By the end of its existence, homosapien neuroanatomy had constituted around 100 billion neurons. But with the propagation of the repeat expansion gene mutation that created the first element benders, the species to be known as “homoelementum”, that number had increased three-fold.
With the encroaching gift of elemental bending soon encompassing the whole of the world's people, many of humanity’s most stubborn concerns had been swiftly borne away under newfound power and insight. Much of human enterprise, too, had soared to new heights and brightened outcomes. But some things, the most devious and secluded of human ailments and pursuits, had grown still deeper, and far darker.
Homoelementum
Even with bending, it was mostly guess work. And empathy.
Despite years of practice, hundreds of years of pre-bender psychological research by homosapiens, and decades of further scientific advancement conducted by the silicon caste (an ironic twist of fate, he thought: that those so dedicated to imposing computational mechanics upon the human psyche would finally come up with a workable model for consciousness), the task before him was no small feat.
“Ok Jeremy, when you're ready, I want you to close your eyes, and think about what you did yesterday. When you woke up, how you felt, what you ate for breakfast, how it tasted, what you did before you came here. There's no right or wrong answers here, I'm not going to judge anything you share with me; trust me, I've seen it all at this point.”
The tugging sensation of tense muscles in the young man's face revealed skepticism, or was that fear? Even after all this time, there was only so much he could tell from dermal linkage --- and the oaths of his caste, and his practice, forbade neural connectivity or manipulation of any kind without explicit consent. Even though the young man had already completed the mountains of waivers and other paperwork mandated by the Medicus Elementum authority, he had always preferred to wait until the session truly began to initiate the cognitive bond --- a few botched appointments early in his career had taught him the importance of that.
“So, you'll be able to read my thoughts? Like, you'll see everything I see in my head?”
He chuckled: somehow even in this age the notion of “mind reading” had persisted, though he had to admit that his medical practice was far closer to it than any “psychic” of the homosapien age.
“Not quite: when you close your eyes, and remember what happened yesterday, I’m going to initiate a bend, so that when the carbon in your head reacts chemically, the carbon in my head will too.”
“But doesn't that mean you'll know exactly what I'm thinking?”
Again he felt the tension in the young man's face, but also in his abdominal muscles and arms. Not unusual for someone's first session with a neuropath practitioner, but there was something else. Anxiety....skepticism….and yes, there was the fear again. Stronger this time. He couldn't be sure, he had never worked with the young man before, but this pattern of muscle contraction almost always accompanied intense fearfulness in his other patients.
“Think of it this way: when you feel something, I'm going to feel it too, but not exactly as you do --- I'm going to feel it in my own way. The bend is like a map, it connects parts of your brain to the parts of my brain that do the same thing. But there's no way for me to know exactly how to connect those parts, so I have to feel it out --- I have to guess, really.”
The young man's muscles released slightly; good, he thought. But, heat….on the back of his neck…that was odd…
“And the same goes for your thoughts: I'm not you, so I can never know exactly what you're thinking. But I can create a bend between the neurons that constitute your thought patterns, and connect them to what I think will produce the same ideas, more or less, in my head.”
“Do you ever get it wrong? I mean, do you ever connect things the wrong way?”
“Almost always, the first time especially. That's why it's important for us to talk as well. It helps me to adjust the bend to more accurately connect what you're experiencing with what I'm experiencing. It takes time, but the more we work together, the easier it will get”.
Those last words, “the more we work together, the easier it will get”, he had felt the young man's muscles contract like a vice when he spoke them. Not in his face this time, curious --- those had slackened a bit more --- but everywhere else, tightening. Was he trying to hide his response? He tried again to put the young man at ease, but without giving away what he was perceiving through the dermal bend --- patients, especially new ones, tended to by unsettled by their first time having a carbon bender read them in such a way.
“It’s ok to be nervous. I was pretty scared the first time I had a bend therapy session with a neuropath. It was with my professor at school. He was kind of a legend among the carbon caste, and I was terrified of what he was going think of me once he created the bend between us. But when he did, when I knew that someone else was able to truly empathize with what I had gone through… I can't tell you how much of a relief it was. I felt like this huge burden, that I had carried for so long...well, I felt like I wasn't the only one carrying it any more. And little by little, it got better.”
The young man's eyelids lifted --- that he could simply see. Curiosity; much better than fear.
“What happened? I mean, what burden was it?”
“It had to do with my parents. They were both iron benders; I don't think they ever imagined they'd have a carbon bender as a son, and they had a hard time accepting it.”
He let out a small laugh; still a little forced, he noticed, even after all these years.
“I know you’ve had some trouble with your parents too. Don’t worry, Jeremy, I'm not here to pry into your past; I’m not going to ask you to do anything you're uncomfortable with, and if there's anything you don't want me to see, or feel, or share with you, all you have to do is tell me. I'm only here to help you, in whatever way I can. Do you want to give this a try?”
The young man's eyes flitted downwards, then back up again; his head remained still.
“Ok”
He felt the muscle tension start to release, everywhere except the young man's temples. He released the bend forming the dermal link, collecting his focus for the neural connection. A fleeting feeling of, what was that….heat again? Something he couldn't quite describe, but for an instant there had been….well, whatever it was he would know more soon at any rate.
“Alright, Jeremy. I want you to close your eyes, take a deep breath, and let me know when you're ready to start.”
After one last downward flitting of his eyes, the young man's eyelids closed. He drew a deep breath through his nostrils, held it for a brief moment, and exhaled quickly through his mouth.
“Ok, I think I'm ready.”
As the bend began, somewhat disorienting as always, he felt something, small, infinitesimally small: like the edge of a razor --- an almost undetectable spark at the periphery of their now intrinsically linked realities. Something, so bright it would be impossible to miss were it larger, but also dark, abyssal --- like a black hole the size of an atom.
“Alright Jeremy, walk me through your day. What time did you wake up?
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