Michael Sullivan - Hollow World

Wat focused on the wall images again, which were superimposed on a sailboat that had appeared on the horizon and was coasting through Ellis’s organs. “Your liver was weakening, so you got a new one, as well as a new spleen, pancreas, kidneys, bladder, gallbladder, stomach, and a full set of intestines—large and small. The old ones were torn up and clogging as if you’d been eating glass and gravel for the last few years. You weren’t, I hope.” Wat offered another happy smile. Too happy. The doctor reminded Ellis of a puppy greeting a new visitor.

“And…” Wat punched a few more screens. “Oh, you have new eyes. Old lenses were getting thicker, less transparent, and less elastic, the pupils shrinking.”

Ellis was shocked and found himself involuntarily blinking.

“Ciliary ligaments and muscles were weakening too. Your ears were fine, though, as far as we could tell, and we didn’t bother with the skin either—didn’t think you’d like to wake up looking like me.” Wat laughed high and giddy, like a schoolgirl at a teen-idol concert.

“And…oh! You were inoculated for disease. Turns out you died of extemdiousness , or double-D disease, as it was once called. One of the old designer viruses that still lingers. Looks like it was racing your fibrosis to see which could collapse your ventricle walls first. Not much of a race, really. The pulmonary fibrosis didn’t stand a chance against a virus built to kill people. The extemdiousness is what took you down. Nasty bug. Highly contagious and aggressive, it incubates for a few days then attacks multiple systems at once, killing quickly. You drop dead without warning—hence the name. Hard to believe there was ever a time when people created these things on purpose.” Wat closed the screen, leaving them once again in the unblemished serenity of the island beach. “And that’s it.”

Wat turned around with a pleased look. “You should feel a whole lot better. I would take it slow to begin with, just as a precaution. You want to get accustomed to the new organs. Let them ramp up to speed. So, don’t actually try running that marathon I talked about…for at least a few weeks. Also, you’re going to experience a day or two of fatigue. Despite the boosters, your body has gone through a really big shock, and it will take a while to adjust. You’ll be normal in a week. Just get plenty of rest, and…” Wat stepped closer, staring for a long moment. “I just want to say what an honor it has been to work on you. I heard—we all heard—the rumors, and saw the grams, but when Pol-789 brought you in, everyone’s chin just hit the floor. It was just…” Wat choked up, took a deep breath, and blinked repeatedly. “I’m sorry. I told myself I wouldn’t cry, but—” Wat took a second and then said, “I swear, you’re the fourth miracle. You really are.”

“How long will I be here?”

“As long as you want.”

“I mean, how long before I can leave?”

“Oh—” That nervous laugh again. “You can leave whenever you like. But I hope you aren’t in a hurry. A lot of people would love to meet you. Well, we’ve all sort of met you, but it wasn’t you, was it? Not really. You were mostly dead at the time.”

Ellis turned on his side and pushed up. He felt fine. He took a deep breath—better than fine. He took another, a deeper one. The air just flowed in—no resistance at all, no coughing fit. As the blanket fell away, he looked for scars. Nothing. Still the same old chest with salt-and-pepper hair and skin that was losing its elasticity.

“The Chief Councilor, Pol-789, is waiting to see you.”

“Do I still have clothes?”

“Oh yes—of course. Maude, tell Mak to bring Ellis Rogers’s things in here.”

An instant later a portal popped and another naked citizen of Hollow World entered with Ellis’s backpack and a bundle. Through the portal opening, Ellis spotted a small crowd peering through. Mak looked more starstruck than Wat had been and froze upon entering. Wat had to pull the backpack and clothes away and place them on the bed. His shirt and pants had been cleaned and folded.

“I—” Mak began, then simply stepped back through the portal.

“What can we say?” Wat grinned. “You’re a sensation.”

Like a hospital or an airport, the ISP was a massive world unto itself, but designed with the aesthetic of an investment-rich start-up wanting to foster a creative environment. Rex, who looked just like Wat, but was introduced to Ellis as one of the administrators of the ISP, took him on a tour of vast atriums, courtyards, and playrooms filled with everything from normal-looking chessboards to holo-chambers with green and red lights indicating if they were in use. He wondered if any of them understood the origin of those colors. They walked past labs and through corridors, which Ellis thought had been built either before the portal was invented or were used in an emergency in case Port-a-Call units failed. He also saw his first portal booths, hulking leftovers from days before Net Azo’s bloodless rebellion. Several people still used them.

“Their destinations are locked in place now,” Rex explained. “If you’re going back and forth, it’s easier to just walk through rather than having to dial, especially if your hands are full. A lot of us don’t even use our POCs here.”

The central feature of the institute was what they called the Grand Cathedral, rather ironic for a world that no longer practiced religion. A domed space bigger than a football stadium, it was the central campus, the gathering place of ISP associates. White columns rose to a ceiling that did not impersonate the sky, but rather displayed an art show of light and color that slowly changed in pattern and design. The floor was divided into sections raised to different elevations, with the lowest filled with a decorative set of shallow, circular pools that spilled in a series of waterfalls. The edges of the pools were seating areas bordered by brilliant, tropical flowers.

“I think it would be cruel to deny Ellis Rogers such a small thing,” Pol was saying as they moved through the Grand Cathedral. Ellis was being treated like a superstar, and Pol was just one in his entourage. Rex had introduced him to no fewer than a hundred people since he’d woken up. He couldn’t hope to remember who they all were, especially since the ISP dress code appeared to demand unmarked nudity, and everyone was officially defined as an ISP associate, even Rex. They all orbited around Ellis, a constant swarm of identical grinning faces.

“It’s not a small thing. Creating a human being is never a small thing,” Rex insisted. “There are many issues—policies—such as the population cap.”

“There have been two recent deaths that aren’t yet accounted for.”

“But females from the old pattern…” Rex looked sheepishly at Ellis. “Ah—I don’t want to sound…well, we don’t like going backward, and this would open the door for random conceptions. You’re speaking of introducing a whole new subset of people.”

“We understand that, but Ellis Rogers’s intention is to live on the surface.”

“HEM won’t like that.”

“But they also won’t protest too much,” Pol said. “After all, this is Ellis Rogers we are talking about.”

Pol had been there when Ellis woke up. According to Wat, Pol had never left. The Chief Councilor, Dex, and another unidentified member of Hollow World had carried Ellis into the ISP, and while the others had come and gone, Pol had remained steadfast. The Chief Councilor was the first person Ellis saw that he knew, and since his recovery Pol had never left his side.