Текст книги "Hollow World"

Автор книги: Michael J. Sullivan

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Dex’s face scrunched up miserably. Bad news was coming. “I tried again, but the ISP refuses to grant me access to the patterns and development labs.”

“Pol?” Warren said. “As Chief Councilor, can’t you do something to fix that?”

“Not really. Hollow World doesn’t—well, you know—work like Firestone Farm. I have more authority here than there. I can guide and suggest, but I can’t compel anyone to do anything. Policy decisions like that are made by a general vote. Even then, the ISP can ignore it if they want to. People just don’t take orders in Hollow World—because they don’t have to. But that’s where Ellis Rogers can help us.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” Pol said, looking over at Warren, who picked up his drink and motioned for Pol to continue. “You might not know it, but you’re a celebrity status.”

“Huh?” A mosquito had entered one of the windows and was buzzing around Ellis’s head near his left ear. The pest, the faint flickering light, and the heat were all aggravating. How did people ever live like this?

“Your appearance in Wegener caused a riot—not literally, of course, but people have been sonic—ah, excited—since they spotted you. Grams have circulated everywhere. There’s all sorts of inquiries going on. People want to know about the Darwin sighting. Most think you’re a hoax, a joke of some kind, maybe some sort of street theater or an interactive art exhibit. Everyone is waiting for the next sighting.”

“Why are they so shocked?”

“No one has ever proved a Darwin exists.”

Ellis pointed at Warren. Pol smiled. “We keep Ren a secret, at his request.”

“Meaning I’d kill the bastard who betrayed me.” Warren took a second to eye each of them with a cold stare.

“I can see now the wisdom of his decision,” Pol said. “You, on the other hand, have already been exposed. If I take you back, if I show you off as real, all of Hollow World will be at your feet. A genuine Darwin—a unique man—the people will worship you.”

“And you plan to use my celebrity status to do what exactly?”

“You go public with your story of time travel and how lonely you are for a mate, and the doors of the ISP will be flung wide to accommodate you. To do otherwise would be a cruelty, and Hollow World is never cruel. You and I will go on a tour of Hollow World. We’ll see all the sights, meet the people on all the plates. It will be simply wonderful. You’ll be loved by all—and then I’d like to see anyone try to deny you a woman. The people really would riot then.”

“What do you say, Ellis?” Warren asked. “Care to be the first ambassador of the New United States of America?”

Ellis didn’t know what to say.

Everyone at Firestone Farm was out of bed at first light except Yal, who rose long before. The new recruitalready had the stove stoked, had gathered the eggs, and was mixing muffins by the time Dex led Ellis out the kitchen door, showing him the way to the outhouse. The morning air embraced with chilly, damp arms—a world silent and gray. Dew-laden grass gave off a pungent, wholesome scent of summer; the odor of the outhouse was stronger still.

Simple. That was the way he saw the world that morning, now that he had put a little time between himself and the death of Peggy. A man couldn’t get much simpler than sitting bare-assed on a hole cut in the top of a wooden box in a rickety shed. Ellis had sore muscles from the lumpy bed, and the damp chill was bracing—even though it was summer. How would it be when snow covered the path, and he couldn’t sit because the seat was too cold? But peering out the gaps between the wall boards, Ellis felt good. The night before everything had an ominous, oppressive tone, but much of that was likely due to the news about Peggy and having to send Pax home. Emotions were peculiar that way. Nights affected attitudes too; mornings were always the happy optimists. And in the light of day, he had to admit there was virtue in a simple, uncomplicated, unfettered life.

On his way back, Ellis paused, just standing in the yard to witness the morning. Birds sang, frogs peeped, and a light breeze brushed the blades of grass. The brilliance of the sun pierced leaves, casting shafts of gold that splashed against the weathered boards of the barn. Ellis felt as if caught in a coffee commercial. A lovely middle-aged blonde wrapped in a homey cardigan sweater should appear behind him with a steaming cup and a life-loving smile. The breeze blew, and Ellis, dressed only in his T-shirt and pants, shivered. This was the difference between reality and replication. Hollow World presented a beautiful picture, a movie of sight and sound; the real world addressed all the senses, delivering the bad with the good.

Behind him the screen door slapped. The sound, hardly noticeable the night before, cracked offensively.

“Come with me, Ellis Rogers,” Bob said. The former Ved must have worked by candlelight the night before, because Ellis saw the new name stitched where the old one used to be. Bob carried four bright steel buckets, swaying them as they walked to the barn. “Ren teaches us that nothing is free. That everything is reached through hard work and self-reliance. The Maker is a cheat and a sin. It makes life too easy, and a pain-free life is not the way God intended His children to live.”

“You believe in God? You’re a Christian?”

“I’m working on it. I want to please Ren, but…” Bob looked troubled. “I’ve lived five hundred and twenty-eight years now, and it’s hard to believe in something that’s supposed to be so vital, and yet I’ve never heard of it before. Plus, a lot of the teachings center around an afterlife, but everyone in Hollow World lives forever. I’m still trying to make sense of it all and it’s hard with everything based on the word of just one person.”

“And a book.”

“Yes, the book. Have you read it?”

“Parts.”

“Ren reads to us in the evenings. He won’t let us use the holos. He’s read several books, and, honestly, so far I prefer the ones by Agatha Christie.” Bob looked up at the sky. “I still have problems believing in something I can’t see.”

“No one heard about germs before either,” Ellis said. “And most had to take their existence on faith. Scientists are sort of like priests that way.”

Bob nodded. “I see your point, but germs don’t demand our belief in them in order to save ourselves from eternal suffering, do they?”

“They do if you’re visiting a leper colony.”

“A what?”

“Never mind.”

“Besides, the ISP has made everyone in Hollow World immune to germs. And people don’t die anymore, so this whole idea of a better afterlife is just…well…silly.” Bob frowned.

“So why are you here?”

“To be special—to be like you and Ren. You’re just so—I want you to know how much I admire you. We all do. Ren explains that to be like you, we need to build character. Can’t be an individual without character. He says it’s through pain and struggle that we grow as people and become unique. We need to be rocks like the two of you instead of what we are, dandelion puffs blown in the wind.”

“Ren called you that?”

Bob smiled. “No—my own thought. Nice, don’t you think?”

“Very poetic.”

Bob threw the latch on the barn and pulled the big doors open. Inside was a dark, manure-scented cave defined only by white slices of light cutting between vertical boards. “Everyone needs to be responsible for themselves. No free rides. If you can’t cut it, you don’t deserve to live. It’s that simple.”

Ellis grinned, hearing Warren’s words spilling out of Bob’s mouth. In his head, Ellis imagined a giant clown getting out of a tiny car.

“Survival of the fittest,” Bob said. “That’s the Darwins’ creed, isn’t it?”

“That was Charles Darwin’s theory of natural selection—which traditionally hasn’t coexisted all that comfortably with Christianity.”

Standing before the row of cows, Bob paused, looking at Ellis with a puzzled expression. “I don’t know about such things, but”—Bob held out the buckets—“Ren said you’d want to contribute for your breakfast.”

“Oh, right, of course. No free lunch.” Ellis smiled and took the pails. “You’ll need to show me.”

Ellis expected milking a cow would be a complicated thing. It always was in movies, but, then again, according to Hollywood grown men, who could build highways and clean out putrid city-sewer tunnels, couldn’t manage to change a baby’s diaper without rubber gloves and a gas mask. The process was remarkably easy once he formed a rhythm and was assured he wasn’t hurting the cow by tugging. The hardest part was avoiding the swish of the manure-coated tail while sitting on the little stool and holding the bucket between his knees.

Bob watched until satisfied that Ellis was doing okay, then went about feeding and watering the barn’s other residents.

“How long have you been here—at this farm?” Ellis asked over the jet of milk hitting the side of the pail.

“Little less than half a year.”

Ellis couldn’t see Bob, who was on the other side of the cow that had been introduced as Olivia. “And you like it better than Hollow World?”

“Oh—much!” Ellis heard the scrape of a shovel. “I didn’t think I would, and I didn’t at first. Life in the forest must have been hard. Only Ren could appreciate thatchallenge. Too advanced for the rest of us. But here it’s much—well, it’s a lot easier.”

“Don’t you find it boring? Even a little stupid—I mean, struggling when you don’t have to?”

“That’s the point. It’s unpleasant living here—especially when you don’t feel well and you have to go out in a cold rain. I’ll stand at the door sometimes just looking out and wonder what the bleez I’m doing. Then I force myself, and a funny thing happens. I get the work done, hating all of it, but afterward I feel great. I mean, I’m exhausted and filthy, but I know I did something. We call it Ren’s magic. It’s like a delectation that you can get all by yourself. You don’t need a device to feel pleasure, and the good feeling lasts for days. I never really felt that back in Hollow World. Nothing anyone does really seems to matter there. That’s another part of character building—a sense of pride.”

By the time Ellis finished filling the four buckets, he had sore hands, and, as inclined as he was to ridicule Warren’s patchwork of philosophies, he had to admit it did feel good to do something worth doing. Everyone in the house would appreciate the milk, and the cows appeared to appreciate being relieved of their bloat. In all his years of ten– and twelve-hour days filled with thousands of hours of meetings, he had never felt that sort of pride or accomplishment. Somewhere along the way people had traded the virtues of work for a steady paycheck.

“It makes the food taste better when you’ve a hand in making it,” Bob explained, picking up two of the pails and leading the way back to the house, each of them sloshing buckets of steaming milk.

Breakfast was better than dinner, consisting of unburned blueberry muffins and omelets. After the meal, Warren abandoned him and disappeared upstairs with Pol and Dex. Ellis didn’t mind; he didn’t know exactly when Pax would return and preferred they meet alone. He helped Yal with dishes, then walked out the front door and down Firestone Lane, figuring Pax would port in about where they had separated the day before.

What am I going to say?

Hig was out cutting hay, and Ellis marveled at the ingenuity of the mowing machine. Circling the field in a clockwise manner, the two big horses—Noah and Webster—pulled the device, which appeared to be little more than two big wagon wheels and a seat. A crankshaft and connecting rod transformed the rotary power of the axle into the reciprocating motion of the saw blade that sliced back and forth between triangle ledger plates as they combed through the grass. The whole thing was just a larger version of hair clippers, but what Ellis found fascinating was how it was powered by the rotating wheels. It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise; he’d seen the same concept in a push lawn mower. This just worked so much better cutting a wide swath with each pass as Hig drove the horses from the seat between the wheels.

The smell of cut grass filled the air. Ellis sighed.

What am I going to say?

He didn’t really know.

Warren had invited him to be part of his little village. Life at Firestone might be harder than he was used to, and for Dex, Yal, Hig, and Bob, this might be a pretend life, like dude ranching used to be, some sort of rugged vacation or spiritual retreat. But for Warren and himself, who didn’t have a natural place in Hollow World, this could be home. He was a bit too old to be hauling bales of hay, but it was familiar and felt real, and he liked the idea of building something. Having faced death with nothing to show for it, he had discovered such things mattered.

But then there was Pax.

Ellis found he was anxious for Pax’s return, and surprised to find he was trembling as he waited at the fence. He couldn’t help thinking how great it would be if Pax would join them at Firestone. They could share a house, farm the land, create their own food, and read around the stove in winter. Living with Pax would be different from how it had been with Peggy. What had attracted him to her was sex. When it dried up, and it had all too quickly, all they shared was their child. At Isley’s passing, all that had remained was convenience. It would be different with Pax. He felt—

I thought maybe you were going native, walking on the other side of the road, so to speak.

Warren was nuts. He liked Pax—that was all. Who wouldn’t like Pax? The two of them just sort of clicked, like old friends who’d just met. Friends-at-first-sight, if there was such a thing. Pax made him feel better about himself, made him feel like he was someone important. Pax had a strange way of making him feel happy. That’s what good friends were supposed to do, right? Maybe he just never had a really good friend before. Maybe that was why…Ellis watched Hig orbit the field, wondering if it was possible to fall in love with someone—just someone—not a woman, not a man—just a person. What is love anyway?

Ellis shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. What the hell am I thinking?

He was starting to feel a little light-headed. His hands felt a bit numb as well.

“Ellis Rogers.”

There hadn’t been a flash or pop, but when he turned he saw the familiar bowler hat and silver vest. Pax’s face was rich with joy—beaming with a wide smile.

Pax ran the distance between them and without warning hugged Ellis tight. “I was worried. I’m so glad you’re all right.”

“I missed you too,” he said, noticing how Pax smelled like cinnamon, like the room he’d first awakened in.

Pax drew back and shot a quick glance over Ellis’s shoulder at the house and another at Hig and his horse team. “Can we go? Alva misses you too.”

“What about Vin?”

“Vin can kiss my hairless butt.”

Ellis couldn’t help laughing, which made Pax laugh, and he was surprised how much he enjoyed that sound and seeing Pax happy. “C’mon.” Pax formed a portal just behind them, and once more Ellis could see the dining room. “Alva has a hot-chocolate pattern for you to try.”

“Hot chocolate, eh?”

“With something called marshmallows—although Alva won’t tell me what they are. Every time I ask about food from your time she says, ‘You don’t want to know.’”

Ellis hesitated. He wanted to go. But…

You hear about guys that go to prison and figure they got no choice, you know?

“Pax,” Ellis began, “I don’t think I can.”

“What do you mean?”

The dining room looked so inviting, and yet… You two trying out some new-age sex toys?

“I think I’m going to stay here.”

“What?” The word was spoken in a barely audible whisper that killed the smile.

Ellis felt horrible. “I don’t really belong in Hollow World, but I was thinking that maybe you might consider staying here, too—with me.”

“What are you talking about? Everyone belongs in Hollow World. That’s theworld. People aren’t meant to liveon the surface.”

“But what would I do there?”

“Live, like everyone else.”

“But I’m not like everyone else.”

“I know. Don’t you think I know that? But…” Pax looked again toward the house. “This place, these people, that Ren—they’re…bad. They’re…evil.”

“Warren is like my brother.” Ellis sighed, realizing how useless it was to describe that kind of bond to someone who had never been part of a family. “He and I are very close. We’ve been through a lot together. He’s always been there when I needed him—always.”

“You have to listen to me, Ellis Rogers. We didn’t solve all the mysteries concerning the murder of Geo-24. Something else is going on. Geo-24 was killed for a reason. The real Pol-789 was killed for a reason, and Ren is behind all of it. Ren said they came to this farm a year ago. Well, a year ago was when the first murder took place, and it was then that protests against the Hive Project became more organized and vocal. Protests against something that isn’t even possible. They’re up to something, something horrible, and if you stay here…”

“What? I’ll become evil too?”

Pax looked down at his pistol, still strapped to his hip. Wearing it had become a habit.

“Of course not—you could never be. That’s why they’ll have to kill you. They will kill you, take your gun, and then kill others. Come back with me, please.”

“But you still can’t tell me why—why you think any of this?”

Pax looked away. “Can’t you just trust me?”

“Pol told me about your past—some of it, at least. Why Vin lives with you.”

Pax sucked in a breath and quivered. Tears formed. One slipped down, leaving a glistening trail. “That was personal, confidential. The real Pol would never tell anyone.”

“Pol was just trying to help.”

“Help Ren, you mean. Ren’s not your friend. They want you for something. Something they need. Something they can’t get on their own. I wish you could just believe me. I’ve never lied to you.”

Ellis felt horrible. He hated the look on Pax’s face, knowing he had put it there. Pax had been so happy, and now…“I don’t think it’s a matter of lying. Maybe it’s just that you don’t know the difference.”

Again Pax stared at him, injured. “Because—because I’m crazy?”

“No—I didn’t say that.”

“But you think there’s something wrong with me.”

“This isn’t about you. It’s about taking responsibility for one’s self. It’s about doing something worthwhile. And…think about it for a second. I’ve known you for what? Three days? I’ve known Warren since I was fourteen. We share a history, a life, a world. I understand him. He understands me, but I barely know you.”

“I understand you, Ellis Rogers, whether you believe it or not. I also know that if you stay here, they’ll use you. They’ll take your gun and—”

“Here.” Ellis unbuckled the holster and pressed it into Pax’s hands. “Space it if it makes you feel better. Do like we did to your chip. Destroy it. I don’t care. I’m going to stay here. Warren traveled two thousand years to find me. I can’t just abandon him to go drink hot chocolate. He needs me—more than he knows, because he’s got some really stupid ideas that I’m going to have to straighten out. We’re going to try and build a future, a real future in a real world with real people.”

“Realpeople?”

“I—I didn’t mean it that way.”

“How did you mean it?”

“I meant…”

“You meant people like you—Darwins.”

“Well—yeah. Warren thinks we can get the ISP to provide access to some female patterns, then we can restart a natural population here.”

Pax didn’t say anything.

“Pax, I’m going to stay. You might not understand it, but I belong here, I think. I was actually hoping that maybe you could join us.”

“Join you? You aren’t hearing me, Ellis Rogers. These people are murderers. They killed Geo-24. They killed Pol-789, and they’re planning on doing something much, much worse. They—”

“I know you are afraid of them, and you were right about Geo-24, but they didn’t have anything to do with that killing. Well, one of them did, but it wasn’t sanctioned. They didn’t know what that person was up to. That’s why the killer assumed Geo-24’s identity; they weren’t allowed to come back here. Warren wouldn’t forgive a murderer. Believe me, Warren has always been pro death penalty. And Pol isn’t an impostor. You’re just seeing things. You’re letting your imagination get away from you. You’re just being—” Ellis stopped himself.

Pax stood rigid, staring, shivering as if it were midwinter. “Paranoid? That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it? And that’s just another way of saying I’m crazy.”

The door to the house slapped. Ellis could hear the crack echo behind him.

“Please,” was all Pax said, the word spoken in a whisper, another tear falling.

Ellis looked over his shoulder. Warren, Pol, and Dex were on the porch, looking their way. “Maybe you should go.”

The look on Pax’s face broke Ellis’s heart.

As Pax walked through the portal, as the opening to that homey space in Hollow World closed, he felt oddly drunk, dizzy even. Ellis reached out to steady himself with the fence but couldn’t feel the wood. His whole arm was numb. Then the pain exploded in his chest. No warning. A truck just hit him. Ellis collapsed, bouncing off the fence and landing on his back.

The last sight he saw was the blue sky. His last thoughts weren’t of Peggy or Isley, but of Pax, a woodstove, and maybe a dog. Yes, they definitely should have had a dog.