Mother Earth

Chapter 1; What Was Before

Nana always told me to appreciate what I had, because I could never be certain on how long it would last.

She used to take me out in her backyard, leading me around by the hand and telling me how long it took her to plant everything in the garden that year. She would point out all the young flower stems poking out of the ground, and show me how to pick out the dead leaves and debris from the bases so the water could get to the soil around them.

She taught me how to avoid the thorns on the roses, since I hovered around them often. They were her favorite, so they were my favorite too. She never let me cut or pick them though, telling me they were fine where they were; nature placed them there with the intent to live.

"Sivan! Come here!"

I find it ironic, the roses that is. They ones she kept were some of the last ones in the country. The beautiful, delicate rose, so vivid in our culture, depleted by mass disease and war. Of course Ark will bring them back, but for now I have nothing. Not long after she passed away, they died too. I was so careful, but one day I walked out and they were withered, dry and black. Maybe it wasn't meant to be.

"I'm coming!"

They aren't human, Ark's experiments, but they look human. They walk, they talk, but a lot of them display features of what they once were. Some are hazardous, some are barely alive, and some I would otherwise mistake in a conversation for my fellow human. It's so hard to tell now, living with so many of them in this small town, but we know their faces.

After we nursed who we named the Princess of Lilacs back to health I discovered most of these creatures are in fact not lab made, but rather just altered. Sick humans, forgotten civilians, ragged homeless. Some, however, are built up from the bottom. Specific atoms, rearranged molecules- kept under lock and key until they are no longer useful.

No matter their origin, they come to us.

Or try at least; a lot never make it.

Though the curtains are open and the windows are clean, the light is so muted it almost looks like there's a layer of clouds inside the house. It's a foggy darkness, but despite this I can see a figure curled up in the corner. He's trembling, still dressed in his dusty white shirt and drawstring trousers from Ark; he was just dropped.

"He won't talk to any of us." Digit leans in close, whispering so only I can hear. "You usually have luck so, go at it. But be careful, please. He's Created, so we're not really sure what his capabilities are yet."

I watch the figure a moment longer, then nod and step forward. He's partially tucked behind the recliner, hidden from the view of the front door but not the rest of the living room. I carefully kneel in front of him, cornering him but making myself his size. I paused a few seconds before sitting fully on the itchy carpet.

It's best to speak quietly. If he's Created, I don't know how many humans he's interacted with, and if any of those interactions have been kind.

Never touch, no matter how gentle.

"You're safe now," I whisper warmly. "My name is Sivan, and I'm here to protect you."

He shifts, hugging his knees tighter as he glances over his shoulder. I've seen plenty of strange things upon retrievals so the total blackness of his eyes doesn't surprise me, but the glare that accompanies the soft features of his flushed face nearly startles me into backing up.

"I don't know how much information you've received," I say, "but this is my house. You're far from the city, and no city dwellers come out here. Ark will leave you alone now."