The Last Supper

By T. D. Hamm

Hampered as she was by thechild in her arms, the womanwas running less fleetly now. A waveof exultation swept over Guldran,drowning out the uneasy feeling ofguilt at disobeying orders.

The instructions were mandatoryand concise: "No capture must beattempted individually. In theevent of sighting any form of humanlife, the ship MUST be notifiedimmediately. All small craftmust be back at the landing spacenot later than one hour before take-off.Anyone not so reporting will bepresumed lost."

Guldran thought uneasily of thegreat seas of snow and ice sweepinginexorably toward each othersince the Earth had reversed on itsaxis in the great catastrophe a millenniumago. Now, summer and winteralike brought paralyzing galesand blizzards, heralded by the sleetysnow in which the woman's skin-cladfeet had left the tracks whichled to discovery.

His trained anthropologist's mindspeculated avidly over the little theyhad gotten from the younger of thetwo men found nearly a week before,nearly frozen and half-starved.The older man had succumbed almostat once; the other, in the mostprimitive sign language, had indicatedthat, of several humans livingin caves to the west, only he andthe other had survived to flee somemysterious terror. Guldran felt athrob of pity for the woman and herchild, left behind by the men, nodoubt, as a hindrance.

But what a stroke of fortune thatthere should be left a male and femaleof the race to carry the seedof Terra to another planet. Andwhat a triumph if he, Guldran,should be the one to return at theeleventh hour with the prize. Noneed of calling for help. This wasno armed war-party, but the mostdefenseless being in the Universe—amother burdened with a child.

Guldran put on another burst ofspeed. His previous shouts hadserved only to spur the woman togreater efforts. Surely there wassome magic word that had survivedeven the centuries of illiteracy.Something equivalent to the "breadand salt" of all illiterate peoples.Cupping his hands to his mouth,he shouted, "Food! food!"

Ahead of him the woman turnedher head, leaped lightly in mid-stride,and went on; slowing a littlebut still running doggedly.

Guldran's pulse leaped. He yelledagain, "Food!"

The instant that his foot touchedthe yielding surface of the trap, heknew that he had met defeat. As hisbody crashed down on the fire-sharpenedstakes, he knew too theterror from which the last men ofthe human race had fled.

Above him the woman lookeddown, her teeth gleaming wolfishly.She pointed down into the pit;spoke exultantly to the child.

"Food!" said the last woman onearth.

THE END

Transcriber's Note:

This etext was produced from If Worlds of Science Fiction September 1952.Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling andtypographical errors have been corrected without note.