down,” Phillip said. “Acting like you isn’t going to help him get anywhere with Gwen. It doesn’t seem to have helped you.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Phillip hoisted his suitcase onto the bed and started unpacking . “No, it’s meant to be the truth. You need to get your mind off of Gwen. We have bigger problems.”
Martin looked around them. “What problems? That this place is beautiful?”
“I know,” Phillip said, “and I don’t like it. Not one bit. I don’t like this city, and I don’t like that Brit the Elder. There’s something wrong there.”
“She certainly seemed to like you,” Martin said.
“Like I said, wrong.”
“Well, like Gwen said, she’s the future version of herself, maybe . . .”
Phillip interrupted him. “No, Martin, she’s not the future version of herself, she’s one current version of herself, from the future, and I know what you were going to say. ‘The two of you must have known each other in her past.’ That is what you were going to say, right?”
“Yeah. So what? So the two of you met and hit it off in her past. That’s nice.”
“No,” Phillip said, “it’s not nice. It won’t be nice, and if it is nice, that’ll make it worse.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Martin said.
“No, reality isn’t making sense. I’m just describing it. By suggesting that we meet and get along, she essentially ordered me to meet her and get along. Now, when I do meet her, I’ll be subconsciously primed to like her even if I don’t, just because it’s supposedly already happened.”
Martin said, “Oh, okay. I get it. You’re back on your ‘free will’ trip.”
“I’m not back on it,” Phillip said, “I’m still on it. I never wasn’t on it. Make no mistake. For as long as you know me, for the rest of my life, I will insist that I have free will.”
“But, if you’re going to insist that you have free will no matter what,” Martin said, “then that’s not free will. Like I keep telling you, that’s not a choice, that’s a program. You might as well be an inanimate wooden sign that says ‘I have free will’ for all that proves.”
Phillip looked at Martin for a moment, then, in an unnaturally calm voice, said, “It’s true. You do always say that. And what do I always say in return?”
“That I should shut up.”
“Indeed.”
“And none of that does anything to prove that either of us has free will. In fact . . .”
“Martin?”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
11.
Martin and Phillip arrived at the reception about a half hour before the official start time, and the place was already bustling . It was a large ballroom in one of the ridiculously impressive buildings at the center and bottom of the city. The ballroom was under a large dome that protruded from the roof of one of the buildings . Because all of the buildings in Atlantis were constructed from molecularly engineered crystalline materials , the walls were a milky, opaque white that faded to perfect transparency at their peaks. If one looked up, they were treated to a dizzying view of the city looming over them, and the dark blue Mediterranean twilight looming over the city. As the sky got darker, lights came on. Martin didn’t know if the lights were fires, magical contrivances , or oil lamps, but they illuminated the buildings from the inside, like thousands of huge paper lanterns stacked all around him.
The outer perimeter of the room was populated at regular intervals by large white statues of various important women, depicted in the style of Greek goddesses, which worked well for Wonder Woman, but not so well for Margaret Thatcher.
Phillip and Martin spent several minutes soaking in the spectacle and scanning the room for a familiar face. There were many wizards, shamans, sorcerers, and other assorted magic folk, all of them men. There were many guards, servers, and hosts, also all male. They had given up seeing someone they already knew and
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