The Last Man on Earth Club

by Paul R. Hardy

  The entrance rippled again, and the Mediator returned. He blinked a little as his eyes adjusted to the darker setting, then said: “The other party has arrived. Are you ready for the meeting, Ms. Li’Oul?”

  She stood up from the side of the fountain and nodded.

  “You may wish to anonymise yourself.”

  “Okay. Got it.” She fiddled with a pad and a blur mask jumped up in front of her face, contouring a couple of centimetres around her features.

  “I shall refer to you as Ms. Doe, to further preserve your anonymity.”

  “Uh, okay.”

  The Mediator nodded, satisfied. “Very well. I’ll call him in.” Whatever signal he sent, Liss did not see it. A few seconds later, the Quillian consular official entered: a short man whose manner was older than he looked. His smile as he saw her was polite, warm, but well practiced. Something worn professionally.

  “Mr. Vawlin, may I present Ms. Doe, who is under the care of the Refugee Service.” Vawlin bowed. “Madame, this is Mr. Telliniad Vawlin of the Quillian Embassy to the Interversal Union.” Liss did her best to copy Vawlin’s bow, looking a little embarrassed.

  “It is a condition of this meeting that I remain present.” said the Mediator. I’d insisted that someone be there for security reasons, along with guards who could be summoned at a moment’s notice. As much as I wanted to give Liss this chance, I couldn’t leave her unsupervised in this kind of situation. “However, I am not required to act as a mediator unless either of you wish it.”

  “If Ms. Doe consents?” asked Vawlin.

  “I’m fine,” shrugged Liss.

  “Then I shall refrain from further comment,” said the Mediator. “Please, begin.”

  Liss took a deep breath. “Hi!”

  “Hello,” said Vawlin. “Shall we sit?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” They sat by the fountain, while the Mediator went to a chair on the far side of the room and let them get on with it.

  “Firstly, please accept my apologies for my lateness. We’ve been extraordinarily busy in the last few days…”

  “Oh, sure, it’s been kinda crazy everywhere, huh?”

  “Yes, yes it has. We’re loaning a number of spacecraft to the IU to help with the evacuation, and anything else we can find that might help.”

  “That’s kinda cool.”

  “We do what we can. So I understand you believe you may be a member of my species?”

  “Uh. Yeah, I guess.”

  “Can I ask how you came to that conclusion?”

  “Oh, they said I could have a test to see if I was, you know, compatible for, uh, having kids with other species, and it came back Quillian.”

  “Something of a surprise, I take it?”

  “You can say that again. Does this happen a lot?”

  “It does come up occasionally. We’re a very well travelled species.”

  “So you go to other universes all the time?”

  “Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

  “I mean, I heard about that Ilfenard thing…”

  His face fell into regret. “Yes. A terrible crime. We had a major social collapse a couple of thousand years ago, and when we rediscovered how to travel to other universes, we found our ancestors had committed monstrous crimes on many worlds. We’ve been trying to put them right ever since. It’s another reason why we’re doing everything we can to help with the evacuation. But there was nothing we could do for Ilfenard, except warn others not to take the same path.”

  There was something rehearsed about his speech; he’d said this before, many times. But that was probably only to be expected.

  “Uh-huh. So how do people get stuck on different worlds?”

  “Well, we undertake a good many scientific surveys, often on worlds too undeveloped to contact directly. We have teams on the surface, disguised as priests, or surveyors, or telemarketers, or whatever’s appropriate. But things can go wrong, I’m afraid. People sometimes get left behind.”

  “Do you take your kids along as well?”

  “For major surveys, yes. It’s not fair on either the children or the parents to have them separated.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Can I ask you a little about your world?”

  “Oh, uh… just an ordinary place, I guess.” She shrugged. “Well, it was before it all went wrong and we had to leave, which is how I ended up here. Uh, there’s one thing I wanted to ask…”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, I always knew I was different, you know? I mean, really different.”

  “In what way?”

  “I, uh… I mean I’m different. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “I’m stronger, I’m tougher, I’m faster, I don’t get sick… the doctors said I was some kinda genetic abnormality…”

  Vawlin nodded with a smile. “It may be your heritage. If you are Quillian.”

  “You mean we’re all like this…?”

  “I think you’ll find a number of more developed species have adjusted their genomes. The kind of differences you’re talking about are quite simple ones to implement.”

  “Simple. Wow.”

  “Certainly. Did you discover any other abilities?”

  “I can see pretty well.”

  “Can you see things other people can’t?”

  “Yeah! Like flowers, you see pictures on a screen and they look all dull and boring but if you look at the actual flowers they’ve got spots and bands on them and nobody else can see it…”

  Vawlin nodded again. “We usually have our sight extended into the infra-red and ultraviolet. The markings on the flowers are what, say, a pollinating insect might see. But most humans can’t. You may also have a very long life.”

  “Really?”

  “Several hundred years. We generally settle on an adult form in our mid twenties and stay that way for a very long time. I myself am two hundred and seventy three years old.”

  “No!”

  “And therefore I have no idea how old you are.”

  “Oh, um, not that old…”

  “Well. I can’t confirm you’re a member of my species, not right away. We have to do some background checks first.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’ll accept the IU’s analysis of your genome, of course, but we would like it done again, just to be sure.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And we will need to know something about the world you’ve been on all this time, so we can match it against our list of missing persons.”

  “Right.”

  “And if we can find any relatives, of course, we can make doubly sure. I understand you’re very interested in finding your parents.”

  Liss’s smile subsided and she seemed more serious. “Yes.”

  The Mediator noticed the sudden change in her voice. He’d spent his time politely studying the night sky, but now he looked back down at Liss. Vawlin noticed it too. “I’m sure they didn’t abandon you. Sometimes things can… well, things can happen.”

  Liss nodded.

  “I don’t want to promise anything. It’s possible they might have died in the years since.”

  “I know.”

  “Well—”

  “What kind of worlds do you go to?”

  The question took him by surprise. “Many kinds. I was going to ask you about your world. The one you grew up on. I would imagine that if you’re here, something bad happened.”

  “You could say that.”

  “Was there an evacuation?”

  “Kinda, yeah.”

  “Can you tell me about your world?” Liss didn’t answer for a moment. Vawlin looked utterly sympathetic, and put a hand on hers. “It could help us a lot in finding your family.”

  The Mediator watched, sensing tension. Vawlin went on. “I know it must have been a terrible experience to see the end of the world you grew up on. But if you really are one of us… I promise you: we won’t let you down. You’ll be part of a species again.
You’ll have a world to call home. Whatever happened on that world… you can put it behind you. You can be one of us.”

  Behind the blur mask, Liss’s eyes hardened.

  “But first you need to tell me something about your world.”

  There was a moment of silence before she replied. “You want me to tell you about my world…?”

  He couldn’t see the dagger-stare of her eyes, and made the obvious assumption: she’d been traumatised by whatever apocalypse she’d survived. So he let her have her moment, and did a perfect job of looking sympathetic.

  “Okay. I’ll tell you about my world.” Vawlin missed the dangerous tone in her voice. The Mediator didn’t, and narrowed his eyes.

  “Thank you,” said Vawlin.

  “It was… primitive. I guess you’d call it that.”

  “We usually prefer ‘less developed’,” he said with a reassuring smile that had no effect on her at all.

  “Everything was wrong.”

  “What about it was wrong?”

  “A lot of people there were special. Special like I was. But they were natives. Stronger than me. Faster than me. Tougher than me. Smarter than me. Some of them were so smart they went mad. They built insane machines for no reason. Released viruses that destroyed livestock and crops. Turned mountains into volcanoes. It was all in the name of science, do you understand me?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I do.”

  “People had powers. They used their powers for all kinds of things. For themselves. For the good of humanity. To kill people. To fight crime.

  “I fought crime. But it didn’t do any good. It kept getting worse. We lost the infonet. We lost all our food crops. We lost the moon!

  “Do you know what else we lost? Calafaria. In the volcanoes. That’s where my parents were keeping me, that’s where the Quillians lived while they were dong their surveys, wasn’t it?”

  “I really don’t know without—”

  “And it was all in the name of science, yeah? The way everyone on my world was special?”

  “I don’t know what it is you’re implying—”

  “Do you know what happened to them all? All the people on my world? My friends? My real parents, the ones who raised me after I was abandoned?”

  Vawlin listened, suddenly aware of a trap. The Mediator saw it, too, and said: “Ms. Doe, are you sure you wish to continue—”

  But Liss ignored him. “They all died. At the same time. They burnt to ash, all at the same time. Somebody used their DNA to kill them. Somebody put a deathtrap in their genome. Somebody gave them powers so they could experiment on them and put in a way to hide their tracks. But it didn’t get me. Because I’m one of you. Do you understand me?”

  Vawlin’s jaw wobbled. He didn’t understand, to begin with. Then his eyes went wide for a moment.

  He shot to his feet and the diplomatic mask slammed shut.

  “This meeting can serve no further purpose.”

  “Security,” said the Mediator. Liss jumped at him.

  Vawlin barely had time to see what happened before she had the Mediator by the neck and groin, making him gasp. She lifted him above her head, hardly noticing his weight, as two guards in power armour ran through the ripple of air into the room, weapons already raised and pointing at her.

  She flung the Mediator at them, absorbing the stun bolts they fired at her, then knocking them down as he crashed into them. They pushed his dead weight off, but she was already on them, ripping off their helmets, crushing their weapons and banging their heads against the fake stone floor before they could do anything else.

  Vawlin gasped, finding her between him and the exit, with no one to protect him. The blur mask stayed on her face, and her posture was all he could read: legs apart, still tensed and ready to fight.

  “You’re under arrest,” she said.

  He was incredulous. “What…?”

  “By the powers granted me in the One World Accord of NR 643, I detain you as a material witness to the crime of genocide. You have the right to silence but may be subject to neural interrogation under circumstances outlined in paragraph ten subsection three of the Emergency Powers Annex, which most certainly fucking applies in this case!”

  He gaped. “You’re insane!”

  “If you cannot supply an advocate of your own choosing the court will supply one for you except, oh yeah, they’re all fucking dead!”

  He tried to rush past her but she whipped him round and pulled his arm behind his back. He was strong, but she had the edge of training and desperation.

  “You — don’t have — jurisdiction!” he gasped.

  “Call it a citizen’s arrest if you like.”

  “This is assault!”

  “This is justice.”

  “What do you want…?”

  She jerked him back and he gasped as she shouted in his ear. “Three billion people are dead!”

  “How do you — what do you think you can do?”

  She gritted her teeth.

  “What are you going to do with me?”

  She didn’t have an answer.

  “They’ll send more security… You have to let me go! I understand… I understand you’re upset, you’re traumatised, I will not press charges!”

  “You know, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know anything!”

  “I saw it in your eyes.”

  “Please, what do you want?”

  “I want the truth!”

  Instead, they both heard a gentle hissing sound. “What’s that?” she demanded.

  “Tranquilliser gas… if we’re the same species… should work the same…”

  “I can hold my breath.”

  “Please… give yourself up…”

  But it was too late. The first wave of grogginess hit them both.

  “Oh fuck. Skin absorption?” she muttered, disgusted. They sank to their knees. She released her hold, but he found he lacked the strength to crawl away, and collapsed. Liss held out a little longer.

  “Vawlin…” she murmured with a hoarse voice. He looked around, barely conscious. “Give my parents a message.”

  He stared back at her.

  “Tell them they’re dead to me,” she said, as she fell forward.

  He didn’t nod. He didn’t have a response. He just looked back at her with the eyes of a shocked animal, until they closed and blackness took him.

  13. Henni Ardassian

  I was on my way to pick Liss up when I was ordered to present myself at Henni Ardassian’s office instead. Liss was being held by the Diplomatic Service security section, and I got the basic details of what happened from Mykl Teoth while my car whisked me through the streets to the gold and silver castle of the Refugee Service HQ.

  Henni didn’t get up when I went in. She had a look of barely controlled exasperation. She drummed her fingers and watched me sit down, like a cat allowing a mouse to take a seat before pouncing. She didn’t pounce, though. Instead, she stroked a control and brought up two images on the screen behind her: an official spokeswoman from the Quillian Embassy, and the text of a letter of complaint below the Quillian Supranational Government crest on the right. Henni let the video begin part of the way through.

  “—object most strenuously to this premeditated entrapment of one of our officials who was acting in a purely humanitarian capacity. We are particularly unhappy that this has happened while we are preparing to place enormous material resources at the disposal of the Refugee Service. We therefore demand an apology and explanation for this incident and expect your reply within forty eight hours.”

  Henni paused the spokeswoman at the moment she finished, still with a look of official displeasure printed on her face. Henni’s own look of displeasure was greater, if anything.

  “Did you know about this?”

  I shook my head. “She wanted to find out about her parents…”

  “And that’s what she told you.”

  “Yes.”


  “And you believed her?”

  “I had no reason not to.”

  “After all the lies she told before? Are you out of your mind?”

  “I judged—”

  “I don’t give a damn for your judgement! Did you hear what they said? That’s diplomatic language for ‘We’re incredibly pissed off and we’re going to throw our toys out of the stroller if you don’t do what we say.’ Your judgement might cost us sixty ships we could have used in the evacuation! And pilots to go with them! And doctors, and medical supplies! They could save a million people all by themselves!”

  “They wouldn’t do that—”

  “Oh, wouldn’t they? Would you like to take that risk? Would you like to leave a million people to die?”

  “They can’t!”

  “Are you sure? Really? Well I’ll just call and tell them to jump in a lake. Shall we see what happens?”

  “But they’d look — I mean, people would think—”

  “You reckon they want people to think they committed genocide?”

  “No, of course not, but—”

  “Well I can’t take the risk. I need those ships. And I don’t have any more time for your experiment, nor do I have the resources. I’m transferring you to the triage team on the Lift. You can do some good up there rather than giving me grief down here.”

  I paused a moment. “I won’t leave them.”

  “You can have a week to hand over to another therapist.”

  I tried to find some steel to put in my voice. “I arranged for entirely adequate supervision. It was the Quillians who insisted on meeting at the Negotiation Centre. What happened was not my fault. I will not abandon my patients and you can’t force me.”

  “I can put you on indefinite medical leave.”

  My gut clenched. “What…?”

  “You’ve already put in the request for leave of absence for medical reasons. Now I can see why. Your lack of judgement has led to serious embarrassment for this service. So you can go away and make yourself better and take as much time as you like doing it, or you can go to the Lift and do your job. Any questions? No. Now get out of my sight. Mykl will arrange for another therapist to take the group. I don’t care who. Talk to him about the handover.”