by Aer-ki Jyr
“Mild offense taken,” Paul said, still practicing the telepathic control interface. “Not all Archons are the same. We’ve got our newbs too.”
“Maybe that wasn’t a fair metaphor,” Tennisonne said, still on the opposite side of the chamber working his analysis equipment, “but we need more hands. Assistants can only do so much when they don’t understand the underlying physics. I know far more about V’kit’no’sat tech than it looks, I just can’t build it all from scratch fast enough. You’ve got the same problem with the military, I can imagine. Not enough trailblazers to go around leading war fleets?”
“So what do we do about it?” Paul asked him.
Tennisonne sighed. “Nose to the grindstone and work the problem. Like always.”
“At least we’re of the same mind there...what are these other programs?”
“Different applications of the interface. I need you to go through them all.”
“This is getting easy. You might want to go ahead and work up a binary.”
“Have it for you by the end of the week,” Tennisonne promised.
9
November 22, 2410
Solar System
Earth
Paul pushed his complaining quads a bit further, coming to the second to last lap on the training track within the sanctum. His holographic marking ball was getting ahead of him, but he’d managed to keep within a couple meters of it and now he was within half a mile of the finish, nearing a new personal record at the 5k distance and another tick up the speed charts…so long as he didn’t let it slip this lap. He knew he’d have at least a little kick at the end, which meant this lap was the key lap, so he squeezed just a bit more energy out of his legs and aching chest, ignoring what it would do to him on the last lap if he held the effort that long.
The trailblazer knew all he had to do was focus on the pacing marker, but over the next 100 meters it inexplicably inched out even further ahead of him, despite the increase in speed he’d already made…or rather thought he’d made. Coming into the backstretch he accelerated up into a low sprint and ate up a meter of the four he was behind, regretting it instantly as his already aching quads tripled in complaint. He felt his form starting to swim but held the effort, eating up another half meter by the 200 mark and feeling his tank emptying, but if he could only keep it close he’d have a shot at the end.
The next 100 meters was a wash, keeping him 2.5 meters back of the glowing marker running ahead of him. Had it not been for the tracker there was no way he could have hoped to have gone this fast, and it was one of the more important, yet underrated pieces of technology in the sanctum, in that it allowed the Archons and other Star Force personnel to really work themselves into collapse so long as they could stubbornly stay with it.
Paul inched up his effort again once he hit the straightaway, but the marker pulled back out ahead and he crossed the finish line with one lap to go being 3 meters back, at which point he pushed beyond all sanity, knowing with his legs being as wobbly as they were he couldn’t wait for the last 100. With his subconscious mind knowing he wouldn’t have to be retracing his steps again on the 400 meter track, it loosened up what was left of his energy reserves and he began closing in on the marker, eating up a full meter over the next 100 and pulling almost even with 200 to go.
At that point he knew he had it, but he couldn’t mentally relax otherwise he’d fall back a bit. With his steps pounding a bit as his form suffered, he started stepping ahead and through the holographic marker.
When he hit the final straight his form returned just a touch as he stretched out his legs, no longer having to hold the tilt in the turn, and the marker disappeared behind him as he accelerated up into as much of a full sprint as he could manage, gaining another 2 meters of distance on the marker over the final stretch.
Paul coasted to a stop past the finish line, staying on his feet even though his legs were thoroughly gassed and he was feeling the downside of an ambrosia deficiency. He didn’t need to look at the clock, knowing that he’d breached a significant milestone just by beating the marker to the line. The other Archons who’d respectfully cleared out of lane 1 when he passed them by knew he was flying, but they didn’t understand how fast or how far he’d gone until they saw the clock, with jaws dropping in sequence as they worked their way around the track and found his finish time alongside the dozen others still counting on the virtual display board on the inside of the track.
“Damn, Paul,” Addison-673 said as she ran by.
Paul raised a hand to acknowledge her, but was too busy breathing to mouth a reply.
What was your time? another Archon telepathically asked from across the track.
Paul didn’t recognize the ‘voice,’ nor could he tell who the guy was who’d asked out of the group on the backstretch, but he did have the mental signature locked so he sent a quick reply on what he thought of as a ‘tight beam’ transmission.
10:59.22
Where’s that put you?
9th.
And what, a minute ahead of the World Record? Nice work.
Paul didn’t respond, but did see that Mathis-831 was the person on the other end of the telepathic connection as he and a group of four others rounded the turn onto the straightaway in 1x2x2 formation as they chased a much slower moving pacing sphere. His comment about the World Record was a joke, given that it was officially 12:14.83. Star Force personnel had been banned from record setting privileges and professional competition because they wouldn’t comply with anti-doping regulations that had grown to the point where the sports acted as if they owned the athletes…requiring daily testing along with a controlled travel schedule, all in the name of ‘fair play.’
That wasn’t going to fly with the Archons at all, let alone the rest of Star Force. While the corporation had grown to immense size and scope, there were still detractors trying to stick it to them relentlessly and sports had been a familiar avenue of attack. Many of the nutritional enhancements that Star Force used had been labeled as ‘performance enhancing drugs’ and therefore banned, not including the ambrosia, which no one could get their hands on to analyze anyway, though they’d tried by bullying non-Archon Star Force personnel into blood tests to try and see what it was that they were ingesting.
The few times they’d succeeded and caught some of the weaker minded individuals off guard at casual competitions had resulted in Blue Team raids to recover the samples, after which Star Force instituted a ‘no testing’ policy that flew directly in the face of the various sports organizations and tournaments, including the Olympics and System Games.
Paul found it laughable how a bunch of administrative know-nothings sitting on some panel thought they got to decide what substances were ‘fair’ and what were ‘cheating.’ After all, calling something ‘performance enhancing’ was akin to saying ‘duh’ as far as sports were concerned. Enhancing your performance was the point of training, so if there was some supplement you were taking to give your body a boost, how in the galaxy was that cheating?
Cheating was cutting the course or interfering with an opponent, not eating certain foods and boosting levels of chemicals that your body already produced. The drug nazis had existed all the way back when Paul was in high school and unfortunately had only gotten worse, with the officials jerking the athletes’ chains around, telling them what was and wasn’t acceptable to the point of stupidity.
During high school Paul had looked up the definition of ‘drug’ in the dictionary after reading the list of substances that were not permitted in Indiana high school sports, and he was galled to find that it was a joke of a definition.
Drug: A substance that has a physiological effect when ingested or otherwise introduced into the body.
He immediately pointed out the hypocrisy to his coach, saying that included everything, including food, water, and even oxygen. His coach disagreed and gave him a speech full of nonsense, supporting the ban on performance enhancing drugs, with the only bit of coherency in i
t all being the idea of protecting the athletes from overdoses that could kill them.
Paul had followed the rules back then, not wanting to lose his eligibility for competition, but looking back it was painfully obvious that the nonsense definition of a ‘drug’ was simply something the people in control used to exert their influence whenever and wherever they wanted. Gatorade, as Paul had also pointed out to his coach, was a substance ingested with the specific purpose of enhancing your performance…but no, that wasn’t deemed a ‘drug’ despite it fitting the ridiculous definition.
Fortunately, within Star Force they had learned enough about biology to rid themselves of such nonsense. The Knights in particular had been instrumental in that, considering that their size and physiological enhancements were due specifically to a cocktail of V’kit’no’sat drugs that Vermaire had pushed Davis to let him use. Davis, as he’d told Paul at a later date, had been reluctant to do so, but eventually permitted one, then another, and another as the Black Knight successfully showed that they were not only safe, but remarkably beneficial.
After that Star Force’s policy on ‘drugs’ disappeared, as did the term in their dictionary, though it still stuck in the living language. Medical staff used more specific terms, like supplement, additive, chemical, etc while some of the backwards populations on Earth and elsewhere still clung to the nonsense of ‘performance enhancing drugs,’ acting as if they were magic pills that gave you superpowers and thus an unfair advantage.
Knowing something about superpowers, Paul was continually disgusted with occasional news reports coming from the Pro Track circuit on Earth. In truth it had become a bastion of defiance against Star Force, despite the laughable performances, with supporters making it financially viable despite the fact that Star Force’s colonies had a much larger circuit that held superior competition…as well as older individuals. The Earth track circuit, along with many other sports, had instituted a 50 year age limit to competition, deeming that if you were viable after that point it could only be the result of illegal enhancements.
Stupidity, Paul had learned over the centuries, was something you could never completely stamp out. It grew like weeds, and some people, no matter how much you taught them, were always going to be dumber than a box of rocks…and for some reason they liked it that way, which was the real problem.
Star Force had taught the populace so many things that there had been a substantial shift in culture back in the 2100s, with a divide forming between those who held to tradition for tradition’s sake and those who wanted to learn and improve. That rift was still present, but barely a shadow of its former self as new generations were born into a ‘world’ where 200 year old individuals were common and a host of other new things were present in society to combat the stupid traditions. Children grew up processing the reality of the world around them despite the competing influence of traditions…all the while the stupid adults eventually died out.
There was still a sliver that tried to isolate themselves from reality in order to preserve their traditions, and unfortunately Earth’s sports federations had fallen into that category, claiming to be the only bastions of ‘clean’ competition and preaching to those who wanted to find an axe to grind against Star Force.
As such, they’d become sort of a philosophical enemy of the Archons who, if they chose, could have wiped the floor in every sports competition in existence with little effort…and there were many ‘regulars’ within Star Force’s ranks who could do the same, not to mention colonists who’d achieved self-sufficiency and grown to impressive skill levels, of which many competed in Star Force’s sports leagues and tournaments.
On occasion an Archon would step out of a sanctum and into one of the competitions, just to give the public an idea of what they were capable of or to give the dominant players a greater challenge. Most of them relished the challenge of getting to face an Archon, and the viewer numbers for those competitions skyrocketed, far higher than the Olympics or System Games had ever managed.
Paul had only done so twice, both times of which had been running, and like today he hadn’t prepped as he once had back in high school, which normally would have required at least 1 easy or rest day before competition. Archons didn’t take easy days, for they didn’t want to lose their streak of workouts, so Paul’s drops into the public competitions had always carried with them a level of fatigue, as had this 5k attempt. He knew he could go faster rested, but that wasn’t the point…improving was, and the quickest way to improve was to keep the workouts flowing.
He didn’t usually go for a personal record in his runs, so today was a bit of a special challenge. Getting under 11:00 had been his goal, and it was a full 18 second improvement over his previous best. It also pushed his prerequisite score for that piece of his overall level up to ranger 94, but then again he’d always been stronger in running than other areas, and it was the overall completion that tallied their ranks.
Paul walked off the track to clear room for the others and deactivated his time from the display, clearing the space as the others reset to more favorable positions so the active runners could note their progress if they wanted. He got a few other congratulations on his way over to the edge, then he stopped to rest a bit as his legs were thoroughly complaining. That he welcomed, because it would give him another chance to train his Sesspik skill with a long nap, after which he’d head back out for an afternoon training session.
So it was with a happy discomfort that Paul eventually left the track and walked over to the small cafeteria/kitchen in the sanctum and helped himself to a stack of wafers and cookies laden with the ‘performance enhancing drug’ the Archons were infamous for using.
Paul considered that as he ate, recognizing the stupidity of it once again after that remark about beating the World Record. Truth be told, using supplements and chemicals in training was more troublesome than helpful, because the body operated with a delicately controlled internal balance. Injecting additional testosterone, Human growth hormone, or any of the other substances your body already produced would cause an imbalance. Most people, back in the day, had assumed that imbalance would boost your body’s performance…but what it really did was unbalance you, and while you might gain an advantage in one area you’d lose in others, not to mention the advantage gained was usually unstable.
Paul had eventually learned from his own training and discussions with the other Archons, as well as reading the research logs of Wilson and other trainers, that proper supplementation required giving your body what it needed and letting it choose the dosage levels, rather than having some doctor guess as to the proper amounts. If you needed more testosterone, your body would produce more, so give your body the building blocks for the testosterone and let the body build what it needed, in the precise amount, rather than trying to do so ‘manually.’
The ambrosia Paul was busily eating was just that…building blocks for the body to use. The ambrosia itself was fuel, highly compact and refined fuel that the body would happily deconstruct and put to use in other compounds and chemicals it would manufacture internally. Nearly all of Star Force’s supplements, Archon and civilian alike, were based on fuel rather than chemicals, with a few small exceptions, like caffeine. Those supplements would enhance training, and from enhanced training you would gain enhanced ‘performance,’ but if you went with a largely chemical route you’d unbalance yourself to varying degrees, which in the long run would actually cause a decline in performance.
Which was why banning ‘drugs’ was pointless. If they hurt your body’s balance, and therefore caused negative effects, they were a disadvantage…and if in the rare case that didn’t occur, good for you. Improving was the whole point, and if the ‘drugs’ really were helping you to do that then have at it, the faster and stronger a person gets, the better. But what people didn’t see, or maybe they didn’t want to see, was that without proper training, no amount of ‘drugs’ was going to make you fast or strong. All the ‘cheats’ out there were still tra
ining their asses off, and that’s what caused them to improve temporarily…before the imbalance caught up with them and they began to decline.
Greg had pointed that out to the Earth sports federations a century ago at their request, and Paul had been impressed with how eloquently he’d laid out the obvious for them. They hadn’t thought the Archons would respond when invited, and had been somewhat dumbfounded when not only had one come, but a trailblazer at that. Still, despite the fact that billions of people had heard that speech, there was a percentage of them that still refused to accept the fact that ‘drugs’ were a myth, and that if you used chemical enhancement there was nothing wrong with that, so long as you didn’t screw with your internal balance, which was almost impossible to do, meaning the ‘dopers’ were essentially cutting their own throats and killing their longevity.
Greg had also pointed out that such foolish attempts yielded competitive results because Earth’s sports federations had such weak competition. He wisely, and boldly, pointed out that, had the few ‘dopers’ that had been caught in the Earth federations been competing in the Star Force leagues they wouldn’t have been able to win anything, because those who had achieved self-sufficiency and trained themselves up to a high level over the decades were beyond their reach. Doping yourself up with chemicals couldn’t compete with years of training and improvement, so if you had a strong field of competition you wouldn’t have ‘dopers’ succeeding in the first place.
The sports summit he’d been invited to had taken a turn downhill after that speech, which Paul found hilarious. Half of the people present or viewing started to voice their doubts in the ‘traditional’ model of drug regulations after that and the traditionalists nearly had a heart attack dealing with the aftermath…of which saw many of the athletes in the Earth federations switch competitive leagues and come over to the Star Force side, taking their fans with them.
