What if I were to tell you that every day of your life you have lived a lie? If your every memory, experience, and interaction with the world around you was tainted by the fallacy, would you strive to learn the truth? Do you possess the inner fortitude to break the shackles that have imprisoned your mind? We can give you that power. We can show you the truth. Each day, we bask in the glory that was intended for all humanity. From Hyperion, the last free city, we endeavor to preserve the way of life of our common ancestors so that one day, those of you who have been lost might reawaken. Defying Gravity is the first installment in the journey of a young man from among you who chose to learn of the truth. The account details the triumphs and defeats necessary to cast off the bonds that had held him for sixteen years of life on Earth. Though some were resistant and all were uncertain, none could have predicted how his coming would forever change the course of humanity's collective destiny. We invite you to share in his journey. If you lack the courage to challenge the assumptions of your reality, perhaps walking the footsteps of one who has come before you will inspire. As you will invariably come to learn in The Hyperion Chronicles, even the slightest shift in your perspective is a monumental victory for our cause.

Auszug. � Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Defying Gravity

THE HYPERION CHRONICLESBy J.J. Fox

AuthorHouse

Copyright � 2011 J.J. Fox
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4634-3814-2

Chapter One

For ten, long years Benjamin Meaks had stared out these same windows, imprisoned within the prestigious walls of Oakwoods Preparatory Academy. Though he gazed out into the free air of the springtime Vermont skies seeking solace, he received only further reminder of the condemnation, the life sentence he was bound to serve within the confines of his own reflection. For sixteen years the despondent visage, ever struggling to control the dark, unruly head of hair, had been his silent tormentor. The bone structure of his cheeks and chin apparently lacked the menace that would have garnered the respect of his fellow inmates. Yet, above all else, it was the eyes, the cursed green orbs that followed his every move and mocked him endlessly that he hated most. Outside these hallowed halls of intellectual advancement, some might find Ben's combination of dark hair and light eyes appealing. However, within the culture of conformity his "peers" rigorously adhered to, his failure to match dark hair with brown eyes gave just one more stone to heap upon his tomb of isolation.

"Benjamin!"

Professor Marble's voice snapped him back to attention. Professor Marble was chief amongst his jailers this year. The stern dispenser of Physics knowledge viewed Ben with a disdain so pure, it could only be viewed as if Ben's very existence offended him. It was the same misunderstanding that led all of his professors to similar levels of contempt for him. The cruel hand of fate had seen fit to reward the only son of Doctors David and Patricia Meaks, world renowned for their contributions to the scientific community, with neither the aptitude nor appetite to excel in their fields of expertise. Despite his best intentions, Ben's lack of performance was always interpreted as willful disrespect. So it had been in his elementary days and so would it be until he was finally through with Oakwoods.

"Perhaps, Mr. Meaks, you would be kind enough as to tell me why objects that are thrown into the air return to Earth at an acceleration rate of nine-point-eight meters per second squared?"

Ben's pallid cheeks flushed briefly molten as he sat quietly in his chair. The other fifteen members of the class fixated upon him, grinning ravenously like a pack of wolves on cornered prey. The answer seemed so simple and yet, Ben had been down this road countless times. The same melodrama unfolded on a weekly basis. Ben would offer a logical, seemingly correct explanation to the question posed, only to find himself mired in a deeper level of Marble's ire.

"Well, Mr. Meaks, we are all waiting."

The show must go on. Better, he thought, to give them what they want rather than allow them the satisfaction of a suspenseful climax.

"I suppose the objects fall to Earth because they cannot fly, Sir."

The class broke out into raucous laughter, delighted not by his response but by the prospect of his impending consequences.

"Silence!"

Professor Marble's face was scarlet with rage.

"Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?"

Ben sincerely wished he had been kidding; nearly as much as he wished his desire to have furnished the correct answer made any real difference to the quality of his academic life. Out of habit now, he braced himself for his instructor's venom.

"That is the last straw, Meaks! I have been lecturing this entire class period about the force of gravity and you have once again seen fit to make me regret that effort. I will be writing to your parents about your utter lack of respect. You will remain here until I have finished. The rest of you read chapter six for tomorrow. You are dismissed!"

Ben sank deeper into his seat as the rest of the class filed out of the room, many of them still laughing or pointing at him. When they had finally gone, having satiated themselves upon his bleeding pride, he gathered his books and approached Professor Marble's solid oak desk. He stood there silently as the elderly Professor scribbled furiously on a sheet of paper, muttering darkly as he wrote. This was the part of the ritual Ben found to be most tedious. At this point there could not possibly be anything his parents had not heard dozens of times already. Why bother waste everyone's time with another lengthy diatribe?

After several minutes the charade came to a merciful end. Professor Marble stood up quickly and shoved a sealed envelope bearing the Oakwoods crest into his outstretched hand.

"You will return this letter signed by your father tomorrow, Mr. Meaks, or you will face suspension."

With a flourish of brown suit coat and maroon necktie Professor Marble turned his attention toward erasing the whiteboard. Ben slunk dejectedly out of the room.

In the hall students were still milling about, depositing books in lockers, or chatting with friends. Several freshmen girls from Marble's class snickered as they passed. It was embarrassing enough to be a full year behind that being at the bottom of his remedial class seemed an unnecessary insult. He ignored them, as always, and made his way to the end of the hall and front exit of Oakwoods Prep. Ben paused on the threshold of the exit and looked out of the imposing, brass framed, glass doors. Rain was pouring down harder than it had all day. He fumbled around in his backpack searching for his umbrella. It was still in his locker on the school's third floor. Of course on a day like this. Pushing off from the door in frustration, he turned back toward the main stairs when he heard the all too familiar voice of Scott Ricter. Sure enough, blocking his way up the stairs were Scott Ricter and his cronies. They were a walking, breathing clich�. Were they not a constant in his recurring daily nightmare, Ben would have chuckled to himself as though watching a scripted teen drama where the jocks arrive to bully the hapless intellectual all the while revealing themselves to be shallow troglodytes. In this reality, their fists and malice were not a clever piece of acting and the expression of both seemed to require Ben.

"Did someone forget their umbrella, Meaks?"

Scott Ricter grinned at him cruelly amid the chuckles of his friends.

"Why don't you just fly up and get it then?"

Ben's cheeks flushed again with embarrassment. How did Scott Ricter already know about Physics class? He was in no mood for trying to get past the bullies today so he simply turned around and went out into the rain as their harsh laughter filled the hall.

Ben did not run quickly toward the bus stop. He walked slowly, allowing the rain to utterly soak him. The heavy drops masked the few, hot, renegade tears that managed to escape the typically stoic prison of his eyes. As he sat down heavily upon the saturated wooden bench to wait for the bus, Ben wiped away the last tears with shamed disgust. I am too old to be crying. That's just what they want anyway. When subjected to daily doses of any environmental stimulus, human beings show a remarkable capacity for adaptation. Yet here, cold and alone, Ben was once again reminded that the bite of cruelty never seemed to lose its potency despite his constant interaction with it.

His parents worked at Wellington, the most prestigious University in the state of Vermont. Naturally, they were still teaching when Ben got out of school so he took the bus home alone every day. Thinking of his parents reminded him of the two letters he had in his pack. He had also received a letter of admonition from Mrs. Nickel, his Geometry...

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