Paul Hardy - The Last Man on Earth Club

Somewhere in the tangled forest between mountain peaks lay the first waypoint; not impossible to find, but not easy either. The group would have to work together to get there. Dressed in practical hiking gear, they huddled around Kwame to look at the map, displayed on a large-format foldable pad and weighted down on a tree stump. This was no cartoon trail guide but a detailed professional map showing the paths, watercourses and bridges through the woods, and the occasional geographical feature like an impassable gorge slashed into the landscape.

Kwame tapped a symbol on the map with a wavering finger. “So our task is to reach this rock here.”

They looked up. Over the tops of the trees, an upthrust slab of granite poked out of the canopy. An easy enough landmark by itself, but one they would not be able to see once they left the clearing at the edge of the forest where the bus had dropped them.

Kwame indicated a list of co-ordinates on a window to one edge of the map. “And we should have to reach these checkpoints in order to do so.”

“But those are just numbers!” said Liss. Her choice of outfit for the excursion made some concessions to practicality, but still had far too many pink bobbles.

“Grid references,” said Iokan. “Seems quite simple.” He’d switched his monk-like robe for something much more functional: a black polo-neck sweater, heavy walking boots, hard-wearing trousers and a jacket whose many pockets he’d filled with dozens of tools and gadgets.

“Haven’t you ever read a map before, girl?” demanded Olivia.

“I don’t go in the country. I don’t know what this means!”

“The map has a grid. Do you see?” Iokan traced lines across the chart. “The gridlines are numbered and you work out your grid reference from them.”

“Uh. Okay.”

“So if we’re here,” he tapped on the clearing they were in, “what’s our grid reference?”

“Um…” she traced the lines across. “Sort of nearly three six across and a bit less than eight nine down?”

“Okay, but it’s a six figure grid reference. The last two figures aren’t marked on the map. If they were, there’d be so many lines you wouldn’t be able to see the map itself. See?” He tapped a control and brought up the full grid, hatching over the map and making it difficult to read. He wiped it away. “So it’s best to just imagine them.”

“That’s stupid,” pouted Liss.

“I hope you never get lost for real…” muttered Olivia.

“Perhaps you should lead us,” said Kwame to Iokan. “I take it you have some experience?”

Iokan shrugged. “I was a military man. Once upon a time.”

Kwame brightened. “Really? What kind of service did you do?”

Iokan smiled. “The kind you don’t talk about.”

Away from the table, Pew struggled to get a pack on his back. “Do we have to carry so much?”

“The mass is negligible,” stated Katie.

“For you it’s negligible,” he said, grunting as he lifted the pack. “I’m only Pu.”

“That is unfortunate.”

He looked up at her, shocked and angry. “What do you mean by that?”

“The Pu species possesses only average human strength. This is unfortunate for the Pu species.”

He realised there wasn’t a trace of malice on her face, or any other emotion. He swallowed back his own feelings. “Uh, right. Any chance you can help?”

She lifted his pack with one hand and held it up so he could slip his arms in the straps. “Uh, thanks,” he said.

“You are welcome,” she said, releasing the pack. He slumped under the weight.

Iokan turned to the group. “All right everyone. Packs on backs, let’s get going before the sun goes down!”

Some grumbled at the weight, though not Liss, who proclaimed it easy peasy to lift. Olivia told her if it was so easy she could take hers as well. Liss stuck out her tongue and went on without helping. Iokan was less vindictive. “You’ve got the straps too long…” he said. “Here, let me.” Olivia looked suspiciously at him as he adjusted the pack to let it sit more easily. “There, is that better?”

“Yeh. Better. Thanks,” she said, reluctant to be indebted.

“My pleasure. Let’s go,” he smiled, and struck out towards the trees, folding the map and trailing the others behind him.

“I don’t get this…” said Liss, looking at her magnetic compass, a needle suspended in a clear plastic shell.

Kwame sighed. “It is a compass. It works by aligning the needle to Hub’s magnetic field—”

“I’m not stupid. I know what a compass is. I mean why are we using one of these things when we’ve got proper computer ones and satellite tracking and everything?”

“Bloody good question,” muttered Olivia as she passed into the shade of the forest.

A few days earlier, I’d gathered the group in the common room to tell them about the excursion.

“As some of you know, the Refugee Service doesn’t just look after people while they’re waiting to go to a colony world. We also look after people who were injured too badly to be able to go straight away. So we have a lot of permanent facilities for them, including a few where we give people a holiday if they need it. And that’s where I’d like to take you all in a few days.”

“What kind of holiday do you mean?” asked Kwame.

“It’s an outdoor activity centre. So camping, hiking, woodland activities. That kind of thing”

“We’re going camping!” squeaked Liss. “Can we have marshmallows on sticks?”

“I’m sure we can,” I said.

“We’ll be in the wilderness?” asked Kwame, concerned.

“Not exactly. We’ll sleep indoors most nights but we’ll go camping as well. We’ll be out there for a week, and I promise you: no therapy while we’re there.”

“What kind of things are we supposed to be doing?” asked Olivia, suspicious.

“Walking, hiking, games, team-building… all kinds of things,” I said. Olivia rolled her eyes at the mention of ‘team-building’.

“We’re not doing the thing with the stick, are we?” she asked.

“What’s the thing with the stick?” asked Pew.

“The helium stick. Or the anti-grav stick. Or whatever they’re calling it. They made me do this team-building rubbish before, they give a load of you a stick and you all have to balance it on your fingers and lower it to the ground. It’s childish,” said Olivia.

“It’s about building trust and helping you work together,” I said.

“It’s ridiculous. I’m not doing it.”

I made a note to keep the anti-grav stick off the list of activities. “I’m sure we’ll find something for you to do,” I said.

Pew cocked his head, troubled by a sound in the forest. He strained to listen, unable to see because of the blindfold across his eyes. “What was that?” he asked.

“Branch fell off a tree,” said Olivia.

“Right. Right,” he said, still nervous. She sighed.

“I know it’s stupid, but you’ve only got to put one foot in front of the other.”

“Okay…” he said, and tried it.

“That’s it,” said Olivia. “And another.”

He took another step. The ground remained firm. He waited.

“Do I need to hold your hand?” she demanded.

“Wasn’t that what we were supposed to do?”

“All right, then…” she sighed and took his hand. He walked on with greater confidence. “Mind yourself,” she said. “Bloody great root there, you’re going to have to lift your feet.”

He stepped up and onto the root. “Stop there,” said Olivia.