A New Perspective of the Far Off Future

Remembrance of Better Days

I am old. Old enough to see what is wrong with our world. It didn't use to be this way, to feel like this. But as I hear the familiar far-off clicks from another giant morta, I let loose a stream of fast squeals to my calf. His own clicks cut off as I silence my own, gathering him close. 

We were always more independent, more alone than the other morta species. But there was a time when we weren't afraid to announce our presence. When we weren't afraid to echolocate. Those days are long gone. And I wonder if there's anyone left who remembers those better days.

I tuck my calf close, angling my pectoral flippers to encourage her into my slip stream. I can feel as the water and its currents shift with her new closeness. And I don't hesitate any longer to use the full power in my tail to propel myself away from the sounds of the other. I can only hope we weren't spotted. Weren't sensed in any way.

At first it had been the males. Driven by hunger and fueled by aggression... Many mothers had lost their calves that way. I still remember my first. I had been unable to protect her. I myself had barely gotten away. But I will never forget those screams or the moment my world changed forever.

But it was no longer just the males. Other cetrakians may think we are alone. They may think we are calf killers. But we do care for our own. I feel it now in the love I have for my current calf. I would travel to the farthest and poorest reaches of the ocean if I thought that would protect him, keep him safe. But I refuse to turn into that monster. The monster that had taken that calf away from me. 

Unfortunately, most don't remember those better days. They just remember the days of blood and fear. They only remember how it is now. And so these new females will truly do anything to protect their calves. And that means turning into those monsters, turning into calf-eaters. Fewer calves, means more food to go around for their calves. Not just for today, but for the future when their calves are adult.

And I have felt that desperation. I feel it now. My stomach cramps with the hunger that hasn't been properly sated in weeks. I had managed to scavenge a belgan carcass a couple days ago that had shown the marks of a common morta. But most of that had gone to my calf. He needed it more than I did. 

I remember when we were the top predators. When the common morta had us to fear. But now there is so few of us and what is left so weak from hunger... I can't remember the last time I had hunted a common morta.