The Gravity Myth

Chambers

The mood lighting in the axial chapel glinted off the glass cases housing what Evan knew could only be relics. A weathered copy of a Quran in one, a long set of three nails in the next. The judge rattled on as Evan passed the antiquities.

"First edition. I'm technically not supposed to own that... You know the Vatican thinks they have the originals, but it wouldn't be the first time they got sold a vial of snake oil."

Evan stopped and peered into a display with a set of furled parchments.

"Please don't breathe on the glass, you'll fog it up and moisture is a bitch on Dead Sea Scrolls." The judge wiped a gloved hand across the case, clearing it.

Evan marvelled at the massive library of tomes, ornate knives, and puzzle boxes. Behind the judge's chair sat a large crate, it's lid decorated with golden angels. The judge clapped his hands and spread his arms wide before plopping into his seat. "Eat your heart out, Doctor Jones!"

"Is now a good time to ask about the kangaroo thing?" Evan whispered to Bekoe, who shook his head.

Judge Logan peeled the white gloves from his hands. They were charred a sickening black, and ash flew from them as they cracked with his movements. He snapped, the ash falling away to reveal perfectly normal skin underneath.

"I know you don't understand everything that's going on here, Mr. Miller, but I'm sure you understand the gravity of the situation. Don't worry, you'll laugh about that later. Here's what you need to comprehend. This is not a dream, all of this is real. Myths, legends -- magic. They've all been twisted through the years, like the world's most bizarre game of Telephone, but there is always a nugget of truth at the heart of every story. Tell me, what do you know about Sir Isaac Newton?"

"He invented gravity!" Evan grimaced at how stupid he must have sounded. "Or like, invented the mathematical theory to prove it or something."

"Close enough. But do you remember how he 'discovered' it?"

"He was sitting under an apple tree--"

Judge Logan jumped from his chair. "Bingo! That's the story we're all told, right? A young Sir Isaac sitting under ye olde apple tree and he takes one to the bean, yeah? Jumps up and shouts, 'Eureka', then presumably goes all Beautiful Mind on one of those green chalkboards and -- voila! Gravity.

"But did you know that he basically had to come up with the entire field of calculus to achieve a workable theory? And not just that, but some very inspiring work on visible light, general motion, and generators. Probably felt the need to one up Leibniz because the German did the calculus thing better." The judge exhaled sharply and steepled his fingers in front of his mouth.

"Doesn't matter. The point is, most of us remember him for the apple, and while it may not have actually hit him on the head, he did mention the idea of watching an apple fall from a tree as the inspiration for his theories. And even though the formulation of thoughts was more than likely a byproduct of his everyday work in mathematics, by his own word, the apple story is now canon."

"Yeah," Evan murmured, still looking around at the wonders in the chapel. He wondered how much they would be worth to collectors.

The judge swooped into his direct line of sight. "I'm sorry, am I boring you?"

"No! I was listening, the apple is a lie, got it."

Judge Logan sighed, "Maybe. Who knows? Perhaps that apple did trigger some epiphany. It's certainly a folksy enough image and makes for good art. Paris, Prince of Troy and the apple of discord. Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. George Washington cutting down the cherry tree. Some of the best stories start with a fruit."

"So what's the truth then?" Evan asked.

The judge held out a hand, gesturing for Evan to take a smaller seat across from his before sitting himself. "Evan Miller, you have been found guilty of being perpetually useless and have been sentenced to death, in one way or the other. The mode is up to you. Either way, you will be used. To continue as a sacrifice -- or as one of the Shunned."

Bekoe placed a hand on Evan's shoulder. "Should you choose to become a Star-Shunner, you will be granted life for as long as you are willing to serve."

"You do understand what that entails?" The judge asked.

"To gather up people like me, to be sacrifices, right? To -- to kill others. Or at least leave them to their deaths."

Judge Logan nodded. "You have to understand, Evan, it's like I was saying. Magic is real. Gods are real. The world as you know it runs on sacrifice, bloody sacrifice. It always has."

Water welled up in the corners of Evan's eyes. "I'm not a murderer."

Bekoe knelt in front of him. "You do not have to be. It is just as noble to choose the pits."

The tears finally began to fall. "I can't go back, I can't! I'm so hungry I'm afraid I'll go mad from it."

The judge struck a somber tone, "If you choose the Shunned, you will be cared for. What we do may not be moral, but it is righteous. There is a difference. We do this so that others can keep on living in innocence, without the cursed knowledge of truth. It is our own sacrifice to bear this burden."

Evan blinked back his tears, "But I will get to know the truth?"

The judge sat forward, "In a way. Not even the Star-Shunners know the full truth until they take the walk to the center. Until then, it has to be taken on faith, like any good story. Some still choose the pits at the end, perhaps it's because their faith is just that strong. Others maybe don't want to risk the chance of finding out it was all lies."

"So I just have to believe until I can see for myself?"

"For at least ten years, at one sacrifice a week. That's the deal." The judge stuck his hand out to Evan, who slowly shook it. He heard a series of crackles from the motion, and a light puff of ash filled the space between them. The handshake was beyond feverishly warm.

The prosecutor had been standing silently at the back of the chapel. The one who had been called Huey Priest moved to the center of the room and cleared his throat. "Now that you are one of us, it is time you know the truth from the beginning. Or at least my truth, from my beginning."

The judge pulled his gloves back on and smiled. "Welcome to the exposition bits, Mr. Miller."