<< Previous
Horde Thief
Interlude 3 - All Access
In no other realm that you've visited have the basics of living been so entirely different. To the peoples of the United States, to live without technology is seemingly so utterly backwards that there is a word, and not a good one, for those who try to live without it. Wizards, according to Harry, are forced to live about seventy years in the past where that's concerned, but you appear to be immune to whatever scrambling effect they create. Of everything you've said and done since coming here, that technology doesn't break down around you is apparently noteworthy, identifying your magic as more than merely mortal, something that you aren't entirely sure is inaccurate. The rules of this world, though they allow you still to use the powers of your blood, seem to be odd like that.
Given that the basic standard of living has at least one computer, that alone would have made you interested. When Marcone explained some, though only a fraction, of what this realm has successfully created without a single touch of magic, it was hard not to be a little envious. The Moonchaser and its sisters, the Imperial Mirror network, so many of the things that tie your Imperium together come from magic. And though this world might not have a singular match to the Imperial Fleet, what its' done with purely mortal innovation is no less than spectacular.
Take, for example, the computer in front of you. A simple model, apparently, but well suited to your needs. Marcone had helpfully sent along a small box of books with it, the one at the top memorably titled 'PCs for Dummies'. There are over two billion 'PCs' in this world, one for almost every three humans on the planet. And at least in this nation, they're easily accessible across almost every division of wealth. If you have a home, you have a computer. It isn't actually that simple, but it's the easiest way to put it.
The computer itself had taunted you for most of a day initially, as you'd spent hours pouring over the books that you'd received with it, trying to understand. It's still a little shocking to you that children, who've never used these machines before, could become comfortable with them in bare hours. They were born to it, you have to remind yourself. Though it probably hadn't helped that you'd tried to set a password for your own in High Valyrian…before realising that it didn't have a microphone. And the closest thing to the keyboard that you've learnt to use are the control panels of the Imperial Fleet, yet even those aren't the same.
This humanity iterated the designs from typewriters, purely mechanical innovations that had allowed for the spread of language, news and much more in a printed format. In that, just learning how to interface with the computer system had given you dozen ideas to take home once you found a way to get there. If you're being truthful, the entire process to gain competence in the field of computer use had been a significant factor in how long it had taken you to remove the Fomor from Chicago. There'd just been so much to learn, and you'd not realised then that a great deal of what was in the books, whilst useful, had absolutely no bearing on day-to-day usage.
This was apparently quite the balm when Harry discovered that, not only can you do things with your magic that he could often scarcely keep up with, but that you can use all the technology that he wishes he could as well. You'll have to look into the reasons for his inability to do so though, sometime. Later. Right now you're occupied with waiting for a download to complete.
You wondered early on why computing technology, the miracle that it was, hadn't been taken further. If there was maybe some sort of deliberate restriction to the design process, removing the presence of sentience. It was quite the shock to discover that this humanity, with everything they've done, is still trying to work out how to build life that isn't itself. There isn't as much information on that as you wish there was, and even less that you have the background to actually understand, but even so, the lack makes you wonder. Given the prevalence of supernatural forces in this world, and the power of mortal humanity if it truly acts together, one you know even in your own realm…is there something deeper to their failing?
The download pings, and you shake aside the web of shadowy thoughts with a rueful smile. Paranoia did not become you, or so you'd been told. This world does have a good reply to that, though: it's not paranoia if they are out to get you. But those are thoughts for later. For now, you let the machine run its automatic virus scan, then click the new icon on your screen twice in quick succession. Why you'd been recommended to try a tool called Sage to organise any serious accounting, you still weren't sure. Maybe it was a sign of how important it was to this world?
When you next consciously look up from the screen, light is beginning to creep into the sky above. Your eyes ache, but your sigh is one of contentment, if also a sign of feeling legitimate tiredness for the first time since you've entered this world. The ring you bear still can't remove the need for sleep entirely, regardless of all the attempts to upgrade it. You still have a little time before you'll need to definitely stop, though, and you check the time before reaching for the phone. Instant communication, worldwide, at the push of a button. The implications are staggering.
The phone rings twice before picking up, to a crisp, "Marcone." Apparently seven in the morning isn't an unreasonable hour for him. There's even a touch of humour in the question that follows. "What did you find this time, Viserys?"
"Well, quite a few things," it was true, "but only one that's really important right now. I'm sure you're doing it already, but, I was wondering," you pause, clicking until you find the right 'tab' on the browser. Through it all, John waits, though you can hear the faint sounds of business-like movement at the other end of the line.
"I was wondering," you continue, "if we could set up some predictive investment on the stock market. It just seems a waste to let opportunities like that go to waste."
"I assure you, I have some of the best investment managers alive handling my portfolio," John replies, "though I guess that depends on what you mean by predictive."
"Well," you shrug, realising a moment later that he can't see you. "what would you do with the ability to ask twenty questions about the futures of specific stock options?"
There's a sudden silence, then. "You're serious." Marcone's tone is almost reverent.
"It's money, John." You tell him reprovingly. "Of course I'm serious." The businessman's answer swiftly moves beyond your limited understanding of the world's myriad languages, but you know the tone. You give him the time before continuing. "And I was wanting to buy some more computers for a project, though I'm unsure of the particulars."
It might be a bit difficult, you know, but given the sheer breadth of knowledge available, you can't just pass up the chance. "How many would I need to download the internet?"
