Shiva's Messenger

Retirement at Twenty Five – Part 2

Government Pension at Twenty Five

Short Fiction of longevity and eternal youth by Russell Twyce

From Part 1

“What does an eternal youth granting philosopher stone look like?” The middle-aged man excitedly inquired. He was suddenly buying into the young man’s story – and he imagined himself as becoming the same.

“Exactly like this.” The man with seeming eternal youth pulled a white stone from his pocket. It was of a pyramid shape with rounded points.

“I suppose you’ll want to be eighteen again.” The government guy’s eyes flicked askance to the ageless man’s 22-year-old sweetheart: if available to him, the 55-year-old with lecherous tendencies would want even younger girls.

“Nah. I’m happy now and my looking even younger would present more problems. I went to a bar recently and was asked to show proof of age. The bouncer noticed the disparity between my eternally youthful looks and my official age. It turned nastier when the doorman called over the police who were patrolling. They wanted to charge me with using false ID but their computers confirmed who I was.”

“That incident landed you on my scope. The cops were not pleased with the outcome, so they furthered the information up the line. And as a fraud investigator, your case landed on my desk.” Then the government official stressed a sentence. “Where on my whim, I can approve or deny the status of your old-age pension.”

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“I see that.” The young pensioner said flatly.

“But I am interested in learning more about your philosopher stone.” The agent lightened the atmosphere with a perky voice. “How does it work? Do you use it continually? Is it fully automatic?”

“When I sleep, I have it nestled somewhere against my body. During the day, I put it in my pocket but I cut a small hole inside the material. The stone functions on enhancing my longevity when it is touching skin.   And there is a mental component too.”

“Mental?”

“You have to spiritually bond with the philosopher’s stone. It is called a philosopher stone and not an eternal youth stone because the real trick is in knowing that the stone will bring eternal youth. Then the stone activates a gate into the quantum universe: more precisely, the stone is that quantum gate.”

“How do you spiritually bond with a philosopher stone?”

“That is as easy as feeling that it is there.” The young man explained. “I reach into the stone with my imagination – for lack of a better word.”

“Eternal youth is a product of your imagination.” Said the investigator in a disillusioned way.

“Quantum space is all about possibility and that is formulated in an imagination. Then with a gate open, quantum space manifests the mind’s possibility into reality. I am youthful beyond my seventy years, and that is my fantasy’s possibility transformed into my physical reality – and your reality too. Because to your eyes, I am twenty-five years old, when all your files show I’m nearly three times that.”

“The commercial prospects of a bona-fide age reversing product would be huge!”

“I have personal reasons for not wanting to do that.” The young man’s statement and the abrupt delivery left no invitation for further discussion.

“Then let’s get back to your pension case.” The middle-aged bureaucrat said aloud. But his mind was exploring what the personal reasons might be. Perhaps with some sleuthing might uncover a past tidbit that could be used to exert leverage. Having a cut on the sale of eternal youth could be worth a vast sum of wealth. All he had now was a cloudy issue of the rather small federal pension – but he could milk it for what he might get from it. “Why should we continue to pay a pension, when you are so obviously capable of being a productive contributor to the national product?”

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“I worked my allotted years and a percentage of my earnings went to pay pensions for those who retired before me. Why should I be required to continue slaving in the anthill, just because physically, the years have been extraordinarily kind to me?”

“Why indeed?” The sly functionary softened his tone in preparation for the ‘hook’. “The federal pension is a universal benefit and revoking it in one instance might be politically sensitive. It would also likely mean public disclosure of your philosopher stone and seemingly, we both need to weigh the desirability of that eventuality.”

“What are you proposing?” The stone’s owner was not as naive as his youthful look suggested.

“If you give me your philosopher’s stone,” again, the slippery government agent glanced lasciviously at the girl in the waiting area, and he subconsciously licked his lips in prurient anticipation, “I’ll deep six this file until I’ve seen the stone in action. Then after I’ve consulted with my superiors, we can discuss the matter further.”

“I’m done with it now anyways.” The young man pushed the pyramid shaped item across the desktop. “You may as well use it. I’ll make another in ten years or so.”

With exaggerated theatrics, the ecstatic bureaucrat stamped the papers with ‘No Further Action’. And the deal was done with a final handshake. The aging agent’s pulse thundered, as his mind’s eye conjured up a bevy of nubile beauties frolicking nakedly in a lavish suite littered with piles of cash. He barely noticed the young looking man rejoin his girlfriend and leaving the building.

“I saw you give him the stone,” the gorgeous young woman said after her boyfriend had told her what happened, “and I observed that dirty old man’s creepy looks. Your giving him a philosopher stone doesn’t seem to match your character. And how can you know that you can even trust him over the long term?”

“He’ll be dead by tomorrow.” The seventy-year-old man in a 25-year-od physique laughed. “Or geriatric and senile as the average 100-year-old person. A philosopher stone acts as a battery that stores age and mine has 45 years worth in it. As soon as the bureaucrat bonds with it, the stone will start unloading – and fast. Nicholas found that out by accident after a supposed friend stole his first stone.”

“You didn’t offer that information.” The girl giggled.

“And he didn’t ask about any possible complications either. Now I’ll be back to flying my longevity underneath the radar and you’re correct about my moral fiber.” As they walked he gave her waist a squeeze. “I wouldn’t turn someone like that loose on an eternal future. Graft-taking government agents like that, their power-hungry political employers, and their greedy corporate sponsors are why I won’t put my philosopher stone onto the general market.”

“Maybe in twenty years,” she returned his hug, “when I’m ready to use a philosopher stone, the world will be ready for everyone to share in the gift of eternal youth.”

“Is it really a gift,” he asked in a wry voice, “or is eternal youth a curse? Flamel has been waiting 700 years in the hope of seeing a society that is worth enduring.”

The End

Author notes: This story is fiction a true philosopher’s stone is possible and that Nicholas Flamel could’ve produced one even with the technology available in the 1300’s.

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