“Of course.”
“Did they act appropriately when the volcano erupted?”
“Not all of them, no. Some of them went to war over resources. That’s why there was a nuclear exchange. Even after that, some decided to delay the evacuation, over the advice of their scientists. A lot of people died.”
“Were they prosecuted?”
“Some were. Those that survived.”
“Were they convicted?”
“Yes. Well, a couple got off because they were prevented from starting the evacuation by legislatures, but most of the ones who caused unnecessary delay were found guilty. I can see where you’re going with this.”
“Does it give you satisfaction? To know they were convicted and punished?”
“It doesn’t bring anyone back.”
“How would you feel if they escaped justice?”
Professor Ebbs and the tomographer had given up trying to hide their interest. “I’d be angry. Is that the answer you were looking for?”
“Yes.”
“Your situation is different. My species has a government and judiciary. They put the leaders on trial, not the IU. The IU can’t hold those kind of hearings. We don’t interfere in internal matters.”
“Not even if millions of lives are at stake?”
“We offer help. We can’t do much if people say no.”
“Even if their governments are fools?”
“Even if.”
“And so millions die.”
“We have a non-intervention policy for a reason.”
“Yes. I know. It is very well reasoned and thought out, and the justifications make perfect sense. From the point of view of bureaucrats living comfortably on Hub.”
“I can understand you’d have a different point of view…”
“I am sure you can.”
“You’ve been through a terrible experience…”
“I simply hoped you might share my point of view. Given your own terrible experience.”
I leaned back in my chair, sighed and rubbed my temples. The Professor leaned into the mic.
“Hello Kwame. Ebbs here.”
“Professor.”
“I know it’s a bit rough and all, but at least you’ll be able to see your wife soon. Well, an image of her, at any rate.”
I glared at him. Neurologists tend, in my opinion, to assume a greater knowledge of human character than they actually possess.
“I don’t even remember what she looked like,” said Kwame.
“You won’t have that problem for much longer. I can promise you that,” said the Professor. I switched off the mic in our booth.
“Professor,” I said, shaking my head. He frowned.
“Ah. Not very tactful?”
“Not very tactful at all.”
“I do apologise…”
I switched the mic back on. “Sorry about that, Kwame. Keep your eyes on the dot.”
“I am fine,” he said. “It will be good to see her without…”
“He’s closed his eyes,” said the tomographer as half the screens flatlined.
“Do you need a break?” I asked.
“Yes. Please,” said Kwame, sitting alone with his head in his hands as the lights in the room came up.
9. Elsbet & Iokan
That evening, once I’d returned Kwame to the centre and he slept under a sedative, I noticed Iokan heading to the infirmary. I’d let the group know they could visit Elsbet if they liked, since she’d been informed of their existence, but warned them not to mention Katie. Iokan was the first to take up the offer.
He turned up at the door to her infirmary room with a bland smile, willing to help as always. “Hello,” he said.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“My name’s Iokan. I’m one of the other patients.”
“Oh. Right. You’re from another universe.” She still didn’t really believe it.
“We all are,” he said as he stepped inside and let the door close.
“And everyone on your world is dead.”
“In a manner of speaking… I suppose so, yes.”
“What, you don’t know?”
“It’s… complicated. I came here to see if there was anything I could do.”
“Wake me up?” she said with a despairing shrug.
“I can’t do that. This is all real, I’m afraid.”
“How do I know?”
“Ah! That’s a philosophical question.”
“A what?”
“An inquiry into the nature of reality?”
She looked blank. Philosophy was not a common pastime in the asteroid belt. “Yeah. I suppose so, except reality’s not answering, is it?”
“Well, you can never really prove that reality is real. There’s always the possibility it’s an illusion. But you can say that about the whole of your life. At some point, you have to accept that what you’re experiencing now is real…”
“Why should I?”
“Because otherwise you’re going to be stuck.” She sat down on her bed and folded her arms. He went on. “They’re not lying. They really are doing their best.”
“They said the Earth in my universe is gone. The machines destroyed it.”
“I think so, yes.”
“So we lost the war.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“We lost the Earth! How can we win if the homeworld’s gone?”
“Your people are still safe, aren’t they?”
“Yeah. Safe. On asteroids, in little stinking burrows, living on fucking algae and drinking water that’s been pissed so often the taste never goes away. That’s what the fucking machines did to us.”
He pulled up a chair and sat down close to the bed.
“The machines are all gone now. Your people are still alive. The others in the group… they don’t have that.”
“You believe them, do you?”
“Yes.”
“You reckon everyone on your world is dead?”
“I was there. I saw it happen.”
She looked back at him with a first flicker of sympathy.
“Our ancestors came back. They took my people with them, they took their… I suppose you’d say they took their souls. But everyone had to die first. It was terrible while it was happening, but they’re safe now, and one day I’ll see them again.” He took her hands. “One day you’ll see your people too.”
He noticed she was looking at him a little oddly. His speech had affected her somehow. Or maybe something else.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Have I seen you here before…?”
He paused, remembering the injunction not to speak of Katie. “No… you haven’t.”
She was still looking at him: wounded, lonely, in need. But reserved. She looked away.
“Elsbet…? Can I call you Elsbet?” he asked. She nodded. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No,” she said.
“I’m…” he struggled to find words. “You see, the thing is…” She looked back up at him. “I understand… well, I’m told your condition leaves you at risk of seizures.”
She nodded. “They said that.”
“There may be a way to control them.”
That was it; he was worried he’d caused Katie’s last seizure by refusing her demands. Elsbet knew none of this, and was intrigued. “How?”
He took a breath, stood up from his chair, and leaned over the bed to kiss her. She scrambled away from him.
“That’s your idea of medicine…!?” she demanded.
“I’m sorry… I thought…”
“I’m a soldier!”
He seemed puzzled. “So was I.”
“I don’t know what it’s like in your shithole of a universe, but where I come from, soldiers choose. Do you get me?”
He shook his head, still baffled.
“It means I don’t have to spend my life rutting with every fucknuts that wants a shag and making babies for the war!”