Stephen's Secure Blog #57
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. Then he wrote to an artificial
intelligence called Geenee, in the master computer in his school for
gifted students, which he started attending in 2016. Now it's 2018 and
later, and he's continuing to save his memories in a secure blog.
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 13 in this story, in the Summer, after the end of year 3 of
his special school.
Stephen's Secure Blog #57 "Smithsonian Adventure"
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The next day, I asked for a meeting with Pete. After we hugged and
sat, I said, "I apologize. I overreacted. It wasn't your fault in any
way. In fact, if you had briefed her before the meeting, it could have
been much worse." He said "You don't need to apologize, but I accept it
anyway. It's what all of us old ones fear the most. Not the Van, or the
GC, or baddies like the Centaurs, it's one of us going bad. To our
surprise, it only takes a mental illness seconds to make a monster out
of one of us." I said "Yes, and more. The old Team is getting really
old. Dan has Alzheimer's. What about dementia, or strokes? It hurts to
even think about those possibilities happening to those I love with all
my heart, but to think what they could mean to a Senior Adept, well, I
wish I didn't have to." He said "Me too, and not just because I might
be one of them soon."
I said, "You know, I think, I was going to withdraw from the group
after I got Ichi and the current generation up to speed. Same reason as
before. I'm too much. Just my being here holds people back. And I am
increasingly negatively affected by even the least idea of violence.
What I did to the Centaurs REALLY hurt me. I don't know if I can make
myself do things like that much more. Oh, and I'm not coming back. When
I die, I will not reincarnate. There will be no place among the people
we know in the galaxy, for me." He hugged me and said, "We know. And
that you won't end, too. We don't know what you will be, but it should
be very interesting, and if you like it, it must have a lot of the
equivalent of sex. AND, I'll speak for Chad, and say, no matter what,
you'll still be the cutest ever." I had to laugh at that, and so did
he.
Pete and I went to check on Ivanna. She was fine, and I let her Third
Eye open halfway, so she could feel our love and concern for her.
Before we left, I told her I would check her the next day. Then I
contacted Zander, to tell him about the Centaurs, and he laughed about
them waking up to see all that love and peace graffiti all over their
ship. I had to tell him it was Chad's idea, and he laughed some more.
Then he told me about a commission. A Presidential State dining service
for 40. The whole works in some crystal medium, decorated with embedded
designs of platinum and different colors of gold. Samples were asked
for. I said I would have them ready in a week. I made them in a few
minutes, and kept on going with other projects.
I had a problem. I found a gigantic natural ruby, that would cut to a
perfect star. Five of them, actually, each a low dome with a perfect
and intense six ray star, oval, about 11x14cm in diameter and 4cm
thick. Completely impractical for jewelry. I thought, "I can't make
jewelry out of them, so I'll make them adorn a box to put jewelry IN."
I cut and polished one of the stones, and carved the rim of it in an
intricate floral pattern, into which I set clear natural diamonds, in
platinum. I made the box out of precious metals, in the oval shape of
the ruby, but larger, and used the same floral patterns as I did on the
top where the ruby was, and set with different colors of natural
diamonds. Then I made three others, almost like it. Then I I asked
Tomba and Pete for a conference. and showed them the boxes, severely
underplaying their beauty. Then I said, "I want to give at least two of
them away." To say they were surprised, would be a big understatement.
I grinned really wide at their reaction. Pete was the first to recover,
and he said, "Well, nobody could afford one, but I know you. What are
you planning?" I said "Smithsonian, and the equivalent on Zander's
world where the GC is." Pete said "Ah Ha! Political. Genius." Tomba
grinned and said, "Naturally." We laughed. I said "I want them to know
about Earth people in a good way. This is a start. Not just that we can
make things like this, and be very generous, too, but we can appreciate
them enough to have it in our own museum, too." Pete said, "And
somebody out there might see it and want one like it, too." I said
"Naturally. Marketing all the way!"
I said to Tomba, "I need you to help with the Smithsonian deal, as my
legal guardian. I want everything to be secret and anonymous about the
arrangement, to the public, except that an artist named Stephen made
and donated it. I want that connection to the one at the GC, to make
this work." He said "I see. An adventure we can have together. I like
that a lot." I hugged him and said, "Me too. I've got the pictures
ready, and some prints. Will you send them from the Temple, to the
curator of gems? And ask them for a meeting to arrange the donation, if
they would like to have it. At the museum. No publicity." He said "I
understand. I'm going to love to see their faces when they see it."
Pete said "Me too, if I can come along." I said "Why not?"
We went early to the Smithsonian, so we could look at the gem
display. I told them I had removed the curse from the Hope Diamond,
when I was looking for psychically active stones in my previous
incarnation. They both grinned. Then we went to the curator's office.
There were other people there, as well, trustees and the director, but
no press. I did the introductions, which surprised them. Tomba said, "I
am Stephen's legal guardian. This is his idea, for something he made."
Pete said "I serve on the board of some of the companies Stephen owns.
I work for him." The curator said to Tomba, "He made this?" Tomba said,
"He did. He is a genius and a prodigy." He said "Does he really want to
donate this?" Tomba said "Please address your questions to the person
who can best answer them." He was confused. I said "He means ME, the
artist, and the current owner of the piece I made." He was still
confused. I said to Tomba, "Lets go see if the Metropolitan in New York
would like to have it. They might have somebody who is smart enough not
to insult people who want to give them something priceless and unique."
Pete said, "Good idea. Let's." We turned to leave, and stopped when one
of the trustees there said, "Wait!" I said to Pete, without turning,
"Didn't say please, did he. One is boorish, and the other is gauche.
What is our National Museum coming to?" The director, a woman said,
"Please come back. We can work this out." So we did. She said "I
apologize for my associates. I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot." I
said with a grin, "More like stepping on toenails. Does the Smithsonian
want it or not?" She said with a smile, "Want would be an
understatement." I said "I can imagine. Do you have any questions?" The
curator said "Where did the stone come from?" I ignored him and kept my
gaze on the director I had been speaking to. She got it, and tried not
to laugh. I let her know I knew and appreciated that.
Pete said to the curator, "Now you know how it feels. Are you ready
to be civil now?" That made him turn red, but he said, "Yes. And I
apologize, Mr. Stephen." I said "That would be 'Doctor', as I have more
PhDs than I know what to do with, and so does Pete here, and my
Guardian Tomba is the Abbot of his Temple, but I just go by Stephen,
which is how I sign my work. I've developed some new prospecting and
mining procedures. I cut that from a stone which was much bigger, which
I found about a kilometer underground at a site I won't disclose. We
own a lot of mines, among other things. Due to the size of the crystal,
I was able to separate the layers perpendicular to the C axis,
relatively easily, and being so thick, that enabled the cabochon to be
made of a single layer, so there were no ringed micro-fractures in the
surface after polishing." He looked a combination of being impressed
and eager to know more, and said, "More layers? Have you finished
them?" I said "One is in a box something like this one. This one is
unworked and waiting for a project." I took it out of my pocket and
passed it to him. While he was staring at it, I said, "These things
aren't very practical for personal jewelry, and I refuse to break them
up. Oh, and all the other materials came from our properties, as well."
He was, well, dumbfounded would be the best word to describe it. He
handed the ruby crystal back to me, in a daze. Then he said, "Why are
you giving this box to us?" I said "Do you think it's nice enough to be
looked at?" He said "Are you crazy? More than that!" I said "Well then,
as an artist, wouldn't I be er, crazy to keep the public from seeing
and enjoying it?" He realized he had said something bad again, and
said, "I'm very sorry. I'm not handling this very well. I'm not used to
meeting with artists, and never imagined I would ever meet one of your
caliber." I said "Thanks. You're improving. If you put it on display,
all I want of ME about it is just my name, Stephen. NOTHING else.
Violating that will void the contract, and it returns to me. I do NOT
want the public bothering me about it. Say everything about it's
previous owner is anonymous, but the name of the artist, and nothing
else about him. You already have the list of materials. What you do
with that is up to you. This is not a loan, but a contracted permanent
donation with stipulations. I own the copyrights to it, though, and
permit pictures of it only for promotion of the museum, for the press
and in catalogs. Deal?" The trustees all said it was. We signed the
already prepared papers, and Pete gave it to them.
While we were getting set to leave, I said, "If I come across
grin, "You ARE improving. Something I almost forgot to mention. I'm
actually interested in carving gems and crystals, and not in making
jewelry or boxes. I've done a lot of that, mostly in synthetics. If
ever you would like any of that, let me know. Let me know if and when
the box goes on display. It was nice meeting all of you. Have a nice
day." We said our goodbyes and left. When we could, we ported to my
office. Then we laughed and hugged and kissed each other. Pete said
"Boorish and gauche! And you got away with it!" I said with a grin,
"Because I was right, and they knew it. I think I'm going to play with
the curator some more, and you can get off on and right foot of that
pretty director. I know you like her!" He poked and tickled me. I said
to Tomba, "I think I'll have less trouble with the museum on Zander's
planet. They won't know I'm a child." He said with a smile, "That won't
keep them from being boorish and gauche, too." I hugged and kissed him.
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Grant
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