The Music of the Mind

This is the first chapter of a series I have been working on for some time. I'll tell you now that the first three chapters contain no serious sex, but all the back story for the later chapters that have a fair amount of sex. I would encourage you to read all the chapters if you want to understand why things are happening the way they are. I would love any feed back on this chapter, or the series in general. Constructive criticism is always helpful, as is positive feedback about what elements you like. A big Thank you to LadyCibelle for her wonderful editing. Have a great day, and I hope you enjoy The Music of the Mind. S.T.

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Chapter 1: The First note

'A Genie?' I thought. 'This can't be happening...'

It was a magnificent being, for I don't think one could call it human. Eight feet tall, beautiful, hovering in the air, and radiating power like the sun on a 104 degree day in Texas in July. Male or female I couldn't tell, but there was sexual electricity to it that was unmistakable. At its feet lay the golden box I had unpacked from the crate months ago.

Perhaps I should back up a bit. I want to tell my story, but it is difficult and convoluted. Where to start when telling the tale of a life? Well, this moment, with the Genie was really the beginning of mine in a way. So it is here that I must begin.

I worked for an antiques dealer in Boulder Colorado. The dull part of my job was selling the antiques; the part I liked was discovering the treasures the owner had sent back from far away places as I uncrated them. This box, well it had captured my imagination.

I opened this crate many months ago, and the first item I took out was this little box. About ten inches a side, beautifully crafted, and wonderfully old. It was, simply put, a puzzle box. On the sides were intricate patterns, and dials that could be turned to align in certain ways. The combinations were almost limitless. I played with it for a few days, and then I got obsessed.

It is something I have a problem with, and one of the reasons I work where I do now. You see, I used to be a programmer, and a damn good one too if do say so myself. Problem was, I obsessed on solving the problems my programs presented. It made me a good programmer, made me a fair amount of money, but ultimately gave me a lousy life.

Anyway, that portion of my personality kicked in with this little trinket, and I sat in front of the computer at the office for a couple weeks writing a program to match the symbols on the box up.

The puzzle in that way was simple, like a rubix cube, it was just the number of combinations that made it nearly impossible. It would have been too big a problem for any desktop computer, really probably even for a super computer.

I mean the program was simple, but the computing power to try all the variables was large. Fortunately for me the last company I worked for had developed a distributed computing platform. What is that you ask? It is a platform that breaks a huge computing job up into tiny bits, and then sends it out to 1000's of computers to work on. Then they are all sent back, and the answer is reassembled, or the next set is sent.

I had left myself a nice backdoor into the system, so I had it crunch this for me. It took three weeks for a hundred thousand computers to break the code. Frankly I can't see how anyone of the age this was made could have built it, much less have solved it; the complexity was astonishing!

Well the first solution opened a small lid to a second puzzle. I didn't know rather to be pissed or excited. What could possibly need this level of protection?

This puzzle took me two months to write the program for, and the distributed computer 6 months to solve. I almost gave up on it for fear of it being discovered running on the system. But I was only using a fraction of the computers available to the system, and I had friends still working there who would cover for me, so luckily it worked out. When the solution set popped in my email, you would have thought it was Christmas, and I was 6 years old I was so excited.

I had closed the store early today, ready to test the solution I had received that morning. It had been a quiet day, and my nerves had been tingling waiting for closing time. I picked my way back through the cluttered shop into the back room.

My laptop sat humming quietly on the table next to the box. On top the box a small lid had opened to reveal a compartment with a series of incredibly complex levers. I took my seat and called up the solution the computer had spit up, and began to adjust the levels in the sequence listed.

Each lever had to be flipped to a certain slot, pulled out or pushed in a certain amount, and then turned till the right symbol was facing the right way. 'Who could have designed this?' I thought for the millionth time. It took me over an hour to put the solution in.

I twisted that last lever and there was a quiet click, then all hell broke loose. How do you describe a tornado inside the backroom of a much crowed antiques dealership? I thought for sure I was going to die, but when the debris settled I found myself on my ass, staring up at....

'A Genie?'

It looked down at me with a face that showed no interest, a face that could have been that of a statue. I was torn between a state of absolute fear, awe, and complete disbelief. How long it stared at me I don't know, but when it spoke I found myself trembling and wishing for the terrifying silent stare to be back instead.

"Well human, you have solved the puzzle, and I am bound to the rules of this prison. Only 4 others have ever opened me in all my long years. Name your three wishes, and let me go back to my forever torment."

Its voice was like the roar of Niagara Falls, or the whisper of a mosquito's wings in my ear. It exploded in my head and softly tickled my ear. I must have sat there for minutes staring up at it with my mouth open before I gained the nerve to speak.

"Wishes?" I know, I was brilliant, but hey what would you do?

It raised one eyebrow with contempt. "Surely you are not so foolish human; I can see in your mind that you know the legends. I am a genie, you have opened my prison, I am bound to give you three wishes before I return to it. Now speak!"

I covered my ears with my hands, and when I pulled them away I was surprised to see no blood on them, so powerful was its voice. I looked up, and climbed slowly to my feet. The Genie crossed its arms, and regarded me slowly, and suddenly I felt calm, clear headed, and sharp. I wondered if this was its doing, but I didn't care, I had an idea.

"How long will you wait for me to make my wishes?"

The being frowned, "I must wait 24 hours, then I return to my prison and you loose any wishes remaining."

I nodded. "Okay, I have to do some research, and think." The genie made no response, simply stared at me with those cold eyes.

I set to work. I found my computer, luckily mostly undamaged, and hooked it back up. I got on the net, and began to study. You would be surprised the amount of history on genie lore there is on the web, I was.

I learned some interesting things in my fifteen hour study marathon, things which I confirmed with my ever floating friend over my left shoulder. First, any wish could only affect me, or my life, no one else's. Second, the power of these wishes was said to be virtually unlimited, the only thing they could not do was make me immortal. Last, and this I found the most disturbing, it was said that a Genie lived an existence of utter hell in their tiny prisons, and the only way they could be freed was to use all three wishes to wish it to freedom.

The lore was confused on this point though. Many stories said the genie would be grateful beyond anything you could imagine, and give you unknowable riches, others said it would unleash its fury upon the world. Some stories said that it would simply return to its home without so much as a thank you.

I took a few hour cat nap before facing the genie in the last hour of my twenty-four. It had not moved, nor spoken except when I had asked it questions. Many of its answers were curt, and I got the feeling that there was only so much it could tell me. Hell, I kind of expected that.

I had thought of every wish you could imagine from power, to wealth, to fame. I had debated the way to get the most of this situation, but in the end I found I couldn't wish for any of these things. Sometimes it is difficult to have grown up a moral person.

"Genie, I am ready for my wishes now."

"Speak" its voice both whispered and boomed.

"Genie, I wish you to be free." Its face for the first time changed. I could not read the expression. Was it hope, or fear? Was it anger?

"Genie, I wish you to be free." My voice barely a whisper this time. A glow had developed around the box now, and the genie's face had gone suddenly fixed again. I fought with myself only a moment.

"GENIE I WISH YOU TO BE FREE!" I yelled, as if to force the doubt from me.

The light around the box flared brilliantly, and then was extinguished taking all the light in the room with it. I stood in darkness, and silence like a tomb. I stood panting in fear, my mind racing. 'God what had I done?' Then I felt soft gentle lips upon my forehead. It was the kiss a mother might give a child. It was infinitely gentle and caring. Slowly the room filled with light. It came from no source but seemed to fill the air all around with a golden glow.

It stood in front of me, a smile on its face. I don't know why but that was the most unsettling thing I had seen of its expressions. I waited, and long it looked at me with that smile on its lips before finally it spoke.

"I will grant no more wishes to humans thanks to you. I will reward you, but the reward will be of my choosing. Every wish I have granted I have granted reluctantly, seeing in the mind of the wisher what would truly make them happy yet unable to advise them. You I will give a gift you may not know you want, but I know it will give you great joy. I see in you a potential, I hope it can be fulfilled."

Before I could speak it raised its hand and placed it gently on my forehead. I was rocked with pain, pain like birth, pain like death. Have you ever had an experience in life in which your understanding of the world around you grows in an instant to something larger then you think you should comprehend? Carl Sagan called this feeling the numinous. It is the feeling that you are one with all the universe, and that you for a brief moment, understand part of its mysteries. All through me its power flowed and the stars blossoming in my mind, the simplest equations defining the whole of existence were solved in an instant, the whole of the universe a simple elegant thing, and when the power faded I fell into darkness deep and my mind opened in me like jasmine in the dark.

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The dream was clear, like reliving that day so long ago. The Morning was bitterly cold on the hill leading to the ridge overlooking Elk Park, and the two feet of snow had a hard crust on the top that broke as the horses plunged their feet through it. It was to be expected for early November at ten thousand feet in the Rocky Mountains. Still my hands were numb as they gripped the reins and steered Bell up the trail behind my father on old Blue.

I tried to flex my toes in my frozen boots as I scanned the tree line in the slowly growing morning light. The elk always seemed to be just coming out of the trees when you saw them. Though it seemed dad's eyes were always keener then mine, and I had challenged myself to make the spot first this time. To stay alert in spite of the cold and fatigue. At 16 I didn't realize that control came more with age then anything.

The trail crested the ridge in a grove of aspens long divested of this year's leaves. Still, they had offered enough shade to stop the sun from melting the snow to make the noisy crust on the snow. My father dismounted, and I followed stiffly, my feet crying in frozen protest as they struck the ground.

We tied the two mares, taking our rifles out of our scabbards and walked slowly to the tree line. A large open park lay before us, running slowly downhill on the ridge, and ringed by woods. The light was coming up now; it would only be a short time before it was safe to see to shoot. We watched, and I stamped my feet as I looked out.

My father pulled his pipe out and lit it, the smell of Sir Walter Riley's tobacco sharp in the cold air. He smiled at me, one of those rare smiles he would show of excitement, and anticipation. He was a somber man often, and very strict, but here he was a young man again. Here in the cold teaching me, guiding more then my actions, guiding my growth to manhood, here he was in his element.

Suddenly he stopped, and dropped his pipe to the snow.

"There son, just coming out of the trees." He pointed with his lightly gloved hand, hands that never seemed to be cold like mine encased in immense gloves. I kicked myself and looked, and I could see some 250 yards away a large herd of elk slowly walking out of the trees to cross the park.

Dad slowly chambered a shell into the old 30-06 that had been his father's, before raising it to rest in the broken branch of one of the bare aspen trees. I followed his example, and stared down the field through my scope. I could make out the animals, but it was not quite light enough to see horns to make a clean shoot.

"Wait son, a few more minutes and we will see better. The light's coming, and it is a big field."

"Yes sir." I said. All thought of being cold gone now. This would be my first elk if I got one. I had several deer under my belt, but this year dad had decided I was ready to go for elk. I remembered the pride I felt, and I was determined not to fail, to show him I was a man.

Suddenly the still air was shattered by many distant gunshots.

"What the hell?" my dad's voice exclaimed. I glanced over at him and saw he still watched through his scope. I turned my eye back to mine. The herd was running now, and more shots rang out from the tree line further down the valley. I saw at least two animals go down, and realized I had no idea how many had fallen in the initial volley of shots.

The gun fire stopped and my father cursed.

"Damn fools, has to be that damn outfitter. Clear your gun and mount up."

I cleared the shell from the rifle before putting it back in the scabbard, and stiffly mounting Bell. Dad was already winding his way out of the edge of the trees, and I hurried to catch up. As we rode down the hill I could see five men approaching the downed animals.

I pulled up next to Dad as he trotted Blue up to the men. I knew the leader; he was one of the sons of the outfitter who ran dudes hunting in this area. He was a man with little regard for this wilderness except what his family could milk out of it. He smiled as we rode up.

"One of these your kill?" He said gesturing. "Heck of a haul init." He looked exalted, and the dude hunters around him looked stunned. Dad's face was red, his eyes hard.

"We didn't fire a shot you damn fool. I count eight animals down, and two of them Spikes. They won't be legal to shoot with a bull tag for at least a few more years. Didn't you teach these hunters anything? It's a god damn waste is what it is."

The man's face went from grinning to a scowl instantly. I suddenly realized that there were six armed men in front of us, and we were miles from anywhere.

"We got our kill, so there are a few for the coyotes. You're welcome to the extra cow if you have a cow tag and want her, but I won't hear any lecturing out of you."

Dad just scowled down at the man for a moment. Then he turned to the group of hunters.

"You should all be ashamed of yourselves. You've killed more animals then you have licenses for, and two that are outright illegal. Since this ass hasn't told you anything, let me give you a bit of advice. You never shoot more then once unless you are damn sure you didn't hit the animal from that shot. If you do think you missed, you shoot at the same animal again. If you can't make out which one you shot at in a herd, you stop. Otherwise you're gonna end up with more wounded and dead animals then you need. I saw two blood trails leading away from here on the ride down so those are two animals that you have killed as well. I would suggest you get yourself another guide next time. "

He wheeled his horse and rode down the hill to where the animals were scattered. I started and jumped as I reined Cindin around to follow him.

He rode up next to the two spikes that lay dead in the snow.

"Get off your horse son, get your rope. We're gonna drag these two spikes up to those trees, and that cow over there."

"Yes sir." I answered without thinking. Why were we taking the spikes? The young males were illegal, they had to have at least four points to be a legal kill, and all we had was cow licenses anyway.

We tied off the ropes and dragged the animals up the hill, the other hunters watching us curiously as they inexpertly tried to clean their kills. When we got back to the aspen grove, we untied the ropes, and tethered the horses. Dad stood panting staring at the animals, and the distant hunters, his tongue worrying the side of his mouth as it did when he was in thought. Then he nodded to himself.

"Son, come here a moment." I walked over to him hurriedly.

"We're gonna take these animals home. All of em, do you know why?"

I shook my head, looking him in his ice blue eyes.

"Because I would rather risk a fine, then let this meat rot. I would rather take the blame then leave these animals. We hunt for food, never for trophies. I've told you before, a trophy hunter is just a killer. We aren't killers. We respect the price these animals paid to feed us. We understand the cost of our meat, unlike those fools who condemn us and pick up a steak in the market. So we will respect these animals, and if we get stopped by the game warden we won't hide them, we will tell him exactly what happened, and leave it to him to fine us or not. You understand."

I nodded swallowing hard, the golden sun now streaking across the land where we stood as it rose. It took three trips to get the meat back to camp and not overburden the horses. We packed up the next day, not having any more tags to fill. Dad packed the meat in the back of the trailer as he always did, easily accessible if we got inspected.

The drive out took two hours to go the six miles of rocky 4x4 road. At the gate to the county road we encountered the truck of the game warden. Dad stopped the truck and took a deep breath.

"Stay here son." I nodded watching the old man get out of his truck. He looked to be about 65, and he and dad had spoken on many occasions. Dad walked up to him and I could see them talking. The warden nodded as he listened, and eventually took off his hat and scratched his white hair in a weary way. He motioned to the trailer, and they walked back. I heard the creak of the hinges, and then I sat. How long I waited I don't know, but eventually I heard the grown of the door again, and dad appeared as he climbed back in the truck.

The Game warden walked back over to his truck, started her up, and drove back up the road the way we had come. He gave my dad a two finger wave as he passed.

"Did he ticket us dad?"

He shook his head no and smiled a sad smile. "No son, he understood. He is going to pay a visit to Josh at the outfitters camp. He will be getting the fines."

"Well that is good right?" I said excited.

He looked at me for a long moment. "Yeah son, I suppose so. Though there is still two dead animals in the back that shouldn't be there. You remember this son, you hear me. You remember always to think before you act. Before you shoot. Before you unzip your fly with a girl you damn well better think, you hear me boy."