“Hey, the whole world started with just Adam and Eve, and we did fine with that,” Warren said. “So the plan is for Dex to grow us a little harem of women. We’ll be like two old pride lions, like the biblical patriarchs of old begetting a whole new nation of Americans. Go forth and multiply, you know? Think about that. We’ll literally be the founding fathers of the new United States.”
“And what if these women don’t have any interest in being human incubators? You ever consider that?”
“Outdated thinking, my friend. That’s the product of a feminist movement that doesn’t exist anymore. We’ll teach them it’s a sacred duty and great honor. They’ll be thrilled to contribute in such a vital way.”
“Even so, you’re in your sixties now, right? By the time these women are of age, you’ll be in your eighties.”
“Not a problem. Dex says he can extend my life for another hundred years at least.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you…you got your new heart and clean pancreas. I don’t think I’m gonna be around much longer.”
“Jesus, didn’t they fix you already?” Warren asked.
Ellis felt the crackle in his chest—wind across a field of steel wool. “No.”
Warren turned to Dex and hooked a thumb at Ellis. “Needs a new set of lungs.”
Dex nodded. “Absolutely. Not a problem.”
Are all major surgeries dispensed out of vending machines now?Ellis was thinking to ask when he noticed a flash outside. No one moved—no reaction at all. Just as Ellis was thinking they didn’t see it, he heard a creak followed by the slap of the screen door.
“Pol is here,” Yal called.
Pol-789—or fake Pol—Ellis didn’t know anymore—entered the living room. As youthful in appearance as all of them, and still dressed in the flamboyant orange robes of state, Ellis thought the Chief Councilor looked a bit like a college freshman attending a Halloween toga party.
“Aha!” Pol said the moment he saw Ellis, and added with a big smile, “Wonderful. You made it. I’ve been looking everywhere.”
“You’ve met?” Warren asked.
“Yes,” Pol said, smiling. “Briefly, at least. Ellis Rogers was in my office yesterday with Pax-43246018.”
Ellis was impressed the Chief Councilor remembered Pax’s full name. Ellis had never been good with names, particularly foreign ones with odd-sounding vowels and double consonants. Memorizing a series of numbers after a single telling was hopeless. He imagined Pol was the sort that could have recited his license number—if only they still had them.
“We’d just been introduced, and I was making plans to come here to reunite old friends, when events transpired beyond my control.” Pol stared at Ellis, marveling, studying him until Ellis felt uncomfortable.
“What kind of events?” Warren asked, indicating Pol should take a seat.
Pol turned back to the kitchen. “Yal? Can I get a glass of wine?”
“Of course, right away.”
Pol smiled at all of them before sitting in the other Queen Anne chair, which Dex had promptly vacated. Hig got up from the couch to let Dex sit there. Then Rob, or Bob, got up in turn to shift position. Ellis felt he was watching a silent version of musical chairs.
“We have a seating order,” Warren explained. “In the down-under they’ve forgotten all about authority, hierarchy, and structure. People just do whatever they want. I’m getting them familiar with discipline and the pecking order. Pol is number one, then Dex, then Hig, then—” Warren squinted at Ved One. “Are you Rob or Bob?”
“Bob, you said.”
“Okay, then—Bob, then Rob.”
“Do Ihave a place in this order?” Ellis asked. “And does it require me cutting off my fingers?”
Warren looked uncomfortable, but only for an instant. Then the serene face of an old master returned. “The fingers…well, the finger cutting is necessary for a few reasons. Identification, for one. My way of making certain I can tell the good ones from the bad. These underworlders change their shirts and you can’t tell one from another. Tattoos are easily put on and taken off. Fingers are a different matter. Plus, sacrificing them shows a commitment to the cause. I don’t want anyone here who isn’t in one hundred percent, and these people don’t understand real commitmentanymore. They do something for a while, then change their minds and try something else. They don’t have marriage, don’t have countries. How can they understand the concept of loyalty? People won’t sacrifice two fingers without giving things a lot of thought. It’s the dues they pay to join me—to be special.”
“And me?” Ellis held up his right hand, wiggling his fingers.
Warren shook his head. “You’re a Darwin like me.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Means you’re not one of them. You’re above the law.” Warren raised his voice a bit. “And in case there’s any doubt, Ellis stands equal with me, and you will show him the same respect and recognize his authority just as you do mine.”
They all nodded. Ellis was sitting in a huddle of dogs that idolized a wolf.
Warren turned back to Pol. “So tell me who this Pax is and what happened in your office.”
Pol sighed. “Pax is an unusual case. Works as an arbitrator to some effect, but…well, there have been complaints of strange behavior.”
Strange behavior?Ellis wondered what normal was in a world where people walked around au naturel, danced in the rain, no one worked, and their world leader dressed like Julius Caesar.
“Then a few years ago, Pax tried to—”
Yal entered and handed Pol a glass of blood-red wine.
“Tried to what?” Ellis asked.
Pol took a dainty sip. “Pax opened a portal to the vacuum of space and tried to walk through it.”
No one said anything for a heartbeat. Each pair of eyes tried to process the sentence as if it were a riddle, one of those logic problems where a hunter who lives in a house with four windows all facing south shoots a bear, and people try to figure out the color of the dead animal.
“What?” Ellis felt the empty sensation rock him again. He was beginning to feel a little punch-drunk, an emotionally battered fighter unable to put his arms up to defend himself.
“I thought that wasn’t possible,” Warren said. “Thought those things—well, you said they had safety features blocking people from doing stupid shit like that.”
Dex, who was nodding, spoke. “They do. Living tissue is blocked from passing into hostile environments.”
“They do now,” Pol corrected. “The original CTWs had fixed destinations, so no one thought anything about it, but the first few generations of portals—they could go anywhere. After a few accidents, safety features were added.”
“But that was centuries ago,” Dex said.
“Pax, it turns out, is an antique collector of sorts,” Pol explained. “If it hadn’t been for the residence’s vox blocking the field, Pax would have committed suicide.”
Ellis felt guilty. He hadn’t had anything to do with the portal incident—didn’t even know how long ago it had happened—but he had just sent Pax away, crying. What is Pax doing right this moment?
“Are you saying this Pax person is insane?” Warren asked.
“Mentally ill,” Pol said. “Unstable. It’s why Pax lives with Vin-3667, a renowned artist. Vin volunteered to watch over Pax. I talked to Vin two days ago. Vin felt the excitement of being with Ellis Rogers has caused Pax to slip, and suggested Pax bring Ellis to me. Felt that Ellis Rogers was an upsetting influence.”
“So what happened?”
“The two arrived on schedule, but then Pax began venting, going sonic.”
“Leave out your underworld slang, Pol,” Warren said with a growl. “We speak proper American here.”
“Forgive me. Traveling between cultures is—”
“Get on with it.” Warren shuffled his feet, recrossing them on the stool in a manner as decisive as a judge banging a gavel.