The Last Continent

that kind of fun last for hours, and whether suffocating him as kindly as possible now would save the Serial Crimes Squad a lot of trouble in years to come. Ponder, however, had hours of fun.
    Some of the creat— things in the undergrowth looked like the pages of that book. There were birds with beaks as long as their bodies. There were spiders the size of hands. Here and there the air shimmered like water. It resisted very gently as Ponder tried to walk through it, and then let him pass, but the birds and insects didn’t seem inclined to follow him.
    There were beetles everywhere.
    Eventually, by easy stages, the winding path reached the top of the mountain. There was a tiny valley there, just below the peak. At the far end was a large cave mouth, lit by a blue glow within.
    A large beetle sang past Ponder’s ear.
    The cave mouth opened into a cavern, filled with misty blue fog. There was a suggestion of complex shadows. And there were sounds—whistles, little zipping noises, the occasional thud or clang that suggested work going on somewhere in the mist.
    Ponder brushed aside a beetle that had landed on his cheek and stared at the shape right in front of him.
    It was the front half of an elephant.
    The other half of the elephant, balancing against all probability on the two legs at the rear end, stood a few yards away. In between was…the rest of the elephant.
    Ponder Stibbons told himself that if you cut an elephant in half and scooped out the middle, what you would get would be…well, mess. There wasn’t much mess here. Pink and purple tubes had uncoiled neatly on to a workbench. A small step-ladder led up into another complexity of tubes and bulky organs. There was a general feel of methodical work in progress. This wasn’t the horror of an elephant in an explosive death. This was an elephant under construction.
    Little clouds of white light spiraled in from all corners of the cavern, spun for a moment, and became the god of evolution, who was standing on the stepladder.
    He blinked at Ponder. “Oh, it’s you,” he said. “One of the pointy creatures. Can you tell me what happens when I do this?”
    He reached inside the echoing depths of the front half. The elephant’s ears flapped.
    “The ears flapped,” squeaked Ponder.
    The god emerged, beaming. “It’s amazing how difficult that is to achieve,” he said. “Anyway…what do you think of it?”
    Ponder swallowed. “It’s…very good,” he managed. He took a step back, bumped into something, and turned and looked into the gaping maw of a very large shark. It was in the middle of another…well, he had to think of it as a sort of biological scaffolding. It rolled an eye at him. Behind it, a much bigger whale was being assembled.
    “It is, isn’t it?” said the god.
    Ponder tried to concentrate on the elephant. “Although—” he said.
    “Yes?”
    “Are you sure about the wheels?”
    The god looked concerned. “You think they’re too small? Not quite suitable for the veldt?”
    “Er, probably not…”
    “It’s very hard to design an organic wheel, you know,” said the god reproachfully. “They’re little masterpieces.”
    “You don’t think just, you know, moving the legs about would be simpler?”
    “Oh, we’d never get anywhere if I just copied earlier ideas,” said the god. “Diversify and fill all niches, that’s the ticket.”
    “But is lying on your side in a mud hole with your wheels spinning a very important niche?” said Ponder.
    The god looked at him, and then stared glumly at the half-completed elephant.
    “Perhaps if I made the tires bigger?” he said, hopefully yet in a hopeless voice.
    “I don’t think so,” said Ponder.
    “Oh, you’re probably right.” The little god’s hands twitched. “I don’t know, I do try to diversify, but sometimes it’s so difficult…”
    Suddenly he ran across the crowded cave towards a huge pair of doors at the far end, and flung them open.
    “I’m sorry, but I just have to do one,” said the god. “They calm me down, you know.”
    Ponder caught up. The cave beyond the doors was bigger than this one, and brilliantly lit. The air was full of small, bright things, hovering in their millions like beads on invisible strings.
    “Beetles?” said Ponder.
    “There’s nothing like a beetle when you’re feeling depressed!” said the god. He’d stopped by a large metal desk and was feverishly opening drawers and pulling out boxes. “Can you pass me that box of