Michael Sullivan - Hollow World

“Gorgeous.”

“Maybe you can understand now why we value our artists so much.” Pax sat beside him. “And I see you’ve been introduced to the Maker.”

“Alva showed me. The omelet was great. This coffee on the other hand…” He made a face.

“I drink Frizlana—it’s a pattern of tea, but I know a great many people who like litho-roast.”

Ellis could hear the faint shouts as the game began. Several of those on balconies leaned over to watch.

“Mezos are playing the Brills this morning,” Pax said. “Each section of the community has its own team. I used to play on the Mezos about…sixty years ago, I guess. We were never very good. Lost almost every game. People still cheered for us.” Pax sighed. “I’m sorry I abandoned you last night. I felt awful. Didn’t get much sleep.”

“I’m sorry I upset you.”

Pax stared at him with that same bewildered expression. “You are just so…”

Ellis braced himself. He was expecting irritating or frustrating. Those were the words Peggy and his mother had used most often, and Warren had dubbed him an asshole most of the time and a prick on occasion.

“…just so amazing. I wish I could be like you.”

Certain that Pax was joking, he laughed. Pax didn’t laugh with him, and, realizing Warren had been right about him being an ass, he stopped. “I’m a miserable old man who’s dying of an incurable sickness. You don’t want to be me.”

“Are you joking again? I can’t always be sure, you know. Your humor is so…unusual. You must be, though, because…because, well look at you. You’re unique—truly unique. You have hair—and it’s two colors. Your skin sags, and has all those great creases, like a beloved knapsack that has been taken everywhere and shows evidence of every mile. No one else has that. And no one else has invented a time machine and ridden it two thousand years into the future or saved someone else’s life by stopping a murderer. But…it’s more than that. It’s you. The way you act. The way you don’t just look, but actually see—see things everyone else misses. The wear marks of glasses and…well… me . I feel special just being with you. It’s a gift you have, this ability to hand out inspiration and kindness without any trace of motive. You’re amazing.”

Pax’s eyes had that glassy, wide-eyed appearance again. “In Hollow World we all try to be different, try to stand out as original, but only you truly are.”

No one had ever looked at him that way before. No one had ever accused him of being amazing, not even when he had opened his acceptance letter to M.I.T. There had been pats on the back and congratulations, but not even his own mother had showed such awe. Ellis didn’t know what to do or say. He took a long sip from his coffee cup and discovered he had a little trouble swallowing.

“I realized last night I shouldn’t be keeping you here,” Pax went on. “I should make certain the GWC knows about the killings and about you. I’m sure they will have all sorts of questions, and they will take you to the ISP to fix your health.”

“You think they could?”

“The ISP can do just about anything except bring you back from the dead, and you can be certain they’re busy working on that. If it’s only your lungs, they’ll just outfit you with a new pair. That sort of thing is no big deal, just a port-in procedure.”

“Seriously? Oh…ah…what about cost?” Ellis knew Pax said there wasn’t money anymore, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be a cost.

“Cost?”

“What would I have to do or give to get these new lungs?”

“See—I can’t really tell if that’s a joke. You don’t even smile when you say it.”

“That’s because I’m not joking. I want to know what will be demanded of me in return. I don’t want to agree to anything without knowing what I’m getting into first.”

Pax laughed. “Ellis Rogers, no one would ever demand compensation to keep people alive . You make us sound like monsters, as if people wouldn’t help others unless they got something out of it.”

Ellis thought to argue, to point out how competition kept a society strong, how altruism could lead to resentment. He felt he needed to defend the system he’d grown up in, only he couldn’t figure out why. It also wasn’t in his best interest, since all he had were a pair of diamond earrings and a few expensive rings he had forgotten to leave behind, none of which appeared to have any value in that world.

“I’ll take you to Pol as soon as you’re ready.”

“What will happen then?”

“You’ll be introduced to the Council, I assume. Lots of questions. Then I suspect you’ll be introduced into society, and you’ll no doubt become a very big celebrity. I can’t imagine anyone in Hollow World not completely bleezing when they hear about you.”

Ellis had no idea what that meant, but if it was related to being pleased, he didn’t share the opinion. So far only Pax had shown any sort of pleasure at his existence. “I don’t know what bleezing means, but I doubt Vin did it.”

“Vin is…” Pax squinted in an effort to think.

“Used to being the unique one?”

“Exactly.”

Ellis glanced out at the view again. The falselight sun was completely above the horizon, and the vast atrium was filled with what reminded Ellis of a bright, clear, autumn sort of light. He wondered if they had seasons. “Will I be coming back here afterward?”

“Pol will likely invite you to stay in Wegener.”

“What’s that?”

“I guess you could call it the chief city of Hollow World. It’s on the Antarctic Plate in the Kerguelen micro continent. Each plate has its own center, and most are bigger, but each plate sends a representative to Wegener. Some of the best artists work there, so it’s one of the most beautiful places in Hollow World.”

“It’s awfully beautiful right here,” Ellis said, continuing to look out over the balcony.

The conversation held a tone of solemn finality. Maybe there was some truth to the idea that Ellis could see what others couldn’t. The way Pax had come out that morning, so quiet and with such a soft tone of voice—apologetic, embarrassed even. The admission of admiration had borne all the openness of a deathbed farewell. Even if Pax refused to admit it, Ellis understood this was the last time they would be together. This conversation was goodbye.

Ellis felt a distinct sinking sensation, a general depression that settled over him, making it difficult to breathe, much the same way as the fibrosis. Pax and Alva were his only friends in this strange new world, and the idea of separating from them was just so painful—and ironic, he realized, as he’d just abandoned a whole existence, giving precious little thought to those he left behind. He had sacrificed Peggy and Warren, rolling the dice on a better trade. But that was before he knew what the future held, or so he told himself. So far everyone else he’d met hadn’t been very welcoming. He and Pax had shared a life-and-death moment that left a mark and made him feel they were connected.

And then there was just plain old traditional paranoia. He worried about Pax’s safety.

“You said you never met him, right?” Ellis asked.

“Pol? No. I’m an arbitrator, and I’ve never been a Council member or—”

“I meant Geo-24.”

“Oh—no. Well, it’s possible. I met a geomancer at a Miracles Day party once.”

“When?”

“Maybe a year ago.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t remember. Like anyone, I was just excited to actually speak to a geomancer, you know? They so infrequently appear in public. I think the encounter only lasted a few minutes. Just some small talk. I probably asked a bunch of stupid questions, like anyone would. What it’s like being a geomancer. Stuff like that.”