If a car is travelling at a steady speed, what can be said of the driving and resistive forces acting on the car?

Resistive forces are twice as large as the driving forces

There are no resistive forces acting on the car at a steady speed

Driving forces are twice as large as the resistive forces

Which of the following statements is true?

The greater the speed of a vehicle, the greater the braking force needed to stop it within a certain distance

The greater the mass of a vehicle, the less braking force is needed to stop it within a certain distance

The greater the speed of a vehicle, the less braking force is needed to stop it within a certain distance

The smaller the speed of a vehicle, the greater the braking force needed to stop it within a certain distance

What is braking distance?

The distance travelled under braking

The distance travelled in 10 seconds when a car is accelerating

The distance required to accelerate to 100mph

The energy required to stop in a given distance

What is stopping distance?

Braking distance and reaction distance

Which statement is true?

When the brakes are applied, work done by friction between the brake and wheel reduces the kinetic energy of the vehicle and increases the temperature of the brakes

When the brakes are applied, work done by friction between the brake and wheel increases the kinetic energy of the vehicle and decreases the temperature of the brakes

When the brakes are applied, work done by friction between the brake and wheel reduces the kinetic energy of the vehicle and decreases the temperature of the brakes

When the brakes are released, work done by friction between the brake and wheel reduces the kinetic energy of the vehicle and increases the temperature of the brakes

Forces - Forces and Braking

Weathering describes the breaking down or dissolving of rocks and minerals on the surface of the Earth. Water, ice, acids, salts, plants, animals, and changes in temperature are all agents of weathering. Once a rock has been broken down, a process called erosion transports the bits of rock and mineral away. No rock on Earth is hard enough to resist the forces of weathering and erosion. Together, these processes carved landmarks such as the Grand Canyon, in the U.S. state of Arizona. This massive canyon is 446 kilometers (277 miles) long, as much as 29 kilometers (18 miles) wide, and 1,600 meters (1 mile) deep. Weathering and erosion constantly change the rocky landscape of Earth. Weathering wears away exposed surfaces over time. The length of exposure often contributes to how vulnerable a rock is to weathering. Rocks, such as lavas, that are quickly buried beneath other rocks are less vulnerable to weathering and erosion than rocks that are exposed to agents such as wind and water, As it smoothes rough, sharp rock surfaces, weathering is often the first step in the production of soils. Tiny bits of weathered minerals mix with plants, animal remains, fungi, bacteria, and other organisms. A single type of weathered rock often produces infertile soil, while weathered materials from a collection of rocks is richer in mineral diversity and contributes to more fertile soil. Soils types associated with a mixture of weathered rock include glacial till, loess, and alluvial sediments. Weathering is often divided into the processes of mechanical weathering and chemical weathering. Biological weathering, in which

Weathering describes the breaking down or dissolving of rocks and minerals on the surface of the Earth. Water, ice, acids, salts, plants, animals, and changes in temperature are all agents of weathering. Once a rock has been broken down, a process called erosion transports the bits of rock and mineral away. No rock on Earth is hard enough to resist the forces of weathering and erosion. Together, these processes carved landmarks such as the Grand Canyon, in the U.S. state of Arizona. This massive canyon is 446 kilometers (277 miles) long, as much as 29 kilometers (18 miles) wide, and 1,600 meters (1 mile) deep. Weathering and erosion constantly change the rocky landscape of Earth. Weathering wears away exposed surfaces over time. The length of exposure often contributes to how vulnerable a rock is to weathering. Rocks, such as lavas, that are quickly buried beneath other rocks are less vulnerable to weathering and erosion than rocks that are exposed to agents such as wind and water, As it smoothes rough, sharp rock surfaces, weathering is often the first step in the production of soils. Tiny bits of weathered minerals mix with plants, animal remains, fungi, bacteria, and other organisms. A single type of weathered rock often produces infertile soil, while weathered materials from a collection of rocks is richer in mineral diversity and contributes to more fertile soil. Soils types associated with a mixture of weathered rock include glacial till, loess, and alluvial sediments. Weathering is often divided into the processes of mechanical weathering and chemical weathering. Biological weathering, in whichliving or once-living organisms contribute to weathering, can be a part of both processes. Mechanical Weathering Mechanical weathering, also called physical weathering and disaggregation, causes rocks to crumble. Water, in either liquid or solid form, is often a key agent of mechanical weathering. For instance, liquid water can seep into cracks and crevices in rock. If temperatures drop low enough, the water will freeze. When water freezes, it expands. The ice then works as a wedge. It slowly widens the cracks and splits the rock. When ice melts, liquid water performs the act of erosion by carrying away the tiny rock fragments lost in the split. This specific process (the freeze-thaw cycle) is called frost weathering or cryofracturing. Figure 4.3 Frost Wedging Temperature changes can also contribute to mechanical weathering in a process called thermal stress. Changes in temperature cause rock to expand (with heat) and contract (with cold). As this happens over and over again. the structure of the rock weakens. Over time, it crumbles. Rocky desert landscapes are particularly vulnerable to thermal stress. The outer layer of desert rocks undergo repeated stress as the temperature changes from day Eventually, Lo outer night. layersflake off in thin sheets, a process called exfoliation. Exfoliation contributes to the formation of bornhardts, one of the most dramatic features in landscapes formed by weathering and erosion. Bornhardts are tall, domed, isolated rocks often found areas. in tropical Sugarloaf Mountain, an iconic landmark in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, is bornhardt. a Salt also works to weather rock in a process called haloclasty. Saltwater sometimes gets into the cracks and pores of rock. If the saltwater evaporates, salt crystals are left behind. As the crystals grow, they put pressure on the rock, slowly breaking it apart. Plants and animals can be agents of mechanical weathering. The seed of a tree may sprout in soil that has collected in a cracked rock. As the roots grow, they widen the cracks, eventually breaking the rock into pieces. Over time, trees can break apart even large rocks. Even small plants, such as mosses, can enlarge tiny cracks as they grow. Animals that tunnel underground, such as moles and prairie dogs, also work to break apart rock and soil. Other animals dig and trample rock aboveground, causing rock to slowly crumble. Chemical Weathering Chemical weathering changes the molecular structure of rocks and soil.For instance, carbon dioxide from the air or soil sometimes combines with water in a process called carbonation. This produces a weak acid, called carbonic acid, that can dissolve rock. Carbonic acid is especially effective at dissolving limestone. When carbonic acid seeps through limestone underground, it can open up huge cracks or hollow out vast networks of caves. Carlsbad Caverns National Park, in the U.S. state of New Mexico, includes more than 119 limestone caves created by weathering and erosion. The largest is called the Big Room.. With an area of about 33,210 square meters (357,469 square feet), the Big Room is the size of six football fields. Another type of chemical weathering works on rocks that contain iron. These rocks turn to rust in a process called oxidation. Rust is a compound created by the interaction of oxygen and iron in the presence of water. As rust expands, it weakens rock and helps break it apart. Another familiar form of chemical weathering is hydrolysis. In the process of hydrolysis, a new solution (a mixture of two or more substances) is formed as chemicals in rock interact with water. In many rocks, for example, sodium minerals interact with water to form a saltwater solution. Hydration and hydrolysis contribute to flared slopes, another dramatic example of a landscape formed by weathering and erosion. Flared slopes are sometimes nicknamed "wave rocks." Their c-shape is largely concave rock formations a result of subsurface weathering, in which hydration and hydrolysis wear away rocks beneath the landscape's surfaceWeathering and People Weathering is a natural process, but human activities can speed it up. For example, certain kinds of air pollution increase the rate of weathering Burning coal, natural and petroleum releases chemicals such as nitrogen oxide and gas, sulfur dioxide into the atmosphere. When these chemicals combine with sunlight and moisture, they change into acids. They then fall back to Earth as acid rain. Acid rain rapidly weathers limestone, marble, and other kinds of stone. The effects of acid rain can often be seen on gravestones, making names and other inscriptions impossible to read. Acid rain has also damaged many historic buildings and monuments. For example, at 71 meters (233 feet) tall, the Leshan Giant Buddha at Mount Emei, China is the world's largest statue of the Buddha. It was carved 1,300 years ago and sat unharmed for centuries. An innovative drainage system mitigates the natural process of erosion But in recent years, acid rain has turned the statue's nose black and made some of its hair crumble and fall.

Cohesion and Adhesion Water molecules stick to each other as a result of hydrogen bond- ing. An attractive force that holds molecules of a single substance together is known as cohesion. Cohesion due to hydrogen bonding between water molecules contributes to the upward movement of water from plant roots to their leaves. Related to cohesion is the surface tension of water. The cohe- sive forces in water resulting from hydrogen bonds cause the mol- ecules at the surface of water to be pulled downward into the liquid. As a result, water acts as if it has a thin “skin” on its sur- face. You can observe water’s surface tension by slightly overfill- ing a drinking glass with water. The water will appear to bulge above the rim of the glass. Surface tension also enables small crea- tures such as spiders and water-striders to run on water without breaking the surface. Adhesion is the attractive force between two particles of differ- ent substances, such as water molecules and glass molecules. A related property is capillarity (KAP-uh-LER-i-tee), which is the attrac- tion between molecules that results in the rise of the surface of a liquid when in contact with a solid. Together, the forces of adhe- sion, cohesion, and capillarity help water rise through narrow tubes against the force of gravity. Figure 2-11 shows cohesion and adhesion in the water-conducting tubes in the stem of a flower. Temperature Moderation Water has a high heat capacity, which means that water can absorb or release relatively large amounts of energy in the form of heat with only a slight change in temperature. This property of water is related to hydrogen bonding. Energy must be absorbed to break hydrogen bonds, and energy is released as heat when hydrogen bonds form. The energy that water initially absorbs breaks hydro- gen bonds between molecules. Only after these hydrogen bonds are broken does the energy begin to increase the motion of the water molecules, which raises the temperature of the water. When the temperature of water drops, hydrogen bonds reform, which releases a large amount of energy in the form of heat. Therefore, during a hot summer day, water can absorb a large quantity of energy from the sun and can cool the air without a large increase in the water’s temperature. At night, the gradually cooling water warms the air. In this way, the Earth’s oceans stabilize global temperatures enough to allow life to exist. Water’s high heat capac- ity also allows organisms to keep cells at an even temperature despite temperature changes in the environment. As a liquid evaporates, the surface of the liquid that remains behind cools down. A relatively large amount of energy is absorbed by water during evaporation, which significantly cools the surface of the remaining liquid. Evaporative cooling prevents organisms that live on land from overheating. For example, the evaporation of sweat from a person’s skin releases body heat and prevents over- heating on a hot day or during strenuous activity. Adhesion Cohesion Hydrogen bonds Cohesion, adhesion, and capillarity contribute to the upward movement of water from the roots of plants. FIGURE 2–11 www.scilinks.org Topic: Hydrogen Bonding Keyword: HM60777 mb06se_cols03.qxd 5/18/07 10:47 AM Page 41 42 CHAPTER 2 Density of Ice Unlike most solids, which are denser than their liquids, solid water is less dense than liquid water. This property is due to the shape of the water molecule and hydrogen bonding. The angle between the hydrogen atoms is quite wide. So, when water forms solid ice, the angles in the molecules cause ice crystals to have large amounts of open space, as shown in Figure 2-12. This open space lattice structure causes ice to have a low density. Because ice floats on water, bodies of water such as ponds and lakes freeze from the top down and not the bottom up. Ice insulates the water below from the cold air, which allows fish and other aquatic crea- tures to survive under the icy surface.

Lesson 1: Continental Drift Theory and the Evidences that support the Theory Continental drift describes one of the earliest ways geologists thought continents moved over time. Today, the theory of continental drift has been replaced by the science of plate tectonics. The theory of continental drift is most associated with the scientist Alfred Wegener. In the early 20th century, Wegener published a paper explaining his theory that the continental landmasses were “drifting” across the Earth, sometimes plowing through oceans and into each other. He called this movement continental drift. Pangaea Wegener was convinced that all of Earth’s continents were once part of an enormous, single landmass called Pangaea. Wegener, trained as an astronomer, used biology, botany, and geology describe Pangaea and continental drift. For example, fossils of the ancient reptile mesosaurus are only found in southern Africa and South America. Mesosaurus, a freshwater reptile only one meter (3.3 feet) long, could not have swum the Atlantic Ocean. The presence of mesosaurus suggests a single habitat with many lakes and rivers. Wegener also studied plant fossils from the frigid Arctic Archipelago of Svalbard, Norway. These plants were not the hardy specimens adapted to survive in the Arctic climate. These fossils were of tropical plants, which are adapted to a much warmer, more humid environment. The presence of these fossils suggests Svalbard once had a tropical climate. Finally, Wegener studied the stratigraphy of different rocks and mountain ranges. The east coast of South America and the west coast of Africa seem to fit together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and Wegener discovered their rock layers “fit” just as clearly. South America and Africa were not the only continents with similar geology. Wegener discovered that the Appalachian Mountains of the eastern United States, for instance, were geologically related to the Caledonian Mountains of Scotland. Pangaea existed about 240 million years ago. By about 200 million years ago, this supercontinent began breaking up. Over millions of years, Pangaea separated into pieces that moved away from one another. These pieces slowly assumed their positions as the continent we recognize today. Today, scientists think that several supercontinents like Pangaea have formed and broken up over the course of the Earth’s lifespan. These include Pannotia, which formed about 600 million years ago, and Rodinia, which existed more than a billion years ago. Tectonic Activity Scientists did not accept Wegener’s theory of continental drift. One of the elements lacking in the theory was the mechanism for how it works—why did the continents drift and what patterns did they follow? Wegener suggested that perhaps the rotation of the Earth caused the continents to shift towards and apart from each other. (It doesn't.) Today, we know that the continents rest on massive slabs of rock called tectonic plates. The plates are always moving and interacting in a process called plate tectonics. The continents are still moving today. Some of the most dynamic sites of tectonic activity are seafloor spreading zones and giant rift valleys. In the process of seafloor spreading, molten rock rises from within the Earth and adds new seafloor (oceanic crust) to the edges of the old. Seafloor spreading is most dynamic along giant underwater mountain ranges known as mid-ocean ridges. As the seafloor grows wider, the continents on opposite sides of the ridge move away from each other. The North American and Eurasian tectonic plates, for example, are separated by the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. The two continents are moving away from each other at the rate of about 2.5 centimeters (1 inch) per year. Rift valleys are sites where a continental landmass is ripping itself apart. Africa, for example, will eventually split along the Great Rift Valley system. What is now a single continent will emerge as two—one on the African plate and the other on the smaller Somali plate. The new Somali continent will be mostly oceanic, with the Horn of Africa and Madagascar its largest landmasses. The processes of seafloor spreading, rift valley formation, and subduction (where heavier tectonic plates sink beneath lighter ones) were not well-established until the 1960s. These processes were the main geologic forces behind what Wegener recognized as continental drift.

La Isla de Pascua This 64-square mile island off Chile’s west coast goes by many names. Its English name is Easter Island, marking the day in 1722 when it was discovered by a European. In Spanish, it is called Isla de Pascua. The Rapa Nui, its first inhabitants, called it “The Navel of the World.” Experts do not agree on the history of Easter Island. It is unclear where the first people came from or when they arrived. Many people believe they came from neighboring Polynesia around AD 300. This culture built 900 enormous stone statues for which the island is famous. The statues are known as moai. Most of the moai are made of volcanic tuff. Tuff is a soft rock made from the ash that is forced out during a volcanic eruption. It is easier to carve than hard stones like marble, but it is not ideal for carving small details. The moai are considered megaliths (large stones that form prehistoric monuments). They stand up to 33 feet high when on their ceremonial platform (the average height is about 13 feet), and they weigh up to 82 tons. They usually have a trunk (body), inset arms, and an exaggerated head with angular edges. The head of each moai takes up about one-third of the total figure. It all shows that the people who created them could engineer monumental structures. Many moai stand with their backs to the sea. They watch the island like protective markers. Some low-relief carvings of religious deities were added to the backs of the moai at a later date. Experts are still trying to understand how they were carved and moved, and what they might mean. Chile took control of the island in 1888. At that time, its population was less than 200. The government used it for grazing livestock. Today, the mystery of Easter Island makes it a popular tourist spot. Valparaíso Valparaíso is a colorful blend of old and new traditions in Chile. This port city is an interesting example of daily life in Chile. Before the Panama Canal was opened in 1914, all ships traveling east to west had to pass all the way around South America. Valparaíso was ideally positioned as a stopping point in the Southern Pacific. Valparaíso has a long history of playing host to a large array of cultures and ideas. The city was known around the world as a place that embraced learning and new ideas. Pablo Neruda had a home in Valparaíso in the 1920s. After the Panama Canal was completed, shipping traffic declined significantly. Valparaíso was forgotten and fell upon hard times. In the 1990s, the government of Chile made an effort to revitalize the colorful port. Today it is a UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) World Heritage site. True to its history of embracing learning, it is also home to four universities. Tourists can visit the first stock exchange in Latin America. Valparaíso also has Chile’s first public library. Visitors stroll through cobblestone streets in the historic district. Here they can also view the city’s iconic colorful buildings. At night, music and street performers liven the experience. Try It Yourself Two Spanish words comprise the name of this city. Val means valley. Paraiso means paradise. The name Valparaíso means Paradise Valley. Can you recognize descriptive Spanish words in other Spanish place names? Start with names of places around you. Las Comidas Tradicionales To Chileans, nothing says home like pastel de choclo, a type of casserole made of beef and corn. The body of the casserole is flavorful. It contains beef, onions, raisins, and roasted chicken. It is topped off with a layer of creamed corn and then baked. Baking it brings out the sweetness in the corn, adding a contrast to the savory meat. The preferred type of corn is called choclo. This variety is grown in rugged conditions in the Andes. The kernels are large and hearty compared to other varieties. Another favorite dish in Chile is a type of meat stew called cazuela. Originally a native dish, it is now known as comfort food in Chile. Pork, beef, lamb, or chicken still on the bone is boiled in a traditional clay pot. To that, corn, potatoes, and other local vegetables are added. It is seasoned with onion and garlic. Pablo Rogat/Shutterstock When Chileans think about dessert, manjar is the first ingredient on their minds. It is a caramel sauce made from cooking milk, sugar, and vanilla. It is found in many desserts. It is used as filling in cakes, pies, and cookies. It is refrigerated to make puddings and custards. People even use it to sweeten their coffee.

The Story of Ramayana by Maharshi Valmiki Long ago, Dasharatha, the wise king of Ayodhya of Sarayu, India had three wives. Though the King had three wives, he didn’t have any children with them. The Chief priest Vasishta advised the king to make fire sacrifice to obtain a blessing from the gods. After the gods were pleased, one of them appeared out of the flame and handed him a pot full of nectar. The god told the king to share the nectar with his three queens namely Kausalya, Kaikeye, and Sumitra. While the nectar had been shared, the three queens gave birth to sons: Kausalya had Rama; Kaikeye had Bharatha; and Sumitra had twins Lakshmana and Shatrughna. A sage took the boys out to train them in archery. In a neighboring city, the ruler's daughter was named Sita. When it was time for Sita to choose her bridegroom, at a ceremony called a Swayamvara, the princes were asked to string a giant bow. No one else could even lift the bow, but as Rama bent it, he did not only string it but also broke it into two. Sita indicated that she chose Rama as her husband by putting a garland around his neck. The disappointed suitors were watching. 6 CO_Q3_English8_Module 4 King Dasharatha, Rama's father, decided it was time to give his throne to his eldest son Rama and retired to the forest to seek moksha. Everyone seems pleased. This plan fulfilled the rules of dharma because an eldest son should rule and, if a son can take over one's responsibilities, one's last years may be spent in a search for moksha. In addition, everyone loved Rama. However, Rama's stepmother, the king's second wife, was not pleased. She wanted her son, Bharata, to rule. Because of an oath Dasharatha had made to her years before, she got the king to agree to banish Rama for fourteen years and to crown Bharata even though the king, on bended knee, begged her not to demand such things. Broken-hearted, the devastated king could not face Rama with the news that Kaikeyi must tell him. Rama, always obedient, was as content to go into banishment in the forest as to be crowned king. Sita convinced Rama that she would always be at his side and his brother Lakshmana also begged to accompany them. Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana set out to the forest. Bharata, whose mother's evil plot had won him the throne, was very upset when he found out what had happened. Not for a moment he did consider breaking the rules of dharma and becoming king in Rama's place. He went to Rama's forest retreat and begged Rama to return and rule, but Rama refused. "We must obey father," Rama says. Bharata then took Rama's sandals saying, "I will put these on the throne, and every day I shall place the fruits of my work at the feet of my Lord." Embracing Rama, he took the sandals and returned to Ayodhya. Years passed and Rama, Sita, and Lakshmana were very happy in the forest. Rama and Lakshmana destroyed the rakshasas (evil creatures) who disturbed the sages in their meditations. One day a rakshasa princess named Shurpanakha tried to seduce Rama, and Lakshmana wounded her and drove her away. She returned to her brother Ravana, the ten-headed ruler of Lanka (Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon), and told her brother, who is always attracted to beautiful women, about lovely Sita. Ravana devised a plan to abduct Sita. He sent a magical golden deer which Sita desired Rama to hunt. A long time had passed, but Rama didn’t return. Thus, Lakshmana went off to find his brother. Before leaving Sita, Lakshmana drew a protective circle around Sita and warned her that she would be safe if she would stay within the circle. As they went off, Ravana, who could change his shape, appeared as a holy man begging alms. The moment Sita stepped outside the circle to give him food, Ravana grabbed her and carried her off to his kingdom in Lanka. Rama was broken-hearted when he returned to the empty hut and could not find Sita. A band of monkeys led by Hanuman offered to help him find Sita. Ravana carried Sita to his palace in Lanka, but he could not force her to be his wife. So, he put her in a grove and alternately sweet-talked her and threatened her in an attempt to get her to agree to marry him. Sita would not even look at him but thought only of her beloved Rama. Hanuman, the general of the monkey band could fly since his father was the wind, and he flew to Lanka and found Sita in the grove, comforted her, and told her Rama would come soon and save her. 7 CO_Q3_English8_Module 4 Ravana's men captured Hanuman, and Ravana ordered them to wrap Hanuman's tail in cloth and to set it on fire. With his tail burning, Hanuman hopped from house-top to house-top, setting Lanka a fire. He then flew back to Rama to tell him where Sita was. Rama, Lakshmana, and the monkey army built a causeway from the tip of India crossing over to Lanka. A mighty battle took place. Rama killed several of Ravana's brothers and then Rama confronted ten-headed Ravana. Rama finally killed Ravana and freed Sita. After Sita gained her freedom from Ravana, she proved her purity through the trial by fire. Then, they returned to Ayodhya and Rama became the king. As Rama became the king, he ruled Ayodhya with Ramrajya - an ideal time when everyone does his or her duties and responsibilities

“On this night, we share a roof protecting us from fleets of inequity. Our unification promises a better tomorrow. Those larger than myself, sitting on their marble thrones, sipping blood from cups composed of human skin and singing songs of so-called virtue, grow weaker each moment. Their caravans are revolting. There is hope yet. There is progress! Though tonight may mark a countdown, it is still a celebration. Look at all we have done, not just for Trials but for Palatium Infra as a whole. In four years, when I’m no longer Sovereignty, the Spoiled Purity and his people will continue to strive. So drink! Smoke! Crush up those exotic plants and snort them! We will not falter, weaken, or wane. Our influence is expanding, and somebody new opens their eyes every day. Even the Silbys of Aculeus have reached alarming potentials despite their embittered minds. So long as you relish in tonight, dance, and pray to your “dead” Gods, our revolution shall rise beyond the bounds of class, and when I’m only a commoner, we shall rise again beyond our brainwashed adversaries! Cheers, my people. Cheers!” Followers raised their cups. Some clinked theirs together. Others stood still and screamed breathlessly in agreement. I smiled with courtesy, then stepped off my platform. My voice still rang across the cellar. Speeches before were grander. Those displays were supposed to be emptying, and yet this one left me bloated, swollen tight. I watched as they popped the corks of their bottles and chanted in the name of Purity. Maybe the quality of my words wasn’t what mattered to them anyway, so long as I screamed loud enough. There’s no merit in attacking your people, a voice corrected me. “That’s right,” I said aloud. “Knox, my-my Sovereign!” squealed a nearby devotee, jittering as he stuffed his face with catered pastries. He was one I’d never seen before or had failed to remember. “Look what I’ve found! It’s wine, and not the shoddy Infran kind, either. Earth-made with good fruit! I don’t know how anyone managed to get their hands on this. Maybe some space travel mischief.” He giggled and held up a small glass bottle. “How neat.” “I want you to have it, Sir.” I nodded my head. “Yes, of course. Thank you.” Backing off into the midst of rowdy disciples, I clutched the bottle. What a waste of grapes. It could have been jam instead. Earthly food had a superior taste, ripe with delicate intricacies and nostalgia, but Palatium Infra had mastered the art of alcohol. Why waste your time with a drunkenness so sad and sickening? The booze of trash. Not many more followers approached me. The barren peroration must have upset them. My hands itched to submerge into my suit pockets, and my legs stood suddenly numb, wobbling. Four more years until I’m nothing. But tonight, you are nothing. “Shut up,” I told myself. Tightly packed together in the corner of the dwelling sat the Sibyls. A mound of writhing fabric and tones of skin made up their unified silhouette. I snapped the strap of the nearest gown, balancing on my hands and knees, waving the bottle before them. In their almost rodent nature, narrow noses prodded my way. Their dresses wrinkled and fell to their ankles. Knees dropped, and eyes widened. Many grumbled at me like hungry she-beasts. Those newer ones with faded curtains for hair, sunken eyes, and dirtied nails looked, hid their face, then sobbed. I imagined them in a pack together, fighting wildly against the Spoiled Purity in their rat decorum–biting down with square teeth laced with rabies. “I’ve got you all something,” I said. “Go back off to your pedestal and yap some more. We don’t want it.” A woman rose from the pile and spat. “You don’t even know what it is yet. It's Earth hooch, or more likely a near-flawless replica. I figured you girls would also like a chance to enjoy yourselves tonight.” “Your playmates have been harassing us since the moment you hung the banners and opened the cellar door.” The youngest, with a striking cyan mop upon her head, uncoiled from the mass. What was she now? 20, 21? We celebrated a birthday recently, I thought as she spun around me. “I remember something about a promise. Multiple promises, actually. Are you trying to bribe us into just shutting up and taking it? Because if another sticky, 40-year-old, Earth-born virgin gropes my shoulder, I’m going to have an aneurysm!” the girl continued. “Why not an Infran follower? Do you like it when they touch you?” I returned her accusing tone. “I’m sorry, sweet prophets, that you feel I’ve neglected my duties. I’ll keep a better eye out. Remember, you can always just holler if somebody is bothering you. And Anwen, friend, if I’ve ever tried to bribe you with anything, it was certainly the hair dye. I mean, look at you! Such handsomeness!” I exclaimed. The other Siblys began to encircle her, uttering compliments or even announcements of their envy. Anwen disappeared in a wink with flushed cheeks back into the mound. “I’ll just leave this here.” Smiling, I set down the bottle. ** “141, 143. . .” I counted each step as I trekked the staircase. There was no doubt I lost track somewhere. The ledges kept spawning under my feet, infinitely multiplying until I wasn’t moving at all–swallowing me up in a whirlpool of stone. My tie still hung around my neck, and my blazer remained tied around my hips as a skirt. Streaks of red dribbled off from the cavity in my chest. It was a gorgeous marking, sensual to my fingertips as I traced its edges. Purity, oh, Purity. Purity and his wings of burnt skin. Purity and his many faces. Purity the spoiled. Purity the mutilated. The Silbys did not bother waiting for me. On bare feet, they stormed up the stairs to their room. A trail of red, though in paint unlike mine, streamed after them. None looked remotely near me as they squeaked and gossiped intangibly. I saved them, those Infran broads, enlightened them. As much as they liked to deny it, spit at me, and bask in the thought of their victimhood, in this home, they stood empowered. You’ve done well, my thoughts affirmed, though in the manner of an insincere commentator rather than a hype man. Teeth grace in tile violin goes laundry paper when. It dissolved into an intruding drivel. I rubbed my head and sniveled. “Do you need help, Knox?” called a Silby. Fattened by my coddling, her shadow fell upon me from the doorway steps ahead. I attempted counting again. There must’ve been at least another hundred between me and her. “I’m hallucinating some,” I said, breathing deeply to suppress a burp as I struggled to recall her name. Two syllables. Typically Latin, though sometimes English. Drops of slobber leaked from my mouth. “I’m hallucinating some, Tybal. Do you like your name, Tybal? I would have named you something better. Ty-Tyballinia. No, we’d have to eliminate the ‘ball’ aspect. It sounds too crude.” “One foot in front of the other,” she said. So I walked. Mess greeted me at the doorway. Dirtied culinary obscured the dark wooden countertops, and the sink lay running. I approached the kitchen table, sat, and set my face down upon its cool wooden surface. Assaulting my nose was the smell of neglected flowers, like soil mixed with the kind of sweet cough medicine that would have left me gagging as a child. Open windows whispered songs of the twilight hour through the vessels of busy trolleys and shooting guns. My mouth strained to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach to regurgitate except the petals of Stulto’s bloom, which came out effortlessly in little sputters. Teetering, I stood up and brushed disgorged plant parts off the tabletop. “Love,” I said as I slogged up yet another staircase. “Are you awake?” She said she’d wait. Somebody’s gotten her. No, she always misses movie night. That sleepyhead, I assured myself. There was a stirring amidst the manor’s cloak of dusk. Portraits of myself, my wife, and my daughter turned to face me as the hallway lights flickered, escaping their quartz frames to penetrate my ears with nonsense. The taxidermied heads of Infran creatures bared their teeth. I stopped to stare at my favorite, an adabactor with daunting spiked tusks poking out from its forehead. Its nose remained black and sharp, and its eyes wide with malice. “Where is my Spes, Adaba-boy? Is she sleepy?” There’s someone in the house. The sounds of the stirring rose along with my blood pressure. Footsteps orbited around me, drawing near and far and then near again, little dancers in the dark. The carpet immersed me in its mass of purples and blues, leaving my skin stained indigo and my vision abstracted. I toiled to reach the master bedroom across the aisle as it stretched out to me with bright lights and celestial howling, like a dove struggling in a pool of oil. Never again with Stulto’s bloom. Never again on what was already a bad night. My hand brushed the doorknob, and the high abruptly faded into only a persistent hum-buzz twirling around my brain. The portraits returned to their typical depression–Spes posing with her ax, Ari’s school photo, and myself in the cap I wore when addressing the military with the Verbis emblem embroidered in its center. All lifeless shots. Who were they for when they captured not the subject’s essence but only some fragment of their identity? They used to feel personal, not advertisements of some supposed characters. Servants, babysitters, and likewise civilian guests, I reminded myself, mustn’t forget whose home they’re in. Yet my body moved independently, taking Ari’s from its hook and laying it backward against the wall to hide her distant grin and tamed posture. It was time for new pictures. Sweet ones, real ones; time was ticking. I approached my own when the stirring began again. Groans and squeals erupted from the vents as if someone had set a pen of pigs loose in my crawlspace. No, not the crawlspace, my bedroom door. I turned the ruby knob. Underneath a blanket wrestled my two squealing piglets, their skins melting together beneath the layer of duvet. Fishnet leggings and manicured nails outstretched and scraped at the sheet beneath them. One raised its head, a salmon-colored man with sweat running down his forehead. Through the crack in the door, we met eyes, his Infran Dr. Sesuss nose flaring its narrow nostrils. No mark of the Spoiled Purity existed carved onto his naked body. My chest felt tight. I stepped back. I was suffocating. Spes emerged from the linens, her hair flowing down her back and her dark skin glistening in front of the bedroom window. She giggled and held the man, the blanket falling and revealing inches of her body I had not seen in months. “Darling,” whispered the rosy-faced man, “look.” He was unfathomably ugly and grotesquely young, with beady, lifeless pupils that dilated when he faced me. The excess flesh on his face sagged while he bit down on his thin lips. My wife faced me, gasped, and strained to cover herself. Suddenly, I was a stranger. A small child who had walked into his parents having sex. I unfurled the door completely. “Get out of my house,” I said. The man stayed in place. “Get out of my house,” I repeated. “Knox,” Spes began. Tears ran down her round cheeks. “Shut up!” I turned to the man, picking up a marble trophy from on top of my dresser. “Get out of my house! I’ll kill you!” “Knox!” Spes sobbed. “God damn it! I hate you! You barely look at me. Every day, there’s less passion. God, God, God, I don’t want to fuck a dead man!” she screamed, “You get out! Get! Get!” My hands wrapped tighter around the statue. That pig of a man was attached to her at the side, his face equipped with a scowl that challenged mine. He thought I was weak; frail like a decaying dementia-ridden senior. I imagined his skull bashed in, his scowl gone, and the feist and confidence in his face beaten into numbness. A new portrait was in order of such brutality, him as a splintered slab of wood, rashed and beaten, a carcass licking my boot. The churning in my brain had come back. Every wall shook. Clock faces came to life and rang in alarm. Indescribable noises caressed my eardrum before breaking into sorrowful weeps. Was it my own? I stared at Spes in motionless frenzy, clenched my teeth, and screamed like a siren. Passionless. What a lie! An excuse, more like. One that erased all my ventures, reducing me to a nobody. But I was not a nobody. I thought of my sect, my campaigns, my endurance through the political brutality of my empty hive-mind world–even my collection of literature, maps, and artifacts. I thought of daring nights alone with Spes when we were young, ravaging each other, two sardonic eggheads suddenly overcome with desire. The veins in my neck throbbed as I gasped for air. It was all I had. I threw the figurine at the man’s head. Eye shut, I heard the thud. A million singing voices of victory flooded out of the cracks in the floorboard. Proving myself a man to the woman I loved in a display of fervent violence was passion. I strained my ears for his cries, though I did not look yet. There had to be a pause, a moment of relief, where I stood tall as a skyscraper and seemingly fought to stay contained in front of my wife and her wounded, quivering paramour. Frantic footsteps rushed off the bed and past my side. I turned and grappled against myself to seize my wife’s shoulder. “Spes!” My eyelids lifted. Escaping was the man with that same numb expression in which I had imagined him. “You’re insane,” he said. I swiveled back towards the bed. With her curly locks flowing over her breasts and her limbs bent at her sides, Spes sat limp pressed against the headboard, her forehead bludgeoned and the statue resting on her stomach. Lips pursed and sweet, my Renaissance beauty reclined there in the guise of a squashed bug. But she was not dead. The desk ornament I flung was only the size of my shoe. Spes, that dramatist, may have been slightly hurt but was far from dead. She only wanted me to think she was to observe me at my most distraught, like a leech feeding on misery. “Get up.” Staggering toward the bed, I said. “You wanted passion? I showed you passion. ‘Shoved it right into your head. Of course, we both know who that gesture was meant for. . .” I fumbled to find my wit. Cold skin met my hands as I stroked her face, unable to resist checking her pulse, even though she was not dead. “I love you, Spes,” I said. Rain pelted against a nearby window. “Spes, please. Please.” No vibration answered my plea. I lifted my hand, sitting next to her now. Tears did not come. There was not any blood on the trophy, but when I picked it up, it felt to be now only a cruel instrument. It depicted a younger me in white marble, with my glasses and collared shirt being the only things painted. Both were in pink. It was a favorable color. I scrambled from the bed to vomit pure digestive bile on the rug. My stomach heaved. I ran my nails along every piece of myself I saw, a dog chasing my tail. As I slammed myself against walls and convulsed, my own heart grew ever louder in my chest. “Dad? I heard–” Ari’s slippered feet hammered across the floor. “Mom? Mom?” I kept my eyes on the storm. Silence fell. “She-She isn’t—your—.” Gasps interrupted every syllable she spoke. “You’re a murderer. Bad. Like they said,” she breathed, “ You beat her!” The words became mush, alphabet soup. Ari ran back down the hall. “My-My mom is dead. . . .Yes. . . Manor of the Trials Sovereignty. . .Ari Sorkin. . . I’m afraid he’s going to hurt me,” she said, presumably over the phone. It was all too fast. I crawled onto the windowsill, opened the glass, and let myself plummet into the alley below. Gusts of wind howled. The lack of motion or sensation informed me I had passed and again lived. Another Palatium Infra, another strange planet in which the celestial endowed rotting men with the opportunity to inhabit. Was this it? Was it all just an impossible limbo of galactic traveling? My surroundings were overwhelmingly gray, an abyss of clouds. Perhaps I had now met the real coming world, and my family and old friends lived here, ready to rush to my sides, lift me up, and jump for joy. Spes would be there. She would be enraged, but at least she’d be there. You are a bad man. You are a bad man. My eyelashes fluttered. There was a tugging sensation in my leg. The fog was wavering along with my ascendance. “No,” I yearned, trying to grip the clouds and stick them in place. “Stay with me.” But the peace was fleeting. I felt the cement under me and the moist garments clinging to my figure. My leg burned. Carefully, I craned my neck, only to observe the promenade as my surroundings. The most underwhelming of filth and danger, individually Infran. Forever my coming world. What a fool I was, having forgotten my blessing. Those idiot Gods could not tell the difference between assassination and self-infliction; a faulty insurance plan. The urge to cry at last set over me, and so I sat and wailed hot salvia into my palm, shielding my mouth to muffle the noise. Thunder echoed my hushed howling. Raindrops turned to pebbles. Under the ambiance of the stormy night, I could have sworn I heard troops stomping, guns cocking, and the chanting of my name. They had all been waiting for this. Billboards came to life, and I could only sit and spectate as the scenery flashed red. I inhaled fear and sobriety through runny nostrils. “Trials Sovereign Vsevolod “Knox” Sorkin is currently at large for the suspected homicide of Spes Sorkin, breaking the first term of the Sovereignty Charter. We now instruct you to report any sightings of the Earth-born, caucasian, roughly 195 centimeters tall, brown-haired, and brown-eyed man to your local Guard post. One can identify the suspected convict specifically by an occult tattoo of Purity’s Coronet on his lower back. No attempted execution or elongated punishment will take place until our Guards conduct an autopsy proving his guilt, per Life’s 1238 commandment. We cannot be sure when or if the Gods will revoke his blessing. Remember, when Gods frown upon strife, opt for a peaceful life. We permit all grieving festivities until Cagidus 4th. Good year!” towering buildings sang out in broadcast, repeating that same convoluted message quicker the instant it ended. Sometimes, the announcer spoke in Latin for the Infran children, other times in Chinese, Hindi, or Spanish to cater to those of irrelevant tongues. You aren’t a bad man. You are a stupid boy. Puddles sloshed. Somebody was approaching. I didn’t dare waste any remaining energy avoiding the Guards and their prodding blades. How did that phrase go? You dug your grave. Now lie in it. And so I embraced the cement. “Knox?” said the Guard. No, her tone was too sincere, and no authority would proceed in such a manner. There wasn’t confirmation on whether or not I was armed, and it wasn’t as if she could shoot me first. She was a partygoer, having just left from the cellar’s backdoor. I shooed her away with my hand. She hovered, and I discerned her shadow hesitating over my body. A man could not rot in peace. “Come on, get up! They’re after you!” Hands reached around my torso, struggling to handle my weight as they urged me onto my feet. That leg, the burning one, my right, trembled and bent unnaturally upon impact with the ground. The partygoer slung my arm over her shoulder, balancing me. My eyes caught a glimpse of a cyan mop. “Anwen?” I rasped, “hu-who let you out?” Keys jangled in her hands–my keys. “I escaped,” she said casually, coercing me to walk beside her. “Quicken your pace. I just heard somebody on your front porch. ‘You see that compost bin down the alley? We’re gonna burrow right down into the depth of that. If they open it and uncover us, I’ll be on top, and I can hide you and act like I’m just a homeless amica trying to take a nap.” With a tightening grip, she led me like livestock to the stinking crate. “I don’t understand, Anwen,” I said. “They’re going to torture and kill you, stupid. You know they’ve been wanting to, and you just handed the opportunity to them!” “I understand that.” It was becoming increasingly challenging to hide the fragility emerging in my voice. “You said you were escaping. Why stop and help your captor?” “What else could I do? Leave you there?” Attempts to shove my wounded body inside its mass of discarded fruits and vegetables began. She yanked down upon my head and submerged me in the fertilizer sea. The evidence grows indisputable, I thought as I stared at the abruptly humane Infran girl, diving in after me, that I belong here. “Damn me to hell! I’ve killed her! My love is dead!” an uncontrollable cry leaped from my mouth. “Shut up! Soon you’ll be, too, if you don’t quiet down.” The actual noise of the Guards darted past us: disorientated marching, guns clanking against each other, cluttered belts rattling, the Latin squawking. One paused to open the bin’s lid, though only rummaged through the surface layer of peat before carrying on. “What are they talking about? I struggle with my Latin,” I whispered. “The search, mainly.” Aggression remained firey in Anwen’s clenched jaw. Though she sat on top of me, there was a monumental distance between our rain-soaked forms. I curled up into a ball, ducked my head between my knees, and dreamt of Spes, ignoring the stench of spoiled food rising from every crevice of my dwelling. The next coming world was due to adopt me again as I forced sleep. I prayed for a canyon of fluffy haze, where I waltzed with pale memories but found nothing but the petrifying stillness of my mind. Killed and ran. Violent as a Guard just to prove a point and watch it backfire. Why would any heaven want to welcome me? I clung to the picture of Spes in my head like it was the last ember of an extinguished flame. “Did you mean to kill her?” Anwen interrogated. “Someone like you would immutably believe yes.” “And who is someone like me? You can’t even treat me like a person for a moment, can you?” grating drama decorated her words. “You know my opinions. I have not seen much of your or your breed’s faces besides that of cruelty and ignorance.” I retorted. “I just saved you! Does that make me cruel and ignorant?” “It makes you an idiot, which is another word for somebody ignorant.” “And why am I an idiot?” She asked. “Because you helping me does no good. Thank you anyhow. Now, do yourself a favor and scram.” As she bent her leg in anticipation, preparing to strike me on the forehead, I sensed an invisible withdrawal widening the gap between us. “You never answered my question,” Anwen took me by the end of my tattered tie suddenly and started her game of shepherd and sheep over again, pulling me back up to the crate’s exit. It appeared as a shining light at the end of a maze of rubbish and mold. “No. Of course not. Spes was my everything,” I sniffled. “I knew it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to hit us, let alone murder your wife. The girls and I always figured you were sensitive.” My heart rate quickened. Today was one of humbling and misery–one to pray a hail spike would fall from the sky as sharp as a needle, pierce into my eyelid, and lobotomize me. I wished I could have merely died or hit my head hard enough not to have to deal with it all. No, I wished I was Anwen with her snarky, careless glow and lack of depth in her eyes. As we emerged from the compost bin together, I fantasized about strangling her until her face turned purple, her weakening spirit no longer categorizing me as “sensitive”, but the thought could only remind me of wielding that trophy and the microscopic traces of my wife’s tender skin tainting it, which turned my guts inside out. “That’s why I think you could use a little help,” Anwen said, “It seems like you can’t walk, either. Your leg is all twisted up.” She undid one of her trim pigtails and handed me the band. “Take off your tie and put up your hair. ‘Will make you less recognizable. Then swallow your pride and stick with me.”

Forces - Forces and Terminal Velocity

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