She sighed. “Eventually they decided I’d be better off with foster parents who had powers. That’s why I was placed with Keff and Seelie. Seelie was a full-time adventurer, she was too strong and tough for me to hurt and Keff had this poison touch thing, he could give you drugs through your skin, so he could calm me down if I was having a tantrum. He never liked doing it, he used to be a bad guy but then he met Seelie and, well, that’s ancient history, I guess.”
“But they were good for you?”
“The best. They were great. They…”
Tears came suddenly. I passed her a tissue.
“Shit, sorry, I just, sometimes I remember all of a sudden…”
“It’s natural, Liss. You have to cry about these things.”
“Yeah.” She wiped her eyes and looked down at the floor.
“So did you still have problems at school?”
“Oh, all the time. I didn’t get placed with Keff and Seelie until I was nine and I must have been hell for them for a couple of years, but they kind of tamed me, I suppose. And then the other kids started getting their powers, and that was it, I wasn’t special any more.”
“That must have been difficult.”
“Yeah… I ended up being the mousy kid with hardly any friends. Everyone forgot about me and… I just stopped doing all that stuff. I pretended I was normal. I went from hitting people all the time to never doing anything. Until I went to college and met Yott. Even then I wasn’t really special.”
“But you still saved the world…”
“Yeah, I guess. Didn’t do me any good. Me and Yott joined the PRG but he was the one they really wanted. We had the same agent and you could just see it in her face. I was only there to keep him out of trouble, which usually meant taking a beating while he finished wiring up whatever machine we needed to save the city or whatever we were doing that day. And then when he worked out his armour he didn’t need me any more. Great boyfriend he turned out to be…”
“There’s always a few more.”
“Not from my species.”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“So I tried making it in one of those little City Patrol teams but they never had any money. I could have gone corporate, I suppose. But everyone knew I wasn’t any good at it. So I gave it up…”
“What did you do then?”
“Unemployment. I had to move back in with Keff and Seelie for a while. God knows what I would have done without them. That made me feel even worse.”
“How did you get out of it?”
“I got lucky. Somebody let an AI virus loose on the infonet and it ate all the other AIs. So we ended up with half the computers in the world not working any more and having to get humans to do everything. Like the helpline for adventurers — the call centre, you know? You could call up and get legal help or they could give you tactical advice if you were in a tight spot. It was done with an AI before but all of a sudden they were hiring. I had some customer service experience out of all the crap jobs I did and of course I had the adventuring experience… I thought it’d be a disaster, but the money was okay, so…”
“Was it a disaster?”
“Not so much. Turned out to be a lot easier when I wasn’t actually there. You know, without all the stress and ‘am I going to get turned to dogmeat if I put my head up’, kind of thing. I’m better at all the paperwork and admin side anyway. Eventually I got promoted out of there into another department. Had my own team. Had a good income. Had my own place. Couldn’t hang on to a man but you can’t have everything.” Her face turned down. “Or anything at all, now…”
“If it’s a man you’re after, there’s a few of them knocking around.”
“Not much good if he’s not my species.”
“I was dating a man from another species.”
“Oh… was it Veofol?”
I couldn’t speak for a moment. My mind froze. Liss realised she’d said the wrong thing.
“Oh, shit. Sorry…”
I found my voice again. “It wasn’t him. It was someone else.”
“What happened?”
I had to pause a moment. “He left after the attack. He’s gone.” She nodded, clearly mortified. “It’s okay, Liss. You didn’t know.”
“Well, uh… I guess there’s plenty more out there for you? Right?”
“One day,” I agreed. “And for you as well.”
“Huh.” She considered it for a moment, then frowned. “And they let you do that? I mean with other species?”
I smiled. “Sure. You can get a medical test to see who you might be compatible with.”
“Last thing I want is to get pregnant…”
“That’s unlikely, given the medical issues. But you might still want the test. For, uh, compatibility. So you don’t have any surprises.”
She looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“Not every species is built the same way.”
She realised. “Oh…”
“It’s a good idea to get the test. Just in case.”
“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.
11. Asha
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.”
12. Iokan
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.
PART TWELVE — GENOCIDE
1. Group
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?”
“We’re talking about you, not to you,” said Olivia.
“Ohhhh,” said Iokan, amused, then went back to his personal world.
“You all need support from the group, Olivia,” I said. “Iokan’s no different.”
“Could’ve fooled me…”
“Getting back to the subject,” I said, “I think what we need, and what we’ve been missing, are group activities. I know you all enjoyed yourselves when we went to the activity centre. How would everyone feel about doing something similar in the near future?”
Pew still seemed to be in a sulk. “Like what?” he said.
“Well, that’s up to you. We could go to another centre, or use the facilities here. Or you can come up with something yourselves. It doesn’t have to be a big expedition, you could just as easily be playing a boardgame, as long as we can get everyone involved. So. Ideas?”
Silence came down for a moment. Nobody wanted to be the first. Iokan would normally have jumped right in, but today he seemed oblivious. I noticed Katie’s hand twitching. She either had an idea, or a need to speak to control her tremors. “Katie, do you have something?”
“We could engage in wargames.”
“Can you explain that a little further?”
“Wargames are designed to develop tactical, strategic and combat skills but also to foster emotional bonds between members of a unit where such bonds are critical to efficiency. I have taken part in several such scenarios. On day 156 of Adjusted Terran Year 280, I led an assault squad in a simulated attack on a section of our station at the Earth-Sun L2 point. Our squad lost only one individual and we were better able to resist the enemy during the attack on the Earth-Moon L5 station.”
She finished to silence from the group, with her hand back under control. Kwame eventually cleared his throat. “Do you mean to say that one of you died?”
“Yes. Weapons fire was moderated but still dangerous. The experience allowed the squad to feel the loss of a comrade and better withstand emotional impacts during later conflicts.”
“Yes, I understand, but… I do not think it would be wise to let anyone here die. I have also taken part in military exercises. They are dangerous but no more so than ordinary training…”
A frown struck Katie. “Yes. You are correct. My suggestion is inappropriate.”
“It’s okay, Katie, the contribution’s welcome,” I said. “Perhaps we could have something similar but a little less dangerous. Kwame? Do you have any suggestions?”
He looked morose. “No. I have no suggestions.”
“Iokan? You’ve been very quiet. Any ideas?”
Iokan turned from his contemplation and smiled at the group. “You could join with me.”
Liss looked suspicious. “What does that mean…?”
“I’ll be going with the Antecessors soon. You could join me. You would all be welcome.”
Silence and stares met his welcoming smile.
“I wish to join you,” said Katie.
/> “No,” I said. “That’s not an option. Iokan’s the only one who’s been invited to that meeting. I’m sorry but that isn’t going to change. Liss, do you have any ideas?”
“I dunno,” she shrugged, “I guess we could do something touristy. There’s gotta be some tourist stuff on Hub, right?”
“There’s a number of things,” I said. “Can you give us anything more specific?”
She shrugged again. “I haven’t seen much of Hub. I don’t know, what’s good?”
“There’s a lovely padded cell right in the middle of Hub Metro,” said Olivia.
Katie twitched. Her legs juddered and the mohib suit cut in to restrain her.
“Katie? Are you all right?” I asked.
“I would like to inspect the Agvarterheer Column,” said Katie, struggling again to control herself. “I understand it was constructed one hundred and twenty six years ago as a gift from the Khragarar species to the Interversal Union. It contains twenty five point three two kilotons of ultratensile carbofilamentary material in the central anchor column that binds the ground station to the geostationary orbital counterweight. Four elevator strands are strung alongside the central column and each has a capacity of three hundred tons of mass for each journey or four thousand standard humans in the passenger lifts. The journey takes between six hours and three days depending upon the ability of the cargo or passengers to withstand acceleration.”
She looked at me as her tremors subsided. “I am well. Thank you.”
“Okay, we could certainly take a look at the space elevator. That’s good. Anyone else?”
“There’s somewhere I want to go,” said Pew, sounding too serious for my liking.
“Go on,” I said.
“The memorial.”
“For the attack?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. What does everyone else think?”
“Is it even finished yet?” asked Liss.
Katie’s tremor started again. “The projected completion date for the full memorial is one hundred and twenty three days from the present time. It will be a garden based around the previously laid memorial stone, with holographic interfaces for each of the victims of the attack which will float across the site and permit access to information about each of them. The gathering of information is presently under way and contributions are sought from close friends and family members of the victims—”
The Last Man on Earth Club Page 45
