All rules regarding the team, how they worked, and what was allowed, was under Rab’s control. And things were quite relaxed, as long as the work got done—it did. Tons of coding needed to be completed—more than most companies could output in a decade.
Jodi, while not the fastest coder was Rab’s top pick when it came to algorithms that needed a creative touch. In a crunch, when things got really deep, she dug in and found the solution. She loved to sit legs crossed on the grass looking toward the ocean. She got a piles of work done outside. Occasionally she would smoke a bowl while coding; many times surprising Rab with some uniquely creative ways of getting the job done. This, was perfectly fine. In moderation it boosted creative output significantly; with the tasks Rab entrusted his team to complete, creativity was the first requirement.
The bar had alcohol but most didn’t delve during the work hours; no one on the team was much of a drinker anyway. Working late, staying overnight, even camping out was fine. Idea parties were common. Rab picked his team carefully, most joined the weekly celebration under the stars; a brainstorming party with plenty of cannabis and magic mushrooms helped to unleash curiosity and free trapped ideas. Sitting around a campfire on the top of the word, surrounded by intelligent minds; after many a night great inventions were concocted by the team. But, Rab made sure to keep their river of thoughts focused on the task at hand, focused on prolifically tackling the projects he constantly challenged them with.
As a major part of his proposal to the board, Rab declared to work unheard of hours in the custom-made space, with little breaks; and did he ever. Since Day 1, much of what interested him resided in the virtual world, with a plenitude of ones and zeros, to include also: both and neither, all and some, etcetera all the way down the rabbit hole—into the unexplainable world of his own uninterpretable forging. But working constantly sent other aspects of his life to extremes. He had one other uncontrollable urge and his unbalanced life forced it to emerge like a tidal wave: the allure of a beautiful woman—his number one distraction. No matter how smart, how determined, his instincts could break down walls. He thought about this as a curse many times but came to embrace his animal side. FUCK IT! he thought bluntly, and allowed himself to exploit human carnal desire from time to time. After an escapade, a binge—enhanced focus—stronger, better, faster, and again with definition, a reason for his determination. He loved the beautiful Latinas and Mexican girls, with their heavy accents and golden bronze skin, but all women elicited his desires. His best friend Jon helped him quite a bit in this area, his matchmaker in a sense. Months in he’d come to develop a habit—but he was smart enough to know it would only be temporary. A side-effect of his insane schedule: occasionally, but not lately, they’d sneak out to hit the clubs downtown; but as he continued to get deeper and deeper into the project Jon simply brought up a special friend after his own night about the town. And that would be that.
Number 2. Rab’s request list included the need to develop something—again at any cost—for his own use or any other coder on his team that wanted it. Days past he would consume large amounts of energy drinks or pop pills and take other stimulants in order to continue on for long periods. He found that it was inevitably hurting his progress. He learned that the crashes, mood swings, and poor health could quickly destroy a project from the inside out. Depression, lack of sunlight, poor diet, no exercise, especially lack of sex; he knew it would only slow him down. And he knew from Day 1, with the sheer mind-boggling amount of coding that needed to be done, a total approach was necessary. So, in regards to doing everything that could boost work flow, a solution was concocted. There was no dire need to make it safe for mass public consumption, with piles of money anything could be developed, even if it was only going to be used by one or a few people then possibly discarded later.
“But can you get it done?” Rab asked the two while leaning back in Nancy’s chair; she stood aside him. The board members had mostly stayed quiet but a few couldn’t help themselves to interrupt, inquire, and assure their own selves a little during the course of the discussion.
“Yes, we can sir,” Dan Casteel, head lab technician of JR Pharmaceuticals replied. “It would to take us about—6 months to get it ready for human trials.”
“What will it take in order to have it completed and ready to use in say—6 weeks?”
“6 weeks, I—I’m sorry but—” Dan’s boss Evan, CEO of the company coughed. “It’s just that—”
“How about a billion dollars?” Both Dan and Evan looked at each other perplexed. Dan’s eyes rolled up in thought while everyone waited. The room was silent—then Dan nodded to Evan. “Great, here’s some data for it,” Rab said after picking up on Dan’s acknowledgment. He stood up while grabbing another file. “Dan it’s not exactly my field of expertise but I think you’ll find this very useful. And you can pick up your check on your way out.” Tired of the back and forth indecisiveness Rab hustled Evan and Dan out of the board room with an arm around each of their shoulders; most of the board members—all completely nude and wearing sombreros (in Rab’s mind)—watched in awe, shaking their heads or propping them up in dismay. The power of money at work, they all knew it well.
He closed the door after the two left bewildered and half stumbling. “Yes,” Rab said turning to the seemingly doubtful board members. “It was absolutely necessary.” Then he left as well, once again slamming the door.
The solution was created on time but came with an added price: addiction. However, Rab could live with this, just as he’d noted to Dan, and so could anyone else who wanted the potent edge. The result, a two pill solution, arrived on time. A small fast dissolving red and white capsule started the effect right away and primed the system to accept the second pill. A solid brown pellet half the size of a large thumb enhanced and continued the effect for many hours; Rab looked at it every time and thought, horse-pills. It almost hurt to swallow. But, it worked.
And that’s just what you get with a rush-job he thought, asinine fuck-ups, no common sense to make it into several smaller pills. But Dan told him it would work best like that—like a big rock in the stomach, dissolving slowly; it would last for sixteen to twenty hours.
With the substantial boost of focus and alertness, Rab coded the months away wide awake. Others tried it, yet occasionally; he used it daily. He named the pill combination Pro-Con to remind himself that it was to be a temporary solution, that everything had its pros and cons. His expectations were to use it as purposed, and then with sheer will, break the addiction and quit when the time came.
In the race to develop something that would change mankind forever, VlexCom demanded the gold cup at any expense. Other companies were close, making slow and steady progress. But to win this one, an edge was needed and that edge came in any form Rab wanted. Who would argue with him now—it was all part of the deal, and the deal had been unanimously agreed upon.
The tips of his fingers were red and sore from incessant typing, his throat dry from dictating even more code. He was a superhero, flying through a world of code.
Number 3. Bluntly, almost terribly so, but he had to state it as straightforward as he could spit it out; it was the only way to make it as clear as crystal. He told everyone flat out how he lived: his way, his schedule, his time, every second of it. Rab wanted to be left alone. He needed control over every aspect of his abnormal routine and how things were to be run. Yes, he was viewed as out-of-control by some, a freak of nature as perceived by others. But the board members weren’t entirely stupid; they liked his passion, especially his confidence.
“I need total control,” Rab said, “over all aspects of the project from Day 1 until completion. I DO NOT want to be bothered with trivialities and questions. The top floor is mine, as well as everything in it. And don’t fucking hound me with, Is it almost ready? Is it done yet? And no progress reports. I don’t have time for that and cannot have distractions. Sometimes I’ll be awake all night, sometimes I’ll sleep all day, and sometimes I might
have company over. Leave me the fuck alone, and as promised you will get what you want.”
12. Sleep Routine
The truth was—he almost never slept, at least not much since Day 1. Rab discovered years ago a special sleeping routine that would allow him to feel awake and refreshed for twenty hours a day, sometimes more. He’d learned it when developing algorithms for one of his most successful inventions. And he’d found out that even Edison himself had experimented with it, with moderate success. But he was prepared to take it to the limit, and mix it with his own technology. It was a type of polyphasic sleep routine and it was something that had lodged itself into the back of his mind, waiting for the perfect time to leap out.
“I’ll need this now—it’s time,” Rab said talking to himself in the lab. “I’ll combine it with the Insta. And with the Pro-Con, it’ll be perfect.”
It was called the Uberman sleep schedule and would supposedly allow a person to take several small naps instead of one long night of sleep. Rab tweaked it with his own personal touch. He started off slow but eventually reached the point where he was sleeping for less than 3 hours every 24 hour period. It worked. He coded on.
Sometimes, even during the sleep of his short naps he would continue to code, while experiencing a lucid dream (awake during the REM state). Special ingredients in the Pro-Con solution inadvertently assisted his ability to attain lucidity while inside a dream—in spectacular ways. And although they were short he experienced vivid, colorful, and seemingly long-lasting dreams. They were also breaks; a much needed escape from the lab. Inside the lucid dream he could fly out of his window, to Tijuana or up the coast. He could go into space and sit in silence on the moon, with no air and no sound—just far-out peace and quiet, to the top of Mt. Everest, or deep into hell to fuck with the devil and his demonic sluts. Sometimes, he’d release pent-up steam with a TV bashing session; anything was possible. The dreams were so real many times he had a hard time continuing to realize that it was only a dream, often losing his lucidity. And the dreams distorted time, giving him the conducive impression he had more rest than that of a mere twenty minute nap. He always woke feeling refreshed.
The Insta kicked in—calm, still, sleep—and the dream began.
Arriving at the club... “Welcome sir, no cover for you, of course,” the usual doorman said, dressed in a tuxedo. “Ah, Mexico again,” he said to himself. Rab descended the paint-peeling cement steps into darkness, the pounding of the music got louder and he grooved with it. He turned immediately into the DJ booth and grabbed the mic. “Ladies stay, the rest of you take a hike, except you DJ—” He motioned over his shoulder. “—and bartenders, you can stay, join me ladies, you know what to do.” The female crowd went wild. The music blared and the fog machines exhaled. Hot, sexy, and dancing, mostly Latin girls, were now totally nude except for high heels. They tossed their clothes everywhere. He always made them put the heels back on. His dream, his rules. The DJ played a roll of tunes, then joined Rab on the dance floor; the bartenders too. The beats pulsed through his body activating every sense. He raised his arms as the naked women danced around him with wide toothy smiles; their long flowing hair flying in all directions, sliding against tan bare skin. The bartenders brought beer and started passing them out. The clothing had begun to pile up. Now, there were too many clothes on the floor, dancing became difficult, it had become a bed. And more ladies kept coming, tossing their clothes and diving into the bed. They plunged deep inside, burying themselves within the coziness, some disappearing completely. The colorful strobes began to rain waves of light and the music distorted, slowing down and speeding up randomly. Numbers, letters, and symbols sparkled, falling with the light. He reached for a nude leg that protruded from the blankets, but when he touched it realized it was no longer real, no longer attached to a beautiful body. Once plump with dozens of naked women—the clothing imploded, losing its soft curves. Rab knelt and began to swat the thick mess of clothes aside. “Ladies, where’d you go,” he yelled. But there wasn’t even a floor beneath the pile, only a dark hole. Empty clothes and high heels began to fall inward from the edges. Behind him the DJ laughed, the bartenders held up their beers—and they kicked him in. Falling, together with symbols and code, laughing men above peering down, surrounded by the perfumed panties, dresses, and bras, falling, darker, darker, into nothingness. All was silent. He was no longer falling, just there, yet nowhere. An infinite point, but not powerless. Just the opposite, and he felt it. He knew exactly where he was once again. Everything was clear—possibility, in any direction. No longer was there any such thing as the time, or the physical dimensions, only one thing remained—choice. Decision.
He burst through the hole of nothingness into the sky, slashing the bright blue, out into space, all the way until light itself stretched past him, faster and faster, until it all meshed together, and got infinitely bright.
He awoke of clear mind, and resumed work.
Rab perfected his sleeping schedule at only two months in. It allowed him to work like the AI he strove to create; although, it relied heavily on another piece of technology developed by the company that was released early in 2018. The device made the company billions within the first year. The InstaRest—he simply referred to it as the Insta—was a flat twelve-inch circular pad that could be placed under any pillow. It was programmed to work for one user, for the life of the device—for security reasons, yet it also worked out well for monetary purposes—and included a smart phone app to control the settings. Upon its pressure-sensitive activation the pad emitted sounds, delta waves not audible to the human ear, and in conjunction with a small magnetic field, all operating in sync with a proprietary rhythm, most users would be sound asleep within ten to fifteen seconds. It also had a reverse mode that allowed users to wake quietly at any desired time; no more alarm clocks. It was portable, could be rolled up for traveling, simple to use, and the batteries lasted, just about forever.
The pad’s surprise release intentionally and completely disrupted the entire market for sleeping pills and other resting aids. Within months hundreds of companies around the world filed for bankruptcy. Productivity on the entire planet soared, all because of the InstaRest. No one had an excuse for not getting enough sleep, not anymore. The pad sold in such high quantity the factories had a hard time keeping up with global demand. Noticeable worldwide statistics revealing elevated productivity pointed fingers directly toward VlexCom and there was a single person behind the technology. Rab was awarded the Nobel Prize later that same year. The invention of instant sleep technology had helped to change the world.
13. Interruption
“Rab?” Nancy knocked, but didn’t receive an answer. Auburn bobbed hair, always a white button shirt, and the tightest skirt she could squeeze into; she always dressed the same. Most didn’t notice her clothes; her figure could put an hourglass to shame. She was the company CEO, recently appointed, and she needed to talk to Rab before heading over to Jon. She knocked again, nothing, but she could hear him inside tapping on something, and the knob did turn. She finally barged into the lab file in hand with her extremely important question.
“Ooh,” Nancy squeaked and her hand half covered her mouth.
The tall Latina moved one leg even higher; from the chair all the way up onto his desk—her panties clung to her ankle, dangling. The banging was loud on the inside, and it was hot like the AC had been turned off. She was clobbering Rab’s touch panel and pressing her face against a vertical screen for balance. The screen lit up in different sections, flashing with each clamor. The system backup was reliable—Rab designed it himself. So, he didn’t give a fuck, as he continued on doing did just that. Their eyes met, Nancy stood frozen-stiff, staring. He rotated himself for a better position; a better view for his new audience. Maybe she’ll finally get the hint, he thought grinning.
Her sweaty face stuck to the screen, the tall one reached with her eyes; only one could get a glimpse, the other got flashes of blinding light from flashing erro
r notifications. She knew someone was there, but it wasn’t worth it to move, not now, not an inch. No, not right before…
Nancy Nichols—again… Her chalk-white skin flushed tomato red, fire-bombing her cheeks, but this time she didn’t back away so quickly. Something held her frozen for a moment; perhaps their locked gaze, Rab’s lingering stare and carefree smile. It was an odd twenty seconds. He was wearing a colorful sombrero and trying his best not to laugh, or ruin the coming moment. Bare-assed, cut-off shorts cuffing his feet, not doing a good job of hiding his skinny ankles, with his long-sleeved shirt wide open, he continued his motions. Awkward, just like last time, but laughable nonetheless. Nancy released a sigh from a pressed smile while downing her brow then set a file on the floor before finally backing out.
The girl had brought it to him the huge hat as a gift. They often did. He had canteens, flasks, blankets, fake Rolex watches, shirts, teddy-bears, and necklaces; his favorite gifts however, weren’t tangible. Lupita—the six-foot ear fetish girl—was a regular, snuck in as usual by Jon who’d met her at the club.
As the door closed Lupita further elevated her bronze moon making Rab reach for it. Beyond his limit but he managed, stiffening tight. Both clenched each other hard. Lupita was the tallest girl he’d ever been with; she’d offered to ditch the heels to help, but Rab insisted. He made her keep them on.
Nancy folded her back onto the wall. She raised her shoulders a little and straightened her arms at her sides, hands to the wall. She looked about the grand room then composed herself. A hitch-pitched scream followed by a howling moan penetrated the door and she heard it clearly, as did everyone else. The sound caught the attention of the team at the round table and they turned noticing, included Jon who’d been peeking over his office wall; they tried to hold in their laughs—unsuccessfully. She hastily headed toward the elevators with the brightest blushing cheeks; she’d glanced a thermonuclear blast. As usual, the elevator took a good minute to arrive. She didn’t dare turn back.
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