No-one has given me a sensible reason why, when the zeon mine shut down, a few families choose to remain behind in town. I think you’ve heard of inbreeding – apparently it’s happened to your species too. But, it wasn’t just one species marrying their first cousin, it’s a genealogy/family tree that includes folks from 3 different planets and 6 different species. Now I think you get what I mean. H**l, I think I’m my uncle’s brother and grandfather.
I won’t even try and explain the relationships – we gave up generations ago. If two of you are attracted to each other, you walk, crawl, slither or float out together for a while – out on to the Creion Plain, once alive with rivers and forests – now desolate – destroyed by zeon mining. You have to court for at least a year to be sure that you were meant for each other despite slight problems like he slithers while she walks. Then a big celebration that joining the two, and wishes for happiness, and many children.
Yes, many children. You would think at some point folks would realize why babies were getting stranger and stranger. The mixing of our bloods was so complete and complex, that each generation differed greatly/couldn’t be told from the next. Have one or two children, but not the five or seven that were usual. It was only bringing us closer to destruction.
Should some fool on a quest, a hero out to find his lost love, an adventurer, a traveler, a tourist, a fairy tale writer make the mistake of stopping in town, well that’s where the new “blood” came from that meant we could go on for a few generations more. But these folks, because they were from one of the 3 planets or 6 species and so not that far genetically removed from the town’s original family tree, the total effect on the gene pool was just a small percentage. So, their stay might be rather short, here and elsewhere.
Of course, I was labeled a radical. For my thoughts on the number of children, the gene pool, rejoining society, and other such “wild” ideas. And, since my father was from your planet, I was both the outcast from and the savior of our town. He died not long after I was born, killed in an accident. I grow more suspicious that it wasn’t an accident, but murder by those who were scared of new ways. Our brains were shrinking, so thinking clearly was becoming harder. I think we were no longer inbred mutants, but devolving back to our origins in the distant past.
If my mother hadn’t come from one of the dominant clans, I doubt she and I would still be here. Though townsfolk might whisper, drool, grunt, and point with claws, tentacles, or a single elongated finger, they had to put up with our existence.
Then someone whose brain was still close to normal size for a what-ever you would call our species now, realized I was a very precious resource. I had new genes – genes from somewhere else and someone else. That changed me from someone to run out of town, to someone to keep in town and . . . .
Someone warned my mother, and I managed to get away before the NGBG committee (new genes are better genes) came to call. She gave me a map to where my father’s space vehicle had crashed, and instructions on how to use the communicator.
I don’t know for sure you hear me – I find it difficult to use the machine; remember I am only partly of your species. I know you won’t come to rescue me. You didn’t come and look for my father. But I wanted to warn you. Even if you are one species with the same or similar genes, please keep those genes as mixed as possible. Otherwise, you will end up with a town like . . . . .
Written for MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie, Fairy Tale Friday Prompt 32