“And the scar on your shoulder?” Ellis asked.
“This?” Pol exposed the mark. “Hig actually gave me this almost a year ago with a scythe.” Pol pointed at Hig, who displayed a guilty look.
“I remember that,” Warren said. “Lucky Pol didn’t lose the whole arm. Hig was still learning the ways of the farmer. But it’s proof that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”
“Survival of the fittest,” Pol said, smiling.
“Now to the real point of this meeting,” Warren said.
This is a meeting? Ellis had thought the point was to digest the food they’d just eaten.
Warren stood up and, setting down his cup on the green tablecloth covering the little oval table, hooked his thumbs under his suspenders like some old-timey preacher. “I’d all but given up hope of finding Ellis, but God has guided him to us, and I feel more certain than ever that the Almighty has sent both of us. It’s just like when he sent John the Baptist and Jesus to set mankind—who had gone astray—back on the path of righteousness. It’s an abomination what mankind has done to itself. Ellis and I are here to help guide you in ridding yourselves of your sins. Abandoning Him, and His teachings has led to a self-made hell, but we’ll create paradise.” He turned to face Ellis. “I’ve already begun to tell my friend of our plans to reintroduce women. How is that going, Dex?”
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 recruit already 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?”