Episode Fifty History Lesson

Z oron

"That was hundreds of years ago," Azael argues. "How dare you come to the Village, offer to help, and then begin with a lie?"

"You're part monkey, part human. You." Drixxa points to Mirron. "You're part bull, part man. You." He tips his chin toward the orc. "Your skin is green. And look at me. I was of gigantic proportions mere minutes ago, and now I'm sitting among you on this log. Is it any more fantastical that I've walked the Earth for hundreds of years?"

I toss my head, unable to keep still as I try to make sense of his words. In order to believe him, I'd have to throw away a thousand other beliefs I hold dear. If he is telling the truth, I'm not sure I want to hear it.

"Tell your story, Drixxa," Azael says. "Each of us can decide on the truth of it when you are done."

"Many of you may have seen the abandoned cities."

Eldar and I have, though we've never told another living soul. In our travels, we visited several cities. The tall, reinforced buildings crumbled over the years, a testament to how long it's been since people lived there.

The sheer enormity of their size made my head spin. It's hard to imagine how many people must have lived in the thousands of abandoned structures we saw.

"I lived in one far to the west," the male continues. "The times were different. I know what you're taught is spotty and much of the old facts were lost to the ages. We live on a round planet that has seven continents and used to contain almost two hundred countries."

I think I miss some of what he says as I picture living on a ball. My mind can't fathom it.

"Over time, the leaders of the countries put their interests over that of their people. Instead of keeping their citizens safe and housed and fed, they amassed more wealth than anyone could use in a million years. Yet it couldn't keep them safe as the planet bogged down under pollution that befouled the land and air and sea."

He pauses, seeming to reach deep into his memories.

"When it got so bad there were places where people could no longer look up and see the sun, the wealthy and powerful came up with the plan to build one hundred towers throughout the Earth. There was only room there for less than one out of a thousand, but for those who bought their way in, they would be safe, secure, and out of the pollution down below."

I tuck Lylah closer as my mind struggles to picture what he describes.

"When the Towers were constructed, there was still the little problem of millions of people who would be left behind. If allowed to live, they would continue to use up precious resources and keep spoiling the planet. Also, if they were strong and smart and savvy enough, they would eventually attack the Towers."

He's not looking at us. Not trying to convince us by the force of his gaze that he's telling the truth. He's consulting his memory. Although I may not like what he's saying, I believe him.

"Those in power took the next steps to reduce the numbers by administering what they called miracle drugs to all the people. They promised the drugs would keep everyone safe from a sickness circling the planet. Most took the drugs willingly. They were just another in a long line of beneficial medicines that had saved millions of lives over the years. But that time, it was a lie. The rich fed the masses poison to keep their power and control."

He shakes his head as he pauses, clearly not wanting to share what he's going to tell us next.

"Those who didn't take the shots voluntarily were rounded up and forced to take them. Shortly after the shots were administered, the mutations began. Many died outright. Many."

His eyes remain open, but his gaze goes hazy, like he's looking at something far away.

"Women responded to the shots the worst. Only two out of ten, maybe less, remained alive when it was all over. I believe that was part of the plan. They wanted strong male mutants to remain behind to work as slaves and not have to take time off to bear children. They designed it to keep enough females alive to keep producing males, to replenish the workforce. Women now have litters as opposed to how it used to be when multiple births were rare."

He rubs his face with his palm as he gazes into the fire.

"Many males died during the cataclysm, too. Those who stayed human couldn't reproduce. That's why you've found no human males Down Below.

"Most males who remained alive mutated in ways that allowed them to become beasts of burden to those Up Above. At first, most of those who mutated dove into their bestial forms. Many were killed in animalistic fights for supremacy. Some were so primed for aggression or sex they forgot to eat. They couldn't remember how to use the machines that caused so much pollution and reduced many burdens of daily living. For many, after the initial change, it took a while for their human natures to return."

He shakes his head and pauses for a long time, clearly recalling difficult times.

"It was all an experiment. Nothing explains the small avians who can't be forced to labor in the Works. There are other things that don't completely add up. I've come to chalk them up to mistakes. But one thing I'm certain of. We're here to produce an endless supply of males to abduct and compel to work."

He returns to the present when he looks at each of us and says, "That explains what we are, what we're to be used for, and why, to this day, there are so few females. Luckily, most females produce multiple births to keep the population going."

He shrugs, his long, black hair so shiny it shimmers in the firelight.

"It explains why there is a Works near each Tower to provide for those Up Above. It even explains how, over time, women in the Towers became nothing more than possessions who are forced to do the males' bidding."

Nadira says, "I might be the only female on the planet who can read. I snuck into my father's study and read this quote that resonated with me. ‘Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.' That certainly seems to be how things evolved."

"Yes. Well put," Drixxa says.

"What it doesn't explain is how you know all this," the orc accuses.

"Simple answer?" the dragon asks. "I have no idea. Somehow, the way they fucked with my DNA made me into one of the largest living things on the planet, the only one of my kind that I know of, and gave me a long life."

His long, black hair doesn't even have a strand of gray in it.

"How long has it been since the cataclysm?" Azael asks.

"I went through a… bad patch and quit counting for a while. To the best of my knowledge, it's been 200 years, give or take."

The sounds of the Village continue on around us, although they're subdued. I imagine everyone is keeping their gaze on us, a weapon in hand or close by.

I try my hardest to wrap my mind around this, but it feels like my head will explode. A spinning ball. A population a thousand times bigger than what we have. Thriving cities that collapsed not because of a natural cataclysm, but because it was planned by greedy people?

"I'm glad I didn't live through that," I say before I know the words are out of my mouth.

"Yes. I lost everyone who was ever dear to me. Everyone I ever knew has turned to dust by now."

Although I can't picture much of what he described, I can feel his pain and imagine what it would be like to lose my mates. I swallow repeatedly to control my raging emotions as I reach to my mates and pull the three of them closer.