Amnesia

Freeway stomped on the carcass with her steel-toed boot. Dry bones crunched and shattered, sending a spray of fine dust dancing up into the thin rays of sunlight that broke through the cracked ceiling.

“Stop it!” Amnesia hissed. She grabbed Freeway’s arm and tugged hard. “Let’s go. We’re already risking a severe Reckoning it we don’t tell the General immediately.”

But always the stronger one, Freeway twisted out of her grasp in one fluid motion and sent her sprawling into the dirt. “I’m not done yet.”

Amnesia sighed and picked herself up. Now her last clean pair of pants was covered in fine desert dust, and no amount of beating them with a broom would help. Water was scarce out here, so washing – except for a weekly face scrub before Sunday services – was strictly forbidden.

She couldn’t blame Freeway. The mummified corpses that lay scattered around them was the biggest find in recent history, one that could blow both religious beliefs and political ideologies all to hell. It struck her that Freeway might be a little jealous that an unpublished anthropologist like herself had literally fallen through the roof of an ancient ruin, leading to a discovery that would catapult her to fame and fortune.

Taking her place beside Freeway, Amnesia gazed down at the huddled carcasses with wonder. Sensing Freeway was about to kick another one, she gently placed her arm on hers. “Please don’t.”

“Amnesia, they’re dead. It’s not like they can feel anything.”

“I know,” Amnesia shrugged. “It’s just…

Freeway jerked her arm away. "Just what? That some conspiracy theorists think we’re descended from them? That these are our ancestors?”

Before she could respond, Freeway dug her nails deep into Amnesia's arm. “How many times have I told you to shut the fuck up about that?”

Amnesia fought the urge to cry out, and Freeway finally relented. She sat on a nearby rock and took a long, slow swallow from her water tube, letting the lukewarm gel slide down her throat. The factories didn’t make good water gel like they used to.

Her thirst quenched, Freeway turned her attention back to Amnesia. “Seriously, you have got to stop saying shit like that. Not just because people will talk – don’t think they’re not already – but it’s incredibly offensive. I mean, look at these things!” She waved her hands at the creatures, as if fanning away a foul odor.

Amnesia shoved her hands in her pockets, her left hand wrapping around the small heart-shaped locket she always hid there.

“You’re so stubborn,” Freeway sighed. “Such a little zealot. How can you dismiss science?”

Freeway squatted down and picked up a small stick. She poked at the head on the nearest creature, as it looked up at her with vacant eyes. “I mean, look at the browbone on this thing. Look at the fucking size of the jawbone. The stature. The muscle mass. The hair, all over its body.”

Amnesia stared straight ahead.

“You’re an idiot,” Freeway sighed. She threw the defiled stick into a corner, as if she might catch something from it.

“These were primitive beasts, Amnesia. Only crackpots think they were capable of rational thought and emotions. To say we descended from something so base…”

Amnesia took a step backwards before replying, staying out of Freeway’s painful reach. “But look at the small ones here with them. There were offspring here, with the adults. It’s proof they cared for their young!”

“Or ate them,” Freeway rebutted. She picked up her pack. “No time to argue anymore. Let’s go.”

“Finally!” Amnesia grabbed her pack and began to follow. “We’ll leave the ladder at the top to mark the spot. The General and the others will want to...”

“No. We can’t tell anybody about this. Not yet.”

“What? That’s crazy! I could already lose my job for not reporting this to immediately. I could lose my life! And now that you’ve seen it, you could, too!”

Amnesia tried to push past, but Freeway restrained her easily. “Stop struggling and listen to me.”

Amnesia kicked her steel-toed boot into Freeway’s shin. “Why are you being so stupid? I took a huge risk to show you this!”

“Think bigger, Amnesia. Sometimes it’s not wise to reveal the secrets that some believe are best not told.”

Amnesia stared at her. “What exactly are you proposing?”

Freeway lifted her long black hair off of her neck. “Maybe we could explore a little more on our own. And then, if necessary…modify the results.”

“You want us to rearrange a scientific excavation so that people won’t have to question their beliefs?”

“It’s the safest thing to do.”

“But it’s a lie!”

“It’s a lie that can stop a new civil war, and forced famines and torture and burned cities! Weren’t you paying attention during The One History? Don’t you remember what happened, Amnesia?”

Amnesia’s stomach churned with hunger and heat. Maybe it was best to play along for now. “Okay, let’s think on it for a few hours.”

Freeway turned to the ladder and began climbing. “Great. You’d better get ready for the ceremony. It’s formal and you look a wreck.”

* * * * *

By the time Amnesia changed clothes and brushed the desert dust out of her hair, she was a half-hour late.

“Better hurry,” said Reboot, the security guard, holding the door open. “Food’s almost gone.”

The ceremony was in one of the deeper excavation pits, away from the searing rays of the sun. Sucking back a glass of gelled champagne and nibbling on a cracker with kow cheese, Amnesia scanned the crowd, catching glimpses of Freeway as she flitted first to one group of people and then interchanged to another.

Everyone loved being around Freeway. Hearing her talk about Kolguys starting a war in Zyphony and the Sliphites harvesting endangered holecats in Raloon made them feel better, their own sins decidedly insignificant by comparison.

Amnesia’s eyes stopped when she spotted the stubbly black crewcut of General Manhowser’s large head, over by the barbecue pit, barking out orders and chowing down on a juicy kow burger, jowls dripping with fat.

Cooked meat.

Amnesia’s mouth watered at the aroma wafting towards her, having not tasted meat since she was a child. But she couldn’t risk approaching the barbecue. If the General struck up a conversation, she would no doubt give something away or impulsively blurt out her entire secret.

“Amnesia.” An unfamiliar voice. Darn it. Now someone was reading her name tag. “What does Amnesia mean?”

Asking the meaning of someone’s name had been a conversation starter for generations, ever since it became popular to name children with words from the ancient languages.

“It means, ‘always happy’,” Amnesia explained politely. “It has origins similar to the names Ignorance and Bliss.”

This didn’t satisfy the stranger. The long nose leaned toward the nametag pinned just above her breast. “Isn’t Amnesia usually spelled with an h?”

Amnesia stepped back from the intrusive nose. “My parents preferred the traditional spelling.”

Thankfully, the General interrupted.

“Please take your seats!” The General’s voice boomed. No microphone was necessary. “Make your way to the auditorium.”

Amnesia thrust a curt smile at Long Nose and scurried to the auditorium, her eyes scanning the cavernous room for Freeway.

“Fellow archeologists, esteemed anthropologists, honored guests, and friends of science,” the General began. “We've all gathered at this excavation site for the same reason -- to finalize once and for the mystery that has plagued us for centuries: What happened to mankind?”

Amnesia watched as the sea of heads bobbed up and down.

“There have been many theories. Some say Earth was struck by a meteorite. Others say there was a nuclear war. Or a fatal virus, or a world-wide famine, or just their inferior biological need for more calories.”

Groups of heads nodded enthusiastically at the explanation they favored most.

“And then, there are those who think the mass extinction never occurred at all. That we are descendants of mankind.” The General paused for the laughter that, sure enough, rolled through the room on a resounding wave.

Amnesia scanned the room for Freeway once more. She was definitely not in the room. A feeling of dread settled into her stomach.

The audience clapped loudly at something the General said, and Amnesia saw her chance. “Oh, crap. I’m feeling nauseated from the heat,” she said to her neighbor. “Would you excuse me, please?” Her neighbor smiled sympathetically and stood slightly to allow Amnesia pass her into the aisle. Heart thudding, Amnesia hurried up the steps. Just before she reached the exit, she stole a glance back at the stage. Still talking, the General’s hard eyes were squarely upon her. Did everyone already know? She broke into a run.

Reaching the empty lobby, she grabbed some gelled water off a serving tray. Behind the hostess table, in the emergency cabinet, she found rope, a flashlight and a pack to carry everything. As the crowd in the auditorium broke into one final booming round of applause, she strode quickly outside into the searing sunlight and headed toward the hidden ruin.

By the time she reached the shaft, Amnesia was drenched in sweat. The ladder wasn’t where she’d left it. She could see it down below, lying on the floor of the cavern. Freeway had outsmarted her. But not for long.

Tying the rope to a large boulder nearby, she shimmied down into the hole. The bodies remained where they’d been that morning, their secrets locked in wide-open eyes that stared unseeingly into eternity.

Amnesia plunged into the tunnel at the far end of the room. The flashlight beam bounced left and right as she jogged down the passageway. She reached into her pocket and gripped the heart-shaped locket for extra courage. Her mind drifted back to sitting on her great-grandmother’s knee and listening to stories of long ago. For six-year-old Amnesia, it was fascinating to think that once upon a time, water had covered two-thirds of the Earth, and when Gran-Gran was a very small child, she had watched water fall from the sky. “It was only for a minute, but I’ll never forget, Amnesia. Drops of water falling from the sky, the same as teardrops fall from your cheek.”

Of course, other scientists had long proven Gran-Gran's silly story to be impossible: there simply wasn’t enough hydrogen or oxygen molecules in Earth’s environment to create that much water.

Gran-Gran and the other elders were the last of their kind, their folklore and ancient remedies dying off bit by bit with each one. The last time Amnesia saw Gran-Gran alive, Gran-Gran had shown her the heart-shaped locket.

"This was given to me by my own great-grandmother," Gran-Gran smiled. She opened the locket to show Amnesia two photos inside. "And that is a picture of her great grandmother..."

Amnesia looked carefully at the second photo. "Is that really...?"

Gran-Gran had closed the locket and pressed it into her hand before she could finish. "Yes," she nodded. "Never forget, Amnesia, where you came from."

The tunnel opened up, and she stepped into a courtyard. There were gardens with vegetables growing. Outside. Not in a factory. And in the middle of the stone patio there shot a white, moving plume, its coolness caressing her hot cheeks even from where she stood.

Mesmerized, Amnesia moved towards the welcoming spray, her search for Freeway forgotten.

“Stop where you are.”

The voice was unlike any Amnesia had heard before. Slightly raspy. Heavy. She slowly turned her head toward the sound to see just who, or what, was speaking.

He wasn't alone. Freeway and a few others stood by him.

Amnesia gripped her locket harder. Mankind.

Freeway said. "Now that you know, you can’t go back. And we have to leave, now."

Gran-Gran had been right. A long-ago story about a sheep named Dolly was where the science began. But cloning through the maternal line didn't mean the end of mankind after all.

"I'm okay with that." Amnesia smiled.