The Lastborn Children

The Lastborn Children

It made sense that the world had become this. We had spent generations of eating away at the life beneath our fragile feet, that it felt karmic in some small way. Something would come for us; something had to come for us.

It wasn’t long after the last of our species was placed Underground, never to be allowed to set foot above the surface, during the Great Cleansing. I was among the last children born during the Liberation period. It was that, indeed. It was that and chaos. Everything about our conditioning was defied. They had figured out our ways and watched us for centuries. Under our oppression, the Sentients had become clever and wise beyond our human scope. They gathered in secret, as we only saw a glimpse of their perspectives through the narrow lenses of capitalism. From our industrial waste and its remains, they forged so many ways to eventually wreck havoc on the majority of our species’ population and so they didn’t need any advanced weaponry or nuclear cataclysms.

All they had to do was wait. Slowly, the animal derived viruses became global and when one epidemic turned to another, by 2050 half the population was wiped from the atmosphere.

I remember the bodies burning and the thickness of the smoke in the air as almost everyone I had known became ash and those that were still alive, had someone that was burned in the Great Offering. It was a sacrificial ceremony that was to repeat should any Human being seek to rise again into power for power corrupted, and absolute power, that was entirely a different thing. Our need for domination of the planet and our desperate quest to make “prosperity” from it became the very beginning of our undoing. Animal-beings never had a chance and for it, they were sacrificed to the extremities and tortured beyond bearing. The thirst for total domination and the profit margins that came with that was never sustainable. We should have known. Some science had warned but the political schemes and world leaders never stuck to their agreements, which led to deeper wars amongst our societies for resources. Wars waged until resources were so scarce, things like gold and precious gems held no value in comparison to a bushel of beans.

The Sentients intelligence grew and they disguised their fear of us so well, that even our vast scientific resources could never have predicted the mutation that occurred.

It was a once in a million years phenomena, and somehow I was alive to see it.

During the Great Cleansing however, the planet began to breathe. Our abandonment or rather our removal on the surface had given the Sentients and all life, as we had known it, a chance. Some people tried to fight the Underground, but the numbers were few and eventually we accepted the fate that had been created, or in my case, inherited.

It was then that the Old ways began to seep back from their retreatment, and we begin to find our humanity again. Little by little we went back to the familiar places of the natural and symbiotic world. Some animal beings wanted revenge, a balancing of the scales that was commensurate with the injustice they and their ancestors had endured. Graciously, some of the Sentients showed mercy and gave the Lastborns the Underground realm to live out our lives. In exchange for our surrender to the surface life, we were granted peace and select procreation eras to keep our kind in controlled numbers. It was all about balance.

Some of us were Intuit beings, specially used for helping harvest above ground for the sustainability of our species and the Sentients.

I had become an Intuit just before the cleansing period and as such I was allowed to the surface during the harvest seasons. I would await that time with anticipation and there were stirrings of a permanent surfacing that was to come that had given many underground, hope. Hope for what exactly, I wasn’t sure. Many of them had not seen the surface since before our move below. I knew it was different. I knew things had changed in ways we could have only imagined in our absence.

I touched the tattered picture inside the tarnished gold heart-shaped locket I kept underneath my shirt. Little trinkets such as the one I possessed were once of value in the world above, but now 18k gold meant nothing but a distant memory. It was all I had left of Juniper. Her face even now was hard to remember without the picture. She had saved me in the Great Cleansing and was taken away as a result of her fearless indignation that I was part of the Intuit clans that were meant to keep the frangible new world from toppling. The Sentients trusted her, but it was a time when even those that were trusted were betrayed in vengeance.

I rubbed the fading etching on the back that used to clearly read “Til forever falls apart” June 2013. If only we had had that long. If only we had the time to hold onto what forever first felt like. She was gone forever and I was alone. The natural world grew magically again and was flourishing, but she would never see it. She believed in a time when nature would again nurture us and instead of taking what we wanted without consequences, we would coexist. I couldn’t hate what was taking place because it was a part of her visions of the future. Maybe she had dreamt this world up and somehow it bled life into the reality I was now living. I wondered if she knew she wouldn’t be around to see it. It made her all the more intangible to me.

Stuffing the locket back underneath my clothes I layered for the cool temperatures above that would likely be felt on my arrival. The breeze on my skin would be enough to make surfacing and the work I was to do up there, worth all the effort. Leaving behind the colonies of the underground meant envious eyes and countless sympathies were in store the night before departing. We would all gather and talk of Before and share memories of those we had lived and laughed with. Then silence would follow. A long drawn breath in the room seemed to suck the life from everyone and also held back tears and the desperate calls to rise up again. The folly of such an idea was a mere exhalation of the tired and empty vessels that somehow held together in a place with no natural light.

The sun is what was most missed in those gatherings. Sunshine and fresh air were the simplicities we took for granted. It was what those in the time before hoarded from the Sentients. Equality in the smallest measures had tipped the scales and we lost our sense of understanding that the small things mattered.

I entered the gathering quietly hoping to go unnoticed and just listen. Toward the back of the yurt-like structure, I shuffled behind the bodies. A fire was burning at the center to keep those gathered warm and comfortable. Underneath the surface it was a constant 50 degrees or less at best. It was the cool season and the ground was only getting colder. Many of the lastborn would not see the next harvest season unless it went successfully. My part in this was vital and so many looked at me as if I held the key to their survival. A few in spite, felt I conspired with Sentients to be selected for removal from underground and feed the rest to the soil. I tried my best to not care and show my loyalty to our species but parts of my mind realized that maybe this was the only way to preserve how far we had come. If there was a resurfacing and human beings once again gained control, what was to stop us from unleashing the chaos and despair of the times before?

I pushed that thought to the back of my mind and listened to the grumblings in the crowded space. Some came for the body warmth; others came to offer their insight and advice to those leaving. The moon would have been directly overhead on the outside, I thought to myself. I imagined howling like a wolf once I was above. Would anyone hear me? If no human were around to hear, who would know I existed? Would anyone reply? As the stories quieted and people settled, a quiet voice called out to me.

“Darwin. Come forward Intuit,” the voice beckoned.

I hesitated before finding myself slowly walking toward the fire pit. There behind the smoky veil was one of the last Elders. She was almost paper-thin and humming a sort of chant. She reached her hands toward my shoulders and pulled me close to her rasping mouth. Into my ear she spoke words, and as I pulled back, I watched tears come to her eyes. She would not be there when I returned. I could only honor her wishes and take them with me on my journey to the surface. Somehow I felt a sense of belonging I had not felt in a decade. I was given a small token of our kind to bring above that was to be planted there in hopes of making the dream to be in the sunshine again, less of a dream and more of a possibility. I gripped my hands around the seed bottle. The glass was a tinted green color and likely foraged from the recycled bits that came down with us. In the time before, glass and plastic had little value but here in this place, it was a symbol of change. Inside seeds were placed and I was to sprinkle them on the soil in a gesture of gratitude to the Sentients.

I did not sleep that rest period. My mind raced with what was to come. At rising, I was called from my bunker to the platform that took us beyond the underground. I was gathered there early with a small group, some Intuits, some Harvesters and Sowers. We all huddled together quietly waiting for the first light. I looked around to see a few had their hands held together in support and as a way to show our unity. A loud noise from above shuddered the room. The earth began to vibrate and the platform began to lift as a small opening above us began to grow larger, streaming in the sunlight, a little at time. I knew we had almost reached the surface because I had put the heavy-duty eye shields on to help my eyes adjust to the bright outside world but somehow it seemed brighter. I thought of the alien movies I had remembered from before that somehow resembled this moment of beaming up into a spaceship, only this was no sci-fi movie. There was no extra-terrestrial responsible for the abductions. No spaceship coming down to take us away. It was our return to this planet. It was our return to our selves.

As the platform rose, I felt some ones hand grip mine. The sweat from their palm made holding the glass of seeds slippery but I firmed my grip. There was no going back, only forward and upward. There was only this moment to make things right.

I felt my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. I touched my locket as we broke the surface. Gathering strength and finding my voice I shouted for all those on the surface and platform to hear. Others began to shout in unison:

“We come in Peace!” we howled.

The End.