Don't Sweat the Technique

[Jensen James]

Jensen sat outside the Consul's office, already having asked to speak with the man, but the secretary refused him. Standing his ground, Jensen asked if he could sit and wait. Allowed to do so, he watched a number of people file in and out of the office. A few faces turned his way, but everyone overlooked him. Nobody knew that he was the sole person responsible for saving the life of the Ascendancy and preventing the world from plunging into turmoil.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked again at the Consul's office door. He could feel the channeling within, even from out here. It wasn't like anything the Ascendancy could do, but it was impressive anyway.

[Marcus DuBois]

A thrill crept up his spine and Malik smiled. It was as if he could see her thoughts, could see the vistas and landscapes of what was possible opening up before her eyes.

He almost envied her. Almost. For him, the worlds he explored existed in a Platonic reality- or, if he wanted to look at it another way, as enumerations of predefined mathematical structures, patterns more intricate than anything that could exist, that existed in some computational apparatus.

His world was a reality that could only exist in the mind, mathematical tools invented to continually open up new islands of pure symmetry, continents and underground caverns of harmony, mountain spires of beauty and cascading thunderious waterfalls of order. And connecting it all, a vast expanse of tunnels filled with gems and geodes, the hidden axioms and theorems and conjectures, connecting the most disparate of continents into one beautiful whole- perfect and transcendent.

Only in the mind could a Koch snowflake exist, built recursively from one iteration of a triangle to the next, repeating endlessly; a shape with an area that despite being completely finite (only 5/8's the area of the original triangle) had a perimeter that was infinitely long. Starting from a single point on the edge of the snowflake and then traveling forward, along the edge, one point to the other, on and on, one length and turn after another, on into infinite, one would never reach the starting point. Infinite. Never ending.

In reality, in this universe, it was impossible. On paper, even in with the most precise of pens, or using technology, dragging individual atoms into the shape, there was always a floor, a place where the next iteration could not be made. The resolution of reality could go no lower, the bar set, Planck's constant forever blocking reality from being any smaller.

But Dr. Zayed played in a different universe, a hybrid universe. Her research would play out in a different realm than his own. And for just a moment, he wished he could play in that universe too.

Time. There just was never enough time. The world was too big to let go. There was too much of importance to do. Order had to be brought to the chaos.

Still, Malik thought, a Sith will allow himself indulgences. Power is an end, to be sure. But what good power if it is not enjoyed?

Balance was the key. Not in pleasures, to be sure. But in how one lived. One was as important as the other. Life was visceral and bloody and sweet and tender. To be savored and ripped and caressed. To be analyzed and studied and cataloged. To push and to prod and to shape. Each experience changing you that much more, contributing its small mite, its quanta of difference.

The smile that blossomed on her face was beautiful and transformed her face. It was breathtaking to behold and Marcus' brown eyes softened as his own mirrored hers, joyful in her joy. He was struck but its alienness- a thing he had never seen- such pure unadulterated happiness. "I am pleased that you will join us. I believe one day, people will look back on this as something quite momentous- perhaps every bit as so as Ascendency's revelation."
And enough of that. There was optimism and then there was weaning arrogance. He waved his hand.

"Obviously, it will take a bit of time to get you into our systems. Protocol and all that. In the meantime, though, if you would start to put together your requirements- type of locations, material, equipment, funding, staff- you may bring anyone you wish who you think will help you- we can begin getting this ready for you. And I am pleased to send you my own work in case you might find it useful."


Malik stood, smoothing his coat and offering a hand to help her to her feet. He smiled at her, a friendly smile that perhaps contained a bit more that was strictly necessary. "While I will not be able to work directly with you on this, I would appreciate being appraised of your work- your ideas and theories and discoveries. I confess I am a bit jealous at what you have before you. Being allowed to play a little bit in your universe would be wonderful."


Edited by Marcus DuBois, Nov 7 2017, 04:51 PM.

[Danika]

It felt a little blaspemeous to compare their projects to the Ascendancy's accomplishments but the glint in her eye did not dull at the thought. Her mind already spun with all there was to do. For one thing, she had a bizarre resignation letter to write to MCU. Then there was the matter of dealing with the transfer of all her laboratory equipment, projects, data, samples, and people. Technicians, graduate students, scientists. She was part of an entire team of people that would either make the shft, depart stable jobs and venture into the uncertain or stay where they were. How to tell them?

What would she set up? What kind of budget would she have? And working with Marcus regularly. He was already so talented. Nothing she could do would rival him. Maybe he could even participate in experiments. The two of them working together, manipulating matter. It was intoxicating.

The way he smiled at her when she left didn't escape her notice either.

[Marcus DuBois]

Malik's smile lingered as she left. The promise of power reached out to him like sinuous hand, gently caressing his cheek. He felt that if he tried hard enough, he could almost envision a thread connecting her Dr. Zayed, stretching out endlessly.

He had collected another. Perhaps the most interesting so far. More so than Pyotr. The fascination at her joy seemed to pulse, but he pushed it away. It wasn't that. No. Control. It seemed a natural thing, to him. Collect people. Find their handles, maintain those threads, strengthen them over time, be what they needed him to be. A thousand levers to push and pull at need.

He laughed at a perverse thought. Perverse because it violated the very heart of the expression of St. Paul. "I have become all things to all sorts of people." Indeed. His thread with Ascendancy was of one sort. It required the delicacy, handling with the most care.

And there were moments when he'd let his guard down and speak from the heart. There, in the bowels of his apartments, just before the attack, he had done so. For a moment, shame at his pathetic weakness threatened to burn him and instinctively his mind tried to shunt the thought away. It was not what a Sith would have done. But as he had learned, he embraced the feeling, examined it, followed it. Analyzed it from that place of freezing cold on the mountain top.

It hadn't been calculated, not in any premeditated sense. But perhaps it had been instinct. That had to be it. Instinctively, he was adapting, being what he needed to be in his relationship with Ascendancy,

So it would be with Dr. Zayed. Malik smiled at the thought, a bit of relief flooding him. Strangely, an image came to him of them working together, the universe revealing itself to them in all her glory. Such power...its heady scent lingered, a hint of light perfume in the air, as she left.

At his doorway, his eyes watched her attractive form retreat before focusing on the shape seated in his ante-room. Immediately, his demeanor changed and he adopted a smile of a different sort. Another thread presented itself. "Mr. James. This is an unexpected surprise."
To his secretary, "Please move my appointments back a half hour. Thank you."
He extended a hand to Jensen James, ushering him into the his office. He had to be careful.
There was a debt- not that he believed in them-
but Jensen might- he owed the man. Ascendancy owed him too.

More importantly, the man had something he wanted. He'd watched and learned something of his healing. But the one time he'd had an opportunity to try it on a small mouse had ended with the thing writhing in agony. He'd had to break its neck to end the squeals. With more time, it would make more sense.
Especially if he could get the man to more forthcoming. Not this visit, he was sure. The man had been notoriously close lipped despite all his efforts at playing the religious angle. But the thread could be strengthened, a dependency or patronage developed. There were always possibilities.

"Please, come in. I trust you are well."
He gestured to the chair previously occupied by Dr. Zayed and then took the one next to it, for very much the same reasons.

"How can I help you?"

[Jensen James]

"Hello, Consul,"
he dipped his head as shared the greeting. Their accents collectively stood out against the sounds surrounding them, but for vastly different reasons.

"I'm sorry to bother you. I know you're busy."
He certainly saw as much while sitting outside his office, waiting. He recalled the look on the face of the young lady that just departed. She certainly seemed far more important than him. "I just wanted to know how much longer I have to stay here. It's been a while, and just want to know what to expect."


Ever since the business with the Ascendancy's healing, he'd not been allowed off grounds.

[Marcus DuBois]

Marcus adopted a commiserating look. The man had been patiently waiting. He probably felt as if his life were on hold. He knew the feeling, waiting on the status of applications. Now that he thought about it, the last time had been waiting on the results of his application into the Sigma program. And he was willing to admit he'd become restless.

Malik had hunted a lot those months. A lot. Enough that a frisson of fear lanced through him. He was always careful. But you could never plan for everything. All it would have taken was one mistake. Or someone to notice them. The Chicago PD was swamped and from what he knew, no enterprising young detective on the make had put things together- not enough to detect the pattern in the murders that had occurred. The victimology, timing and methods of death were different enough that the standard AI's that the PD surely used to flag possibly related crimes had not made the connection.

A person, though, could have used his intuition. Gone with his gut- the essence of unpredictability. In hindsight, it was possible Marcus was subconsciously trying to burn all his bridges. Go out with a bang. And perhaps- perhaps- it had been a subtle message to Andre. He paused. No. It couldn't have been that...could it? Of all people, though....yes, Andre might have been the one to put it together. He knew some of the victims himself. Perhaps he suspected. Perhaps that was why he'd ignored Marcus' offers to come to the CCD.

He marveled at his fortune- or luck. Or fate. He'd gotten away with it. The universe had had more in store for him than a standoff with the police. He had no illusions how that would go. He would take as many with him as possible.

Strange. Very strange. Here, though, he felt so much safer. None of his victims were connected to him or each other. None of it was personal, at least not in that way. Still...when the time came and he went out again, he'd have to take extra precautions. Not just Oakland's force mask. It had screamed to him what it was- what Oakland was- and he had torn it away with the force to reveal the man underneath. Perhaps something more conventional was needed. At least until he figured his way around creating weaves no one could see. That imaginary term still called to him. Yet another thing to work out. In th meantime, though, surveillance evading facial wear might be best. Other things. He'd need to do some research.

But James needed his attention now. His smile had remained and he was effusive in his apologies. "I can understand your frustration. I'm sure you understand the precautions. Your healing was nothing short of miraculous. But there was still concern that the Ascendancy-"
he did not mention himself, but it would be understood all the same- " might need further healing. The, ahh, nature of the healing is so new and alien to us that we feared your being unavailable should you be needed at a moment. The Ascendancy's health affects everyone."


He could almost imagine the disappointment that the man might feel. He waited a moment to allow it to sink in. He needed the man to feel despair before throwing him a lifeline. "Still, I think time has shown that this new type of 'medicine' works well enough to not require any followups. We still view you as an ally and resource we'd like to call on. At the same time, we understand you'd like to go about your life. I had meant to call you in in the next couple of days, as I have already spoken to the Ascendancy about this. The Consulate is willing to release you to your own custody- with the understanding that you not leave the country- while you train others in your manner of channeling."


He raised a finger preemptively. He knew the man demurred when he'd asked- nearly begged, playing every angle he knew- for this teaching. "I understand this may not be what you want. I know that. But what you do can help too many people. We need you, Mr. Jensen. The people need you. You have been the Samaritan, willing to help a stranger as your neighbor. We are now asking if you would do us one more kindness and teach other Samaritans. They are out there."


He pulled his desk around and pulled up the list he'd prepared for the meeting he'd originally planned. "The registration has given us a pool of thousands of channelers with numerous abilities. It might interest you to note that not a small percentage have followed your example and used their divine gift to help others. On a small scale, surely. Nothing as spectacular as what you can do, nor as effective, from what we can tell. Still..."


He let the words sink in, allowing Jensen to see the list- last names redacted, but descriptions of their abilities intact. " But with people like this, I imagine it would be easier for you to teach. They are further along than I would be if I took your training. Imagine the help that could be offered. The number of people in the world you could minister to, at least indirectly."


He sat back and let things settle. "I know it's not exactly what you asked for. But would you be willing?"
He hoped the man didn't say no. He had other angles to take. But this was the best one. With the implication that once the training was done, he would be free.

[Jensen James]

Marcus looked strong and well. Jensen had only seem glimpses of the Consul here and there in the past several weeks. The man was always surrounded by a group of individuals, hanging on his every word, noting his every sentence. The Consul of what could be arguably the most important, and most powerful, new group in the government ever could not have noticed anyone like himself skirking around the Kremlin. It's not that there hadn't been enough to do. On the contrary, Jensen marvelled at the museums, ate meals in rooms where kings once dined, and witnessed heads of state come and go. The day the Americans arrived, though, he made sure to stay in his bedroom. His southern drawl stood out like a flash of light in the middle of a dark country road. He wouldn't risk anyone asking questions of his presence, even by random chance.

He made phone calls. He read up on current events, even flipped through the pages of a book he'd downloaded a year ago. He caught up with Doulou, the benefactor to his life here in Moscow. He tried to call Jon Little Bird, but there was no answer, or perhaps calling the American lawyer was blocked by CCD surveillance.

One day he walked along the walls of the Kremlin's red brick fortress, imagining what it had been like to stand upon their pillars during the height of World War II. He had only seen the Ascendancy once as well, and from an even greater distance than he observed Marcus' passage. He was on the news, though, appearing as strong and healthy as Marcus did before him. It was truly remarkable.

To share that remarkable thing with someone else, though? Jensen shifted in his seat uneasily. Whatever it was that he did, he had no idea how to even go about teaching someone else. Marcus asked once, Jensen recalled to his shame, but he'd never even tried to teach the other man.

He nodded about the explanation of his extended stay. He'd be lying if he didn't expect something like that to happen. Jensen shuddered to imagine what would happen if the Ascendancy died. Another uncomfortable shifting in his seat came about when Marcus mentioned the ministry. Returning to faith, to the pulpit, and to the arms of a thousand people was exactly what he wanted to avoid. He knew what the presence of a healer would do to the weak and weary. He would become the very thing he wanted to avoid, must avoid. Yet neither did he want to deny someone the chance for health and vitality simply because of his fears.

But Marcus had more news. He could leave the Kremlin? He perked up. "Thank you so much, Consul."
There was a trade-off, though. He had to train others. "I'm afraid I have no idea how to teach anyone else, but I am willing to try."
His smile was weak, but not insincere. "Just tell me where to go and when, and I will be there. And if anyone needs my help, please relay that too. I am glad you're doing well."

[Marcus DuBois]

Marcus smiled at James' obvious relief. More specifically, at the man's willingness to teach. He didn't know how and Marcus could understand that. Ability and teaching were not the same thing. Still, it was an art and the man had been a preacher. He could learn.

"I appreciate that Mr. James. And I understand your fears."
The apprehension and refusal to even try to teach him had been borne of fear. That much had been obvious. Of what, he wasn't yet sure. "I have in my employ a channeler who was trained his abilities by another."
Different training, to be sure. Sanjay had learned from Vellas, and what he taught was very nearly the opposite of healing. "While he might have no latent skill with healing, he does have the necessary vocabulary and understanding to communicate how to teach channeling. He has already begun with others. I will have him visit you and teach you how to teach this."


Marcus, of course, would try to attend some of the classes, when he had time. But this would give Jensen a head start. He nodded to the list of names. "I will forward you this list. Read their registration forms. Find any that stand out- even excite you."


He paused. His encounters with Spectra and Oriana had already yielded fruit. He'd met a few women channelers since the registration and it had confirmed his suspicions. "However, I do recommend that you choose only men at this point. You might have some difficulty teaching women. The power is...different for them. You cannot see what they do and they cannot see what you do. There might be more to it as well."
And that was really all he could say about that. It was somewhat irritating that teaching was going to break down along gender lines. Classes for men and for women. He had no doubt that as this became more well known, someone might try to use that to say something about gender equality. It only stood to reason.

He sometimes wished he could clone himself. There was so much to do. Sanjay had done a good job of teaching, so far, enough that a few of the men were already being able to control what they did. Which was usually lighting a candle or something simple. But they were coming along. The Consulate was in its infancy, but plans were already being made to expand and leverage the power of channelers into every part of life in the empire. And in many ways, Marcus would stand at the head of that organization.

His smile on the outside as he showed Jensen out was nothing to the gleeful grin on the inside. He had to be patient. Build, step by step, brick by brick. It would take years. But he was young. And hungry. The power called to him. Not simply the Force. Power.

He felt the familiar slithering in his stomach. Malik was awake. And ready. Soon. Very soon he would go out. It was time for the Dark Lord to be set free.


Edited by Marcus DuBois, Nov 20 2017, 05:40 PM.

[Jensen James]

With all the talk about teaching others to use the gift to heal, Jensen never considered the possibility that it may be a different feat for women. It was something of a relief, he nodded, easily agreeable. He found working in close proximity with women to be difficult, sometimes, his own wife excluded of course. Then again, he wasn't completely thrilled about working in close proximity with other males, either. He sighed. It was going to be impossible to teach anyone if he refused to interact with everyone. He would grit his teeth and at least give it a go.

He thanked the Consul for his incredibly valuable time and departed shortly thereafter, looking forward to escaping the fortress walls.