“See you at breakfast,” she said, and left.
If I’d thought entering the dining hall the night before with the emperor had been uncomfortable, it was nothing compared to walking in for breakfast that morning. Four steps into the room, the sudden silence was palpable. It was like I had walked into a thick, sticky gunk that became more and more viscous with every step.
I made it to my table and found Chuck there, but no Kirti. I took my usual spot beside him. I tried to ignore my tablemates but I didn’t miss the glares Chuck was giving out, daring them to say or do anything to me.
The conversation in the room resumed, though at my table there was a horrid, stifling quiet. Kirti soon entered and sat beside me. She acted normal; normal as anything was that morning. No one looked at her any more than usual and I wondered if anyone knew she hadn’t slept in her room last night. Of course, whether our classmates did or didn’t realize wasn’t the problem. The dorm head wouldn’t have missed it and he was the one that mattered.
She gave me a sad smile and watched as the members of the head table entered the room. Director Kagawa, of course, was not there. When crushing disappointment settled in my chest, I realized I had been holding out hope that he would be among them; that nothing would have changed. The administrators took their places, leaving the director’s chair empty. Mr. Harris, to the immediate right, spoke.
“As you are all aware, Director Kagawa is no longer with us. I will be filling in for him until a permanent replacement can be selected.” He offered the blessing and we sat.
When I thought about it later I concluded that Chuck must have threatened our tablemates before I’d arrived. No one said a word to me, contenting themselves with withering glares. I did my best to pretend I couldn’t see them.
At the conclusion of breakfast I was summoned to the director’s office. I felt an irrational stab of panic, but reminded myself that the director’s office no longer belonged to Kagawa, which made me feel worse. I went, dragging my feet, and reported to the functionary outside the office. She looked daggers at me but sent me in.
I opened the door with sweaty hands, more afraid to enter that office than I had ever been. Mr. Harris looked up from behind the big desk. “Come in, Mr. Dawes.” I took my place before the desk and waited. “You may have a seat if you’d like.”
I stared at him, thrown off balance.
“You’re not here for discipline, Mr. Dawes. Have a seat. We have a lot to talk about.”
I dropped into the chair, stunned. He smiled. I was baffled.
I knew very little about Mr. Harris. He had been the second highest administrator at the IIC, under Kagawa. He was very young for such a high position at such an important facility. I had almost no previous experience with him, but I’d never had any reason to think ill of him. Of course, I’d never had any reason to think of him at all.
He watched me for a moment, maybe to let me get my bearings. Taking the opportunity offered by his silence I blurted out, “Mr. Harris, I’m very sorry for what happened last night with Director Kagawa. I promise, sir, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“You do?” It felt like we weren’t speaking the same language. That whatever he was replying to couldn’t be what I’d said.
He smiled again. “Jacob—may I call you Jacob?” I nodded dumbly. “Jacob, I was assigned here not long after you arrived. I’ve seen what happened between you and Kagawa, and I’ve heard more. I’ve heard things that you didn’t, things that Kagawa would say behind closed doors. I never agreed with his treatment of you and I said so on many occasions. He did you a great wrong, and could have deprived the Empire of your talent. I respected and liked the man for many reasons but his treatment of you was unconscionable. It’s not your fault that he is now suffering the consequences of his own errors of judgment.”
I was speechless. “No one blames you for what happened,” he said. I tried to examine his face without staring. I couldn’t decide if he was trying to tease me in some way, or maybe trick me. “OK, I don’t blame you for what happened.” That still seemed unlikely, but a bit more believable. I didn’t know what to say.
“I received your reassignment documents this morning,” he told me, and chuckled when I straightened in surprise. “Yes, very efficient, aren’t they? I’m envious.”
“Reassignment, sir? But isn’t it a temporary assignment?”
“No,” he said. “You’ve been reassigned to the palace as a Scientist in Residence.”
It was a rare thing, but it did happen. Almost always, it was an artist who was reassigned to the palace, sometimes a talented medical doctor or historian. Never a physicist. And it was always a very senior fellow, in any case.
“But, sir, I haven’t even finished my basic education yet.” There wasn’t as much power behind my objection as I’d intended. I already felt defeated; run over and crushed and discarded.
“Arrangements have been made for your long-distance studies. There is also, of course, lab work which you’ll have the facilities for. Tutors will be provided if necessary. By keeping to the schedule of assigned work, you will keep pace with your classmates and graduate from your basic education when they do.”
“And my secondary education?”
“No specific provisions have been made yet, but I have no doubt that matter will be addressed when the time comes.”
I sat there feeling helpless, as every objection I could think of withered and died.
Only hours before, I’d have insisted that, at fifteen, I was a man. But now I wanted to protest that I was too young for this, that they couldn’t send me away forever. Though I couldn’t blame them for wanting to. Not after last night. But it was all a big mistake, I hadn’t meant to do it. My life, my work was here. Kirti and Chuck and Dr. Okoro were here. A year in a lab in space sounded like an impossible dream come true, but I would have handed it all back if it meant I could stay at the IIC for life. Within a day, everything had been turned upside down. I wished the emperor had never come.
It was hard to fight back tears.
“If you don’t have any questions, Jacob, you may go if you’d like. We can talk more later.”
I stood. “I’ve been reassigned?” He nodded. “So do I still go to class now?”
He shook his head. “You can, but there’s no requirement for you to do so. You’ve already been released from your assignment here. Your status is that of a guest.”
I was beyond shock. One misery piled on top of the next. “How much longer am I here?” I managed in a strangled whisper.
“A transport will be arriving for you in nine days.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. I nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
I moved toward the door. “Jacob, one more thing.” I stopped. “If you would do me a small favor? Your friend, Kirti Sachar, if you could give her a message for me? There was a malfunction in her door sensor that made it appear as if she didn’t return to her room last night. Please let her know that we’re aware of the error and that it’s been taken care of.”
I froze. “Yes, sir.”
“Of course, you wouldn’t have had to worry about that had it been you,” he continued. “No curfew worries when you’re a guest. Why, if you didn’t sleep in your own room for the remainder of your stay, there’d be no issue at all.”
I turned back to him in astonishment, certain he couldn’t be saying what he seemed to be saying.
“You’ll pass on the message for me?”
“Yes…yes, sir.” Stupefied, I left the room.
-
I wandered around the building for a long time. All my classmates—former classmates—were at their studies. I could have gone to class, but I couldn’t bear the thought of their censure.
I was angry. At myself, at the world, at the emperor. It really was all his fault. If he hadn’t come, none of this would have happened. If he hadn’t tricked me into saying that about Kagawa. If he hadn
’t snatched me out of my life without so much as a by-your-leave. Everything had gone wrong. Everything. I had lost everything. I wanted nothing to do with that horrible lab on that hateful ship. And there was no way in hell I was ever saying “May the emperor live forever” again. I wished he’d die.
I shivered and looked around, even though I hadn’t said that near-blasphemy aloud.
After a time, I found myself standing before Dr. Okoro’s door. I hesitated there, not sure whether I was trying to encounter or avoid him. I wanted to see him, to talk to him, to pour out all my fears and anguish. But I dreaded finding him still angry, turning me away. I dreaded his disappointment.
I must have stood in front of the door for a full fifteen minutes. Rallying my courage, I entered the study.
It was empty. It looked like no one had been there since I’d left in the wee hours of the morning. The blanket lay where I had tossed it over the arm of the couch. The cane was on the desk. I wanted to put it away, to hide that reminder of the night before, but I didn’t. I didn’t feel I had the right. Instead I folded the blanket and draped it over the back of the couch. It looked odd that way, so I shook it back out, balled it up, and shoved it against one of the arms of the couch like a throw pillow.
I looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. I remembered the eight-year-old boy who hadn’t known why he was here, scared, confused. Who didn’t know that everything would change the moment he entered the room. I looked at the jumble of experiments and tools that lay in disarray over the tables.
I stood in front of our current project, examining the precisely designed and calibrated experiment; such a contrast to the haphazardness of the room behind. Each instrument and tool set in a spot convenient for its use. With an unfamiliar hesitation, I activated the central heat pad, reaching for the pyrometer as if afraid of being caught doing something I shouldn’t. But before long I’d lost myself in the work.
The door opened and closed behind me. I couldn’t move. My shoulders tightened. I could hear him move to the desk and pick up the cane. My breath caught. The drawer opened, something clattered, it closed.
His hand settled on my shoulder. I flinched in spite of myself. “Jacob,” he said, “Jacob, look at me.”
I obeyed. He examined my face and laid his hand against my cheek. “I’ve been a fool as well,” he said. “Many times. Are we all right?”
“Yes, sir.” He patted my cheek with a wan smile, and dropped his hand and his gaze to the work in front of me.
We worked together for the remainder of the day, eating lunch in the study. I didn’t want to leave when dinnertime came, but he insisted.
“Hiding from your problems wouldn’t make them go away,” he said.
We walked together to the dining hall. I hesitated in the doorway. There was no place for me here anymore. Not really. They weren’t going to make me sit at the head table, like a guest, were they?
No one stopped me or said anything about seating, so I went to my normal table and dropped into my seat.
“You weren’t in class today,” Chuck said.
I shook my head, looking down at my plate. “No.”
“So that’s it?”
I didn’t want to answer. I didn’t want to say it, make it real. “Yes.” I looked up at him. “That’s it. I’ve been reassigned. I’m just a guest here now.”
The table fell silent. Kirti gasped.
“So move,” Sasha said. “You don’t belong here anymore.”
I glared at him.
“Why are you still here?” he pressed.
“Where would you have me eat?”
He shrugged. “Not here. You’re ruining people’s food.”
I was already halfway to my feet when Chuck’s hand clamped onto my arm and dragged me back down.
“Don’t,” he hissed.
I wondered if guests could be punished for fighting. But Chuck was right, and I was fed up with creating problems for myself. I was sure I didn’t want to have to appear before Mr. Harris for making a disturbance. Not because I was afraid of him, but because I didn’t want to lose his good opinion. I didn’t have many left.
I stayed in my seat and ignored Sasha as well as I could.
When the meal was over, Kirti slipped her hand into mine. “Walk by the lake?” she suggested. I nodded.
-
Hand in hand we exited the building into the cold, late winter night; our breath silvery clouds in the light of the near-full moon. In silence we walked down to the water’s edge. The most ambitious waves lapped against my shoes and dampness crept through my socks. Still we said nothing.
“It’s not a temporary assignment?” she asked.
“No.” I couldn’t bear to look at her. I tipped my head back, staring at the field of stars. All of a sudden I remembered the boy in the mural in the lobby and I shivered.
“Why?” Her voice was anguished.
I squeezed her hand tighter. “I don’t know.”
We walked past the stream we often sat beside in the spring, now covered with a layer of ice. The tumble of pebbles on the beach looked odd, threatening in the dark.
She turned to face me. “What are we going to do?”
I couldn’t meet her eye. “I’m going to go away. And you’re going to stay here. That’s what we’re going to do. There’s nothing else to do. We don’t have a choice.”
I heard the sob catch in her throat. I pulled her close and crushed her against me. We stood a long time in the moonlight before we made our way back to her room. There, we made love—for its own sake, but also as a way to hide from the future for a while.
-
The days passed. I spent the school days in the lab with Dr. Okoro. The afternoons I spent with Chuck, the evenings with Kirti. The nights were spent in her room, trying to fight off the inevitable with passion.
But the inevitable would not be denied. Eight days passed. On my last evening at the IIC there was a going-away celebration. I think most people were celebrating the fact that I would be gone. After that dinner, there was a party for the VIPs of the IIC, my teachers, Dr. Okoro, and me. I endured it as long as necessary and then excused myself to the genuine enjoyment of Kirti’s bed.
The morning came, punctual and heartless.
I finished packing my things, and went to meet the transport with Kirti at my side. Mr. Harris, Dr. Okoro, and Chuck were all waiting there.
The transport was not as long as the one that had brought the group of us to the IIC, though it was newer and still very big. A man in an Imperial uniform was waiting at the open door.
I stopped several feet away and turned to Mr. Harris.
”Thank you, sir, for everything.”
“Anytime, Jacob. Good luck to you.”
He shook my hand, nodded, and reentered the building. Chuck stepped up next and clapped his hand hard against my arm. He pulled me into a rough embrace.
“Stay out of trouble. Then again,” he grinned, “don’t. Have fun. We’ll miss you.”
“Thanks. I’ll miss you too.” He smiled, smacked me once more on the back, and walked away. It was such a Chuck-like thing to do. No lingering or prolonging the moment. Just get it done and move on. I watched his retreating back and my throat tightened.
Dr. Okoro gathered me up in a hug. “Take care of yourself and work hard. I know you will.” I could hear the tears in his voice and my vision blurred. “You’ve always made me proud of you.”
It was a moment before I could answer. “Yes, sir. Thank you. Thank you for everything.” I hugged him hard. I didn’t know how to say what I wanted him to know. He pulled back, smiled, and hurried away.
Kirti and I were alone. Tears brimmed in her eyes. I wrapped my arms around her. “I love you,” I whispered into her hair.
She choked on a sob, nodding her head. I squeezed her once more, bent to kiss her, and hurried toward the transport.
The man waiting there stepped forward.
“Mr. Dawes, my name is Jonathan. I
’ve been assigned to serve you.”
I nodded. He took my bag and led me onto the transport. He turned down the corridor but I stood at the big window by the door and watched as we moved away. I watched until Kirti was too small to see anymore. And still I stood and watched as my life faded into the distance.
-
When there was nothing of the IIC left to see, I turned away from the window. Jonathan waited nearby. He actually looked quiet, somehow fading into the background in spite of his distinctive uniform.
“Yes?” I asked.
“Sir?”
No one had ever called me sir before. It sounded strange. “Did you want something?” I asked.
“That’s supposed to be my question,” he said, not quite smiling. “I’m waiting, sir, for you to have need of me.”
“My name’s Jacob Dawes,” I said, so he’d stop calling me sir.
“Yes, sir,” he replied. I examined him, wondering if he was simple. He wasn’t that much older than me, which made “sir” even weirder.
I didn’t feel like dealing with him, or anything just then.
“Could you just tell me where the lounge is?” I asked.
“This way, sir,” he said, turning to the right.
He led me down a long, bright corridor, full of windows, to a large lounge filled with plush couches, low tables scattered with tablets, and a large vid screen on one wall. “Are there other passengers, yet?” I asked him.
“No, sir, there will be no other passengers.”
“No other passengers? You mean they sent this thing just for me?”
“Yes, sir.” His mouth twitched. “If it makes you feel better, this is the smallest type of transport maintained by the palace.”
“Oh.”
It made me nervous having the whole thing to myself. As if someone was going to discover the mistake and I’d be in trouble for it.
Jonathan took up a position at the wall behind me. He just stood there. I squirmed.
“Is there something you’re waiting for?”
“For whatever you need, sir.”
“That’s it? You’re just going to stand there until I think of something I want you to do?”
Fighting Gravity Page 7