S3E16: Swan Song

The emptiness inside me was vast and profound, an aching chasm that threatened to swallow me whole. For months now, since Inanna’s return and our many meetings with the scattered Anunnaki groups, it had been growing steadily. Our connection to Nibiru was severed, our purpose forsaken by Anu, our actions frowned upon. We were no longer needed, now that Anu’s forces had secured steady gold mining operations elsewhere.

Worse still, we had become targets – of the fundamentalist fanatics in Enlil’s Tiamat faction risking the native lifeforms on this planet… we are not from here… we could never truly call this planet home. With each passing day, the truth weighed heavier upon my heart: it was time to go.

It was time to go back home… if at all it was still ours to call home!

Time to gather our people and make the long journey back to Nibiru. Back to the planet of our origin, the cradle of our species. Ninki’s pleiadian fleet assured us safe passage and transportation.

Leaving the first domed Anunnaki settlement of Eridu, I wandered the streets aimlessly, watching the preparations unfolding at my command. Stacked cargo crates and humming levitators filled the thoroughfares as my people packed up lives lived for millennia on this adopted world. Their reactions ran the gamut from prompt obedience to reluctant melancholy. Many had formed unexpected connections here, bonds that would now be severed forever.

My heart ached for them too.

Near the Great Forum, I came upon a family of engineers dismantling an irrigation apparatus they had designed themselves eons ago. They worked efficiently, but without the enthusiasm that had marked all their past innovations. Sorrow pulled at the corners of their eyes.

I stopped, placing a hand gently on the shoulder of the eldest. “Take pride in all you have accomplished here,” I told them softly. They turned to me, surprise flickering across their faces. Pride was an emotion they had long been forced to suppress… I remember how they suffered with Enlil’s attack… how they pressed on to survive in the subterranean outposts… how they gave everything to the cause, to this planet and to the mission.

I offered an encouraging smile. “Every advance you made was a triumph of intellect and spirit over adversity. Your work will be remembered.”

Their relief broke over me like a cleansing wave. More nods and murmured thanks followed as I continued through the city, stopping to share kind words with my people when I could. Their spirits seemed to lift, if only by small increments. But the hollow ache inside me remained.

At the spaceport, or what was left of it with the dismantling process, ordered chaos reigned. Ships were being loaded and fueled at a frenetic pace under Abgal’s steely direction. His was a spirit of ruthless efficiency, and while I admired his leadership, it lacked the empathy these people needed. I still recall the day I met Abgal back on Nibiru… how friendship flourished into an everlasting companionship. Today I am sure that he did not only save my life on the first encounter… he would be my loyal friend and savior forever… as I’m sure he knows I am his.

I spied Inanna across the bustling tarmac, saying tearful goodbyes to the friends she had made. They exchanged garlands of flowers and significant objects from the labs where they had often worked and laughed together. Her eyes met mine, brimming with hurt. I shook my head sadly – we had no choice but to leave.

Turning away, I came face to face with a towering stack of metal crates containing the last seeds gathered from this planet’s manifold ecosystems. All our exobiology teams’ efforts to catalog the diversity of life here, now packed away for an uncertain future. Even our knowledge felt suddenly small and fragile.

Wandering on, I found myself inside the Temple of Nudimmud, the air still thick with spicy incense. Murals of our history here covered the walls, all the way back to the first crude shelters we had erected when Ki was still new and strange to us. I traced my fingers over a colorful scene of my first landing. So much time had passed since then, so many memories made. And now we would sail into the black between stars once more, leaving all this behind.

The hollow ache inside me threatened to split me asunder. I sank to my knees before the swirling cosmos depicted on the temple dome, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “Forgive me!” I cried out… it was not a lament to a god or any entity, but to history itself. “Forgive me for all our ignorant trespasses, for the connections severed… for bringing forth a history this planet was not prepared for.” My words echoed emptily through the vacant temple.

Wiping my eyes, I continued back towards the center of Eridu Prime, the first and greatest of our cities here. All around me, activity continued at a frenzied pace, but my feet dragged as if through mud. Each step was slow and heavy with the burden of this command I had been forced to give.

In the administrative sectors, I stared up at the mute metal walls, at the empty offices and workshops where some of our greatest innovations had been birthed, nurtured, then set free to uplift this society we had built together. All abandoned now, being dismantled piece by piece until there is no trace of our presence… memories all over… their ghosts already fading back into oblivion.

The hollow ache widened into a howling void. As I returned to the much needed silence of the Temple of Nudimmud, night began to fall… the shadows around me deepening. The terror and uncertainty in my people’s faces when I had given the evacuation order haunted me. Had I failed them? Failed our mission here? The questions echoed endlessly in the void within me.

Exhausted, I sank onto a bench engraved with old astronomical patterns, head in hands.

Soft footsteps sounded on the path and a hand gently grasped my shoulder. I looked up into my daughter’s eyes, so like her mother’s, and saw the reflection of my own haunted sorrow there. But behind it lay Inanna’s fiery determination, her unbroken spirit.

“Father, are you ok? The anunna people need you now, father. You must show them the way, as you have always done before. Despite my own opinion, I trust your better judgement… and so do they all.”

I shook my head wearily. “The way ahead is dark and unknown. I fear I have already led them astray.”

“You followed your conscience and your wisdom. What more can any leader do? Let’s be honest, father… I was the one to let my own turmoil set fire to an already frail construction. If anyone is to blame…”

“STOP Inanna. I won’t have you taking responsibility for something that was already brewing in the background for ages before your birth.”

“Still… father, they need you now, more than ever before.”

Her words reignited a spark deep within me. She was right – now more than ever, my people needed guidance to help them through this painful transition. I could not abandon them to despair.

I rose, drawing myself up to my full height. There was still much work to be done this night, preparations both practical and spiritual. Our long journey would begin soon, our course set for the distant beacon of home. Uncertainty and danger awaited, but we would face them as we had faced other trials before – united and undaunted.

I pulled Inanna close, then turned with her to leave the silent temple. Our lights glittered bravely amidst the deepening night. Together, we would kindle new hope for our people. This was not an end, but the start of a new path forward.

And in my heart, the first fragile seedlings of a new era were taking root within the emptiness.

[In those days, in those distant days

In those nights, in those ancient nights

In those years, in those distant years

In those ancient days all things had been created

In ancient time when all things were given their place

When bread was first tasted in the sacred shrines of the land

When the ovens had been lighted

When the heavens had been separated from the earth

When the earth had been separated from the heavens

When mankind had been established]