The servant behind me indicated I was to follow the emperor when he went into a lounge just outside the dining hall. I looked back for Chuck and Kirti. Their expressions begged for an answer. I just shrugged.
In the lounge there were goblets of wine and hors d’oeuvres sitting out and the room was filled with fresh flowers. The emperor took at seat and began to talk with the man who had been walking with him throughout.
Unlike most of the emperor’s attendants, functionaries, servants and guards, this man was not wearing some version of a uniform. He did have the Imperial crest embroidered on the sleeve of his jacket, and I guessed that he was some high ranking administrator.
I slid closer to a servant and asked who the man was. He called him Lord Sifer, the emperor’s Head Minister, and told me that he was the man with the most authority in the palace after the emperor. He looked stern and uncompromising. I decided I was afraid of him.
Entering the dining hall with the emperor was a very strange experience. I was already nervous, and the room full of eyes on me was almost a physical weight. I’d stood before this exact group on more than one occasion presenting my work, but this was different. Then there had been pride of accomplishment, and confidence in what I had done, and if anyone was going to resent or judge me, it would be for something I had done by choice and through hard work.
But now, the jealousy on the faces of many in the crowd felt like a force all its own. I hadn’t asked for this and, as once-in-a-lifetime an experience as it was, I would have been happy sitting in the back of the room between Kirti and Chuck. But I followed, because that was what I was supposed to do, and tried to ignore all the eyes on me.
I was led to the seat at the immediate right of the emperor and my mouth went dry. The servant just nodded reassurance, so I stood behind the chair. What else could I do? Director Kagawa, who had been sitting on the emperor’s right during lunch, was now at my right. I looked over at him, taking pleasure, at least, in having moved him down a notch. He didn’t look at me, but stood and offered the blessing.
I couldn’t say the last words. Standing by the man himself, it felt ridiculous on the one hand, and frightening on the other. The emperor didn’t seem to notice that anyone in the room had just wished him eternal life, let alone that I had not.
We sat, and the emperor turned to Lord Sifer on his left and continued the conversation they’d been having in the lounge. It gave me time to get my bearings. The food was brought for us and servants came along pouring wine. My goblet was filled like everyone else’s. I looked over at Director Kagawa who gave me a stern, admonishing look. I grinned at him and sipped the wine. I’m sure it was a very fine vintage but it didn’t taste very good to me. I didn’t see what all the fuss was about.
I had just taken a large bite when the emperor turned to me and asked a question. I coughed, trying to clear my mouth in a hurry, but he seemed content to wait. We chatted for several minutes and I watched him to figure out how I should be combining eating and talking with a concern for manners that wasn’t a priority among teenaged boys at the lower tables.
The emperor drew Director Kagawa into the conversation without talking over me, but I was freed from the obligation of talking and ate in silence. I tried more of the wine, hoping it would improve with time. That probably wasn’t the most intelligent thing to do while sitting beside the emperor, not knowing my tolerance for alcohol.
After a while, and another conversation with Lord Sifer, the emperor turned back to me. “So Mr. Dawes, how do you come up with all these marvelous discoveries of yours?”
I shrugged. “They just come to me. The Stimulated Emissions theory came to me in math class from something we’d been studying in physics. The Intermolecular Force theorems were from one of those half-dreams you have when you’re not quite awake yet. And I’ve been getting ideas from listening to my friend Kirti play.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“She’s a pianist. And we like to hang out in the practice halls. She’ll play whatever occurs to her at the time, and I’ll watch the interactions of different forces or systems in the music and sometimes it gives me ideas.”
“What do you mean, you watch them in the music?”
No one had asked me that before. Then again, I’d never tried to explain this to anyone else. It just…was. But you don’t just tell the emperor “I dunno” and move on.
“Well, when I close my eyes, the music is like a paintbrush that’s creating pictures from the notes and harmonies. Listening to the music is like watching the interactions of things you can’t see otherwise. It’s different than clinical observation. It’s more…fanciful I guess.”
He kept watching me, considering, in a way that made me want to squirm. “That’s one of the most interesting things I think I’ve ever heard, Mr. Dawes. Do you see this sort of thing often?”
“All the time. But not all the things I see make any sense, once I really think about them.”
“Hmm,” he replied. “Well, I’d like to try this for myself. We’ll have your friend Kirti play for us.”
He made a small gesture and two of the servants moved away. I stared at him in shock. Now I was very nervous in a different way. This would be a shock for Kirti.
It wasn’t long before several servants were wheeling a piano into the room and setting it up in front of the head table. The room rang with whispers and the sound of people turning around to see what was going on. A servant approached from the back of the room, leading Kirti, whose face had gone white. She stopped in front of the table and offered a shaky bow and a tremulous, “Your Excellence.”
“Ms. Sachar, would you play for us, please? Mr. Dawes tells me that your playing is the inspiration for some of his extraordinary insights, and I would like to be inspired myself.”
If possible, Kirti went whiter. “Of course, Your Excellence. What would you like me to play?”
“Mr. Dawes says that he’s inspired when you’re not playing from a score. I’d like you to play like that for me.”
“Yes, Your Excellence,” she said in a whisper. She sat on the bench. I could see that her hands, as she held them over the keys, trembled.
Her music at first was soft, hesitant. Not the playing, but the intended music. It was easy to see it was a reflection of how she felt.
And before long I was watching a calm, soothing spring rain. Soon the music changed and I was right up among the turgid, angry clouds of an approaching storm. My mind ran away with the fascinating processes clashing in the heart of those clouds.
The music climbed and I was above the cloudbank and still rising until I broke free of the planet’s gravity and was out in the void itself. I sighed. This was one of my favorite places to be. All I knew, all that was familiar and ordinary on the ground, was new and full of possibilities here. I watched, floating carefree, as the great forces of the universe gamboled in their never-ending play. Opposing forces kissed and spun away only to come back together again in the dance.
The music thundered and the dancers stumbled, wobbling to right themselves. I watched as powerful forces gave way to weaker ones, particles of almost no mass at all displaced planetary bodies, and a delicate pattern of neutrino radiation—silver-white strands of celestial silk—overlaid it all.
I was so caught up in the scene that the crash of applause made me jump. I realized I’d had my eyes closed. I caught a glimpse of the emperor when I opened them and he was watching me, the quirk of a smile on his lips.
“Thank you, Ms. Sachar,” he said, “that was beautiful.”
She bowed and returned to her seat. He turned to me. “Well, I confess, Mr. Dawes, while I enjoyed the music, I got no new insights into the workings of the universe. Did you?”
I shook my head, but to reorganize my thoughts, not as an answer. “Mmmmm. It makes sense if you think about it…there have to be more sources than we’ve detected. Just because we haven’t observed it yet doesn’t mean…” I looked up at him. The look of polite attentiveness
slid off his face. When I slowed to a stop he lost control of the laughter he’d been trying to suppress.
“You’re amazing, Mr. Dawes. You’re going to have to come with me on my tour of the Empire.” My heart stopped. “In two weeks I’m embarking on a year-long tour. I’ve had a lab constructed for myself aboard ship. Not that I’m qualified to make much use of it. I had hoped to find the time to spend the occasional day divining the secrets of the universe. It’s been a lovely delusion, but I know it’s nothing more than a sophisticated shrine to my self-indulgence. It would be such a tragedy to see it go to waste. But with you aboard ship, the lab won’t be wasted at all.”
My mouth was too dry to speak. I was going into space? For a whole year? To work in a lab built for the emperor himself? I sat in stunned silence. He seemed to be enjoying my reaction.
Director Kagawa’s voice came from over my shoulder, “Mr. Dawes is no doubt overwhelmed by Your Excellence’s generosity. Of course, I’m sure it’s frightening as well, the prospect of leaving behind your only home for something completely foreign and no doubt quite strange for someone of his origins, at such a young age.” I wondered if he missed the look on the emperor’s face at that reference to my age. “And to do so alone? Perhaps someone should accompany him, both as a familiar presence and as a chaperone. As his mentor I’d be more than happy to fill that role.”
Fury welled up in me. I could usually ignore Kagawa’s insulting assumptions but this was too much. My hands clenched into fists in my lap. The emperor seemed surprised by the director’s little speech and turned to me with a questioning look.
The heady feeling of power rushed through me. Kagawa was trying to acquire something extraordinary for himself by capitalizing on my success, and the emperor had laid the decision in my lap.
I didn’t even look at Kagawa. “He’s nothing to me, Excellence,” I said. “Had it been up to him, I’d have been Resettled years ago.”
The emperor’s face went blank when he turned to regard Kagawa, as if the director no longer existed. Somehow it was the most frightening expression I’d ever seen. The emperor looked over at Lord Sifer, who nodded acknowledgement of something that had passed unseen between them. He turned back to me and his face resumed its previous expression of polite interest.
“It’s settled then. I can’t wait to see the fascinating things you’ll think up to do in that lab.”
I was paralyzed with horror. What had I done? I forced myself to look over at Director Kagawa. Pale as death, he stared out into space, poleaxed. I dropped my head, my face hot with shame.
I spent the rest of the meal staring at my plate, my appetite gone. I couldn’t look at Kagawa, nor could I look at the emperor, but looking up at the room would have been just as bad or worse. The closest tables would have heard the entire conversation, and many more would have seen the reactions. Unless Kagawa looked markedly different now than he had the last time I’d raised my head, the whole room had to know that something had happened. Something big. Something terrible. Something that was my fault.
I don’t think the emperor spoke to me again. If he did, I didn’t notice. When dessert was served, it was all I could do not to lose what I’d already eaten. I sat in agony until the emperor stood and made a small, closing speech. He praised our work. He promised to return every five years or so to keep himself abreast of all that we did. He spoke of how much he had enjoyed the day, how much he had learned, and how valuable we were to the Empire. He thanked us and we rose as a group and bowed as he left the room.
As soon as he was gone I catapulted out of my place and rushed after his departing retinue. I caught up to Lord Sifer and grabbed at his arm without thinking.
“Please sir, please, what’s going to happen to Director Kagawa? What I said, I didn’t mean it like it sounded. That is, I mean, please sir, I just said something stupid.”
He looked at me without emotion. “Mr. Dawes, you may address me as Lord Sifer or ‘my lord.’ Please remove your hand from my arm.”
I snatched my hand away. “Forgive me, my lord.”
He nodded. “Mr. Dawes, what happens to Director Kagawa is not your concern.”
“But sir! My lord! I didn’t mean what I said. You can’t do anything to him just because of what I said!”
He raised his eyebrows. “Was what you said untrue?”
I flushed. “No, my lord, but it’s not what it sounds like…”
“Mr. Dawes, I’m sure you’re very brilliant when it comes to the physical sciences. I would not be in the position I am in if I were not also very good at what I do. I won’t presume to tell you how to conduct your work, and I expect the same courtesy in return.”
My heart dropped. “Please,” I begged.
“Good evening, Mr. Dawes,” he said. I watched in despair, crawling with powerless desperation as he walked away.
-
Lord Sifer had almost disappeared down the long hall when a hand clamped around my upper arm and I was hauled into motion. It was Dr. Okoro. He didn’t look at me, his gaze fixed on something ahead as he dragged me down the hallway, fury chiseled into his profile. I wanted to say something, but I was too afraid to make a sound. It took all my attention to keep up with his angry steps without tripping.
When we got to his study, he thrust me, stumbling, into the room. He walked past me to his desk without a word, digging through the top drawer in search of something. When he didn’t find it there, he moved on to the cabinets on the left wall, then the ones on the right. He grunted in discovery and emerged from one of the cabinets with a cane in hand, which he leveled at me.
“I’ve never whipped you, boy. The thought never even crossed my mind. You’ve never given me the first reason to consider punishing you. But tonight—do you realize what you just did? What your spiteful, vengeful little speech there has just done to that man’s life!”
I forced words past the lump in my throat.
“Yes, sir. But I swear I didn’t mean it like that! I didn’t think…I was just…I just didn’t want him to come with me. You understand that, don’t you? I didn’t mean for anything else to happen! I swear it!”
“That’s why you think about what you’re going to say before you open your mouth, Jacob! That man is going to lose his assignment, or be Resettled, because you vented your petty childhood resentments in front of the wrong person.”
“I know!” I wailed. “I’m so sorry. If I could do anything to fix it I would. I tried to talk to Lord Sifer but he wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry!”
“I doubt that will bring Director Kagawa any comfort.”
I stared at the floor, wishing desperately to be anywhere else.
“Get over the desk,” he said, his voice hard.
I approached his desk and cleared a space on the surface. Without being told, I dropped my pants and undershorts before I bent over. It wasn’t the worst beating I’d ever taken, but I sobbed all the way through it.
-
When it was over, the cane clattered to the desk beside me. The door opened and closed and there was silence. I pushed myself up, scrubbing the tears from my face, and eased my pants back up with a wince. I hadn’t been caned in several years and had forgotten how much it hurt.
I looked around, but I didn’t need the confirmation that I was alone in the room. I stood there for a long time, contemplating my miseries and trying to decide what to do. The one thing I was sure I did not want to do was walk out that door. It wasn’t a well-traveled hallway but there was no way back to my room that didn’t involve walking through one or two of the high traffic areas, and facing anyone else at that moment was about the worst thing I could think of. I grabbed the blanket and curled up on the couch to meditate on my sorrows.
I woke several hours later and decided it was late enough to risk the halls. The few people I came across were servants who only glared at me as I passed, and two junior history fellows who were a little worse for the drink. I entered my room with relief.
There in my r
oom, Kirti was asleep on my bed. I was so shocked to see her that I stumbled backward against the closing door. She opened her eyes and sat up. With all that happened that evening, I hadn’t even considered that I was leaving for a least a year. More? What if I had to stay for good? It was only then that I realized I might be leaving Kirti behind forever. I saw in her face that she had already reached that conclusion.
She stood and buried her head in my shoulder. I held her, laying my cheek against the top of her head. She looked up at me. Our faces were so close together, our bodies. Leaving. Maybe forever.
I don’t know who initiated it, but we were kissing. The more we kissed the more urgent it became. My hands were tangled in her hair and clutching her close to my body.
My memories of the remainder of that night are hazy. Though I remember other sexual encounters since with almost perfect clarity, that one, my first, is just a jumble of impressions, emotions, sounds, and sensations. We clung to each other, frantic with our fears and needs until we slept, exhausted, in each other’s arms.
fg9
I woke up in the morning to the realization that I should be panicking. Kirti had been out of her room all night, which was one of the biggest infractions a student could commit. The repercussions were very serious. And yet lying there with her warm and soft against me, with all the other problems waiting for me just outside the door, I couldn’t make myself care.
She woke not long after I did. I hadn’t moved and was still wrapped around her. She looked up at me and smiled, but a crease of sadness appeared in her forehead.
“You’re leaving.”
I nodded. There was nothing else to say. She watched my face for a long moment then pecked a kiss on my lips and got up to get dressed. I watched her from the bed, wanting to say something but not sure what. She scrambled into her clothes and kissed me once more.
Fighting Gravity Page 6