Noah Darwin encourage each other to loud, slapped both hands on the table to motivate himself and walked with his arms full to the last level of the submarine, casting a glance around him happy. He still did a great job so far, more than anyone in the world would have been even able to imagine having the idea.
He was recovering water from a subterranean pocket sealed with an ingenious system of pipes embedded in the rock, and had sought for weeks to install a costly filtering equipment that allowed him to regenerate its own oxygen by removing the portion that damned carbon. Everything would be almost perfect if his limited knowledge of advanced electronics had not helped repair many measuring instruments scattered on the surface and had probably been damaged upon impact, but it saved him at least to make bad blood every time he laid eyes on the dials desperately stuck on red. Certainly, he would have preferred that this huge block of stone does not come to ask a few inches from the lens of its central periscope. But it was certain that the daily sight of corpses and the general desolation that reigned in the surface would have been likely to cut his appetite, and that was again all he had left.
The triumphal reception which was right in Darwin Noah entering the barn, which occupied the entire bottom of the submarine is enough to make him smile a few moments. He patted the rump handed to him kindly Jeannine complimented length hens on the brightness of their feathers and stepped over three piglets who snored deeply to go pour the soup into the common trough plant. The place was sometimes thought of a delicious smell, the sweet smell of promiscuity was something infinitely reassuring in his eyes ... but he knew that too, should do something soon. Even if he had been careful to take along with him that animal species to which he lent some assistance in regard to its survival and gradual restocking of the planet, the patchwork of animals crowded together on others in a happy mess snatched a groan of sympathy and he remained there a few moments, prostrate, pushing ever more the idea that all this had to end one day, one way or another. The rough tongue of his Brittany Spaniel, a strong male eight years the brown coat, eventually tear it from its torpor. He stroked her head back a few seconds, jumped up and left almost regret his menagerie to return to the top floor by the hatch bobble, which he closed the heavy door behind him tight to not hear the incessant chirping of cattle. He put the container on the table, sat down and put his head between his hands, staring into space. One cat who had maliciously slid after him through the narrow scale of communication came to settle in low mewing between his knees, and stroked her absently Noah Darwin the top of the skull. It would be a cat sometimes, and not have to ask so many questions. It would be a cat for not being a human, not being responsible, somehow, if only because it was against his part of this accursed race, the greatest catastrophe ever known humanity. It would be like a cat does not have to wonder what he could find after all that, cornered like a rat on a sinking ship amid a sea of tangled corpses. Really, what a brilliant idea he had there. Sometimes, he would have preferred to die stupidly in the first few seconds of chaos, he hoped not to have been driven by this kind of stupid survival instinct that led him to believe him capable of it. And now he was the last living man on Earth. It made him look good. Brilliant, really brilliant. As bright as it could be in as high regard that he could wear his intellect, he had to go down that clearly, he had forgotten a fundamental characteristic of the evolution of mankind Adam and Eve were two. And he was all alone, like an idiot, surrounded by his menagerie on which he focused all his attention.
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