The World As You Once Saw It

Sunday, June 4th, 2122.

I’ve been writing for months, so I suppose I should mention how we got here.

It gets colder, and darker, the deeper you delve into the earth. And then as time went on it got warmer. Hotter. Almost to the point that it would be uncomfortable. And then it did become uncomfortable. On the way down we build tracks for old mining carts, vertical and once smooth. The tracks are old now, and begging to be replaced or at the very least repaired, so that the nerve-wracking climbs and descents might become less so. When first built they would rattle and creak already, but now there’s clacking, and screeching, and non-rhythmic jolts and jerks that make you wonder if the tracks are finally going to crumble to pieces, unseating the carts as a result, and plummeting the passengers into the darkness below.

I don’t remember when humans made the Plunge into the earth, as I wasn’t alive yet. My parents were there for the Plunge, but now all I have left of them is this heart-shaped locket my father gave to my mother on their wedding night with a picture of the two of them in it. My brother and I have made the best of it though. The Plunge started when people began to realize that life on the surface would not last any longer because large corporations and big governments were refusing to cut back on their carbon emissions due to resulting lowered profits. Mars was out, because although technology progressed the fastest in the 20th century, it simply wasn’t fast enough to colonize in time. So into the earth we went. Billions of people never made it in, but somehow that feels like it was for the best. Everyone barely fit on the surface, how would everyone fit below? Even now, the inside of the Earth where it was once cold, wet, and dark is polluted with light, carbon dioxide, methane, and the unforgiving humid heat. Water isn’t as easy to come by as it once was. What is found, however, is often from cave systems or the surface. But people sweat, and there’s always tiny amounts of water to moisten the air despite there being not enough to collect and drink.

My brother and I are the only ones in our system who lost their parents. We come from a line of outgoing, adventurous people, and they needed to see the sun, and what’s become of the earth. They went up, days passed, and they never came back down. There were others with them of course, but they didn’t come back either. The engineer’s daughter and apprentice was selected to make the slow climb up the shaft to retrieve the cart and bring it back down, and to bring news of the surface party if there was any to be heard. It took her a long time but she did it, and had no news of them at all. Her face was grim though, besides the clear exhaustion of climbing miles through cold and wet cave to the surface one could see fear and mourning. I had to know if she had simply withheld news, and she revealed that she had seen them, but only briefly. They were nearly back to the cart, and became food for something huge and spined, or so she guessed based on the blood left in the creature’s wake. She had come up only minutes too late. Her terror seemed to me only surface-deep though, because I later wondered why something that big would need spines... unless there was something bigger it needed defense against? What’s out there on the surface?

I became a field biologist. I needed to know what was out there, and wanted to see the new creatures of the warped and twisted world that no longer sustains humans. My brother, on the other hand, didn’t want to know. He is simply too compassionate for these trying times, though, and decided to learn field medicine, so he could follow me and my team to the surface and try his utmost to ensure we come back. So we spent our time finding, drawing, capturing, and learning the new creatures of the surface. I was always fascinated, but it never seemed right, to never get real closure on our parents and the creature that got them. We eventually did find the beast, it was large and feathered, resembling a gargantuan cross between a crocodile, ostrich, and porcupine. The tail was thick, with beefy legs and clawed hands. We, of course, did not capture or continue to look for this creature after narrowly escaping.

Our latest excursion was yesterday. While exploring a new area my brother saw a spire in the distance, and we checked it out. This was an incredible discovery, as natural disasters became more frequent and ferocious as part of the worsening climate. They destroyed nearly everything from the old surface. But what my brother found was an old cell tower, heavily rusted, cratered, and leaning, but otherwise barely damaged. We pulled off some foliage, but having no more time on our excursion, he and I resolved to return with the engineer’s daughter and an old burner phone to see if we can get it working.

“Saturday, June twenty-fourth, 6:37 PM. One new message.”

“Is this working? Does it work? I already dialed and I got the answering machine.”

“That means it worked! If the tower was down you would have just gotten a tone.”

“Oh, thank you! Um, Hi, mom and dad. It’s been almost 6 years now since you left us. We are doing alright, going up to the surface like you both did, although we’ve been learning for the future. We found a cell tower, so we thought we’d leave a message.”

“I miss you so much. I love you both.”

“Me too. I miss you both so much.”

“End of messages.”

“Saturday, August twenty-sixth, 2:29 PM. One new message.”

“Hi mom, hi dad. We’re back up at the cell tower today. We planned to come back sooner, but we couldn’t even come up to the surface last month. There was a solar storm, and our tracks wouldn’t work. We think about you every day.”

“The cell tower didn’t take as long to repair this time, since we’d already done the heavy lifting last time. I love you so much mom and dad, and I wish you were still with us to see all the good we’ve been able to do.”

“I love you too, mom and dad. And I think you would be so proud of what we’ve spent our time doing in order to bring hope, and make your home liveable again. We want to see the world as you once saw it.”

“End of messages.”