Fighting Gravity (10 page)

“If you don’t mind, sir, I’d rather not, it wouldn’t be appropriate.”

I tried not to sigh. “Fine then, but call me Jacob.”

“That wouldn’t be appropriate, sir.”

I was starting to hate this guy. I didn’t like feeling out of my element, or like an idiot, and he made me feel both. I didn’t know how to fix it except by ignoring him, but I couldn’t forget that he was standing there.

I spent most of the trip gazing out the window, trying to find something else to think about. I hadn’t traveled since I’d been brought to the IIC as a child and it was easy to lose myself in all there was to see.

We passed through plains areas and hilly terrain and cities. We floated by fields in cultivation, undulating with tall silky grains, or dotted with heads of leafy vegetables, or furred with delicate herbs.

I saw the softer, gentle faces of mountain ranges much older than the sharp, uncompromising giants I was used to. We crossed hills so subtle that I was sure they weren’t hills at all until we crested a rise and dipped into the hollow below.

And, at the last, there was the ocean. I had already seen many incredible things in my life; things that no man had observed before, and things that few others ever would. Those moments were intimate, made me feel a part of something infinite and eternal. The experience of seeing the ocean for the first time was nothing like that. It felt somehow vaster than infinity, and greater than any other phenomenon. Sitting there I realized just how small and unimportant I really was.

But even that—as the effect of my first look wore off—didn’t eliminate the ever-present jittery feeling, the amorphous, unformed fears that had taken up residence in my stomach. As I watched the countryside slip by, I couldn’t think of anything but how alone I was.

fg
10

I
should remember my first experience
of the palace, but I don’t. Not with any real clarity.

I suppose I do remember high walls like a swell of the sand-dunes that rolled into them like waves. And windows that reflected the blue-gray of the ocean and looked like little pools of seawater climbing a vertical beach.

I remember people. So many, many people. And huge imposing doorways and hallways—like being inside a whale—that still managed to feel crowded.

I remember feeling nervous when Jonathan told me that the rooms I’d assumed must be for several guests were for me alone.

I remember those things the way you sometimes remember dreams—never quite certain if the memory is real or if you decided it was so.

What I do remember are the books.

There in the sitting room that was just for me. Real books. Paper and ink books. Pages and pages, bound together with fabric-wrapped stiff paper backings and glue. They were stacked on one of the end tables, as if they were everyday things and not something out of a bygone era.

I picked one up and felt the heft of it in my hand. I opened it to look at the creamy white pages with thick black ink stamped on them. It smelled woody, with the tang of chemicals and glue. It was a text by a famous twentieth century physicist.

I sank into a nearby chair and began to read. There was something so different about reading a book in this form versus watching the words scroll by on a tablet. It felt like I’d just cracked it open when Jonathan interrupted to tell me that dinner would be served soon. I was shocked. And almost a hundred pages into the book.

“This is incredible,” I said holding up the book. “Does everyone here have these?”

“His Excellence collects books. They’re provided to all guests of the palace at his order. There’s also a very large library that I can show you if you’d like. But right now it’s time to dress for dinner.”

I looked down at myself. I was dressed.

“At the palace, everyone dresses up for dinner,” he said.

I frowned. “This is my dress uniform. It’s the best thing I have.”

“Suitable clothing has been provided for you.” He gestured toward the bedroom and the closet there. Surprised and curious, I followed.

Hanging in the closet were my uniforms, but in addition to those were six complete suits of clothes, three much fancier than the others. Even the “casual” ones were too rich and opulent for me. Just looking at them was intimidating. I tried to protest, but Jonathan insisted that even my dress uniform would not be suitable for dinner in the grand dining hall.

I had no choice but to relent. When I was dressed, Jonathan brought out a small case. Inside was a thick platinum ring with an imperial crest in the center.

“No, thanks. I don’t wear jewelry.”

“The ring is a gift from the emperor. It’s a longstanding tradition that the emperor’s appointees receive a token from His Excellence. It’s also a symbol of status. To have one at all puts you in an exclusive group. If you have a token from a previous emperor, the bracelet from Charles XVII or even the pendant from Ferdinand VI, it’s a symbol of seniority. Rikhart IV’s ring is still quite rare. You are one of only eight who have it.”

I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Well that’s fascinating,” I answered. “And I’m honored. But I don’t want to wear a ring, so let’s just leave it here.” While interesting as a story, what he’d told me made me no more inclined to wear the ring than I had been before. Rank and seniority were all well and good if you wanted them, but I was much more interested in going unnoticed. On top of that, I was still unhappy about the appointment. I had no desire to wear a symbol of it.

He stared at me. “Mr. Dawes, this is a gift from the emperor.”

“I didn’t notice him giving me anything. He probably doesn’t know I’m here, much less what someone put in the closet for me. I can’t believe he’ll care.”

“But sir…”

“It’s time for dinner, isn’t it? I don’t want to be late.”

He shook his head in bewilderment and led me out of the room.

-

Jonathan led me through such a confusing set of hallways that I was sure I’d never be able to find my way back to my room without help. But finding the dining hall was easy. We moved along with a steady stream of elegant people all heading in the same direction.

As uncomfortable as I’d felt in the fancy clothes while in my room, I was grateful for them now. Everyone else was wearing things as nice, or nicer. I would have been horribly conspicuous in my uniform.

We entered a room that the word grand didn’t even begin to encompass. It was huge. The ceiling was six stories above us. The western wall was a series of windows that framed the sun as it set over the ocean, resplendent in orange and red.

I stood by the seat Jonathan directed me to and waited, watching the people flow about me. They were a loud, gaudy, sparkling sea of importance and wealth.

The emperor entered the room with a group of men and women who exuded power like an odious smell.

The occupants of the head table took their places and the emperor himself offered the blessing. It wasn’t at all what I’d expected. He said, “May we as the people of our great Empire, give all we have in service of each other, and of the greater good. Long live the Empire!”

I automatically echoed the last along with everyone else and sat down, still pondering the strange blessing. The only blessings I’d ever heard before had focused on the emperor and what we could do for him. Now he spoke of what we could do for each other. Maybe even what
he
could do for
us
. It was unexpected and unsettling. I didn’t know how to mesh that with what I thought of him, of the thoughtless way he’d rearranged my life for his own benefit.

“Good evening,” the woman on my right said. “I’m Dr. Sonja Henriksen, the emperor’s physician.” She wasn’t all that old, which surprised me, considering her position. No gray hair, at least, nor many wrinkles.

“I’m Jacob Dawes. I just arrived this afternoon.”

“And what brings you here, Jacob?”

“I’ve been reassigned here,” I said, attempting to sound calm and detached about it. “I came from the Intellectual Complex.”

Her eyes widened. “From the IIC?” I nodded. “But…you’re Jacob Dawes?
The
Jacob Dawes of the Dawes Laser?”

I flushed. She wasn’t skeptical like people usually were. She was impressed.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled. “No kidding? Mr. Dawes, that’s incredible. I’ve been using your laser in my practice for several years now. In fact, I used it in one of the last procedures I did on our late emperor. You’re quite talented. And at such a young age. You don’t look much older than eighteen.”

Her over-estimate of my age helped soothe away some of my embarrassment. “I’m almost sixteen,” I answered.

Her eyebrows climbed higher. “Incredible. That’s a nice bit of work you did there, Mr. Dawes. It really is an amazing improvement over the options we had before. My, my, just imagine the things you’ll do.”

She was almost crowing over me like a proud relative. I liked her, though. She took me at face value and hadn’t once made any insulting assumptions. She was neither trying to use me nor tear me down. I wasn’t used to that.

When dinner concluded, Jonathan reappeared and I asked him to show me back to my room. Once there, I buried myself again in Dr. Hawking’s work until I was dozing in my chair. I was about to collapse into bed when I realized I hadn’t sent Kirti or anyone else a message to let them know I’d arrived. I hand-wrote a note on a tablet in the room and sent it off. I didn’t say much more than that I was there, and safe, and promised to write more later. Still I felt guilty for having managed to put them out of my mind so quickly, caught up in the experience of this place I was determined to hate.

-

I spent my one full day at the palace wandering, trying to see nothing while looking at everything. I was very conflicted. I didn’t want to like it or be impressed, but surrounded by the best of everything, it was impossible not to catch my breath in wonder from time to time.

As an antidote, I spent the afternoon on the beach. Even the palace was no competition for the vast presence of the ocean.

When I was dressing for dinner that evening, Jonathan offered me the ring again, and again I declined. The conversation with Dr. Henriksen was as enjoyable as it had been the night before, and she asked me about what I’d seen and done so far.

At the conclusion of dinner a servant came to inform me that I was summoned to the emperor. Surprised, I followed him; Jonathan came with me. We were brought to where the emperor was chatting with some nobles in a hallway. He looked very different than I remembered him. This man was stiff and serious. Fancier too. Almost everything on him glittered in some way.

He dismissed the men he was speaking to and turned to me. As he did, his whole posture softened and all at once he was a different man; the relaxed, casual one I remembered. I bowed, trying to process the change.

“Good evening, Mr. Dawes. I’m glad to see that you’ve arrived in time for our departure tomorrow. You’ve had a chance to see a little of the palace?”

“Yes, Your Excellence. A little. It’s impressive. Overwhelming, really.”

The compliment didn’t seem that important to him. “And your rooms are adequate?”

“They’re much more than I need.”

“Good.” He smiled.

“In fact, with those books there, I haven’t paid much attention to the rest.”

His face brightened. “You like those, do you?” His expression was eager, almost childlike, and I realized I was smiling back at him.

“Of course. They’re such a complete experience, the smell, the feel, the sound. And I never would have thought to look up
The Large Scale Structure of Spacetime
. It’s fascinating to see through the eyes of a fellow scientist all the things they didn’t know back then.”

“I’m very happy to hear that someone else understands my interest in books. Most people think they’re worthless.” He studied me for a moment and then turned to Jonathan.

“Jonathan, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Your Excellence.”

He nodded. “Jonathan, why was Mr. Dawes not given an Imperial ring?”

“He gave me one,” I interrupted. They both looked at me wide-eyed. “Your Excellence,” I tacked on. He took a long look at my hands. “I told him I didn’t want to wear it.” I shrugged uncomfortably. “I just…didn’t want to.” My face was hot.

He looked up at me, eyebrows high. A smile teased the corner of his mouth. “Oh? Well, I’m sorry we weren’t able to choose something that met with your approval.”

If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn he was teasing me. That scared me. I didn’t want to attract his attention any more than necessary. I’d already learned that it was never safe to be on the radar of those in authority.

“I didn’t mean any disrespect, Excellence. I didn’t realize it was important.”

“It’s not,” he said. “At least, it doesn’t need to be. Most people place a great deal of importance on it, but if you don’t, then you don’t.” He seemed to be sincere, but I didn’t trust it. Why bring it up if it wasn’t important?

And yet, the fact that we were even discussing the ring made me even less inclined to wear it, just to be contrary.

“Thank you, Excellence.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying your stay, Mr. Dawes. I’m sure I’ll see you aboard ship,” he said, and I knew he was dismissing me. I bowed and walked away, and Jonathan followed, looking at me sideways.

“What?” I asked. He just shook his head, a slight smile on his face.

fg
11

I returned to my room and picked up my book again, but I was full of nervous anticipation and still uncomfortable about the conversation with the emperor.

“Jonathan, may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you like your job?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Don’t say what you think I want to hear, and I’m not talking about me, anyway. Do you like serving people like you do?”

“Yes,” he answered, “I do. There are many worse jobs. I’m always warm and comfortable, and in much better circumstances and places and company than I would be on my own. And to work at the palace is an incredible achievement, even if you’re just a toilet scrubber,”