The before time

In the before-time, water was plentiful.  You could turn on something called a faucet and fresh, clean water would spill out for all to enjoy.  The wasters, as the before people came to be known, did not worry about the day when the water ran out.  They used it to grow a decorative grassland in front of their dwellings.  Filled up exclusive wading areas meant for recreation. They dammed up rivers to feed their gluttonous ways.  Changing the landscape, changing the world to fit their needs.  By the time, the wasters realized how dire the situation was, it was too late.  Water became more precious than any jewel, any ore, any commodity.  Without water, life would cease to exist for all species. 

Civilization began to collapse.  The rich hoarded, the poor suffered.  Revolts and revolutions grew and fell.  Millions died, either from thirst, famine, or war.  Without water, crops withered on the vine.  Without water, economies came to a halt.  New borders were drawn almost daily in the worldwide struggle for this basic need.  Human behavior did not change, even in the end times.  The strong survived by stepping on the bodies of the weak.  In this time of great loss, came a savior.  A simple man with an idea.  To move into the ground, into the earth.  His name was Ezra.  He came from a long line of diggers.  His idea was to move society into the earth, the ground.  Away from the extreme weather.  Tornadoes, hurricanes, floods, heat waves, and more ravaged our planet over and over.  Add in war and the human toll was devastating.  Ezra, in Hebrew means help.  He was the help being offered that so few took.  A small group of followers listened.  They believed he was sent by a higher power to save humankind.  The children had all heard this story passed down from generation to generation.  Of Ezra the meek who saved the weak, the poor and downtrodden.  From on high he heard the word to go below into the earth, a new birth for those who were strong of faith and pure of heart. 

It was called the Great Undertaking.  These dedicated followers purchased land and began excavating.  Building underground cities to escape the atrocities of the surface world.  By 2300 AD, ten such cities existed in various parts of the world.  Each city was self-sufficient.  They grew their own food, provided their own shelter, and most importantly had water.  The lifeblood of civilization.  Most of these cities were built around natural springs where water was readily available.  As the surface world burned, the diggers thrived.  History class was the same thing every year.  Nine Toes had heard it so much, he could recite it word for word.  He wondered if the surface world had perished as the great prophet Ezra had foretold.  He doubted the stories.  He was a teenager of course, questioning was what they did.  

Going to the surface was forbidden, punishable by death.  The punishment was death by thirst.  A thirsting.  One hadn’t been performed in over a century. It was an absolutely horrific way to die.  A heretic would be given no water until they perished.  Seven days, some lasted eight.  Humans were walking bags of water.  When dehydrated, the body takes from within.  First, the kidneys where water is reabsorbed from your urine.  Eventually, one by one water is taken from the least important organs to the most.  The punished become living skeletons, teeth and gums drawn back, tongue like a piece of dried meat, skin taut and blackened.  You would beg for death if you could speak.  It was meant as a warning to stay away from the world above. 

Their religion, Ezronea, forbade its followers from desire or lust.  It preached strict adherence to the code.  All would be provided from Ezra, from the earth, forever.  Any personal yearnings were banned.  Each family was rationed a daily allotment of the basic necessities: food and water.   The risks only made Nine Toes want to do it even more.  What if they were wrong?  What if the stories are all a big lie?  He had to find out.  

"What are you planning?"   A whisper from behind him.  Biggun was one of the twins.  He sat directly behind Nine Toes in class.  "I can tell you are planning something," he said.  His voice was low and deep.  

"Shh, be quiet Biggun.  Or shall I speak to your breeders."  

"No sir.  Sorry Docent Red Beard.  Please forgive my disobedience."

"See me after morning guidance, Biggun."

"Yes sir."

Class was dismissed. After ten minutes of contemplation, Biggun was released from his punishment.  Docent Red Beard decided today’s lesson would be how many knuckle pushups Biggun could do.  When he slowed down his pace, a switch was cracked upon the backs of his hands.  Biggun emerged with a glare of defiance in his eyes, but he kept his mouth shut.  

He strode up to Nine Toes who was talking with Lil’un, his twin brother.  

"Gotta be quieter my man," Lil’un said with a smirk.

Biggun punched his meaty hand in his brother’s right side.  The yelp of pain from Lil’un meant he might keep his mouth shut next time, maybe.

“So, what are you planning, Nine Toes.  I can tell when you are thinking because you look up towards the sky and drift away.”  

“Nothing”, said Nine Toes.  Nothing, you need to worry about at least.

Nine Toes knew the secret passageways.  As a kid, he snuck around the blockades towards the up world.  His fear of spiders was born that day.  One misstep in a crevice in the rock ledge.  Black widows don’t like intruders in their nests.   Hundreds of spiders crawled all over his left leg, biting as they went up his body.  Nine Toes still had nightmares about that day.  The learned ones said it was a miracle he survived.  A gift from Ezra, the elders would say from the pulpit.  He doubted the divine cared about his odd-digited self.

 Nine Toes had it planned in his head.  During the Festival de Geomatka, on the summer solstice, he would embark on his pilgrimage. He was willing to die for his beliefs.  Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.