Stephen's Private Blog #12
These stories about Stephen began was when he was 10 years old, and
moving to a new part of the country to attend a special school for
gifted students, in the 1950's. This was from a time before computers
would fit on a desk, and when people communicated with friends in other
countries by actual letters sent through the postal service. He wrote
225 of them to a friend. He stopped writing to his penpal, but found he
still wanted to record his life, in case he lost his memory again, and
wrote 30 entries in his first logbook. Now he is writing to an
artificial intelligence called Geenee, in the master computer in his
school for gifted students, which he started attending in 2016.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
Stephen is 11 in this story, in the Winter, just before New Years of
year 2 of his special school.
Stephen's Private Blog #12 "Burn and Pillowage"
Dear Geenee,
My master's and doctoral work in psychology requires some hours of
counseling. For that, I'm working part time in the FBI building as an
interview counselor intern. I don't get paid, because we never ask for
money when we assist any government. Current workers and new applicants
take tests, and I ask them questions, and an Adept, who doesn't have to
be even in the same country, scans them. I'm proud they trust me with
knowing about that. Adepts can partition their minds, so when the
office is being used, one is always watching in the back of his or her
mind while they're doing more important things. If they have something
to report, they tell me in my mind, and I put it in the report. I watch
for lies with my body reading and emotion sense, and write that up,
too. It's a little boring, but a little interesting, too, with how they
react to a little boy doing the interview. There is a Port-All in my
office there, which the secretary knows about, and the Director.
Scholar Pete said the first Stephen was the first of the school to do
this job, and made it a commitment for the school. I'm proud to be the
youngest to do it, even younger than he was. There were two bad
incidents. One was because an applicant refused to be interviewed by a
child. He was scheduled for another appointment with an older
interviewer, but he wasn't hired. The other incident was when the Adept
who was scanning an applicant, reported to me he was bugged. We don't
allow that.
I knew what to do in that situation. I pushed 3 times rapidly on the
intercom, so the secretary in the outer office would know to call for
the security people. Then I fingered the switch on my fake "black box"
on my desk, and told the applicant, "Please turn off your bug. We don't
allow listening or recording devices here in the psychological center."
He said "I'm not bugged!" I said "You have your choice of three
actions. Turn it off. Get it fried, and probably parts of you with it.
Or leave now. Choose." He said "I don't have any of those things on
me!" I said "Last warning!" He was silent. I pushed the button, and the
adept fried his bug. Literally. Smoke came out of his clothes, and I
could smell burned clothes and skin. He screamed and jumped around,
grabbing himself. I said "That was a very unfortunate place to put
electronics, if you want to have kids someday." He really didn't like
that, but didn't have time to do anything about it before the security
guards came and took him away. Then the secretary came in and sprayed
some air freshener around. It didn't help much. I turned on my desk air
filter. I shook my head, and said to her, "Spy equipment, and personal
equipment, don't mix well around here." She almost strangled trying not
to laugh. I said "He's not going to get a job here, but his prospects
could have improved for elsewhere, since he now might qualify to guard
a harem." She lost her struggle, and exploded in laughter. I grinned
and said, "Gotcha!" She gave me a thumbs up sign, and went back to her
desk, still giggling.
I did feel sorry for the man, but he was warned three times. I think
he had it there so the metal zipper in his pants would mask the metal
parts when they used the wand on him. I'm not sure I could have made
myself hurt him like that. The Adept said in my head, "It does you
credit to feel that way, but when the time comes when action is called
for, you will do what you think needs to be done, no matter how you
feel about it. We know this about you, even if you don't, yet, and
respect you for it. Go with love. Discom." I didn't know what to think
about that, so I didn't.
I'm waiting for after I get psi training, before I decide on what
theses to write for my doctorates, because they expect my intelligence
to be higher then. No sense in deciding with my current thinking, when
I can do it with better thinking then. I wonder what it will be like to
be more intelligent. I can't ask anybody, because I wouldn't understand
the answer from a more intelligent person, and Tomba said they don't
exist, anyway. He said the first Stephen had a 600 IQ before his brain
injury, and I'm higher, but he's not smart enough to judge how high. I
know I think faster and bigger than the other people in the school, and
they are the smartest people in the world. But I don't feel smart
enough. The more I know, the more I see questions I can't find answers
to, which I think I could, if I were smarter. It's very frustrating,
when I think about it, so I try not to.
That evening, Mark stayed over, with Hasan, who is a little older
than him. Mark knew not to play favorites, because Ichi and I trade
partners whenever we can, sometimes right in the middle of things. Ichi
knows why, and really appreciates it, and thinks it's funny, too. I'm
usually too busy having fun to think about thinking about it. We all
squirted very well. Mark slept with me, and Hasan slept with Ichi. Not
completely. We switched in the middle of the night, so Hasan woke up to
see me, and grinned and grabbed my nuts. He said "I just invented a new
religion. Stephenism, and I'm worshipping at his altar right now." I
said "No! Absolutely not! I am just me, not a religion. Never!" He said
"But I do worship you." I yelled, "NO!" And I pushed him off the bed,
and he landed with a thunk on the floor. He got up and said, "Stephen,
what's wrong?" I yelled "I'm NOT a religion! I don't want to be
worshipped!" He said "I don't understand." He tried to hug me. I pushed
him away and ran out of the bedroom crying, and into the den.
I heard Ichi ask Hasan what he did, and the reply. At the same time I
heard Tim in my mind ask me what was wrong. I said "A little
relationship problem. It will work itself out in a minute." He said
"Alright. More noise, and I'll check back. Discom." Ichi was telling
Hasan, "Stephen is different. We can't really know how different, but
it's in a good way. He's a real strong man, so very few things hurt
him, except when people he loves push that difference on him. Saying
you worship him does just that. He wants friends. Equals to love and be
loved by, not worshipers, who can't love him as a boy, and accept his
love as equals. You hurt him deeply. Very deeply. Maybe you changed him
forever with that. I don't know. I don't know if even he knows. I don't
know what will happen now. He might never accept love from a boy ever
again. Or worse." Then he cried. Then Hasan cried. Then Mark, who was
angry, cried, too. I let that go for a minute, and then went back to
the bedroom.
I just stood there. They stood up. Ichi pushed Hasan to me, who said,
"Stephen, I'm very sorry. I didn't understand. I thought you would be
pleased, but I was stupid to think you were the kind of person who
would like that. You're not. You're much better than that. Please
accept my deepest apology. I didn't mean to hurt you. I really didn't."
I hugged him and said, "I know you didn't. I know you wouldn't. I'm
sorry I was mean to you about it." He cried some more. I said "Mark,
don't be angry with him. He didn't mean any harm. It wasn't the
smartest thing he ever did, but we all make mistakes sometimes. When we
learn from them, that's when we discover we are better people because
of them." Ichi looked at me in wonder, and said, "That's really wise."
I grinned and said, "I must have read it somewhere." He got the message
and said, "Sure." I said "Well, we're all awake now. There is time
I reached over and played with Hasan's nuts. They got the hint, and got
real busy building up to a really big squirting session.
The problem was solved, but Ichi was right. It did change me. I'm a
little more mature now. I can feel it. I don't know if it's a good
thing. I think Ichi can feel the change in me, too, and is sad about
it. We know there isn't anything to do about it, except accept it as a
part of growing up. One thing I do know. That day, Ichi was the wisest
of us all.
Goodbye for now,
Stephen
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Grant
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