Paul Hardy - The Last Man on Earth Club

“It’s okay, Liss. Go on.”

“They were in the kitchen. They were on the floor, in the kitchen. Just these two little piles and, and, a couple of cracked plates. They always used to argue over the dishes when I wasn’t there to do them…” Another tissue was required.

“And you buried them.”

“Yeah. I put them in a sandwich bag and dug up the garden and put them in there. I mixed them together. Is that okay?”

“I’m sure they would have appreciated it, Liss. Did you stay there after that?”

“No. I went home. And then I went back to work. You must think I’m so stupid…”

“No, Liss. I think you survived. I think that’s an achievement, no matter how you did it.”

She wiped her nose on one of the many tissues I’d given her. “I didn’t do anything. All I did was forget to die.”

“It’s still worth something. And sooner or later we’ll find out what happened on your world.”

“’s just a joke. That’s all it is.”

“We’ll find out, Liss.”

“Just a frigging joke. That’s my world. Just a big joke.”

She huddled up in her chair again, and I didn’t get any more out of her that day.

There was a chime in my ear, and a message before my eyes: EMERGENCY ASSISTANCE REQUIRED: INFIRMARY. I ran from my office, playing video on a separate stream, floating in apparent space before me.

Katie was awake, shouting at the medical staff and Veofol, who had been staying by her side as much as possible — but now he was backed up against a wall while Katie screamed at them.

“I’m not talking to fucking needle jockeys!”

She smashed a trolley into the wall. The two nurses and a doctor backed off a little more.

“I’ve called an officer!” said Veofol. “She’s on her way!”

I concentrated on where I was for a moment — into the gravity tube for a few seconds of freefall, a sudden stop on the ground floor, then out to the infirmary. Security were piling up outside, checking weapons. Lomeva Sisse stepped in my way, imposing in full power armour.

“You’re not going in there,” she said.

“Why?”

“She’s lost it. I’m not risking anyone going in.”

I checked the video: Katie had Veofol by his jacket lapels, dragging him down to her height and demanding: “Well? Where is this fucking officer?”

“She’s on her way! If you just give her a moment!” he replied. He knew I’d be watching, and had an idea for how to deal with the situation. It was a good idea.

I snapped back to reality. “Get out of the way,” I said. Lomeva refused to budge. “Do I have to transfer you out of here?” Grudgingly, she stepped aside.

There were more security guards stationed on the way to Katie’s room. They let me pass, raising weapons to make space. The door was locked when I got there, but I could hear shouting from inside. More demands as to the whereabouts of the promised officer.

“Lab coat,” I said to a doctor, who hurried to remove hers and pass it over. I slipped it on and buttoned it up — anything that looked even a little bit like a uniform would do. I tied my hair back as tight as it would go, assumed the most thunderous expression I could command, then keyed the code to enter.

Katie had really made a mess of the place — smashed equipment, fixtures ripped from the wall, the bed upended and mattress flung to one side. Two nurses and a doctor cowered in the corner, while Katie, still in her infirmary gown, hunched over the doubled up Veofol.

“What’s going on here?” I demanded.

Katie turned and saw me. And hopefully, saw I wasn’t intimidated.

“You an officer?”

I put on all the disdain I could muster. “I’m Major Singh. What are you doing out of bed?”

“You’re not in uniform.”

“I was in surgery. Or I was until I was called to deal with this disgraceful behaviour.” My tone of voice shook her confidence. Military training is always very useful when dealing with someone who isn’t listening to reason. “Stand to attention!” She jumped smartly to attention, dropping Veofol. “Now identify yourself, soldier!”

“Sergeant Designate Elsbet Carmon, sir!”

“What’s your unit?”

“Vesta 4 Holy Brigade, Attack Squadron Alpha Six!”

“What’s the last thing you remember, Sergeant?”

“Sir?”

“Answer the question!”

“Sir! I was piloting my missile towards enemy facilities on the homeworld when I encountered turbulence! I blacked out!”

“Stand easy.” She assumed the required stance. “Sergeant. This is a hospital.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re here for your own good. You will co-operate with the staff. Is that understood?”

“I understand, sir.”

“If I see any more of this kind of behaviour, there will be a court-martial. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Now get back to bed, and get well. You’ll be debriefed shortly.”

“Sir!”

“Well get on with it, then!”

She dashed back to the bed and put it back where it was supposed to be. I gave the medical staff a look, and they peeled themselves off the walls to help.

I glanced at Veofol. “Corporal. Come with me.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, and followed me outside. Once the door was closed again and we were safely out of earshot in an office, I breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed into a chair. Lomeva came in as a nurse brought us tea.

“You’re completely fucking insane,” she said, meaning it as a compliment.

I shrugged. “Soldiers usually respond to an authoritative voice. Anyway, Veofol had the idea.” He sighed as a nurse sprayed his bruised arms with analgesics.

“How do you want to deal with this?” asked Lomeva. “Given our other problem.”

“Complete lockdown on her, of course. She doesn’t leave the infirmary until we decide it’s safe.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“Hm…” I had a think. There was one very odd thing about the whole business, and it took a moment to put my finger on it. “She was speaking Interversal, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah…” said Veofol.

“So?” said Lomeva.

“So if this is a completely new personality, she shouldn’t know our language. She must have access to Katie’s memories. Or files, or whatever. Maybe Katie’s still in there as well…” And maybe she would come out again. “Okay. We play along to begin with. And then we break it to her. Very carefully. Veofol, you’ll need to debrief her.”

“Me…?”

“We need to keep the number of people involved to a minimum. She already knows you. And I’ve got the rest of the group to deal with.”

I put a hand on his shoulder. “We need to know who she is. And I don’t mean just her name. We need to know how she relates to Katie.”

“Okay.”

“This might be Dissociative Personality Disorder, and it might not. It might be a persona coming out of the implants. Just find out as much as you can.”

He nodded. He was still unnerved, but I was confident he’d be up to the task.

It was painful for Pew to talk about the past, and I had to send a nurse to find him and bring him to his next session. He came in flustered, still wearing his boots from the garden and leaving mud everywhere, trying to apologise for his lateness and then for the dirt tracks on the carpet.

“It’s all right, Pew. Just leave the boots by the door and I’ll have someone clean them for you.”

“Okay, okay, I’m really sorry—”

“That’s fine, just take a seat.”

He put his boots outside as I sent a message to the housekeeping staff to deal with them. He’d been working hard in the garden, trying to forget he had a therapy session coming up. A quick review of video showed Olivia telling him to slow down before he did himself an injury. He expected questions he didn’t want to answer, so I decided to get them out of the way first.