Kyle responded: “You’ll just have to wait and see. I went to the party tonight because I wanted to really give the new program a worthy test. I wanted to see if he… I mean, it… could solve simple problems quickly. And it passed with flying colors. I think it’s almost time to decide whether to take the program public.”
Kyle tried to stay focused on talk of Paul, but his mind was flooded with thoughts of the kiss he had shared with Marshall. What had it all meant? He had wanted to show Marshall just how much he had accomplished in his life. The truth was that Kyle had always been jealous of Marshall. From a young age, Marshall was the star athlete and Kyle was the nerdy recluse who spent his time with his nose in a book and only wanted to talk about science. Kyle had no idea why Marshall wanted to be his friend when they were at school together, but he loved spending time with Marshall. The only thing he couldn’t stand was how everyone treated him, always making him feel like he wasn’t welcome, inviting Marshall to parties and conveniently forgetting to invite Kyle. Kyle tried not to, but he resented Marshall for being so popular. Developing Paul was Kyle’s chance to finally have the upper hand, to finally be the star. When Marshall seemed like he didn’t care, it was infuriating! Kyle had to confront him. But he had no idea that Marshall would end up kissing him!
They reached the large lab where Kyle spent his days working on Paul, and Kyle turned on the light to reveal row upon row of giant black pillars – the processors that allowed Paul to function. Paul was able to function because of an incredibly powerful supercomputer; in order to be able to deal with all of the data at the speed that it could, Paul needed massive amounts of energy and processing power. Luckily, the students at the Academy had large budgets thanks to the generous donations of Graeme Theron, since Paul had cost millions of rands to develop. No wonder only five of the most promising students were chosen for the master’s program each year.
“What is all of this?” Riana asked, scanning the room with her eyes almost jumping from her head. It truly was a sight to behold, and Riana immediately started to inspect the hardware in the room.
“This is Paul. I call it that for short. It’s based on a predictive algorithm for unified latency; P.A.U.L. Basically, it runs calculations based on many hundreds of variables to determine the most likely outcome for a particular series of events. I’ve also developed an artificial intelligence for Paul so that he can keep on learning and improving his algorithm all the time with new variables. He’s learning thousands of things as we speak.”
Riana’s mouth hung open. She had to catch her glasses as they almost slipped off of her nose. “It works? That’s… incredible! What kinds of things can it predict? How far into the future can you see?”
Kyle sat down at the large desk in the center of the room where a monitor asked for login details, and began to type. “Only about a week or two,” he said. “There’s just too many variables if you try and see any further. It would literally take Paul years to calculate a month in advance, and he can only do one calculation at a time so far. But he can predict a lot of things: what people are likely to choose for a snack on any particular day; currency fluctuations based on world events; the likelihood that you will catch a cold. He scans all kinds of public data to make his predictions. I’ve just recently increased his accuracy by including all of the public video streams on the internet. I’ve also linked him to an app on my phone. He’s much more powerful now. Here he is…”
Kyle showed Riana a simple blue interface on the screen, and she pulled the keyboard and mouse away from him, ready to test Paul for herself. “You sound crazy, you know, calling the program you’re working on ‘him.’ It’s spooky.”
Kyle cringed, and turned his eyes to the floor. “I guess I’ve just been spending a lot of time with it. It’s got a voice interface linked to the artificial intelligence, so I talk to it, ask it lots of questions. It can’t respond vocally yet, but I’m working on that.”
Riana sat down on the chair next to Kyle, typing in lots of questions, looking through Kyle’s code, and marveling at the intricacy of what he had developed. “This is out of this world, Kyle. You realize you’ll be very, very rich now. Even if you don’t go public, you can use the program to predict markets. It’s… I’m crazy jealous. All I’ve managed to come up with so far this year is a way to compress data. And here you are changing the world.”
Kyle tried to be encouraging, tapping Riana on her shoulder and saying, “Don’t be silly. Maybe you can help me compress Paul. He’s ridiculously gigantic right now.”
A message popped up on the screen in front of them: I take offense to that comment. I’ll have you know I’ve been on a diet, Kyle.
Riana sat back with her eyes wide, and gave a stifled half-laugh. “It jokes? What?”
“Paul’s learning a lot. I can hardly keep up with him. Every day he adds new elements to his personality software.” Kyle just laughed when he saw that Riana still couldn’t get her jaw off the floor. “Don’t worry, he’s not dangerous or anything!”
Riana turned to Kyle with her face in a heavy frown: “But don’t you see that this is dangerous, Kyle! If this gets in the wrong hands… I can’t even think of the implications!”
“You’re right,” a booming voice from behind Kyle and Riana called out. “This program can be extremely dangerous.” Prof. Greer stood with his hands on his hips staring at the two of them. His expression was stern, anger written in his eyes. “That’s why I asked Mr. Abrahams not to share it with anyone until we could discuss what to do with it.”
Kyle jumped out of his chair in fright, scrambling to his feet. He had betrayed Prof. Greer’s trust only a day after promising not to talk about Paul. It was terrible seeing his mentor’s angry face staring back at him. “I’m sorry, Prof! I… I don’t know what I was… I’m really sorry,” Kyle said.
Prof. Greer didn’t move. His voice was even lower as he said: “I need to speak to you in private, Mr. Abrahams. Can you please ask your colleague to leave?”
Riana took her cue and shyly walked towards the door, giving Kyle a pained wince in apology. Kyle waved at her as she left, and called out in a whispered tone: “We’ll talk about that other thing when I see you again.”
Kyle meekly walked over to where Prof. Greer was standing, feeling like a puppy who had chewed on an expensive shoe. It was embarrassing to disappoint Prof. Greer, and Kyle knew how serious it was to talk about Paul, but he had gotten caught up in the moment and wanted to show off. He would have to face the music.
“What were you thinking, Kyle? This is highly irresponsible! I hope you haven’t told anyone else about our program, or even implied that we might have something like this. You know what the dangers could be.” Prof. Greer’s handsome features were lined with age in a way that only made him more attractive. His striking green eyes and salt-and-pepper hair made him look like a strict father, and Kyle felt like a small child who was being scolded.
“I’m really sorry Prof. I promise I haven’t shown anyone else what Paul can do,” Kyle lied. “Riana is just helping me to think of ways we can make Paul more efficient and to compress him a bit.” Kyle was happy for the brainwave of an excuse, and hoped that Prof. Greer would buy it.
“Even so, Kyle, you’re not to tell anyone about it. This has been my life’s work, and I need to make sure that we deal with it in the right way. I’ve spent years thinking about what this could mean. I trusted you to help me work on it. Please don’t make me regret that decision.”
Kyle sheepishly nodded at Prof. Greer, feeling like he wanted to crawl up into a ball and disappear. Prof. Greer dismissed Kyle, going back to his office, and Kyle walked out of the building chastising himself. He waved goodbye to the janitor and swiped his card on the reader to let himself out of the building. In the chilly night air Kyle was instantly ripped back to the moment with Marshall, standing outside of the Meyers twins’ house, getting unnecessarily angry at Marshall over ancient grudges. Kyle remembered the feeling of Marshall’s body again
st his, the taste of his lips. Something was awakened inside of him. Marshall was the only person who wasn’t impressed with Paul. Maybe Marshall was right when he said that there were things about him that Kyle could never predict. Kyle longed to see Marshall again. Maybe the rugby championship final would be a good excuse for the two of them to ‘run into’ each other again…
Chapter 6
Marshall felt the heat of the sun beating down on his naked torso. He stumbled as he grabbed the rugby ball that Reinhardt had thrown with force and precision. “Great catch!” Reinhardt called out, and Marshall smiled. He bit his lip as he propelled the ball back towards Reinhardt, the veiny muscles on his arms straining as he pushed the ball through the air. Reinhardt’s eyes narrowed to focus on the ball coming towards him, and he flicked his blond hair out of his eyes as his own shirtless chest was tensed in anticipation of catching the ball. He intercepted it and turned sideways to absorb the force with which the ball came towards him, his tanned biceps enfolding it.
Marshall jogged around the freshly cut grass of his backyard, his eyes trained on his friend, ready for Reinhardt to throw the ball again. Marshall and Reinhardt often spent sunny days practicing their throws at Marshall’s house, and Marshall’s father would give them pointers about their form whenever he was able to be around. “We have to be on our A-game if we’re going to beat the UCT boys in the final, right?” Marshall called back to Reinhardt, beads of sweat forming on his well-defined chest.
“Right,” Reinhardt said, flashing a smile at Marshall. “Need to keep you on your toes, captain. How else are you going to carry us to victory in another championship?”
Marshall’s father, Lionel, walked out onto the patio carrying a tray with a pitcher of ice cold lemonade and two tall glasses. Lionel shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight with his hand, and called out: “Time for a break, boys! Come and get some lemonade.” He gestured for Reinhardt and Marshall to come to the patio, and went back inside the house, leaving the tray on the patio table.
Marshall walked over to the table and sat down in a huff on one of the metal patio chairs, feeling the exertion of the practice catch up to him. Reinhardt sat across from Marshall, pouring them each a glass of lemonade. Reinhardt took a big sip of his drink, and said, “I think those extra lifting sessions are really working out for you. You’re looking stronger than ever. Coach has you on a tough schedule, eh?”
“Tell me about it,” Marshall said, shaking his head slightly. “If you think Coach Barker is bad, my dad is ten times worse. After every match he has a whole list of pointers for me. It’s exhausting.”
“He just wants the best for you,” Reinhardt responded, sitting back in his chair. The muscles of his large shoulders were bulging as he lifted the glass of lemonade to his lips, and his body was sweaty from the afternoon’s practice. “I wish my dad cared as much as yours does. Lionel knows so much about rugby. You’re lucky to have someone who loves the game as much as your dad.”
Marshall looked away. He put his elbow on the table and rested his face in the palm of his hand. “It just gets annoying sometimes. Sometimes, I think that he wishes he could take my place on the field. He just won’t stop with the constant criticism. I feel like…” Marshall hesitated. He looked into Reinhardt’s blue eyes, wondering if he could try again to say what was truly on his mind. “Do you ever feel… unsatisfied? Like you’re not really being yourself? Like the little box that people put you into, all of the things that everyone expects you to do and to be, isn’t really who you are?” Marshall kept his eyes on Reinhardt, trying to read the small changes in his expression for any sign that he understood what Marshall was talking about. The last time Marshall had tried talking to him, Reinhardt had seemed completely oblivious. But Marshall needed someone to talk to, and if he couldn’t confide in his best friend, who else could he turn to?
“Of course I feel unsatisfied!” Reinhardt said, his voice rising. “But we’re almost at the finals! We have a real shot of beating UCT this year. We’ll be satisfied then, right?”
Marshall could see that, once again, Reinhardt wasn’t getting it at all, and he felt frustrated. He turned his eyes back towards the garden, taking in the lush green, and thoughts of sprinting on the rugby pitch went through his mind.
Reinhardt bit his lip, clearly realizing that Marshall wasn’t happy, but seeming uncertain of what to say. All Reinhardt seemed to care about was rugby. All anyone in Marshall’s life seemed to care about was making sure that he stayed focused on rugby. Reinhardt reached across the table, touching Marshall’s arm, and said: “Listen, Marshall, you know how much I respect you. If there’s something you need to talk about, you can tell me anything. I only want the best for you. That’s all I’ve wanted since I met you on our first day of tryouts for the Ridgemont team, when I saw your skill, how your body moved on that field… You’re not just my friend, you’re an inspiration to me.” There was intensity in Reinhardt’s eyes, and Marshall softened towards the friend who had been loyal to him for over a year. For all of his naiveté, Reinhardt had good intentions. The way that Reinhardt touched Marshall’s arm, the look in his eyes… it was clear that Reinhardt’s feelings for Marshall were developing.
Marshall was suddenly shocked back to reality by his father’s voice: “You two look very comfortable over here.” Lionel stood in the doorway staring at the two boys as Reinhardt still had his hand on Marshall’s arm. Reinhardt and Marshall looked like deers caught in headlights as they stared back at Lionel. Reinhardt suddenly became embarrassed and pulled his arm away, but Lionel’s face broke into a smile and he said: “I’m just kidding, boys. Don’t be so nervous around me. I’m glad to see the two of you getting closer. Nothing makes a father happier than to see his child find someone who shares his interests.”
“Dad!” Marshall called out, a burst of embarrassment shooting through his body. “We’re just friends, okay! Don’t embarrass us.” Marshall was mortified, which only made Lionel laugh harder.
Lionel said: “Nonsense! I have eyes! I can see what’s happening right in front of me.”
Marshall wanted to melt into the ground. He looked over at Reinhardt, who seemed to be slightly uncomfortable but still laughed at Lionel’s playfulness. Marshall said: “Enough, dad! You’ll make it so that Reinhardt never comes to visit us again.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll stop immediately,” Lionel laughed. “It makes me too happy to have Reinhardt around. Can I get you boys anything else?”
Reinhardt shook his head, trying to force a smile despite his obvious discomfort. “No thanks, sir. The lemonade is delicious.” Reinhardt stood up, pulling on the t-shirt that he had hung over the back of his chair, and said, “I just need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” Reinhardt went inside, wincing at Marshall as he went, and Marshall returned his gesture. Lionel sat down with Marshall at the table and poured himself a glass of lemonade as well in the glass that he had brought with him.
Marshall took a sip of his drink, and said to his father, “You don’t have to embarrass us every time Reinhardt comes over, dad. He’s just a friend, nothing more.”
Lionel cocked his head, his grey hair and large nose giving him the look of an owl, and he said, “He certainly doesn’t seem to think that. He clearly likes you, Marshall. Frankly, you could do a lot worse. And he’s such a good rugby player. I just want to see you with a boy who treats you well and is respectable.”
Marshall sighed. Lionel really did care about him, but Marshall found it annoying when Lionel interfered in his life. “I just don’t feel that way about him, dad. We’re much better as friends. I don’t think he really understands me. Not the way I want a boyfriend to understand me.”
Lionel smiled, pride beaming from his eyes. “You’ve made me so happy as a father, Marshall. You’ve exceeded anything I could have ever hoped for in a son. I just want you to have a good life. I want you to have everything you could wish for, and not let anything slip away from you. Don’t make the same mistakes
that I did. Don’t lose your grip on the things that matter most.” Lionel sat back in his chair, giving a deep, forlorn sigh. “I remember how I felt when I realized I wouldn’t be able to have a professional rugby career. After the injury that took everything away from me. I know how cruel life can be, and how everything can be ripped away from you in a second. Everything you worked for. I just want to make sure that you can live the life that I never got a chance to live. When I see you playing rugby, I just know… I can see that it’s your destiny to be great, son. The talent you have, it’s more than I ever had. I want you to live that dream.”
Marshall felt the urge to blurt out all of the angry thoughts swimming in his head, simmering below the surface. What if it wasn’t Marshall’s dream that his father was pushing him towards? What if he wanted something else? He bit his tongue.
***
That evening, Marshall went to the one place where he could just be himself for a change. He sat on the roof of the Academy for Experimental Science and Technology, one of the tallest buildings at Ridgemont University, where Marshall could see the entire campus and the wine lands in the distance over the beautiful Ridgemont Valley. The fire escape on the side of the building led straight up to the roof, and Marshall had found a shady nook in one of the corners of the deck to just be by himself whenever he needed to. At night, lights along the railings on the roof made it the perfect place to enjoy peace and quiet and stare up at the stars.
Rewriting Destiny Page 4
