This is a sequel to the “Lost”-series. Click here to be taken to the last part of it, which contains links to all previous parts.
Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 of “AIOA”
The Android had asked me to wait for a bit, so she could finish preparing food for the boy. The moment she places the plate on the table, the child starts eating. I expected him to eat fast, shovel it in his mouth as if it might vanish any second, but he doesn’t. He chews slowly and cherishes every bite.
Following my gaze, the Android smiles a sad smile
”He knows that this will be his only meal today. I can’t give him more, there just isn’t much. He needs to make it last as long as possible.”
”Not everyone is in this condition, the people on the street didn’t seem this malnourished.”
”If you have enough money or just don’t care that stealing hurts others, there are many ways to get your hands on food. But every time someone takes more than they need, they hurt someone else with it. There isn’t as much food as there used to be, we’ve long left the age of abundance. One more reason to create Androids who barely need food. We’re the perfect soldiers.”
”Why didn’t they make us run on fuel? Or solar energy?” I wonder. ”With so little food available, isn’t it almost criminal to make this our food source too?”
She shakes her head.
”There is no oil anymore. And the materials to build solar panels are too expensive.”
I lean back, close my eyes and let out a deep sigh.
”This world is fucked, isn’t it.”
”With all the bees and other pollinators basically extinct? Yes. Everything is slowly dying.”
The boy finishes his dinner and gives the Android a wide grin.
”That was delicious, thanks, mom!”
It feels kind of wrong to see him referring to the Android as mom, but I guess she is his adoptive mother, in a way.
”Can I take our visitor out and play?” He asks with a pleading tone in his voice. The Android tilts her head, raises one eyebrow and looks at me.
”Do you feel up to it?” She asks. I nod.
The boy squeals happily, grabs my hand and pulls me outside. The sun is already setting and the dirt filled air is painted red by the last light of the day. In an unhealthy way, it looks beautiful.
”What do you want to play?” I ask the boy. To my surprise, he sits down.
”Tell me about the butterflies! And the bats!”
”Why?” I’m confused. ”Haven’t you seen a butterfly?” The boy shakes his head.
”They’re all dead. So are the bats and the bees and the bumblebees. Only the flies are left to pollinate stuff. They like dead animals. And dead humans.”
”Well”, I try to find some information about the animals the boy mentioned in the depths of my mind. ”Bats were mostly known for hunting insects, most people probably didn’t even realize that they were important to pollinate plants especially in the desert. Everyone was more worried about the bees.”
”Bees”, the boy echoes.
”Yes. Humans kept them to collect honey, so the honey bee was very important for more than one reason. But they were already dying before everything became as bad as it is now. Sickness, pesticides and parasites killed them off hive by hive.”
”And the butterflies?”
”They were beautiful. So fragile and so colorful. Moths were a little less colorful, but they liked to fly from flower to flower too.”
While I am talking, the boy starts looking sadder and sadder.
”I wish I could have seen them”, he whispers. I reach out and pat his head.
”Me too.”
We’re interrupted by the Android calling out for the boy. She sounds worried. Before we can get up and walk back to the house, she’s already walked up to us. Her face is the incarnation of fear.
”You have to leave”, she urges me. ”They’re looking for you. I don’t know how they were able to locate you, but they did. You need to run. Now.”
”But …”
”NOW!” She screams, takes the boy on the hand and starts running away. I’m petrified. What is happening? And then, I hear it.
Heavy boots pounding on the floor. I see them coming closer, a group of armored humans, completely dressed in black. They’re carrying guns.
And one is pointed right at me.
The human stops and aims, as I turn and start running away.
”Don’t run in a straight line. Zig zag.” I tell myself. But I was too slow.
The impact of the bullet hits me hard, but it doesn’t bury itself deeper than a few millimeters into my skin. Puzzled, I stop and reach for it.
An electrical pulse shoots through my body and throws me to my knees. What the?
Another one. It seems to come from the bullet.
Another one.
And another.
I lose my consciousness.
References:
Night Flyers: Desert Pollinator Bats
Decline of Pollinators Poses Threat to World Food Supply
First U.S. Bumblebee Officially Listed as Endangered
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