Paul Hardy - The Last Man on Earth Club

“You mean there are some species where it doesn’t, uh… fit?” I nodded, slowly. “And some that are just…?” She held up her hands, indicating something far too long. I couldn’t help smiling.

“There’s all sorts. If you’re into that kind of thing,” I said. She stifled a smirk. “But this is my point. Once you leave this place, you could get a job, start a life, have a relationship… unless you want to stay here.”

The humour died. All traces of a smile vanished. “They’re not going to let me out.”

“I think it’s likely the security people will be quite understanding. You’ve co-operated, after all. And they’re not going to find anything bad in your PRG records, are they? In the end, it’s really up to you.”

“I guess.”

“It’s a big step, of course…”

“I just feel like… I don’t know if it’s right for me to have a life when everyone else is gone.”

“I understand, Liss. You can take as much time as you like.”

She sighed. I feared it might take a long time to encourage her out of her slump, but a few hours after she’d gone, the infirmary let me know that Liss had visited to ask for a sexual compatibility test. I couldn’t help smiling, though it didn’t last for long. She’d probably get plenty of matches, but it suddenly struck me that she would almost certainly never have children, and that even if she didn’t care about that now, it would bother her one day.

And it worried me that my own mind ran in that direction. Bell was gone. Veofol was gone. Even so, there were men of my own species on Hub, and more on the colony world. I could leave and have children. For a moment, it seemed infinitely appealing. But the moment passed.

There was one more therapy session that week. At the appointed hour, I made my way to the meeting room, and an old friend shimmered into one of the chairs.

“How are you feeling, Asha?” asked Ranev. He was an older man, deeply tanned from the sunlight in the refugee centre he was working at, a subtropical beachside establishment for a species that could not bear to be away from the sea.

I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know why they picked me for this job…”

“Well, I wasn’t available,” said Ranev, and made me smirk. He always knew how. “But seriously: tell me how it is.”

“They’re making progress,” I said. “I should be happy.”

“Is there something missing?”

“Yes.”

“Something or someone?”

I closed my eyes. “They sent his body home yesterday.”

“Veofol,” he said, nodding.

“Yes.” I looked back at him. “You know how it is.”

“Not unless you tell me.”

I had to take a moment. “It’s stupid. It’s irrational. I shouldn’t feel guilty.”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t.”

“I know. It’s… it’s like something you can ignore until you go to bed and then it just plays through your mind. He died because I went on a date. If I’d been there…”

“You might have sent him on that bus anyway. Or he might have been in the city and killed by something else. Or maybe there would have been another disaster at the centre when the data failed.”

“Exactly. I just feel… I know how this works. It shouldn’t affect me. I shouldn’t need therapy.”

“But you do.”

I sighed. “Yes.”

“Do you feel… vulnerable? To transference from your patients?”

“Yes. The things I’m hearing…” I screwed up my eyes. “I keep thinking about my world. I shouldn’t be doing that, I… I shouldn’t…”

“Do you want my opinion?”

“Go on.”

“Therapy. Twice a week. Me or someone else you trust. You need someone to talk to.”

I nodded.

“It’s not that uncommon. In your kind of situation, especially. We all need support,” he said.

“I know.”

“So let’s start.”

Therapy helped. But sometimes the news did not. A chime in my ear told me to get in touch with the Exploration Service. And once I’d spoken to them, I had to speak to Iokan.

I found him outside, fully healed from his injuries in the bus crash, shoving supplies into a backpack, preparing to spend a day hiking around the woods and away from me.

“I’ve got some news from your world, Iokan.”

“More corpses?” he asked. He’d been bitter in the last few days.

“No. We found them.”

“Found who?”

“The Antecessors.”

He stopped filling his bag.

“They were near the sun. It was difficult, but with the data Department Zero collected, we were able to locate them. And talk to them.”

He gaped at me.

“We made contact two days ago. They seem friendly. They gave us a message… for you.”

He gasped. Tears formed in his eyes.

“They want to talk. If you’re willing.”

“Yes!”

“There’s more. The one who contacted us identified itself. Its name… I mean, her name…”

He gasped again. He’d already guessed.

“Her name is Szilmar.”

He fell to his knees with the joy of faith renewed, clasping his hands together.

“Ancients! I thank you! I thank you!”

He bowed his head and began a muttered ritual prayer, shaking with emotion, doubts cast aside and all my work swept away in an instant.

Katie’s situation provoked comment at the next group therapy session. “You’re not letting her stay here, are you?” demanded Olivia.

“Katie. Can you explain about the mohib suit?” I asked.

“The garment restrains me for your safety,” said Katie to the group, while simply sitting upright in her chair.

“Oh, and what if she takes it off? Eh?” asked Olivia. “She can do it, she’s strong enough. Hey! You!” she shouted at Katie. “Go on, try it. You little bitch.”

Katie flashed a look of fury at Olivia. Her remaining arm came up, as though reaching for her collar — but was arrested after thirty centimetres. Her arm shuddered as she fought the mohib suit.

“I lack the strength to overcome the restraining force,” said Katie. She gritted her teeth. “I was fitted with the Mobility Inhibition Suit five days ago. It has been calibrated specifically to my own strength levels, and modified to remove one arm. There was a period of testing lasting two hours after the suit was fitted.” As she concentrated on talking, the tremble in her arm subsided. “It is fastened by molecular bonding and cannot be removed by the wearer. It is self-cleaning on the interior surface and can recycle waste products without needing to be removed. I believe I have regained control.”

The mohib suit let her go, and she laid her hand down at her side.

“Thank you, Katie,” I said, then looked to the group. “I’m sure you’re all aware that Katie’s condition is deteriorating, At the moment she finds she can concentrate better if she relates her situation in detail, so I’d like you all to help, if you can.”

“How are we expected to help?” asked Kwame.

“Do we just listen when she talks?” asked Liss.

“Yes,” I said, “but I think we need to do more than that. This is something I wanted to address with everyone today. Since we moved here, I’ve noticed you aren’t spending as much time with each other as you did before. I know some of you are going through difficult stages in your therapy at the moment, but that makes it all the more important to have someone to talk to.”

“Someone to talk to?” said Olivia. “Have you tried talking to him lately?”

Iokan was too busy smiling to care about the mundane world, but looked round as Olivia jabbed a finger in his direction. “I’m sorry?”