenty-eight of us ate that, an entire day would be wasted.
The plan was perfect.
Place the wheat on a flat stone, roll a round stone over it. A millstone. Done.
But when I say the result, it failed.
First, all the stones here were uneven. To make a flat surface, you'd have to grind the surface, which would require rubbing it with another stone for days.
Second, even if you managed it, wild wheat has an insanely hard husk. Grinding would break the husk, mixing the kernels with it. You'd have to pick them out again. It wasn't much different from picking by hand.
Third, the biggest problem.
No one cared.
I spent three days rubbing stones while preparing for humanity's future, but the tribe kids just passed by looking at me like "he's doing something weird again." One auntie even poked my forehead this time too.
Fuck.
If this worked, wouldn't your life change?
I glared at the wheat husk and made up my mind.
Development. Not just any development. Eventually, I'll make it.
For now, I'll put it on hold.
And that afternoon, the young ones from the Mammoth tribe came to watch.
At first, they just stood there staring. Their animals were covered in fur, while ours were bald, so they must have been curious. It probably looked like a gray mud ball floating in the water.
One of them muttered something. It was half understandable.
But the gestures were perfectly clear.
He rubbed his own body, then made a gesture like his palm was cracking, and then a gesture of jumping into the water. He came out and the palm cracked again. Jumped in again.
He repeated it about five times while laughing.
Another one joined in. He made a gesture of plucking hair from his armpit and pointed at our pond, waving his hand.
"No fur."
And finally, he grabbed his nose and made a disgusted face.
You bastard.
A few of our kids jumped up. Their hands automatically went toward their spears. I did too.
Elder Mar cleared his throat.
That single sound made everyone sit down. They sat, but no one looked toward that side. They all just stared at the ground until those guys laughed and went back to the ridge.
That continued for three days. On the third day, the kids from the Rhinoceros tribe joined too.
During those three days, I was genuinely pissed off.
The fact that our kids wouldn't lift their heads was the most infuriating part.
On the fourth morning, I sat by the pond watching Umba.
Umba was out of the water. The sun was still hot.
Red stuff was seeping out on his back. Droplets, at the nape of his neck, along his spine, and behind his ears.
Red sweat.
These people had been seeing this since birth. When they stayed out of the water for long, red stuff came out from their bodies. The spot didn't get burned by the sun and didn't fester. We even smeared it on our hands and rubbed it on wounds.
It was just like that. Like the sun rising, nothing special.
But I knew what it was.
It was in a five-minute documentary. The narrator said hippo sweat was a substance that blocked UV rays and had antibacterial properties. A natural sunscreen.
The problem was.
There was no way to explain it in words here.
No 'UV rays'. No 'bacteria'. No 'blocking'. Even the concept of 'ingredients' didn't exist.
The language to convey the truth I knew hadn't been born yet in this world.
So what now?
I stood up.
I shouted toward the ridge. Without knowing their names, I shouted first. The three over there turned around.
I called with gestures. Come here. Closer. Even closer.
They came down laughing. Probably wondering what was interesting.
I put my palm on Umba's nape and lifted it.
My palm was red.
I held it up in front of their eyes.
The smiles on the three faces vanished.
I started gesturing. Since it's not words but hands, it was fully understood, not half.
I pointed to the red on my palm. I made a gesture of scratching my forearm and then bleeding from there.
It's the same. This isn't sweat. It's blood.
They looked at each other.
I pointed to the pond. I drew with my hand Umba entering the water. Then I rubbed my palm to wipe away the red.
It stops when you enter the water.
Finally, I pointed to their arms, to my arm, and shook my head.
We don't stop even when we enter the water.
And I raised one finger and pointed underwater.
It stops only from down there.
Why?
Because this isn't their land.
I still don't know what those three understood, even though the language didn't connect. But the tallest one took a step back.
That meant he understood.
"It's not a sick one."
I said it in our language. It wasn't for them to hear. It was for our kids sitting behind me.
"It's a mistake. The thing that should come out of the water is on land, so it bleeds blood all the time it's out. That's why it comes out a few times a day."
No sound from behind.
When I turned, all the tribe members were looking at me.
Among them was Nuri.
The three Mammoth tribe members left that day without laughing.
That evening, Elder Mar called me.
"Today's words you said."
"...Yes."
"Where did you hear that?"
I couldn't answer. I couldn't say I saw it in a 21st-century documentary.
"I just made it up."
"...Yes."
Elder smiled with his two front teeth. Then he slapped the back of my head with his palm.
It hurt.
"Well done."
"...Huh?"
"But Ur, learn one thing. If you lie all at once, it smells. Do only half."
Elder pointed his chin toward the pond.
"The red stuff coming out from their bodies is true. The stopping when entering water is also true. The only reason you made it up is because of that. That's why it was accepted."
I felt a chill at that moment.
What this elder taught me now.
Not how to lie well.
But how to make stories.
Stacking a lot of facts and putting just one interpretation on top. That's how myths are made, how religions are made, how ads are made, and honestly, the way I used to write reports at my company in my previous life.
Ten thousand years ago, this elder was teaching me that.
"So, from now on, make something bigger. Stack a lot of truths and put just one thing on top."
Elder looked at the sky. That night, lightning flashed from the west. No sound, just flashes.
"Make them bow their heads in front of our things. Then our tribe won't be pushed out from here."
And on the tenth day, an incident happened.
Two of our kids and three from the Rhinoceros tribe got into a fight. Whether it was over a woman or a spot, everyone had different opinions.
No one died. It ended with two front teeth and one broken nose.
The problem was it wasn't a person.
A Rhinoceros tribe animal heard the sound and came.
It was like a wall pushing through the gravel field, with two horns lowered in front and back. Three of them stood up from our pond. The water was all pushed out.
I almost pissed myself.
The elders came running. The grandmother from the Rhinoceros tribe blocked the path of her own animal naked. Elder Mar stood by the water spreading his arms.
It took a while for the animals to calm down.
One punch from the kids and this hill was about to crumble.
That night, the elders gathered again. I was called too.
"As I said before. People fight when they're full."
The Mammoth tribe elder said.
"Then what will you give to the young ones' hands?"
The grandmother asked.
Elder Mar picked up a flat stone from the ground and placed it in front of the fire.
"If you give them spears to hold, they'll stab each other. So, let's have them hold this. Carve how great our things are on it, and set them up on the hill to show each other."
Up to here, I listened in admiration.
The problem was what came next.
"What will you bet? Have you thought?"
The grandmother asked.
"A safe place at night."
I couldn't understand. Really couldn't.
An explanation is needed.
Our tribe doesn't have a 'personal place'.
The kids are raised by the whole tribe. No one questions who nurses whom or who sleeps next to whom. At night, everyone just sticks to the animals and sleeps however.
So, there's no place for two people to be quietly.
What about going outside the tribe?
Outside is hyena territory. I learned that with my body on the way here.
In the middle of the tribe is different. At night, when the animals circle around, inside that. There's only one place on this land where neither animals nor people can enter.
"Give that to you for the whole night."
Elder Mar said.
"The one who polished the most beautiful stone from the tribe. And the person who made the most beautiful clothes."
I finally understood.
And I almost fell backward.
To the one who won the stone carving first place.
Would they give that to you?
"Stone and clothes?"
The grandmother sneered.
"You have to make hands move so they don't clench fists."
Elder Mar said.
"And that remains. Fights don't remain, but stones do."
"Who will you go in with?"
"I choose. The prize isn't a person who sits."
Elder drove in a stake.
"If you forcibly drag someone in, you'll be thrown out of the tribe. You'll know what it's like outside."
The Mammoth tribe elder laughed.
"If both prize winners choose each other?"
"Then give two days."
The three laughed.
I didn't laugh. I was calculating.
What these elders made now.
The Art Support Industry. And population policy. And security measures. A single system that solves all three at once.
To do this with national budget in my previous life, it would require three Buddhas and budget in trillions.
These elders chipped away at it with a stone in front of the campfire.
Scary as hell.
They decided on the first competition in a week.
The next morning, Elder Mar laid it out in front of the tribe.
I thought this couldn't possibly work.
At first, everyone laughed. One adult male asked openly.
"What do you do if you polish the stone nicely. Does that catch animals?"
Instead of answering, Elder Mar asked back.
"Then where will you go at night?"
The tribe became quiet.
That was it. With that one word, the laughing guys shut their mouths.
The guy whose nose was broken three days ago was the first to go down to the river. To look for stones.
That afternoon, the tribe became strange.
The hunters who went out came back carrying stones instead of animals. From the women's places, the sound of tendon pulling competitions could be heard. An elder was caught by a young man and was repeating the story of a blue stone in the upper reaches of some river ten times.
And no one fought.
Not once all day.
I felt a chill down my spine watching the scene.
The first art boom in humanity was exploding right in front of my eyes.
The motive was this.
Elder Mar sat by the pond watching the sight. I sat next to him.
"Do you know this will work?"
"I didn't know."
"...You didn't know but did it?"
"People are strange animals, Ur."
Elder scanned the tribe with his good eye.
"When they're full, they want something other than filling their stomachs. If you don't give them what they want, they'll bite each other. So, you have to make them want something and push them that way."
"...Is that all?"
"That's all."
Elder smiled with his two front teeth.
"And the stones they carved will remain even after winter. Even if we all die, they remain."
I couldn't answer that.
Because only I knew it would remain even ten thousand years later.
The next day, I deliberately passed by the leather processing area.
Nuri was sitting with a dried deer skin spread on her lap.
She had a bone needle in her mouth, using her teeth to split the tendons into thin threads. The thread was so thin that it was barely visible in the sunlight. Only this person in the tribe could split it that way.
She took the thread in her mouth and tilted her head back.
Hmm.
Wait a minute.
Here, people all go naked. I've adapted now. The bodies of others don't enter my eyes. It's just scenery. Real.
But this person is different.
My waist felt a bit stiff.
"Ur."
"...Yes."
"What are you doing."
"...I'm just passing by."
"You passed by earlier too."
"...You can pass by twice, you know."
Nuri pulled the needle out and placed it on her lap, looking at me.
"Yesterday's that. What you did to the Mammoth tribe kids."
"...Hmm."
"Is it true?"
I didn't answer.
"You asked if it's true, why don't you answer."
"...Half of it."
Nuri smiled. When she smiled, the corners of her eyes went down.
"Half is fine."
Nuri put the needle back in her mouth and mumbled while holding it.
"Do that again. When there are many people."
"...What?"
"Not in front of them. Do it in front of our kids."
Nuri put the first thread on the leather.
"Did you see the kids' faces when you said it yesterday? Until yesterday, we were the ones without fur, looking for water. But after you said that, the kids started seeing the pond differently."
I looked toward the pond. Steam was rising in the morning sun.
"I just said it because I was pissed off."
"Pissed off is the real reason."
Nuri pulled the thread.
"And Ur, let me tell you one thing."
"Hmm."
"The ones who were most surprised by that word yesterday weren't the Mammoth tribe kids."
She pointed the needle tip inside the tribe. The kids were rolling in the mud.
"Those kids. They will believe what they heard yesterday for their whole lives."
I didn't take that word seriously at the time.
I didn't know what shape it would take ten years later.
That night, I sat by the pond picking stones.
A white limestone the size of my palm. Smooth on the outside, beautifully fractured inside.
I hadn't decided what shape to carve.
No, actually, I had decided.
The shape of something long and big rising from the water. The shape of an animal that didn't exist yet in the world.
The only certainty was one thing.
It had to be the coolest.