The Collapsium Read Online Free PDF Page A

kneel.”
    Clad in the shade of purple forbidden to all others, with the diamond crown atop her head and the Scepter of Earth in her left hand and the Rings of Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn on the fingers of her right, she was black haired and walnut skinned and scowling deeply. She was beautiful and terrible and in a bad mood, and could destroy him with a word.
    “Hi, Tam,” he said lamely, then sighed and threw himself to his knees.
    1 . See Appendix A: Collapsium, this page
    2 . See Appendix A: Wellstone, this page

chapter two
in which an urgent plea is heard
    She was a figurehead, by the way. She couldn’t literally destroy him, have him killed, have his pattern erased and his name stricken from every stone and pillar, but she could make his personal and professional life difficult enough that he might wish she had.
    “Don’t ‘Hi’ me,” she snapped as he knelt there before her. “Rise. Approach.”
    Ground moisture had soaked through the knees of Bruno’s trousers. Rising, he wiped them absently with his hand, then caught himself and wiped the hand on his vest, in case she demanded to shake it or something. Approaching gingerly, he spread his arms.
    “My world, Your Majesty. Welcome.”
    She nodded regally. “Yes. Your world.” Then she cocked her head, looked at him strangely. “Are you all right? Why are you leaning like that?”
    He blinked. “Leaning? Ah, it’s the curvature. The planet being so small, local vertical swings a full degree every six meters. Your ‘up’ is not the same as mine. The trees—” Hepointed. “—seem to tilt away from you as well, more so the farther away they are. You see how they’re angled?”
    The Queen of Sol surveyed the horizon, nodding absently. “I wondered about that. The way the ground slopes away, I feel as if I’m standing on a mountaintop. Is that your house down there?”
    “Er, yes,” Bruno replied, following her gaze. “It isn’t ‘down,’ though; the ground’s quite level here. Shall we go inside?”
    She nodded. “Somewhere we can sit, yes. There’s much to discuss.”
    “I’d gathered.”
    He led her back across the meadow, dainty robots trailing behind. Her velvet skirts smoothed a trail in the grass as she walked, the sunlight full in her round face. Even her long shadow was more regal than lanky, a Queen among its kind. Bruno couldn’t keep his eyes forward. Didn’t try.
    “It’s closer than I thought,” the queen remarked as they approached the house. “Smaller. You’ve dwelt in a shack all these years? A hovel?”
    Bruno shrugged. “The planet size again. If the house were any broader, the curvature of the floor would become apparent. You couldn’t roll a ball bearing on my floor—it’s gravitationally flat—but indoors I find the eye prefers straight lines and right angles.”
    “Add another level, perhaps?”
    He shook his head. “The upper story would feel less gravity, and a lot less air pressure. Thirty percent less. The gradients are steep on a planet this small.” He pointed to the snow-capped Northern Hills. “The air’s thin up there. And cold.”
    She smiled. “Those little things?”
    “My Himalayas. I’m quite comfortable, Tamra, really, and I don’t think you’ve come here to remodel the planet.”
    Bruno waved for a door as they approached. It opened, and they stepped through. The house had remodeled itself in his absence, throwing down trails of red carpet joining furniture more elegant than he’d normally employ. Chandeliers of goldand diamond hung from a ceiling striped with stained-glass murals of green and tan and blue, stylized scenes from Her Majesty’s native Tonga. They moved and changed, almost too slowly to see.
    Presently, a ring of speakers formed along the walls at chest level, and began playing “Thank God for the Revival of Monarchy,” which was the Queendom of Sol’s quite popular unofficial anthem; the official one was the dreary “Praise upon Her,” which was almost never