Gravitating: Part One Read online

It’s obvious he is beyond coercing. Damn I hate when they get stupid. Before he can even blink, I shoot my arm out and use my knuckles to knock his wrist. Since he wasn’t expecting it, his arm and the gun fly out making it easier for me to grab the gun. He tries to swing his arm back to me but I already have his gun in my hand. I turn it towards him, “Please don’t, I’m sorry, I was just scared you wouldn’t pay up. Please.” he pleads.

  “No you weren’t. You just thought you could intimidate me into giving you more. You are selfish, arrogant, and greedy. You deserve nothing. If you didn’t know so much about the others, I would let you go. However, I won’t risk the team who helped me. So you will die today. Please know that this is because of your own choices and I am sorry I have to do this.”

  Bang.

  I am thankful this ingrate put a silencer on his little gun, I wouldn’t want to freak out the hangar personnel any more than I have already. Why is that my first thought after taking a life? Sometimes I hate who I am. Grabbing the guys phone I place a call to another member of the team who helped.

  “I need two men to remove left over vans from the airport. No questions. Extra thousand in your accounts for the trouble. Accounts will be active in thirty.” I hang up not bothering to wait for questions or confirmation. I toss the phone back on the body and close up the airplane. Once in the cock pit, I pull my own phone from my pocket and dial Tye.

  “What happened?” He asks immediately.

  “One got greedy, I think he’s going to do a skydive excursion over the Atlantic. I’m about to be gears up, just know that number four will not be needing the transfer and the others need an extra thousand.”

  “You good bro?”

  “I will be fine. It happens. I’m about to pull out so see you in ten.” I hang up not wanting any of his sympathy. None of us like this part of the job. I am not as bad as West is with guilt but I definitely feel it hard.

  Flying for me is a symbol of freedom. I don’t have freedom. Never have. Tye, West, and I grew up together. Our parents and us shared a giant house in Kansas. We were secluded, home schooled, and really had no idea how people outside of us were raised. We watched hours worth of news at night to discuss how to make things better, or where we thought the problems stemmed from. As children we thought the outside was just scary and horrible, because that is all we ever seen on the news.

  For the first ten years of our lives we had the same routine, wake up, eat breakfast, school together for the basics, eat lunch, schooling solo with only our accompanying parent, for our individual pursuits, dinner, news for hours, followed by discussions and bed. Six days a week we followed this same routine. On the seventh day we did chores.

  We moved to different areas of the country when I was ten. My parents said that they all had work to do in different places. West and his folks moved out to Washington, Tye and his parents moved to Los Angeles, and my parents and I moved to New York. Our schedules remained as hard as ever, with only an hour being removed from the news watching time to instead be used as discussions with the other boys over the internet. We chatted about things we would change, do differently. Our parents monitored our conversations and gave approval or disapproval on our ideas. We were separated from each other for about four years. We had no outside friends and it was hard for me, and the other boys, to be away from the only peers we knew.

  At fourteen we moved back home and I was excited that the other boys and their families came back as well. It was strange seeing how much my friends had grown and changed in the years apart. Our parents hadn’t let us video call, only messages, so I hadn’t actually seen them in four years.

  We didn’t get much time for reuniting because our parents decided it was time to finally show us our new responsibility. One that their parents, and their parents before them, passed down. Almost one hundred years of working towards a better future, was now riding on three teenagers.

  It was an intense feeling, being responsible for everything. That feeling has only grown in the last few years. It’s still an enormous obligation, one that I don’t really want, but have no choice in.

  Every chance that I get, I take the opportunity to get in the air. Being the only one of us with a pilots license means that I get that chance often.

  Pulling out of my thoughts once again, I notice that I am at a pretty good location for my unwilling passengers’ departure. I check that the planes auto pilot is good and I press the button to release the side hatch of the small plane. I can tell by the pressure that it is raising, I tether to the pole running across the ceiling of the plane and make my way to the body. One hard shove sends him flying out the side of the plane. After checking that his phone and gun have gone with him, I go back to my seat up front, shut the hatch, and try to just breath for the rest of the flight.

  I let the open skies soothe the anxiety that courses within me. I avoid thinking that soon, I will be forced underground. There will be no skies for years. Focus on now. For now, I have peace in the expansive blue sky.

  Chapter 2

  Tye

  “Damn it.” I sigh.

  “What’s up man?” West asks.

  “One of the guys got greedy and Gabe had to take care of it.”

  “Damn. I hate that. He good?”

  “As good as it gets with the situation I suppose. But you know Gabe, he’s probably all up in his head right now.”

  “No doubt about it. You need anything from me?”

  “Nah Picasso, we good. I’m gonna transfer this money real quick so we can be done with this shit show already. I set up the tag words so we can get the alerts when they discover what has happened. You need to get your lab ready for when Gabe gets home. I got a few

  things I need to figure out on this update before we are ready for install.”

  “Alright brother, I’m gonna head down to my floor then. Just buzz if you change your mind. I can’t wait for you to get the new security measures in place.”

  “Same. I am so ready to be done with this upgrade. The specs are getting really annoying. I am dreaming in freaking code.”

  West laughs at me as he makes his way out of my area. We each have our own set up down here. Originally the bunker was pretty small but over the years with expansions we each ended up with our own kind of floor in the west wing of the area. Our areas sit above the underground area even with the original bunker. The east wing comes off of the opposite side of the original bunker and houses our scientists, doctors, engineers, and such.

  The original bunker then has elevators that go down to the newer level. Hundreds of thousands of square feet make up the lower bunker. This is where the male section, female section, coupling section, children's secton, and labs are held.

  The man’s hold also is where the farming and other agricultural areas are located. They are responsible for maintaining the healthy crops and animals for food. The woman’s area is where any clothing or toiletries are made and provided for the rest of the population. Coupling is their own small little section and is solely for reproduction. People from each side of the bunker put in a request for this position and once checked over medically they are then paired up and spend several years together with their partner reproducing. The children are kept by the labs and the mothers are unaware of which child is biologically theirs. So the new moms help care for all of the new babies until a certain age where the children are then sent to their corresponding genders hold. It is a complicated process. I don’t quite agree with the logistics of it but bearing the weight of responsibility prevents me from speaking out about it.

  It isn’t my job to worry about who gets to couple with whom. My job is to make sure security is top notch. Every door has an access code and only a few people have access to different areas. No one is allowed outside of their intended location. On top of securing the bunker, I also run the computer programs maintaining the microchips each person has. They are chipped as newborns if they are born within the bunker, and chipped upon arrival if they are brought in. Th
is helps us track the location of each person making sure they are all where they need to be. Those chips have different coding to allow us to know who is male or female, who is a doctor or an enforcer, and who is a scientist or a worker. Each set of persons chips have codes that allow us to see who they are. The computer maps our their location and staring at all the colorful dots really make my eyes hurt. The chips are also important because the sensors in the doorways recognize the implants and will not let a person pass through if that person should not be there.

  Overall the process is a little creepy and a lot intrusive but it also is not my job to care about the persons feelings. I just make sure it all runs right. It helps that I am a little colder personality wise then my two friends. Although we were practically raised identically, the boys didn’t have sadistic parents like mine. While they were in bed sleeping at our ten o’clock bedtime, I was being forced to do workouts. This probably happened my whole life but the earliest memory I have was at five years old when I was so tired from the full day of routine, that all I wanted was to crawl into bed. My dad stood over me, while I did five sets of twenty push ups followed by five sets of twenty sit ups. He said we would start small. Even though I have always been an abnormally large person the exercise was a lot for my body. Every time I messed up a set he would make me restart from the beginning. The other adults would always comment on how much muscle I was forming and congratulate my parents on such good genetics. I don’t know how genetics came into play since my dad is a squirrelly looking man and my mom works so hard to stay the size of a bean pole, but I never said anything. I just forced myself to be better. Every night my parents came into my room at bed time and put me through exercises. Dad was right though, by the time I was nine, I was doing almost two hours worth of body work before I was allowed to sleep.

  When we had to move away, I thought things may get better since there would be no other parents around to brag on my dad about me. Logically it made total sense to me. No one to compliment your efforts no need to continue. Right? Wrong. On top of the nightly workouts, they also set up some more strenuous exercising routines during the day. So, after breakfast, workout, then study. After lunch, workout, then study. Along with the workouts came the beatings. I guess having no one to judge them for their tastes in discipline, meant they could now dole out punishments as they seen fit. At first, it was only dad hitting me. It only happened here and there when I would mess up a new sequence of exercise. I mentioned to my mom once that dad had hit me when I messed up. After backhanding me across the face and telling me to show her what I was supposed to do for dad, I never mentioned it again. They talk though so punishments got worse. Mess up an exercise, hit. Late to a meal, hit. Wrong answer during school time, hit. The worst beating came a few nights before we moved back to the old house. The discussion topic for the night was about polyandry. The boys and I had all agreed that a persons sexual orientation was their own to determine. I didn’t see the harm in liking boys, or girls liking girls, or multiple partners. I mean our parents all lived together and raised kids together so it was similar I thought. I was nine. It wasn’t like I fully understood everything we were discussing. I mean we were all too smart especially Gabryl. He was taking basic college courses at ten. Some things though, you just don’t fully understand until you mature though, and sexual orientation is one of those things. That didn’t matter to my parents. As soon as the chat closed, my dad grabbed me by my neck and through me to the floor. I thought after the beating he gave me I would wind up in the hospital. Then mom came at me after he was done. She physically hit me, but although her blows weren’t as hard as my dads, her verbal assault was brutal.

  The next few days, they didn’t hit me but the bruises from their abuse wasn’t fading as fast as they liked. Dad and mom only spoke to me one time on our flight back to Kansas, and it was solely to tell me that if I didn’t go along with their story about how I got the bruising, they would make me regret it. So upon arrival back in Kansas, the questions started immediately from my friends and their parents. Falling down the stairs, was a good excuse, I knew the other parents bought it hook, line, and sinker, but my boys were a little harder to convince. They knew my coordination was top notch so, I had to embellish a bit and tell them my dad used his strict tone and I jumped and lost my balance. They were always scared of my dads “strict” tone.

  I hoped being back home would stop the hits but, those hopes were crushed almost on a daily basis. Since we added a combat class to our schooling section of the routine, the bruises were filed away as a good class day. Then our parents showed us the bunker and explained the reason behind all of our training. It was eye opening. Finally I understood the reason behind all of the schedules and enhanced learning, but having all of this put on our shoulders. That was a hard pill to swallow.

  “Son,” my dads booming baritone pulled me from my trance. Had I been paying attention I would have heard him come in. I can’t wait until I get this system installed. It is truly going to piss him off when he can no longer enter my domain. I don’t give a shit though.

  “Yes sir?” I ask contritely.

  “You didn’t hear me come in did you?”

  “Sorry sir, I did not. I was focused on the codes. The boys want this install in by the end of the week.”

  “Uh huh. I’ll let you have that for now. I got more important things to discuss.”

  “What can I do sir?”

  “Your mother and I want access to all of the levels of the bunker. We are the founders. So when you are putting in all of your little codes, make sure we are not blocked out of anything yeah?”

  “Sir, it was voted on, I am not to give full access to anyone. There are channels each person must go through to gain entry where they should not need be.”

  I can tell he wants to hit me by the time I finish my statement, but he hasn’t been able to do that since I turned sixteen. All his hard work to hone my body into the machine he wanted, backfired on him. Last year, he took to beating me almost as bad as that time before we moved home. Without thinking I pulled back and punched him in the side of the head. When he woke up, he and my mother stormed off. He hasn’t touched me since.

  Right now, he really wants too. The fact that he is having to hold back brings me a bit of joy inside. I don’t let it show. I am not an idiot.

  “You will do as you are told.”

  “I am sir. I apologize but I really need to complete this level today.”

  He stares me down as he backs out of my space. I release a breath I didn’t’ know I was holding. Shit I need to get this program done today.

  Chapter 3

  West

  “Yes!” I jump up and actually punch my fist into the air. I remind myself of the old eighties movie and end up laughing at my own silliness.

  “Dude, you chill?” Gabryl chuckles at me from the door way. I see Tye beside him fighting his own grin.

  Laughing I say, “Yeah, come in, check this out!” The boys make their way to me. I know that they are beyond smart but I am going to have to explain what these numbers mean.

  “What the hell am I looking at Picasso?” Tye grumbles. He has thrown himself into the coding to get the new security in place. I know after all his hard work he doesn’t want to see all of these new sequences so I hurry to tell them.

  “The info that Gabe brought back from Synotech last week,” I wait for a nod of acknowledgement before continuing, “one of the programs they were working on is going to help us so much.”

  “Explain,” Gabryl states.

  “Okay, so they are idiots first of all. They had this program and specs drawn up to divide out the mutated chromosomes of embryos to make sure any genetic abnormalities were stopped early on. You know that is great and all or whatever, but...” I hesitate. They look at me and I know they are thinking about what would have happened to me if all genetic mutations were wiped out considering I have different colored eyes, and bright red hair.

  “Come on ass, tell us.”
Tye jumps in to squash the considerations.

  “But, like I said they are idiots. The specs in this would annihilate any cells with abnormalities causing the embryo to cease development. However, I took the program and adjusted the figuring, rewrote the coding, added some new ranges, and boom!” I finish by holding both hands at the computer screen. Tye squeezes his eyes shut and pinches his nose. Gabryl on the other hand looks as if he is fighting not to laugh. “Right, oh yeah. Boom!,” I repeat, causing Gabryl’s attempt to fail. His chortle busts out as I continue, “I can run our different vegetation's through this program and we will be able to differentiate the bad seeds, so to say, from the good plants, and be able to tell exactly which nutrients the plants are lacking so that growth is excelled for each. This will only take about a week at the start of each growing season, as the hatchling’s start to sprout. By removing the bad before any issues can spread, and adding the correct amount and kind of nutrient we can double our output of food, and half the growth time. So basically we can quadruple our food supply with this program.” I am almost out of breath as I finish my explanation.