Paul Hardy - The Last Man on Earth Club

Pew tried to show Liss how to dig her allotted section, though she was slow to learn. But Pew’s own work was fast and good. He explained that he’d spent a lot of time in the zoo’s vegetable garden during his childhood, and made excellent time, planting a number of crops before the day was out. Olivia even paid his work a grudging compliment.

Kwame was brought back out by Veofol, looking even more grave than usual. I asked him how his meeting had gone.

“My case has been postponed indefinitely,” he said. “They say there is no body competent to investigate my claims, because the Interversal Criminal Tribunal is not fully convened.”

“I see.”

“This is bureaucracy at work. The only people who can judge me are allowed to judge no one.”

“Well, the ICT is the only body that might be able to look into a genocide. But they’re also supposed to investigate claims of interference between one universe and another, and that’s rather controversial. It’s only there in a shadow capacity until the IU decides whether or not to activate it.”

“And when will that be?”

“It’s a tricky political question,” I said. “Some member species are against it in principle.”

“And how many worlds did they murder?”

“The issues aren’t quite that extreme,” I said. “They’re more worried about what the IU would have to become if we started making judgements, or they’d prefer we didn’t interfere in their affairs. You should probably do your own research on this, or we can discuss it in group if you like.”

“That will change nothing…” He looked back at the main building and said: “How long has she been there?”

I followed his look. Katie stood by the side of the building, watching the others while they worked.

“That’s a good question,” I said. It turned out she had emerged half an hour earlier and moved to a shadow to watch. I called her name and asked if she wanted a chair. She didn’t reply. I sent Veofol. He spoke to her briefly, then came back looking puzzled.

“Rather odd,” he said. “I asked her but she didn’t answer for about a minute. Then she said she didn’t need anything.”

“She is a machine. Why do you keep her here?” asked Kwame.

“She needs help as much as the rest of you.” I turned to Veofol. “Is she all right now?”

“Seems as well as ever,” said Veofol.

“Let me know if she does anything similar,” I said.

Olivia, meanwhile, was losing patience with Liss. With the natural strength of her species and her own clumsiness, she repeatedly made a mess of preparing a plot. After finishing a section of her own, Olivia was incensed to discover that Liss had been digging too deep. Olivia told her she wasn’t supposed to be excavating foundations. Liss protested that she didn’t know how to do this, and why were they doing it themselves anyway when they had all sorts of tools that could float in and do it for them? That made Olivia particularly angry; she told Liss they were doing it because it needed to be done and she wasn’t going to get any of her precious flowers without it. Liss said that was stupid and she was going to go and get mechanical help. Olivia told her exactly what she thought of her — she was lazy, she’d never done a day’s work in her life, she sat on her backside while other people did all the hard work, and so on. Liss responded by calling Olivia a mean old bitch, flinging her tools down and leaving the garden in a huff. I sent Veofol after her, decided a short break was called for, and had a word with Olivia about tact, though I only got muttering and grumbles in reply.

As they rested with water, Pew asked a question. “Can we get chickens?”

“What’s a chicken?” asked Iokan.

“What do you mean, ‘what’s a chicken?’” demanded Olivia.

“They probably don’t exist on Iokan’s world,” I said.

“How can you have a world without chickens?” she asked, incredulous.

Iokan shrugged. “The Antecessors only left us with certain animals. This ‘chicken’ wasn’t one of them. What are they?”

“Flightless birds used for meat and eggs,” I told him.

“Yeah, but can we get some?” asked Pew.

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Oh, so we can grow vegetables but we still have to eat machine meat?” said Olivia.

“I don’t understand,” said Iokan. “What’s the problem with chickens?”

“It’s a biodiversity precaution,” I said. “We’re all aliens here. We don’t want other species to get loose and take over the planet. That’s why all the plants are infertile. They’ll come up with seeds, but the seeds won’t grow. We’d do the same to animals, but it’s a lot more trouble and they tend to have minds of their own. Plus they bring a lot more microorganisms with them. So, no chickens. Sorry.”

“I see,” said Iokan. “Actually…” He looked around, and tilted his head to listen as well. “I haven’t seen any animals since I’ve been here, beyond a few insects…”

“No,” I said. “You wouldn’t.”

“It’s summer… there should be birds everywhere. And animals in the woods, and more insects as well…” He looked around again. “Something happened here, didn’t it?”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“Something that wiped out the birds.”

I nodded. “There was an asteroid strike about forty thousand years ago. Most of the plants survived, and a lot of insects, but the megafauna didn’t make it. It’s one of the reasons the IU picked Hub; it’s somewhere we can minimise our impact.”

“And humans?” he asked.

“They died out, too.”

He sighed. “We should get back to work.” He stood, but was immediately unsteady. “Ah…”

I went to help him. “Okay, I think you’ve probably had enough exercise for one day.”

“You may be right,” he said. I called for a nurse to take him inside, and asked Kwame if he wanted to help the group. He took a look at Olivia, who smiled contemptuously, and then decided not to bother. I took him back inside and let Olivia and Pew get back to the garden on their own, with only Katie watching them for reasons she kept to herself.

The gardening was a step in the right direction, but only a limited one. Olivia monopolised the task, and Pew was the only one willing to work with her the next day. Iokan was instructed to rest — he was recovering fast, but still needed to take it easy.

Despite the odd cautious friendship formed here and there, the group still failed to come together. They found it too easy to retreat into their rooms and hide in the company of nothing but their own troubles. We could have housed them all in dormitories, but the ability to spend time alone was vital for therapy in other ways. So we were stuck for the moment, and it looked like I would have to resort to more serious measures.

Back at home, I’d finally convinced Bell he wasn’t going to be able to interview any of the group, and, as he often did, he skipped onto another subject without bothering to resolve the last one, leaving me irritated while be bounded into a new enthusiasm without a note of apology. We went out into the city for drinks in one of the more traditional bars where staff from the Diplomatic Service go to complain of the burden of their work, and he proposed we spend a week away together. Maybe skiing, or a beach trip — he’d heard of the new resort on the Gulf coast that had opened up, in distant sight of the Lift. It was his way of saying sorry and making an effort, I suppose. He was crestfallen when I had to remind him there was no way I could take a week off. An evening out was as much holiday as I was likely to get for the next year, at least. I probably shouldn’t have told him that my plans for the group meant I would be going away with them for a week or so as well. He took that as something of a deliberate insult, and went very quiet for a while. The evening ended with neither of us saying much, and me feeling relieved to be going back to work in the morning.