Fighting Gravity Read Online Free

effect resolved into scenes of scholars poring over tablets, scientists in their labs, even the Newtonian apple falling from the tree. And one image of a lone boy staring up at a star-splashed night sky.
    The director brought us to stand before a large statue in the middle of the room, carved from ebony stone.
    “A representation of our great founder,” he intoned. “You are the twenty-second Selection.” He fixed each of us in turn with a serious look. “The process of Selection, as it is now, dates back only a hundred years. But the IIC, the idea of the IIC, is over three hundred years old.”
    He paused to make sure we were properly impressed.
    “Thirty decades before your parents were born, in the days when the people of Earth were still being liberated from their broken, squabbling nations, still recovering from their religious wars—still being consolidated into our great Empire—the new Duke Edmund, brother of our second emperor, James II, envisioned a collection of all the best minds in the world. He proposed to his brother a home for the growth of ideas, a place to nurture the great genius scattered among humanity, and thus the Imperial Intellectual Ministry was born. At its founding, it was a voluntary grouping of scientists and thinkers. As it grew in size and scope, the first building of what was to become the Imperial Intellectual Complex was constructed; the very building in which you stand.”
    We all looked around again, as if the building would look different now.
    “Every five years, twenty children are chosen for this great purpose. It is now your turn to join this illustrious institution; to add your genius to the greatest minds of your time. This is a privilege and a responsibility beyond measure. A responsibility you will take seriously. The work you do here is a sacred duty to the Empire.”
    He turned and bowed his head in reverent silence before the statue. His theatrics were entertaining, but I was already bored with them. He obviously had a high opinion of himself by way of his connection to this place.
    At the conclusion of his moment of silence, he turned back to face us. “Because this place,” he gestured to the area surrounding the statue, “is a vivid reminder of the august purpose of this institution, it is here that I teach you a very important lesson in the responsibilities you now bear and the expectations we have of your conduct.”
    He turned to me. “Mr. Dawes.” He said my name as if it tasted bad in his mouth.
    My heart stuttered and I felt my stomach hit my shoes.
    “By rights, you should not be here. Your behavior and personality scores disqualified you from Selection. However, because of your exceptionally high academic scores, your file was given special review and it was the decision of the Committee to grant you an exception. In other words, a more deserving, more appropriate child is not here because the Committee chose to ignore what you are, and excuse your obvious failings.”
    My heart was pounding in my ears. I knew what it meant to be me. Nothing good came out of the unclass. We were little better than animals. Of course they’d never allow one of us in a place like this. It was as logical and inexorable as gravity, inertia, or the speed of light in a vacuum.
    I knew.
    But I suppose I’d thought that the IIC was different. Like fairytales or null gravity. The old rules wouldn’t apply, anything was possible.
    But they did, and it wasn’t.
    “After that disgraceful scene in your home, I petitioned the Committee to reconsider. They did not. But I have been assured that, should your behavior continue in that vein, I may submit future incidents for consideration toward your removal and replacement. It is only a matter of time. I am confident that you are incapable of acting otherwise.”
    My face was hot. I was torn between paralyzing fear and an ache to punch his arrogant face.
    “Your disruptive, offensive behavior will not be tolerated. I will be