Deltas: Delta Horizon Book One

by S. Abel de Valcourt

  Deltas

  Delta Horizon Book One

  S. A. de Valcourt

  Copyright © 2021 S. Abel de Valcourt

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Cover design by: BookCoverZone

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One: Monday

  Chapter Two: Monday Night

  Chapter Three: Tuesday

  Chapter Four: Wednesday

  Chapter Five: Thursday

  Chapter Six: Thursday Night

  Chapter Seven: Friday

  Chapter Eight: Answers

  Chapter Nine: Saturday

  Chapter Ten: Goodbye

  Chapter Eleven: Year of Hell

  Chapter Twelve: Left Behind

  Chapter Thirteen: Rebirth

  About The Author

  Books By This Author

  Chapter One: Monday

  Rush week was always going to be whirlwind, or so I had been warned. When I received the acceptance letter in January for Upstate Polytechnic University, joining a fraternity was the absolute last thing on my mind. But there I was seven months later, in a large oval shoulder to shoulder with several hundred prospective pledges lining an ice skating rink with the various fraternities in the middle all showing their spirit and promoting their little clubs.

  “Why am I here Sammy? This shit ain’t me. I don’t go in for this preppy jock crap.” I whispered to my roommate who had dragged me to this ridiculous cattle call. “We go to a Polytechnic, it’s a nerd school. I am amazed they even have frats here.”

  “Fraternity. Not frat. Frat is kinda a curse word at these things, besides, it’s not about all that, it’s about the various research grants they connect to and the parties, you know… p – a – r –t – y? This is college man, open up! It’s not all books and spreadsheets anymore. You get your name on some professor’s paper, or fucking publish your own somewhere, you are going to get laid every day for the whole semester!” Sammy pushed.

  He had sold this whole thing to me already; I think he just truly didn’t want to come alone. To be just another random singular face in an ocean of strangers. Truthfully even though I barely knew him it was at least nice to have some sort of partner or wingman to not feel so lost. It was true that the collegiate organizations at UPT basically ran the school, through their vast amounts of funding and ridiculous number of patents and powerful alumni, the board of directors were little more than academic referees which made joining a fraternity or sorority more of a safety play, picking a faction who could both protect and defend you as a student for the next four to eight years depending on your degree path.

  UPT still had the standard sports teams, their diversity checklists, a traditional college environment, dorm towers and social mixers. However, in the end it had always been a research school, high on government contracts and corporate funding everything at the school screamed money, if you had an idea or particular research line no matter how esoteric, it was half feasible and not total fantasy you could find funding for it, which is one of the many reasons the school was so difficult to get into.

  My acceptance had been a surprise, my grades weren’t stellar in high school, and I wasn’t a nerd, not really. I had always felt more comfortable with the misfits, the smart kids and creative types, but was good looking and socially apt enough to move easily between cliques and social caste systems built into every teenage educational institution. Commonly I ended up with hangers on and followers without even trying. I was an alumnus, so I was sure that had helped my acceptance, both my parents attended. My mother graduated, however my father had disappeared shortly after he signed onto a patent for some robotic gyro stabilizer that now allowed two legged robots to be able to stand up straight while navigating harsh terrain. A patent administered by the school, but still garnered my mother and I a nice supplemental income over the years.

  There was enough money that tuition wouldn’t be any problem, books, fees; all the ridiculous loans and financial manipulations that schools put their students through wouldn’t be difficult to navigate.

  “So, we have said our piece, I and the other co-chairmen hope that you all have learned a bit about our various organizations. Don’t make your decisions now, tonight is the tour of houses we invite everyone out to the Greek Walk, where you can tour the grounds of the various Lodges and we can get a chance to meet you. See you tonight!” shouted some charismatic front man from the Sigma Lodge over the loudspeaker.

  By now my shoes had nearly frozen to the ice below my feet, with so many people on the rink at once a sticky glaze had developed from all the body heat.

  “So, who are you going for?” Sammy prodded, “I am thinking Sigma they seem to know their stuff, or maybe the Gammas?” Sammy seemed the type to need a shove and the confidence of another’s acceptance before he would make a decision.

  “My opinion, I think you should go Gamma. Go with who you are, not who you imagine yourself to be.” I replied.

  “What are you trying to say, I’m not good enough to be a Sigma?” Sammy seemed offended.

  “Not like that, Sigmas seem like the popular posh kids from High School, rich parents, designer clothes, fast cars, dashing businessmen who know how to turn a dollar. The types that will take your ideas and patent them and become billionaires, and then allow you to work for them.” I laughed.

  “Gammas seem more of a good mix to you?” He questioned.

  “Well yea, their entire presentation was on real world applications and charity work. Seems right up your alley. I wouldn’t join Sigma just because they are pretty and shiny, look for more benefits to you, college doesn’t last forever.” I finished.

  “So you came, are you going to manage to do the tour of houses tonight? Still not going to join one?” he pushed.

  “I dunno man, it seems like a good idea to join one but nothing out here really inspired me, I’m not nearly as smart as some of these guys, I am pretty average. I am still amazed I even got accepted to this school.” I offered honestly.

  “Whatever man, I’m sure you will find something. I am gonna go talk to the Sigmas, see you later tonight?” Sammy started to walk away, doing his best to manage the sliding on the icy floor.

  “Yea, probably. School doesn’t start for another week, nothing else to do.” I called after him, but he had stopped listening, the shiny Sigmas were waiting.

  Freshman year was going to be difficult here. I never felt I could fit in solidly with any particular group, I was good at pretending to fit in and once the act was seen through I was able to move on to another clique. Thankfully since my graduating class had nearly two thousand students, new groups had never been a problem to find. I didn’t like the idea of artificially tying myself to a single group forever based on a weeks worth of recruiting and a semester to toeing the line.

  The parking lots of the dorm tower were full, not only with cars and moving trucks, but carts and people. Moving into the dorms was a ridiculous affair showing all manner of personality types. From the helicopter parents with brand new store bought dorm schottisches and clutter, rice makers, toaster ovens and color coded clothes hangers, all the way to a guy walking up with a trash bag full of clothes and a backpack of supplies.

  “He’s a senior, it’s his last year in the dorms.” A femal
e voice came from behind me, she must have caught me looking at him and chuckling. “When he was a freshman, he showed up with a moving van and half his distant relations. It was like a parade.” She laughed. “Hi, I am Mackayla. I am a senior too, the RA for floor twelve. Freshman?”

  “Is it that obvious? I moved in two days ago, floor twenty one. I replied.

  “Oh, way up top! Someone didn’t like you much! What’s your name, you didn’t say?” she pushed.

  “Simon, my name is Simon. Sorry my manners are poor, not much sleep the past few weeks getting ready for all this.” I laughed.

  “Well, in about two weeks when you are late for class and the elevator doesn’t work that morning, you are going to be cursing whoever assigned you to the top floor Simon.” Mackayla shook her head, “good luck!” and walked away.

  She wasn’t joking, the stairwells were steep and cold, unforgiving cinderblock tubes, I already visited them once. Yet another benefit of the Greek life on campus, they all had their own housing. It was that point I decided that Sammy was probably right, that trying out one of these frats was probably a good idea. Twenty one flights of stairs at eight o’clock in the morning before a chemistry exam didn’t sound appealing at all.

  Thankfully, today the elevators worked and I was back in my dorm room quickly even after having to stop at six other floors as pairs of people carrying boxes and computer parts shuffled off to their various floors.

  The room was small, two beds, two desks, two dressers, a sink and a shared bathroom between our room and the next. Thankfully floor 21 didn’t have community hall showers and bathrooms. Our sharing with three others, rather than thirty was seen as quite a luxury.

  Sammy had wanted to stack our beds, offering me the top bunk to make the room less divided and giving us more floor space, suggesting we move in a couch. But when he walked in with two bags of laundry and emptied them on his mattress with no sheets and had slept on the pile for the past two nights I was determined to have our own delineated spaces. His, a pile of laundry mixed in a hodgepodge of clean and dirty, mine almost the polar opposite, organized and orderly. I even made my bed every morning, I think in a reaction to the chaos lurking on the other side of the room.

  Classes didn’t start for a week, it was all Rush Week and parties for undergraduates, grant petitions and research proposals for graduate students. I had nothing at all to do, so I slept most of that afternoon and watched stupid videos on my computer.

  “Get up man, you are going to be late!” Sammy shoved me awake.

  “What the fuck man, I’m sleeping.” I stammered.

  “Greek walk starts in thirty minutes.”

  “I’m not going to be the first one at the ribbon to try and sell myself to those people, you go, I will be there later.” I rolled back over.

  “Whatever man, it’s only the biggest decision of the year, but hey, stay in bed! Maybe they will come to you!” Sammy chided and left.

  “Ugh!”

  I expected a bit of friction, but waking your roommate from a nap was just bad form. A shower, that was what I needed. Best part about the dorms was the boiler in the basement, unlimited hot water. My first shower before anyone else arrived had been two hours of flesh searing steam and wonderful high water pressure, best shower I had ever had.

  “Well, here’s to everything.” I said and grabbed a warm beer from under the bed, bringing it with me to the shower.

  As expected the hot water flowed and the steam rose. Interestingly warm beer in a hot shower is a delight few have had the depravity of spirit to enjoy, but this was college. Not so eager to get moving, my shower was a bit longer than it should have been. Water turned off, towel dried and tossed over my shoulder the door opened behind me and I turned around.

  “Oh shit!” I said and made a feeble attempt to hide my manhood.

  “Well hello there big boy!” the blonde who had opened the door mocked as she looked me over. “Took a long enough shower, this going to be a habit?” she shook her head, towel and shampoo under her arm.

  “Sorry, I didn’t know you were waiting. There are girls on this floor? Or?”

  “Yea, twenty one is a co-ed floor. You didn’t know that, half the guys in school beg to be on one of these floors. Oh, and by the way the doors in here lock from the inside, so we don’t need to see Mr. Happy there, but don’t lock us out completely please because I will come pee on your bed if you lock me out of the bathroom.”

  “Wait, what?!”

  “Go away dumbass, I gotta pee!”

  “Oh! Ok, ok, sorry.” I stammered and closed the door behind me only to hear the lock click instantly.

  “I am Marcie by the way!” she called out while doing her business.

  “Simon, I’m Simon.” I called out while getting dressed.

  What do you wear to try and impress a bunch of strangers at a party at a nerd school? I stared into my dresser thinking to myself. Jeans and a flannel it is!

  My standard uniform of the day seemed appropriate and comfortable. My father’s watch and ring, hair brushed and a splash of cologne because well, it’s college and who wants to stink?

  As I made my way down the hall I recognized trouble.

  “Elevators broke, gonna have to take the stairs!” someone called behind me.

  “Shit.” I shook my head and turned on my heels to take the stairs. “It’s going to be a long year.”

  The stairwells filled quickly, arms filled with boxes and mattress pads, backpacks and suitcases, cases of bottled water and boxes of snacks. Mundane items carried by students and various family members to be stocked away in their various hovels for the year. Upturned eyes imparted dirty looks of exhaustion as I came down with empty hands, those struggling to climb the mountain were piercing, just the angry aggression of the weary and frustrated.

  “Move in week, and away we go!” I thought to myself.

  Finally down and free of the move in crowd night had fallen and a steady stream of people headed toward Greek Row.

  Chapter Two: Monday Night

  The party was large, twenty or so continuous house parties spilled out into the streets and alleys. First stop was the Sigma Lodge, prime real estate right up front facing the administration building, with a gaudy bronze statue of some random pseudo important alumnus holding a mirror that encourage the viewer to “Be your best self, as a Sigma!” with streamers, pennants and flags covering the yard, building and statue.

  At the door I was handed a plastic cup filled with cheap keg beer and a pat on the back, “Welcome to Sigma Lodge!” somebody shouted with another pat on the back.

  Sammy wasn’t hard to find, handing out fliers near the stairs and also offering a disingenuous “Welcome to Sigma Lodge!” call while holding out a flier.

  “Sammy!” I called, “Guess you made your decision then!”

  “Yea, Sigma is the best dude, they even have a pool on the roof, you should check it out!” he offered me a flier.

  “Did you even make it to any of the other houses?” I laughed, probably unintentionally insultingly.

  “Nah man, it’s cool, I’m in the right place!” he nudged me “Welcome to Sigma Lodge!” loudly and a pat on the back. “Simon, we can talk later, I’m not really supposed to talk to anyone other than Sigma pledges and brothers since I declared for them, pledge rules.” He whispered.

  “Wow, ok. That’s weird man, but good luck.” I offered and walked away.

  I took my cup of free beer and walked town the street, the farther down I got the crowds got a bit smaller and there were less antics of drunkenness.

  Once I found the Gamma house I was intrigued. They had been the only group that earlier had seemed to be balanced and not stereotypical or cliché. Brick house, clean yard, a few people in small groups talking in the yard and on the patio, all with beers in hand.

  “Welcome to Gamma House!” someone called and another beer slid into my hand. But thankfully, no abrupt pat on the back followed.

  The sororities self rec
ruited their girls, and applications and interviews flowed over the summer. So all the Frat Lodges filled their houses with the girls from their sister Greek organizations; the last thing a straight college guy wanted to see walking in was a house full of guys and Gamma was no exception. Pretty girls, in their little Greek togas each like their own wannabe Aphrodite draped here and there like decorations. The whole act was ridiculous but repeated at every house in the row.

  “What’s your name?” an Aphrodite brushed up against me and nearly spilled my beer.

  “Simon, you?” I smiled and raised my class a bit in greeting.

  “Tammy. You thinking of joining the Gammas?” She seemed excited, overly and artificially so.

  “My roommate joined the Sigmas, but they didn’t seem right for me. I am just doing the tour, and the beer is free. You know?” I shrugged trying to be polite.

  “Just here for the free beer then?” she seemed disappointed.

  “No, not like that. Just not sure about this whole thing. Feels like a parade, or Marti Gras. Is it always like this? I thought UPT was a nerd school?” I tried to sound polite.

  “Oh it is, sort of. But more students from this school are millionaires before their thirties than any other school in the world. So a lot of girls are here for their MRS degree, you know?” she laughed and shook her head.

  “That you?” I gave her an odd look.

  “Oh me? No, I’m double majoring in game theory and astrogeology. I will be neck deep in a book by next week!” she laughed.

  “Game theory and Astrogeology? Holy shit Tammy, I think you are the smartest person in the room.” I took a drink “Certainly smarter than I am!”

  She laughed and offered, “You might be surprised, people are into some next level shit here. Astrogeology is pretty tame compared to some of the specialized degree plans some of these people are on.”

  “Well, I am pretty boring I guess. Single major in Chemistry.” I shrugged.