NewU Pt. 07

"O...kay..." I said with a squint. "I'm almost certain that this has already been thought of."

"Hey, nobody ever said anything about the idea needing to be original, just that it had to be a unique contribution to the world of game development," he answered with a shrug.

"And which part of yours is unique?"

"The theory, obviously." He looked genuinely confused by the fact that he had to point this out. "I have read all the other proposals for this idea and none of them have the Jimmy take on it. They lack both my prowess on Modern Warfare and my grasp of the applications of virtual reality."

"Grasp on virtual reality?" I scoffed, swallowing down a cough of surprise. "How did you get such a great grasp of VR?"

"Porn."

"Ah." There were a lot of follow up questions bouncing around my head, but none that I felt an immediate urge to vocalize. "Well, as long as you've thought about it."

That is how things stayed for the next six hours, Jimmy was battling his way from one mission to the next and thoroughly enjoying the game that my work would one day render obsolete. Meanwhile, I was well and truly in the zone. Those six real-world hours translated into well over a week in my bunker where I was doing the work, the code coming on screen as my mind interfaced with the computer in front of me as fast as the processor would allow it. My fingers were just randomly moving over the keyboard, but Jeeves had kindly pointed out a skill that allowed the mind to send information directly to the machine. He called it the MMI, the man-machine interface, and it would grow to become one of my more useful skills as my understanding of my powers grew. By the end of those long hours, the basics of the new coding language had not only been designed, but had been implemented onto my PC. The difference in response times was incredible.

A computer is basically a series of electronic signals, and if you could slow down time enough to see the individual processes -- as I could -- you could measure how fast it was by timing the delay between the input and the output. Think of typing, something that most children are familiar with. Your finger pushes a button on the keyboard that sends a signal to the corresponding slot on the motherboard which then sends a signal to the CPU -- the microchip. That chip translates that input, interfaces with the word processing software via the computer's operating system, which in turn, sends a signal to the graphics card. The end result being that it sends the signal to the monitor to display the corresponding symbol on the screen--all of that just happens very quickly.

Scale that up to the actual functionality of the computer as a whole and you are left with an idea of how computer speed works, albeit a very basic one. The computer before me was pretty advanced already, any computer tasked with designing complex games needed to be. But with the new coding language implemented throughout its system, it was now running at speeds comparable to a low-grade super-computer. It was more than capable of going even faster, but although the operating system now ran on my new code, the applications it was running weren't. This lag in translation was slowing it down considerably.

It was amazing what could be achieved with a few hundred hours of work when your knowledge and comprehension of a subject was being augmented by the self-editing station and the time-dilation attributes of my bunker. But with the computer now capable of handling the workload, I was about ready to start working on the actual game's engine itself. But first it was time for a break. My mind was capable of working at this level almost indefinitely but being hunched over a keyboard for that long was playing hell with my back.

I sat myself up straight and rolled my neck, feeling the satisfying pops as the tension in my spine released itself before getting up and heading to the kitchen. Working like this required energy, and although it was possible to get a few hours of bunker sleep in a few short real-world minutes, food seemed to be the more logical option. Besides, I hadn't eaten anything since the day before and my stomach was starting to growl in protest. I still hadn't quite gotten the hang of my body's new nutritional requirements. Although it would seem that I was capable of going for long periods of time without food or rest, my body would rather I didn't.

I was halfway through making myself a simple sandwich when a strange feeling washed over me. Jimmy's head jerked up, a strange look on his face as he stared blankly at a small point on the living room wall for a few seconds. He stood up, letting the Xbox controller fall from his hands and onto the couch before turning towards the door. "I have to go," he announced in a vacant, monotone voice and strode towards the exit.

"Huh?" I blinked at him as he pulled the door open. "You okay, dude?"

"Yes. Fine." He answered simply, then walked out of the apartment, leaving the door open behind him. I was about to jump into his mind to see what was going on when another presence washed over me, a warmly familiar one.

"Jesus." Charlotte beamed as she strode into my apartment and closed the door behind her, "I thought he would never leave. I've been sitting in my car for an hour!"

"Did you just..." my frowning gaze flicked from Jimmy's vacant spot on the couch and to the door.

"Yup." She nodded with a wry grin. "Impressive, right? Although controlling someone like that gives me one hell of a headache."

"How did you..."

She was obviously expecting the question, either that or she was somehow already in my mind without me knowing it. "Oh, it's easy when you know how." She waved her hand dismissively. "Young Jimmy has an almost irresistible urge to clean his stove... immediately."

"I'm not sure he would appreciate that," I said with a grin of my own.

"I'm sure he'll live." She quipped back; her look of mirth still splayed across her features. "And judging from his memories, it could really use a good cleaning."

I shook my head with a small chuckle. Jimmy's head would explode if he had even the slightest notion of what had just happened, but even I had to concede, it was inconceivable that he would piece it together on his own. "So, what brings you to my humble abode?" I asked as Charlotte crossed the room and leaned herself against the breakfast bar.

"Sex." She answered a little too quickly.

"What?"

"You've had sex." She smirked.

"Erm..." I could feel the flush burn in my cheeks as I recounted not only the previous encounter with Evie, but the other girls who had made it back to my apartment in the month since I had last seen Charlotte.

"Oh, that many, eh?" her smirk grew into a full grin. "Oh, relax, Petey," she said, as she finally let that dazzling smile spread to her cheeks "Evo men are expected to take a lot of women, it's the only real way of propagating the species."

"What about women?" I asked, letting myself relax as instructed.

"Um..." she pondered her answer for a few seconds. "We can be pretty promiscuous as well, but we can only add to the species one child at a time. Once we are knocked up, our sex drive drops dramatically for those nine months, so we only tend to hook up with other Evos. It makes it more likely to birth a gifted child. But imagine how many human women a man could knock up in that time if he put his mind to it? Human men are a fun distraction, but the chances of a gifted child are a lot lower for some reason, it means we aren't as attracted to them." She shrugged as she tore off a chunk of my untouched sandwich. "It's a biological imperative. You can't fight nature."

"Right..." I squinted. "So, the men sleep with as many women as they can..."

"And the women don't," she finished for me.

"Hardly seems fair."

She thought about this for a moment. "Do you remember what I said about being inside an Evo's mind being the most intimate act we have?" I nodded. "Once an Evo has bonded with another, the physical act of sex, especially between an Evo and another human, just doesn't seem that important. Jealousy isn't really a thing in our society."

"Bonded?"

"Oh, that's a whole other lesson." She chuckled as she swallowed another mouthful of my sandwich. "Talking of which, that brings me to why I am here. Have you heard anything more from Marco?"

"Not a word." I shook my head as I slid the plate closer to her and started making another sandwich for myself, sacrificing the first to Charlotte.

She also shook her head, adding an exasperated sigh. "Fucking useless!" She muttered to herself as she pulled the plate closer and hoisted herself onto one of the barstools. "You know, I cannot believe how badly he has handled this. If I didn't know better, I would say it was done on purpose."

"Handled what?"

"Your training," she said, her hands waving animatedly around. "You think we are born knowing how to do stuff like that?" She gestured back to Jimmy's absence on the couch.

"Aren't we?" I asked. With the exception of Charlotte unlocking my city and showing me how to enter minds, I had worked out to do almost everything else myself. Although her outright control of Jimmy was, admittedly, far beyond what I thought I was capable of. That being said, she didn't have a Jeeves.

Why, thank you, Sir. I appreciate your confidence in me.

"Not now, Jeeves."

"Of course not," she answered with a frown. "Some of it is instinct, and I'm guessing that a lot of yours has to do with the strength of your powers and the fact that you were an adult when you were awoken. We don't really know what effect that level of maturity will have on your education, but no, we have to be taught and Marco, I'm assuming, is supposed to be your teacher."

"You assume?"

"Let me finish," she said with a playful smile. "Marco is fucking it up. So, I have decided to train you myself."

"Cool. Sounds good to me. When do we start?"

Charlotte blinked a few times. "Now, obviously."

"Oh, sorry."

"Anyway, the last time we were in that impressive little head of yours..." she tapped her finger against her forehead, "...I sort of told you about the split between my part of Evo society and the rest of it. So, we will start there. Let's call it 'Evo Societal History 101' and we will build from there. You've gotta know where we started before you can really understand where you fit in. We can get to training individual abilities another time." She swallowed the last mouthful of her sandwich just as I finished making mine. She looked around the room, her eyes finally settling on the empty space between the TV -- still showing the same point in the game as it was when Jimmy was compelled to leave -- and the sofa. "Come on," she said with a smile, stood from her seat and walked across the apartment.

I took one last look at my untouched sandwich, sighed and followed her into the living area. "I'm gonna starve at this rate," I mumbled to myself.

Charlotte smiled as I approached, positioned herself to face me and sat on the floor, gesturing to a spot a few feet in front of her to do the same. Once I was sitting in the same cross-legged position as her, she placed her hand on her knees and took in a deep breath. "Okay," she said in a calm voice, "I want you to rest your hands on your knees like I have, take a deep breath, close your eyes and exhale with a deep 'Ohhhhhhmmmm' sound. Try to clear your mind."

I nodded slowly, placing my hands on my knees as she had done, taking a deep breath, closing my eyes and exhaling. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmm." Charlotte burst out laughing.

"I can't believe you fell for that! You watch way too much TV." She laughed. "I'm just fucking with you. Just make yourself comfortable and shift a little closer. We have to be touching. Remember?"

I chuckled; I had no issue with being the butt of a joke if she was willing to train me like this. I scooted closer to her, still in the cross-legged position, until our knees were almost touching. Charlotte smiled at me. I had almost forgotten how staggeringly beautiful she was. She reminded me of a young Liz Hurley, and her smile lit up her face in a way that only Evie could compete with. She reached out her hand to mine. "Ready?"

"As ready as I will ever be." I took another deep breath and let my hand reach out for hers.

As soon as we touched, existence melted away.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The issue with anything I have learned from Charlotte is the difficulty in translating those lessons into words for my tale. Yes, there were times that she spoke, but usually our lessons in the mindscape were more like watching a narration layered over a series of images and memories. Some of those memories were hers, but the overwhelming majority were ones that she had been given by others, and some of those had been received second-hand as well. I came to understand a lot of what I knew about the Evos came from Charlotte's interpretation of second, third, and sometimes even fourth-hand memories that had been passed down through the generations. It was the equivalent of watching a documentary about the Second World War, made up entirely of the eye-view perspective of lots of different people, and narrated by someone who wasn't even alive when it happened. To say it was confusing was a huge understatement. But, as with many things in this story, I will try to translate as best I can.

In the beginning, there was Maria, or at least that's how Marco told it. She wasn't the beginning, even he had conceded that point, but she was the one credited with bringing the first known group of Evos together. That first assembly had taken place in the small town of Ulm in Germany around the turn of the 1400s. Over the course of a few years, they designed an almost cult-like secret society called 'The Conclave,' roughly based around the Catholic Church; there was a leader -- the Archon -- and varying lesser ranks beneath him.

The purpose of the Conclave wasn't as straightforward as you might imagine. The church, for example, was based around a shared belief, a communal place of worship where those beliefs were reinforced and spread. The Conclave was more like an imagined nation, a shared sense of identity that separated the first Evos from the rest of the world. This identity, however, was not based around geography, ethnic identity or a shared history like other nations of the time, but around the very real biological differences between its members and the rest of humanity. It was a place of learning, a place to share ideas, a place to explore abilities in safety and, as it grew, a place to guarantee the security of its members.

Each new acolyte was made aware of, and expected to uphold, certain responsibilities -- these would eventually become laws -- the number of which were mind-boggling. But the absolute highest of these was the need for secrecy. One fact that is as true today as it was all those centuries ago is that humanity is dangerous, and it fears nothing more that something different. Different cannot be understood, what cannot be understood cannot be controlled, and what cannot be controlled is a threat. Despite their obvious power compared to the average human, the Conclave were no match for the rest of the world in terms of sheer numbers. The Evos that found themselves exposed to mankind were, without exception, killed. It was a painful lesson that the Conclave took on board very early on.

Each rank below the Archon was expected to oversee the training and security of the rank below it. Each member of the lower rank was assigned to a mentor in the rank above, and this mentor would train the apprentice in how to make the most out of their abilities, the power of which varied massively from person to person. As cringe-worthy as it may seem, you wouldn't be far off course if you were to think of all this in the same terms as the Jedi Order in Star Wars. The mentors were also directly responsible for maintaining the discipline and security of their subordinates and, in many cases, this was enforced with a merciless iron fist.

The difference between The Conclave and the Church -- or even the Jedi Order - however, came when you looked at the manner with which these ranks were achieved. There were no experience requirements, there was absolutely zero chance of promotion, no need for respect or superiority, there was no list of achievements or accolades that were taken into consideration, and you could never graduate. There was only power.

A rank was earned simply by the virtue of how powerful an individual was.

This meant that the mentor was, and always would be, significantly more powerful than the people beneath them and there were many tales of the punishments dished out for lapses in the Conclave's expectation of secrecy. Charlotte had already taught me about duelling and the damage that could be done by one Evo against another. A more powerful mentor could easily breach the walls of a wayward apprentice and compel them, by force if necessary, to follow the rules. And if that didn't work, a subordinate could be drained of their powers at their will, have their memories wiped and simply be cast out. The rank system was permanent, and the rules they passed down to those assigned to them were to be followed without question. It was the only way, they thought, to guarantee the safety of the whole collective.

It probably seemed like a good idea at the time. In a society still made up overwhelmingly of serfs and the peasantry, being born into power was a simple and universally accepted fact of life. You were born into a class and, invariably, you would die in it. But as the ranks of the Conclave solidified into a bonafide class structure, a toxic mix of ego and avarice set in; ranks became forbidden to mix with one another outside of the various apprentice-master relationships. There was an almost god-like reverie for the class above yours, and utter contempt for the class below. Any mixing between the two, even outside the walls of the Conclave, may not have been strictly forbidden, but was certainly a subject of scorn, mockery, punishment and -- in extreme cases -- banishment.

Over the course of the next few centuries after the Conclave's founding, Evo numbers had exploded. A mix of pestilences and epidemics coupled with the dramatic increase in the human population led to more and more instances of unborn fetuses contracting diseases which caused the Evo mutation. Almost all of the known members of this new species found their way to the Conclave; they were welcomed, awakened, assigned a rank based in their power, and then spent the remainder of their very long lives in service to the new society.

But again, this is where the issues of translation come into play. Even as I was told this, I had pictures in my mind of large, ornate, church-looking halls filled with Evos bowing and scraping to the ranks above them. Living their lives like monks, confined to a single building and dedicating themselves to the good of the Conclave. But I was wrong. The Conclave itself rarely met in one physical location. Its members were free to go about their lives in much the same way they always had done, but there were certain commitments that had to be honored. If one member was discovered, for example, the others were obligated to offer assistance if they could. Much like an extreme predecessor of the Underground Railroad, this could involve hiding fugitives or killing their pursuers or anything else to help their brethren. But the overriding goal of every Evo was to work their way into positions of power within their own communities.

It was rare for individual members of the Conclave to meet in person outside of scheduled gatherings, an example of which would be the party that Marco had invited me to in a few short weeks, and was almost exclusively either between a mentor and one of his apprentices, or a chance meeting during the course of their day-to-day lives like had happened with Charlotte and me. An apprentice's training was done in the mindscape over several very short spans of real-world time. They were given the rules they were meant to live by, occasionally assigned a specific task and, aside from being expected to attend the gatherings, were left to their own devices accruing more and more power. It was a system that was wildly successful.