Children of Gravity

by E. R. Jess

  “You have no idea what's coming out here. You'd better kill us because you'll have no chance. I don't care how strong or fast you are,” Morgan said, blood dripping.

  Makz looked at Kagan and said, “He's right. If you want to protect them, if you want to protect her, we have to do it.”

  Kagan looked at the gun in Makz's right hand. A voice in his head told him to kill them, take their guns, hide their bodies, kill every last one of them. Kagan extended his hand toward the pistol. Makz looked at him, then handed it over.

  Kagan felt the gun in his hand. He squeezed the grip. He studied it for a while before dropping the clip out and popping the round in the chamber into the air. He threw the gun down.

  “It doesn't matter, there's no leniency, if that's what you're hoping for,” Morgan said.

  Makz shrugged, “Then we'll be seeing you again.”

  Morgan smiled grimly and nodded.

  Kagan turned on his heels and left the alley. The night was yellow with fire and ash.

  The group met up with the UA-X reached a moonlit crossroad. Alessa and Eight had managed to elude drones and patrols narrowly, and there was trouble on their heels. Everyone knew that they couldn't linger to wait for Kagan.

  They were moving again. As if there was ever really a pause in their constant motion. They were one living thing. A wandering creature. Each man and woman a limb or organ. Fifty-one people. A wounded creature stumbling toward a new home.

  The night flowed soundlessly above and led the way west, and the pacifists watched their feet and kept to themselves. Soon the spaces between footfalls shortened. No one wanted to stop.

  Solidly encased in rust and sediment was a corrugated steel building. A dome-shaped building pocked with holes bigger than its windows was home for the night.

  Everyone knew what to do. Dernen got the five children off to a clean corner with the warmest blankets. Sam tended to a few sedation needle punctures and a broken ankle. Vorn and Eight walked the perimeter to make sure no one else lived there.

  The children managed to drift off to sleep, but very few others could follow them. A simple perimeter laser system was set up, but it wouldn't save them against all threats. There were hoverjets skimming the rooftops not far from them. Emerald spotlights dug their way down though the skylights of the old warehouse. Blueish laser light criss-crossed the overhead darkness. The high-pitched whine of treaded tanks and the ground shaking humm-thump-humm-thump of hover trucks littered the city streets not ten blocks away. UCM wasn’t looking for anyone at that point. They were terrorizing. They were angry and determined. They were driving a campaign of fear deep into the recesses of the Free City and hoping to stomp on the few stray insects that scurried out in confusion. No one knew the exact scale of the operation that hunted the pacifists and flushed out a dozen other underground groups from their hiding places. It was too big and too much. UPC was slashing and burning their neighbors and it seemed to have no end. The perfect were getting scared, uneasy. Poverty out their windows. Their genetics told them to hate. ‘Pacifist threat’. And the children were sleeping restlessly in a cold place.

  Letters in the Dust

  Makz and Kagan found refuge in a building's basement. They stopped to rest in the remnants of a parking garage guard shack. Both men were bruised and beaten, spattered with blood, exhausted. It was the first time the two had sat together.

  Makz tossed Kagan a flask. Kagan caught it and swirled the liquid around inside. Makz said, “So, sorry I was going to kill you a while back,” he gave an awkward grin.

  “Nothing new,” Kagan replied and set the flask down.

  Makz leaned in. “This whole philosophy of yours, it didn’t happen as you planned, but at least you tried. You didn’t let anything get in your way. You pulled all of your strength together. You burned bridges that needed to be burned, and you hid your pride and grit your teeth. It was not enough. But at least you tried.”

  “I don't have anything you need.” Kagan said.

  Makz grimaced. “I don't need anything. Just saying. I thought that if I helped with the Redlist, then I would be rid of everything that bothered me my whole life. All those loose ends.”

  “I can't offer you much solace. I've broken someone's trust. No one ever trusted you,” Kagan said.

  “Can't argue with that,” Makz agreed, “And I'm sorry about Jenna, she had me on a tight leash.”

  Kagan rubbed his eyes. He felt sick to his stomach and tried to regulate his breathing. “They won't make it out of this one, not without some help,” he said.

  Makz said, “If you're thinking what I'm thinking, then, well, that's a challenge I'm up for.”

  Kagan looked up at their ceiling. “We can protect them. They don't have to know.”

  “I imagine the fringes are having real problems right about now, not much to go back to,” Makz said and added, “I'm in. And it wouldn't hurt if we found Jenna. I not only have a long score to settle, but she may still be a danger to your friends, people that just might not deserve it.”

  Kagan revealed a small smile, something he hadn't done in a long while. He said, “I'm glad you didn't kill me, Makz.”

  Makz reached over and took his flask back. “You may want to turn the tables someday. I'm not to be trusted.”

  “Few are,” Kagan said simply.

  Kagan and Makz worked their way to the top of the parking garage. They surveyed the burning landscape. The rusty edge of the Free City was in flames from the north to the south. To the west, Alessa and the rest were somewhere among the bones of old buildings. Gunfire rattled. Tanks thumped over the highways.

  Makz nodded to a crop of warehouse-sized buildings. “They should be meeting up there if all went well enough.”

  “And Jenna went to the south and west. Where will she go?” Kagan asked.

  “Path of least resistance, if there are any of those. I'd say she will be heading toward those flattened buildings. A dead area to hide in. No rusters, no UPC,” he answered.

  “She feels guilty,” Kagan said.

  Makz shrugged, “Could be. But she's determined. She's resourceful and will go back after Alessa.”

  Kagan turned and walked to a battered car decaying at the top of the garage. “I don't want to join the group yet. You can go to Alessa and the others. Keep them alive.”

  “Good. I don't think Jenna will let me get too close to her,” Makz said, elated. He waved his hand behind him as he left the roof. “See you when I see you.”

  Kagan gave him a short smile. After he was gone, Kagan opened the car door, forced it open, breaking it free of rust and soot. He pushed cobwebs aside and sat in the driver's seat, or what was left of it. It was an old hybrid vehicle. He closed the door and rested his arms over the steering wheel for a while. He closed his eyes and shut out the noise of the world. The Antikythera program was silent, as it was busy healing his body again. He had torn ligaments and splintered muscles from fighting the soldiers. Bruised bone that he didn't feel. The program was hard at work and Kagan was himself for a blessed moment. He opened the glove box and a few papers spilled out. An owner's manual, a mileage logbook and pen. He leafed through the book. He read the stories of the previous owner's travels in numerical form. Kagan took the pen and began writing.

  I've been fighting for so long that I can't tell if I need to or have to. We, you and I, are on the doorstep to bliss. To whomever reads this, please, go back to the City-State, back to UPC. Get conformed. Let them have you, body and soul. There is nothing out here for you. I don't know the difference between home and hell, so I'm pressing on. But please, turn around. If you don't die out here in the dust, then your shell will wander until you don't know who you are.

  0

  Alessa and her handful of pacifists struggled their way through near-impassable ruins. Eight came back from scouting ahead and saw that the group had run into trouble. Eight saw Alessa and ran over. He asked if she was alright. Alessa stayed silent as she helped an injured man limp over to the re
st of the group.

  Eight jumped up into the UA-X and took Vorn's shoulder and nodded.

  “What'd I miss?” Eight asked.

  “An armed drone,” Vorn said.

  Eight cursed, “I don't see how we can get out of this.”

  Vorn's heart sank, but he sat up in his seat and put the UA-X into gear. “Just give me the word. When everyone is settled, we'll keep putting city between us and this new purge.”

  Eight patted his arm and took off. He checked on everyone, did another head count. Sam was wrapping blistered feet in cloth; many shoes had worn to nothing in just a few hours. Dernen was gathered with the children and elderly, passing out food and medicine. Alessa was gone. Eight looked all around the vehicle, around the people on foot, and couldn't find her among them. He knew where she was suddenly, and turned his body to see. Alessa had started walking down the road by herself.

  Eight jogged up to her.

  She didn't glance at him when she said, “We linger too much. Almost got us killed this time.”

  “You may be right. We do the job for the bad guys if we run ourselves ragged, though,” Eight replied.

  Alessa kept walking.

  “Kagan stayed behind,” Eight said.

  “He did.”

  Eight swallowed a sigh, “He can take care of himself. He's gotten out of worse.”

  “And how did he get out of those situations?” Alessa asked patiently.

  Eight said plainly, “He fought his way out.”

  Alessa grimaced. She turned to Eight as she walked, “I suppose you think I wanted him to die back there, die instead of fight?”

  Eight stopped her by standing in her way. “No, I think you'd rather we were all far from here. No one here will let you or any of us get hurt. No one here will stand idly by.”

  “What will you do?”

  “You know what I would do.”

  Alessa rubbed her eyes clear. “Yeah. And so would I.”

  Eight took her shoulders and turned her around. “Until that time, until then, we will do what we can to hide and escape. We are not yet lost.”

  Alessa took a deep breath and nodded, “We just have to move. If we keep moving I will feel okay.”

  “Then that's what we'll do,” Eight said as he took her back to the group.

  Eight looked down to her feet, her boots were failing, blood dripped from them, her gait was awkward. “We won't stop moving, not until we're home.”

  The UA-X hummed to life. A sandy breeze preceded them as the pacifists moved directly west. They left behind friends and enemies alike. Beyond the highway was Sacria, the hollowed-out remains of the American Midwest. Ancient cities of industry settled in a new dust bowl.

  Let's Get Gone

  Revan was airlifted via hoverjet to Sacria. The side of his face was pressed against a window and he watched the charred landscape slip by. His mind was foggy. He could not process what he saw. He only viewed it. He blinked slowly and his breath was shallow. Dr. Epps sat by him, watching Revan with his fist to his lips. The doctor ran a medical scanner over Revan's forehead and sat back.

  Dr. Epps asked, “What do you see out there?”

  Revan turned slightly and tried to focus his eyes. He replied, “A forest.”

  The doctor looked past him and saw the steel beams and tall stands of concrete reaching up to the sky in a tangled wasteland. “It looks like a forest, yes. This is your old home. You were once the ruler of all you see, such as it is.”

  “Where are we going?” Revan asked.

  “We are going to a place that can help you. We haven't much time until you'll be under review by the controllers,” Epps answered.

  “I used to live in this forest?” Revan asked, his words mumbled as if he was drugged.

  “Yes, Revan. You were a great ruler who oversaw masses of people.”

  Revan squinted to see something familiar out in his 'forest', but was met only with a headache for his trouble. “I can't remember.”

  Dr. Epps said, “I know. You soon will.”

  The hoverjet glided into a settlement at the foot of a massive pair of buildings. The buildings were the tallest structures left standing in Sacria, two semi-circles split open and turned forty degrees from each other. “This is Preed, the last bastion of the free people of the wasteland. From here on out it's wilderness,” the doctor said as he helped Revan out of his seat.

  Revan hesitated when he took another look out of the window. Rows of men stood outside the hoverjet's landing platform. They wore square goggles and facemasks. The facemasks had tubes that extended from their mouths to the backpack of the person in front of them. “Who are they?” Revan asked with no little fear.

  “They are warders, the protectors of this place,” Epps said as he led Revan out of the hoverjet hatch. The men stood silently at attention as the doctor and Revan walked though Preed's streets to the main buildings. Revan looked up into the breast of the buildings and gasped. The doctor didn't let him slow, but instead tugged him along. The doctor jerked him violently upright. “Mr. Kore, ahead is your salvation. You will do as I say.”

  “What is that place, doctor?” Revan asked, trying to cower behind him.

  “That is Ortus,” the doctor said without another word.

  Dr. Epps and Revan walked up a set of steps into a low and flat building preceding the semi-circle structures. More of the masked men stood watch, staring as they approached from behind ash-covered goggles. They continued, walking up to a man standing apart from the guards. He was taller than the rest, standing well over two meters. He stepped forward as he removed his facemask. His eyes were lined with soot and age, his face streaked with scars and burns. He nodded to the doctor and looked down to Revan, who was breathing heavily and looked as if he was about to run away.

  The man spoke, “This is what is left of Kore.”

  Doctor Epps brought Revan up the steps and addressed the man. “Mar. I've made little progress. Can you cull the memories from him? We've little time.”

  Mar grinned lightly. “I don't do favors for enemies.”

  “Conformity is our enemy now. Revan, when he was the Minister of UCM, never sent soldiers out to your campus. He did his best to keep you out of the sights of UPC. He did this for you because he knew that he might have to come here seeking guidance someday,” Doctor Epps said patiently.

  Mar cleared his throat. “It is easy to claim this. It is also possible that his reach never extended this far. I believe that he would have come here eventually, he would have wiped us out and left me for dead. It would be best if you let him flee, as he obviously wants to do. Let him find an end in the wastes. An end fitting for a once-great leader.”

  Doctor Epps sighed and shook his head. “It seems the farther out you get from the City-State, the more feral humans become. You were once cunning. That bright glow on the horizon won't seem too far away soon. UPC will absorb you, your people, and every molecule of the planet before this eon is done. Please, just read his memories and see if he can be saved.”

  “Even if I did this, what is the point? Even if I can bring him back, he will never regain the power that UPC had bestowed on him,” Mar said in a stern whisper.

  Doctor Epps matched his whisper and replied, “We need the leader he once was. He had begun to rebuild his empire but was reconformed before implementing his plans. All I ask for is an attempt.”

  Mar swallowed his pride and breathed hard through his nose. “I will do this. But I will be included in these plans. Remind him of that if I succeed,” Mar said, then walked over to face Revan closely.

  Revan recoiled, but Mar grabbed his neck, holding it easily in one hand. Mar then began to delve him, to read his memories. Mar was an Auspex. He read the surface of Revan's mind quickly, making a rough assessment. Mar saw out-of-focus images, half-burned family photos, shaky camera footage of his life. Revan, The Elder, may have been in there somewhere, but it would not be easy. Mar then dropped his brow and clenched his jaw as he began a more invas
ive exploration of Revan's mind. Revan's brain was set aflame. The headache he felt was so total and intense, and Revan, having no capacity to understand it, could only react by screaming into the sky. Mar mashed his teeth and delved into the cloudy recesses of Revan's nearly-erased recollections. He dug around for the signs of a path. A path that would lead to a place in Revan's mind where all of his personality and memories could be hiding from the usually thorough brainwashing performed by UPC. Revan could scream no more. The pain was his entire world. Mar pulled free of his mind and ended the delving. He lowered Revan to the steps, leaving him crumpled in a ball.

  Mar spoke, out of breath, “Bring him inside. There is hope.”

  The doctor complied. He and some guards lifted Revan up and took him into Ortus.

  Doctor Epps' arms were folded as he looked over the stark landscape from an Ortus tower window. A woman approached, Meril, Mar's second in command. She was also burned and scarred, and where scars did not cover, words and figures were tattooed, a written record of each scar, dates and detailed medical descriptions of each wound. She stood next to the doctor and overlooked the land with him.

  “How do we know you're not a conformed agent?” Meril asked simply.