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Shades Of Submission: Fifty By Fifty Part 122

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I knew I didn't have to worry anymore. Even if the plan failed, even if eventually my mother found us again, I realized it didn't matter as much anymore. When I had ran, I always worried that I would never lead a normal life, never find someone who would love me, let alone put up with my crazy family. Now, I knew I was never going to lead a normal life being married to a billionaire, but I did have someone who loved me, and someone who did everything he could to make sure I was happy. And boy, was I absolutely, completely happy. As the plane flew off towards the sunset, I knew this was my happily ever after.

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Entropy.

Into the aether: Book One.

Arden Aoide.

Chapter One.

Josephine Hildegard wasn't sure if sand could actually be this fine. It had the consistency and softness of baby powder, and nearly the same color. Still, the olfactory hallucination was a little startling. She had no children, so it must have been from when she was very young.

Apparently memories could hide and revisit without any control short of a lobotomy. That was alarming. This was a safe place. And even in this place, she could remember something she hadn't realized she'd forgotten.

But it was the reason she was here. She wanted to find those elusive tendrils of her life that beckoned her when she was asleep. Those memories just beyond her grasp. She knew they must be real. They had no other reason to hide except to protect her.

Because most of her dreams were lies.

She understood that dreaming was unreliable, but she'd always woken with the feeling of unease and confusion. Josephine knew she was adopted, but she was placed with her family when she was a newborn, so she shouldn't yearn for some unnamed impossible thing.

She wouldn't dwell. She wouldn't change the scene. It was exactly how she'd pictured it.

But she would take note of it for the doctors.

Josephine saw the information for the medical trial when reading the news on the aether network. She always looked for positions in Boston that she could qualify for, even though she knew it was impractical. It's not like she lived very far, but she loved the city. n.o.body knew her. n.o.body shared false concern that she was named for a woman who died right after birthing her. There was no pitying looks for the lonely woman who lived alone.

She thought it morbid. She asked her mother, Agatha, why she was named for her biological mother, and was told it was a last request of sorts, and she wanted to respect that. Her new parents thought Josephine Grace suited her, so it was easy to keep it. Agatha didn't have any information on her biological father, nor would she ever disclose Josephine's birthplace for fear of unknown factors. It was always inferred that there was something sinister involved, but Agatha denied knowing anything. She claimed she'd heard horror stories of biological families of the adoptees creating unnecessary strife, but Josephine had never witnessed that. She'd seen plenty of strife among families without adopted children. She tried to find a paper trail, but in the end there was nothing. Her mother took that information to the grave.

Josephine was a woman of simple means. She taught elementary school in a stagnant middle cla.s.s neighborhood in Ipswich, Ma.s.sachusetts, and didn't have a husband or children to keep her company. Not that she cared for either.

Towns like Ipswich were very fortunate. They were close enough to the city to provide for the wealthy when they wanted a weekend away, but too far for the poor to try to make roots. They were prisoners of the city, and slaves to a consumer based economy.

In towns such as Ipswich, it was the same as it had been for hundreds of years. The middle cla.s.s was still on life support, and as long as they still provided beauty, serenity, and history, the rich would continue to flock there on weekends.

An occupation in education allowed her a modic.u.m of pitying respect from the weekenders, though she only disclosed such information when asked which Bed and Breakfast or seaside inn she owned.

Except Josephine had money and a home big enough for a Bed and Breakfast. She wasn't interested in allowing strangers into her home. After her father died, her mother withdrew from the public, and Josephine needed a hobby that didn't involve her staying home. She decided to teach. She would be able to stay close, yet still have a semblance of life.

She enjoyed the weekend market when the choice produce, meats, and dairy were available, and that's how she met a variety of New England's wealthiest. They seemed in awe of the quaintness of these coastal towns.

From Lubec, Maine, all the way down to Rockport, Ma.s.sachusetts, the coast line was full to bursting of Bostonians and New Yorkers who kept the economy from falling under. Some years, it was difficult. Harsh winters kept them away, so summer profits needed saving.

It was Josephine's understanding that it was widespread, and she felt sorry for the small towns across the country that couldn't provide anything for the wealthy. Small manufacturers never lasted, unless bought and gutted by a big city entrepreneur, but even then, the earnings weren't something that would feed and house a family for more than a few years.

The rich provided. It was a benevolent tyranny. But it was tyranny all the same. It was cannibalism, and it was a hole so deep that even those who held the power wouldn't be able to fix it without the collapse of the entire economic infrastructure.

Because when old money and greed went up against affluence and philanthropy, it made for messy elections and pigeon holes that could break a nation apart.

And it had. Nearly three-hundred years ago, Texas had taken its ball and went home in the most severe way. A few other states tried to follow, but had failed, and it devastated their local economies. As far as Josephine understood, there were wastelands of the underprivileged all across their once prosperous country. From the outside, all that was seen was affluent coastal cities and a nation who coveting green.

Josephine taught social studies to third graders, and it took effort to present things as less bleak. Because there was a small chance. If you were smart. If you were savvy. If you had something they wanted. If one of these lucrative corporations had an opening, the compet.i.tion would be improbably steep.

It was a dream for many, but Josephine didn't care. She knew she was fortunate to teach the children of Ipswich. She remained ignorant to the world at large because she didn't want to sentence her students to a life they could never have, nor a life of misery for those children especially sensitive and empathetic to everyone around them. She wasn't a revolutionary simply because she felt she wasn't smart enough. She believed that convictions were nothing if you were ignorant.

Most of the time she enjoyed her mundane life, but the hole of depression was vast and difficult to crawl out of. She missed Agatha. She missed Anton.

Her mother died a year ago, narcotics overdose, and her father died of a malignant brain tumor a decade before when she was fresh out of high school. She had no siblings that she knew of, and sometimes her loneliness crippled her.

She had no one. No one at all. She new her mother would hate it, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her. She called aether and set up an appointment.

The medical trial was ent.i.tled 'The Science of Sleep'. She didn't understand a lot of the terminology, but 'lucid dreaming' was listed as one of the mysteries they wanted to explore.

She had no way of finding anything about who she was, or who her namesake was, but she believed that she had clues hidden and she wanted to find them.

She didn't believe she had actual memories of her biological mother. Even that had to be an impossibility. She wanted to remember the many conversations she overheard when her parents didn't know she was listening. She can remember tones and inflections, but not content. She wanted to hear it as an adult.

Most of all, she wanted to know where she was born, and why she was hidden from her father. She wanted to know more about her biological family, but she didn't necessarily want them in her life. She would be content just knowing they existed.

She was chosen by aether for eight weekend studies. She would receive $10,000. The first weekend was a physical and and all manner of invasive questions, medical and psychological.

They didn't ask her a series of questions about her mental health, but only a single, "Do you or anyone in your family suffer from Depression?" They didn't notice her hesitation, and if they did, they probably a.s.sumed it was because she disclosed that she was adopted.

She didn't know for certain if she was clinically depressed anyway. She wasn't suicidal, but she felt her life was pointless. She was apathetic rather than angry, and she wondered if it was a progression. Certainly, if it was a progression, anger would come right after denial.

She got a call back. She was now into her second weekend, and she was meant to create a detailed, relaxing scenario and a doctor would inject synthetic neurotransmitters into her brain that would encourage lucid dreaming. Stimuli would be added to create different outcomes, all while the dreamer stayed in control.

They also wanted to encourage natural dreaming as well, and study the differences between the two, but the purpose of the trial wasn't shared. Josephine could speculate, but she didn't care. She just hoped she would find the answers she sought.

Chapter Two.

The science of dreams was a bit of an obsession for Dr. Tesla Sorelle, much to his parents dismay. He had a full ride to MIT, and a PhD in Neuroscience, but once he got his degree, he and a few friends had a completely mad idea.

Sure, his parents were fine with Neuroscience. They were even fine with Cognitive Sciences, as three out of five people were on the Autism spectrum, and two out of three people on the spectrum had other varying issues from cognitive to physiological. It was interesting to study. It still wasn't an exact science, but it seemed humans were evolving while bombarded by stimuli on a constant basis.

Tesla believed there was knowledge hidden in dreaming, not that he cared about the content of the dreams, but he cared very much about the why of it.

It fascinated Tesla that the limbic system, which controlled emotions, was fully functional while asleep, yet the rational portion of your brain, the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex, was not. It didn't make any sense.

His parents believed it wasn't important, and they hoped it was merely a hobby. Both were scientists who ran an independent peer review journal, but they had started out as chemists. Medicine had always been very important to them, and they felt their son was delving into pseudoscience.

Tesla was one of the chief researchers at aether Inst.i.tute. It was his job to convince those on the board that he and his team's research would lead to money, but that it would also be groundbreaking.

aether had stock in pharmaceuticals, energy, and technology. They were the company a hundred years ago that made wireless Internet available to everyone, thereby rendering companies who sold Internet access obsolete. Telephone lines became something antiquated as well and wireless phone services were available through the aether.

There was definite backlash, and several lawsuits, but aether rallied the people. The Internet was as necessary as oxygen. n.o.body could ever own the aether, so it seemed unethical to charge for a vast consortium of knowledge. After all, they had satellites all around the planet, rent free. Sure, it cost to build them and to launch them, but they were trying to ignite a new s.p.a.ce race. It failed, but free Internet for all seemed a nice enough consolation, along with changing the world's perceptions on the price of knowledge. Everyone could have a slice of infinity, and with aether, even hard drives became a thing of the past. The aether was everything.

With the Internet free for everyone, companies had to get creative. Entertainment still came with a cost. Domains were free, but there were new businesses cropping up to help ease the way for those putting their livelihoods online. Taxes still applied for income on goods sold, and aggressive taxation became the norm.

aether was a way of life now, and there was no company on the planet that rivaled it. There were opportunities for them to expand and take over the retail of electronics and automobiles, but instead, they shared newer technology to whomever desired it. While it was trademarked, they allowed commercial use, and they enjoyed watching the creativity of those who had taken them up on their offers.

They hoped desperately the States would take up the torch, and reignite their own local economies. aether Inst.i.tute had laid the groundwork, enabling everyone to benefit.

Innovation led to success, and the reason they still prospered was their courage of redefining capitalism. Science was largely ignored hundreds of years ago when the oil companies denied climate change. aether invested very early on for what was then alternative energy. They first invested in refineries, but looking at projections, it would be a foolish venture. Oil would eventually be too cost prohibitive, but they couldn't just take their meager earnings and leave it to the oil companies. aether Inst.i.tute did their research and spoke to the same scientists who were accused of falsifying data, along with peer reviewed studies. Big Oil accused the scientists of trying to make quick cash off the gullibility of the American people, but were promptly reminded of all the different brands of bottled water available, and that it wasn't scientists selling it. They were reverse-osmosing their own water straight from the tap. Top climate scientists explained to Big Oil that at the very heart of it, Capitalism was meant to blur needs and wants, and all they wanted was to bring more efficient energy to the ma.s.ses. aether jumped at the chance, but Big Oil, stubborn as ever, jumped ship to Texas. And while satellite imagery was forbidden by treaty on the Web, it didn't mean that aether didn't have access to it. The country was littered with pump jacks, and there wasn't an ocean view from land that didn't include oil platforms. Many had grown into small living s.p.a.ces there on the water. There were shops and apartment complexes for the rig workers and their families.

The wildlife was all but destroyed, and the States that were east of Texas all built an artificial reef hoping to salvage sea life and wetlands, and it could be seen from s.p.a.ce.

Houston was a veritable ghost town except for oil workers. It was a graveyard of steel and concrete. Port Houston was full of tankers and refineries.

It was difficult to see Houston via satellite some days because of the pollution.

To aether, that was the only proof required. Texas would one day run out of land and ocean, and aether didn't want the States to get close to that point.

aether would remain innovative and generous.

Generosity bought loyalty. The aether network came default on most computers, tablets, and mobile phones. They were particular about ad s.p.a.ce, so only reputable and ethical businesses were sold a s.p.a.ce on the coveted network.

Ethics were very important to aether, and they had an entire department dedicated to making sure their name wouldn't get tarnished by a.s.sociation.

Tesla was able to convince the board with ease. It would be new research. He'd convinced the board that if he were successful, they would lead the way to dream therapy.

Pharmaceuticals brought aether the most money, but this would be such an excogitation, it would revolutionize the country the same way alternative energy had once Big Oil had left.

aether was on board and gave Tesla carte blanche to do what needed to be done. At thirty, his credentials were unmatched.

Past research had indicated several speculations on dreams, from complete randomness that our logical brain at awakening tried to piece together, to evolutionary impulses that help attune our fight or flight response. Nothing had even been slated as definitive.

Tesla and his team created a way to input stimulus through synthetic neurotransmitters which allowed parts of your brain to be susceptible to suggestion while dreaming.

They put out an ad in the aether Portal and were bombarded with applications through their online form. The compensation wasn't specific, but it was an easy way to collect money on the weekend, so many people decided to try for it.

Thinking back, Tesla's vision turned an impossible green at the amount of applications he had to shelve. He had plans to let his team go through it, but they teased him about his various other senses. Since this project was his baby, they were happy to go with the applications he put aside.

Chapter Three.

Josephine remembered her dreams for the rest of the week. Lucid dreaming had been an interesting exercise, and even if she wasn't completely in control, she felt clear upon waking and not at all muddled.

She was meant to keep a detailed diary and email it off to aether every morning.

It was supposed to be a positive side effect, and one she hoped would flourish. She knew it would be the way to get any important information that her brain might have stored away.

One dream in particular was of her father's funeral. Anton Hildegard had a brother and a sister, but they lived in Mexico as far as she knew. She thought she might have cousins, but she wasn't certain. She'd also heard her father speak of his own father, but she imagined he was dead. It was hard to think of her father going before his own father. It was horribly unfair.

"Not today, Ra. His body's not even cold."

Her grandfather didn't come to the funeral, but there were others there she didn't know. In her dream, she saw who she a.s.sumed was her aunt. An older blonde woman. She was accompanied by a handsome blond man that she thought was a creepy uncle who liked to stare at her, but the woman spent a lot of time whispering in his ear. Rather emphatically. Looking at it from the outside, Josephine could see so much more than she hadn't noticed the first time around. Josephine could hear the woman, but she knew that couldn't be true. Maybe she was placing sounds from what she could read of her lips. But, it seemed more probable that she was making it up. She knew there was a mystery, but she didn't want to create more out of nothing.

"Not today, Ray. His body's not even cold."

Josephine was told that these dreams shouldn't be fantastical, but of every day mundane things. She just worried that she wanted information so badly her brain would make up what she wanted to see.

"Not today, Raphe. His body's not even cold."

Her father's death wasn't sudden. The tumor was blasted with a noninvasive laser, but it kept returning. Rapidly. They attempted some older methods of cancer treatments that were utterly barbaric, but the radiation kept the tumor from growing, but it weakened his body so that he wished for death. It was horrible to see him in so much pain.

He never went into remission, but did his best to manage the pain. Josephine was relieved once the pain ended for him. Her mother would never be the same, but her father was free.

Her mother grieved until the day she died. She became addicted to sleeping pills very early on, and she would sleep for what seemed like days.

So much sleep led to pain, and Josephine watched as her mother added opiates along with her sleep aids.

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Shades Of Submission: Fifty By Fifty Part 122 summary

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