the tips of his fingers.
“The reason why you’re here, you know it, all of you: you’re survivors,” he finally answered. “Accordingly, you’re the last representatives of the human species. Leave this shelter and you will die, as sure as one and one is two. Consider that you’re all invaluable to us even if you aren’t in your self-esteem. Don’t despair. It’s understandable that you’d been deeply affected by the recent events. You’re disturbed—mentally disturbed, all of you, to some extent. I don’t say that you’re crazy, Pierre, because you’re not. But I say that you may become faster than you think. And you must admit that it would be very embarrassing for the last representatives of the human species. In this case, we would be forever unable to know what happened to you.”
“How can you ignore what happened to us?” said the woodman. “It’s by your buddies that we were bombarded, and you just come here and cry after the event. I bet you were quietly sitting in your underground shelters when our good old mother earth blew above your heads.”
“I know your theory,” Krug nodded, not disturbed at all by these charges.
“Even if Mr. Lenfant is wrong about his interpretation, as I think, the fact is that you hide us the true situation,” I said. “Perhaps because it’s worse than anything we can imagine. If we’re really so important to you, why are you so often out of the shelter?”
“You have misunderstood me. Or I misspoke. When I said you were survivors, I didn’t mean that you were the only ones. There are thousands, maybe tens of thousands of other shelters spread over the Earth’s surface. Furthermore, we receive new survivors every day. That requires a lot of organization and coordination. Let’s say I’m one of these coordinators. Admit, please, it’s a little difficult for me to be everywhere at once.
“I see what kind of organization you’re speaking of,” the woodman sneered. “In my opinion, it begins with a C as Concentration Camp and CIA.”
“You really believe we’re Americans?” Ariane inquired, a little blandly. “Do you really think that the US bombed Europe and the rest of the planet, not to mention its own lands? That would be strange. What would be their interest in the operation?”
“I say they started. Then others followed. It’s always like that it happens.”
“Really? When did it happen like that?” Krug asked, as if he was interested in learning (though I wondered if he did not make fun of him).
“Anyway, do Americans know why they do what they do? Why did they bomb Dresden? Why did they transform Nagasaki and Hiroshima into atomic mushrooms? Why did they invade Iraq? Why did they exterminate Red Men?”
“Not exterminate, but decimate,” I specified, “so that they’re no longer a potent rival for the enjoyment of the territory. Then they herded survivors in reserves and got them better treatments. A bit like us, in short.”
“Oh, you also believe we’re American, now?” Ariane asked me, a bit surprised, but without animosity.
“No, I don’t” I replied. “You know very well what I believe since you read my story.”
“Of course not,” Lussius agreed, without loosening his teeth, his eyes still gazing at doctor Krug. Except for one corner of his mouth, his face seemed paralyzed such was its tense.
“In this case, it must be the chinks,” Lenfant insisted. “Or else the Russians. Never trust those Asian bastards.”
“None of them”, I told him.
“Well, Jews then. Jews or Arabs. Or both together. Since they were longing for it, they’ve had their big one in the end.”
After heaping opprobrium on three or four continents, the irascible woodman sit back and fell silent with a sulky expression. Maybe he began to understand that his version of events did not withstand criticism.
There was a silence that was finally broken by doctor Krug.
“And you, Francesca?” he asked, still watching his hands which