The Book of Command

“You’re... calling off the search?” I echoed emptily back into the telephone receiver. For months I’ve tried to prepare myself in the event those exact words were spoken to me, and considering the wave of emotion I could feel beginning to surge, it is now apparent that I had severely under prepared.

“That’s correct, we’re calling it off. Even with the substantial contingency funds provided by your grandparents estate, we can no longer justify searching for them. It’s coming up on a year now since the cruise ship sank. If we were going to find them it already would have happened by now.”

“I uhh... I... I understand” I eventually stuttered out. “Thank you for letting me know.” I swallowed. Then I paused for a moment. “If the status of the case ever changes, I assume you’ll call to let me know?”

“Someone from our department will. Though, if I am being honest, the chances of that happening are practically non-existent. We will be making an announcement publicly on the 9:00 news tonight. I’m sorry for your loss. I wish you the best of luck moving forward.”

“Thank you, I... I appreciate the sentiment.”

I hung up the phone. Then I just sat there ruminating over the last few minutes for the next few hours.

I knew what would be coming over the course of the next few days. The board of directors for the various corporations my grandparents owned would make movements in court to have them be declared legally dead, so that their assets and therefore power could be distributed as necessary. The new majority holders of their estate would do the same. And as for my own fate? Well, I’ll get to that in a moment.

Under normal circumstances, it requires several years for missing individuals to be declared dead. However in certain circumstances — circumstances similar to that of my grandparents’ — if during the last time a person was seen alive it was observed that they were in “peril,'' well, a person can be declared legally dead within just a few days. In those situations it is assumed that their lives were lost to the variables of their circumstance.

In my grandparents' situation, the only real reason why it had taken so long for a court to declare them deceased in the first place is due to their status in society.

Individually, they were the wealthiest first and second persons in the entire world. Collectively their wealth was even more enormous, fluctuating above and below ten trillion dollars, depending on the global stock market for any given day.

They were both physicists, and in their early years together they had made a discovery in fusion technology which for nearly a century was believed to be impossible: the fusion of elements into heavy precious metals whilst also achieving a positive net energy yield.

Until their discovery, no matter how you did the math or ran the experiment, it was simply just not possible to fuse elements together into an element with more protons than iron and end up with a greater amount of energy than you put into the reaction to begin with. It was considered to be a physical impossibility.

This essentially meant that in the pursuit of producing large amounts of energy for entire countries to utilize, they were able to do so whilst producing precious elements such as platinum, palladium, and gold en-masse as waste products.

The success of my grandparents' efforts seemed to be limitless. They had found many solutions to many of the world's mortal problems. They had accumulated an unimaginable wealth.

They had raised me for my entire existence. They had shaped me into exactly the kind of person they wanted me to be. Which is why I, the only remaining member left of their progeny, was left feeling so confused, betrayed even, upon their decision to leave nothing to me contingent on their passing.

This came to me as no surprise, however. At many periods throughout my life they had reminded me that once they perish, I must find my own way of life. That they would not be leaving me with any form of inheritance. I just never expected that this would happen so soon at the age of sixteen.

Growing up, I was fortunate enough to be granted a form of allowance. I say “a form of allowance” because in normal privileged households, offspring or dependents are generally awarded currency for the completion of household tasks, for their performance in school, or both.

Instead, to earn an allowance they required me to learn and become proficient in certain studies such as physics and calculus; or new languages and disciplines such as Farci and jiu jitsu. They seemed very determined to focus on the development of my sense of integrity and character. With each new skill I learned, I would earn just enough to be able to fund any extracurricular activities that interested me. But if I am being honest, my plate was so full of new things to learn that I didn’t spend much of what I was earning on stuff outside of learning even more things.

“Such a shame,” I sighed, attempting to bring an end to this cycle of internal reflection. “With all I have learned by now, I can only imagine what I would have been able to achieve had they left just a fraction of their wealth behind to me.”

Somehow I had managed to let a few hours slip by unnoticed, missing the chance to watch the segment on the news regarding the cancellation of the search for my grandparents. “I suppose I will get to figure out how I am going to start my own journey within the next few days,” I thought to myself as I turned in for the night.

Those few days were cut short, as was my sleep, due to a phone call from the firm managing the estate at a time considered by many to be “too early” in the morning.

“Jonas, I presume?” The voice on the other end of the line inquired. “Speaking.” I said in reply.

“My name is Margaret Henrie, I am the sitting executor of your grandparents estate. We’ve met before. I am calling to inform you that as of yesterday, we have been given the green light on administering the contents of their will. The will stipulates that in order for the execution to be valid for each individual, they must attend the meeting in person.”

I was intending to attend in person both out of respect for my grandparents as well as a means to help me achieve some sense of closure regarding this whole mess, but alas, I was still quite groggy from being woken so early and consequently grumpy. “Is there even a point of me attending? I already know how this next part is going to end.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Despite what you have been led to believe, there are actually a few items here designated for you to pick up, should you attend. You should also know that if you’re concerned about transportation that a private jet has already been arranged for a two-way flight for each person listed in the will. This includes you as well. Almost everyone else flew into town yesterday as soon as they heard the news.

By this point, she had my attention and now I was recovering rather quickly. We finished the conversation and after what now seems like a blur of the last few hours, soon I was stepping out of the plane, into an escort vehicle, and through the doors of the firm's office building.

“Jonas?” the receptionist asked.

“Yes?”

“Please head to the amphitheater. Our other offices are too small to seat everyone adequately.”

I entered the room. The person at the podium whom I recognized as being the executor was mid-sentence. It appeared they had begun without me, which was fine as I would have felt guilty for making everyone wait. It looks like they were handling matters in the order of arrival, allowing attendees to depart or stay at their own leisure.

“I’ll probably be dead last.” I thought to myself.

At the meeting's end, Margaret motioned for me to “come here.” I approached the stage.

“Your part of the will has been delivered to your plane. The will instructed us to do the transfer “quietly.” Plus, it’s heavy.”

“Oh! Thank you. I uhh... I guess I’ll get to it then. Thank you for your effort in all of this, Margaret. It’s greatly appreciated.”

I boarded the plane to find that a safe had been placed in between the leg space of two chairs that were facing each other. Attached to it by a piece of tape was a large manila envelope, which contained a document with the numbers “6606” on it, followed by a short message: “We hope you’ll understand.”

“Must be the combination to the safe.” I thought to myself.

I entered the numbers into the keypad. The safe opened.

Resting on the floor of the safe there was a quill, ink pot, and a little black book.

I could immediately tell that it was rather old. Not worn, just aged in some way.

I retrieved the book from the safe and turned to the first page. The title “The Book of Command” was on it and appeared to be written by hand.

I turned to the next page. On it seemed to begin a long list of declarations and statements, such as:

1) This is the Book of Command

2) Everything written in the Book of Command, if physically possible, will become true.

3) Only I and those whom I choose are able to see the contents of this book.

4) Only I and those I choose are able to use this book and its power.

I skipped ahead to the next page.

17) No other Book of Command can be created by anyone other than me.

I skipped to the next page again.

31) If a designated user of the Book of Command requires its power yet does not have access to it, they may convert any surface into a page in the Book of Command by first drawing the books sigil upon it.

“What kind of delusional nonsense is...” I turned a few more pages.

The numbering of statements had stopped though the expression of statements continued.

One in particular caught my eye. “When I next open the file named “0001.doc” on my computer it will contain within it all of the information needed to create a fusion reactor capable of generating binding energies at a net gain for elements heavier than iron.”

This was a statement regarding my grandparents discovery. Is this really how they discovered it? By some fluke of desperation did they find a way to literally will all of this into existence?

“No. This is crazy. The universe doesn’t work that way.” I found myself shouting out loud. This is absurd. There has to be some kind of test.

“Duh.” I thought. “Just write something in the book and if it doesn’t work then you’ll know for certain that it is nonsense.”

I wrote the words “The person who has the most Bitcoin in the entire world shall send no less than $20,000 worth to the following wallet address within the next hour.”

An hour seemed appropriate. I was crazy for even entertaining the idea that this was going to work, but I felt like I had to at least give it enough time to have a chance of working.

I sat down in my seat, now waiting for lift off.

It was only just a few moments after sitting down that my Bitcoin wallet had push a notification to my phone.

The notification read “0.45 Bitcoin received.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” I said out loud.

“This changes everything.”