Immaculate conception

I have been here many times over the years.

Observed, collected specimens, experimented, manipulated.

Yes. Many times.

But my old body now protests at the rigours of the travelling.

Though it saddens me, I know that it has to be.
When this visit is over, I shall pass the task to someone younger.

The garden still needs tending, and the animals, left unsupervised, would destroy it.

No-one lives forever. My old frame is spattered with weaknesses, and feeblenesses, and the time of my ascension draws nearer.

I have come to believe that this garden is mine, mine alone, even though many others have assisted in its building.

I am the one that has always been there through each important decision.

It was I that planted the first seeds.

And was it not I that vetoed the destruction of the higher fields?
Some of the animals prevailed the cold climate, and survived.

I saw to the irrigation of the ground, so the plants would flourish, so the animals could feed.

Yes, there were times, and my shame burns my soul when thoughts of them come to haunt me.

Times when I was unable to prevent the witherings, and the wastings.

Times when I was unable to watch over every leaf, and every creature in my care.

Times when I provided more water than was needed to one plot, whilst allowing another to sere.

Yes, I have made mistakes.

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I watched my precious flock grow, and evolve. I watched the herds become larger, and breed until they covered the land.

I watched them learn to traverse the water, and interbreed, and diversify, and strengthen.

Oh, there were other gardens. I visited many, on numerous occasions.

Some flourished, others were destined to fail.

Even the most diligent gardener cannot nurture life where the soil is not suitable.

We built them far apart, to prevent cross-contamination. So that diseases and genetic weaknesses from one, could not spread to another.

Yes, there were other gardens. But this one is mine.

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I chose the female with great care and deliberation.

She was strong, and of good stock. Healthy, robust, and genetically suited to my plans.

Her herd lived in an area of warm clime, this would improve the chances of survival.

I sedated the female, surgically implanted the seed, and returned her to the herd, very quietly, and carefully, so as not cause distress amongst them.

For this was a crucial time.

I watched, and waited.

The infant was born. Healthy and strong.

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My work here is done now.

In their primitive tongue, the female was known as Mh'ai'ri.

The infant was given the name Jh'ee'suz.

“Come now Gh'o'td, my old friend.” Said my companion. “It is time to leave.”

“Your son shall guide them now.”


©2010 Stephen. J. Green.