The Immortal Order

The Immortal Order

A new guy started working in our office. He came in early, and was shown what he would be doing exactly, and where his desk was. I sat in the desk next to him, and I would get to know him well over time. His name was Jim, and he seemed to be in his mid 40s. He sported a mildly receding hair line of close-cropped black hair and he was just about 5 feet 6 inches tall, making him 4 inches shorter than me. I was almost 40 myself, and we both had a mildly protruding gut that made our shirts tight around the belly, although his shirt was clearly more expensive and tailored to fit. He had a harsher face, a very weathered face which had seen many years of outside exposure, which surprised me since he seemed quite in-tune with computers, and most other people in our office, including me, were more of a pasty white with more softer looking faces as a result of sitting indoors on our computers most of our lives. It almost seemed like Jim even had some light scars on his hands and across his cheek. It was obvious that he did much more strenuous outdoor activities than the majority of the rest of the office. What was most striking though were his eyes. Although Jim only looked to be around 45 years old, his eyes spoke of wisdom far beyond his age, as if they had already seen more hardships, trials, love, and happiness than I would see in my entire lifetime.

I was similar to him with my belly, although slightly taller. My white, unweathered skin and face was a sharp contrast to his harsher features. I had slightly longer, brown, greasy hair that extended just past my ears, with a part going down the center. A pencil mustache ran under my nose with stubbles around my chin. I had been working in this company for a few years now, and I was pretty good at it. The pay was good, and I lived in a nice location by myself not far from work. I did tend to get sick fairly often, as I was just one of those that were prone to getting sick very often, but I couldn’t complain too much.

Jim had a few questions for me the first few days, and I willingly answered. Although his, and my, work entailed parsing complicated sets of data and compiling the result in elaborate excel documents, he caught on really quick. We would then send the excels to our clients who would use the data and try to optimize their businesses in some fashion or another. Jim and I got along really well and quickly bonded, which was great, because while I had some friends, I had failed to make any really close friends ever since moving here almost a decade ago. It didn’t bother me too much though, and I wasn’t too bitter about it, although I did tend to get lonely.

I would typically spend evenings working on programs that I was coding in my free time. I would sometimes go out to dinner and/or drinks with co-workers and occasionally go out to a live music show. When I could, I would fly back to my hometown to see my parents and my best friend from growing up. I seemed to be always sick with something, and my mother always tried to show me some new herbal supplement I should try whenever I did go back home, but it never helped.

Even in Jim’s first days, I had a bit of a headache accompanied with a running nose. Upon a query from Jim, I quickly brushed his question aside mentioning that it was just spring allergies, and that I tended to get sick easily. He seemed curious, but focused on his work instead of pressing the issue.

As time went on, him and I got to be pretty good friends. We would go out with other co-workers, but him and I would also occasionally go out to bars together, and once summer rolled around, we decided that we would go camping and escape from the city.

We were camping in the woods a few hours out of the city. Just Jim, I, the wilderness, a fire and some beers. Jim knew that I had a sensitivity to Wi-Fi waves, and it always gave me a steady headache in cities because there were routers everywhere. Being away from it all, in nature, was a much welcome relief. When I mentioned that my head felt so much better away from the city and routers, Jim almost seemed to smirk a little. It made me a little frustrated that he might not be taking me seriously, but I let it slide. We continued to chat and drink the afternoon away until it was getting close to dinner time.

Jim had brought some cans of soup that we emptied into a pot and heated up in the fire. We sat next to each other in silence, eating the recently heated soup, sipping on our beers and gazing into the fire. It was dark already, and the crackling of the fire was the only thing breaking the silence between us as we took in nature, away from the hustle and bustle of city life. I was particularly happy to be in the wilderness because there was no Wi-Fi where we were camping. It wasn’t that I wanted to get away from society and go off the grid, but I actually had Wi-Fi sensitivity and always seemed to have a headache around Wi-Fi waves, and the Wi-Fi-free wilderness was a welcome relief. It seemed that nobody took me seriously when I told them that, but I had taken it upon myself to ensure that my desk at the office was as far from the router as possible. Jim seemed to take it well enough and would always turn off the Wi-Fi if we ever ended up at his place, which always helped my headache recede.

After finishing out soup, Jim decided to strike up another conversation while looking up from the fire to gaze to the heavens.
“It sure is nice to get out of the city and see all of these hidden stars” Jim ventured.
“It sure is.” I replied.
“And how is your head feeling?”
“Pretty good now that I am out of the city.”
I was pretty sure I saw him smirk, but it could have just been the fire casting suspicious shadows across his face. My suspicions were justified when he tried to explain to me that it didn’t make a difference.
“You know that your Wi-Fi sensitivity is all in your head right? It happens, because you think it will happen” He tried to explain.
There had been many people who have claimed that I was making things up and being melodramatic, and his attitude to my condition was rapidly souring my mood. “You’re just not taking my issues seriously, I really do have issues with stuff like that and it really does give me headaches” I snapped.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, again just staring into the fire, listening to its crackle break the silence. I finished my beer, but I didn’t feel like getting up to grab another one. After a prolonged silence, Jim finally broached another conversation by simply stating, “I will prove it to you.” I simply shifted my gaze and stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t immediately say anything though, just continued to sit there, contemplating.
“How are you feeling now? Health-wise I mean?” he inquired.
“Fine. Like I said, it’s nice being out of the city.”
“You also have an allergy to broccoli, if I recall correctly? It usually causes you to have troubles breathing?”
“Yes” I coolly answered.
He slowly but deliberately got up and went over to our trash bag and retrieved one of the cans of soup. He came back to me and handed it to me so that the ingredients were facing me. I shifted it in my hands so the firelight would allow me to read it, and it was then that I noticed that we had not eaten cream soup with peas, which is what Jim told me we were eating, but cream of broccoli soup, with broccoli being the 5th ingredient. I did now realize that I had been having minor breathing issues, and it infuriated me that Jim would intentionally give me food that I was allergic too. “Are you trying to kill me?!” I wheezed at him. I could already feel me throat getting tighter.

“Stop it” he commanded with a stern look. I was angry, but his conviction cut me short. “You were not having any issues before, it was only once you realized that you had eaten broccoli that you started to get sick, but you were fine for almost an hour before that. It is the same thing when you come to my house, and I claim that I turn off the Wi-Fi for you. I don’t, but you always believe that I do because I say so, and then you never have headaches. The same is happening now, and your belief that you are allergic to broccoli is causing your body to react that way, but you don’t have an issue with broccoli or Wi-Fi, or a multitude of other things that you believe you have!” I was kind of in awe of him after this outburst. He was usually calm and reserved, but his scolding me made me speechless, although having a constricted throat also prevented me from talking too much. I simply continue to glare at him in awe for a few minutes. I tried to wheeze out a protest, but he cut me short as he approached me, leaned over so his face was mere inches from mine and grabbed the can from me. “And if you want even more proof” he said to me in a manner a parent would say when scoldingly educating a child, “look at the label along the can. We did in fact eat cream soup of peas; I bought both types of cans and switched the labels, which is why you can see the slight cut along the label with tape on it. You never even ate broccoli tonight!” He was correct of course, and it was obvious that the label had been replaced. It was almost terrifying with him talking down to me, as the fire only illuminated half of his face, casting the other half in a darkness.

Quite a few emotions were going through me. I was angry at him for not believing that I had some medical conditions, and even more angry at him for tricking me. There was a trickling of doubt in the back of my mind though; what if he was right? It wasn’t until I thought he had actually fed me broccoli that I started to get a tight throat, which felt more dry than anything at this point as the tightness was waning.

“The point is” Jim continued, “The human mind is a powerful thing, and it can do wonders and terrors to your body. If you believe that you are sick all of the time, then your body will ensure that you are in fact sick all of the time. You need to start believing in yourself, in more ways than that, but ensuring your mind is treating your body right is a start.”
“But I really do get sick…” I was fumbling just to even say the words. I almost felt stupid at this point.
“Yes, you do get sick. I never claimed that your throat wasn’t tight or that you didn’t ever get headaches. I am telling you that the symptoms are real, but the cause isn’t what you think it is, it’s this” he explained as he tapped the side of my head. “It happens to a lot of people. People think someone near them has something contagious, like a cold, or some rash, and they may very well develop the same symptoms, although the cold or rash may not have been contagious. It’s called hysterical contagion. The human mind is powerful like that, and you don’t even need to “get” it from other people, if there are other factors you believe are making you sick, you can exhibit the symptoms. You need to stop dwelling about your ill-health, and focus on how healthy you actually are.”

I moved to stand up, and his face, which had been uncomfortably close to mine during the entire exchange since he was leaning over, retreated as he also stood up fully. There was a wave of relief as his piercing eyes could no longer stare deep into mine. I walked over to the cooler and grabbed another beer before returning to my seat. Jim silently watched me the entire way up until I heavily sat down, silently opened my beer and resumed staring into the fire. I was at a loss for words and didn’t feel like talking much at all anymore for the night.

Jim walked over to the cooler after another few moments of observing me. He did the same as I and grabbed a beer and also sat down to look at the fire. The rest of the night was mostly wordless. Occasionally some small talk about the stars or fire, but I didn’t feel like discussing what was previously discussed, and Jim didn’t press the issue further. We eventually retired to our tents and went to sleep. The next day was mostly quiet again as we packed our camp and went back to our homes.

Jim didn’t broach the subject again the next day at work, and didn’t for quite a while. We were still on good terms, and I just let his outbreak pass as some mildly drunken tirade. But ever since then… ever since that night… things were different. It was subtle, but something clicked. I didn’t get sick as often, and my headaches had receded back to non-detectable levels. I started to grow suspicious that Jim may have been right all along. Not only did it seem ridiculous, but pride was also preventing me from bringing it up with him again. I didn’t have to though because a few months afterwards, Jim nonchalantly mentioned it to me at my desk at work one evening.
“You have been taking a noticeably lower amount of sick days lately” he said to me as he sat on the corner of my desk with his arms crossed.
“Yeah, other co-workers have also mentioned that they have been seeing more of me in the office lately too.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.
“I want to teach you how to control these things. How to fully control how your mind affects your body.” which he followed up with a subtle wink.
“Why?”
“Because you’re a good guy, and the world needs more good people.”
I nervously chuckled, “Are you some hippy or something?”
“You should be part of human development.” he said with a more serious look on his face.
I was confused. “But I am.. I am a part of the human race… I don’t understand exactly what you’re getting at.”
“Come to my place Friday evening. I will explain more there.”
“OK, I will come by after work on Friday then.” Jim just smiled and stood up before walking away from my desk, leaving me confused. I was left confused for the next few days of work, which saw barely any productivity from me as I kept mulling over the implications of what he had said to me.

Friday evening eventually came, and I got in my car and went to Jim’s place. He greeted me at the door and invited me in. I went into the living room where I took a seat on the couch. I sat there waiting for him as he went into the other room. After a minute he came in, carrying a chair which he placed in front of me. Jim sat in the chair, and then with a smirk asked me, “So is my Wi-Fi on or off?”
“I… don’t really know to be honest” I quietly mumbled. It was hard to keep eye contact with his gaze, so I diverted my vision to the entry way where he had previously walked in from.
“Exactly. I think you know I was right, and you are coming to terms with controlling your sicknesses. Don’t get me wrong, there are real diseases and viruses that will make you sick, but I have gotten to know you fairly well over the past couple years that we have worked together, and a lot of what gets you sick is just your mind believing that you’re sick.”
“Yea, OK, I get it.” It was hard not to get defensive and snappy. He did make a good point, but it is still hard hearing someone basically tell you that you have been acting sick the majority of your life. After a few awkward moments, my gaze slowly crept back to Jim’s waiting eyes. “My mom used to make sure that I always washed my hands so that I wouldn’t get sick” I began. “I suppose that I may have never really shed that, and I have always been a bit paranoid about getting sick.”
“It happens to the best of us” he said as he lightly slapped my knee. The move startled me. “I used to get sick quite a bit myself until someone came to me and basically told me what I am telling you know. He helped me become more positive with my thoughts which helped me take control of my life and my health.”
The rest of the evening was spent with him explaining how much my mind was in control of my body, and how to really stop getting sick solely because I was thinking that I would get sick.

Another few months went by and I had failed to get sick once. It was incredible. I felt better than I ever have, and other than a couple times I legitimately caught a cold since it was in the middle of winter at this point, I was fine. It carried over into more aspects of my life, and being positive helped me be more confident about other aspects of my life as well. Interactions with co-workers went better, people took me more seriously, and I seemed to actually have a girl occasionally flirt with me when Jim and I would go to a bar together.

One evening when Jim and I were hanging out at his house watching TV and drinking beer, Jim confessed how old he really was.
“Do you remember a while ago when I told you that someone had taught me how much power the mind has over the body?” Jim asked me while nothing interesting was happening on the show we were watching.
“Umm, I think so. Why?”
“Well, this person who enlightened me, he did it almost 300 years ago.” His face was serious as he looked at me.
“Sooo… you’re saying that you more than 300 years old?” I said while mildly laughing. The thought was ridiculous.
“Yes” was his simple, but powerful response. I wanted to believe it was the alcohol talking at first, but last time I rashly assumed that, he had changed my life by making me come to terms with how much my mind could affect my body, and he had a similar look in his eyes as last time. I knew better than to doubt the things he said, but what he was saying wasn’t possible.
“But you don’t look older than 50 at the most” I pointed out with furrowed brow.
Jim casually turned off the TV with the remote before turning to look at me again. “Like I said last time, when you were getting sick a lot, it was because you were accepting it as the reality. There are still things out of our control, like getting crushed in a car crash or catching a really terrible disease, but what if I told you that people only age because we also simply accept it as an inevitability?”
I was again speechless, barely able to utter anything more than a simply “Uhh…” Jim told me to wait a moment before going into another room. He returned with a small fireproof safe and a key. He opened said safe to reveal the contents. In it was dozens of pictures so old one could label them as antiques. Without a word, he started slowly thumbing through the pictures. They were pictures of a man who looked to be in his mid 40s. He had a mildly receding hairline of black hair. He was about 5 and a half feet tall and had a harsh face, although not quite as weathered as the face of the man sitting before me. The man in the pictures was also slightly skinnier than the Jim I knew, but there was no mistaking it; I was looking at pictures of Jim that appeared to be almost 100 years old.

Jim seemed to relish in the puzzled look on my face. “While it is true that evolutionarily, most things are born and then die, that cycle isn’t necessary. Since it happens to pretty much every animal since ever, it has always been simply incorporated in the cycle of life, but we can break away from it!” he was getting visibly excited about the information he was divulging with me.
“I just don’t see how that can be possible… you could have just photoshopped pictures to look like this” I offered.
“True, but think about it. You have already visibly aged in the few years we have known each other. The lines around your mouth and on your forehead have deepened, and other minor differences. Do I look any different to you than the day when I first started working at your office with you?”
It was true. He had in fact not aged at all. It was too crazy, too surreal, but I couldn’t find anything against what he was saying. He again spent the rest of the day teaching me how to even further control my body, teaching me how powerful the human mind actually is.

Many more months would pass in which Jim and I regularly met up, and he trained me on how to hone my thoughts and fully take control of my bodies health. He always stressed that I wasn’t becoming immortal, and a real sickness or an accident would still kill me, but by keeping my mind from making my body sick, I could prevent a lot of my hysterical illnesses, and from grounding my beliefs in the fact that I didn’t need to age, I wouldn’t age anymore. It was hard to take it all in, but I actually did believe him after a while. It’s not something to really easily notice since aging itself is a slow process, but I started taking photos of my face and documenting how I aged, and I did realize that I really didn’t seem to develop any major differences.

After almost 4 years of knowing each other, Jim was chatting with me in a bar. He explained that he had to constantly create new personas, new bank accounts and getting new IDs. Otherwise, it would be suspicious that someone who was supposed to be extremely old only looked 45 or so years old. He told me how I would have to start doing the same and that I would need to cycle new lives every 10 or 15 years, lest people start noticing that I wasn’t ever getting older. That is why Jim started working in our company, he had left the previous life and was now here. That also explained why he seemed terribly knowledgeable about so many things: he had had literally hundreds of years of knowledge and experience. That also explained why his face and skin seemed to touched by time.

Another few years went by and other than the fact that I was virtually never sick and didn’t age, life continued on as usual until Jim approached me after work one day with a specific request.
“Hows it going?” he inquired.
“Not bad, I was just about to go home and relax.”
“Very good. I wanted to just let you know that our time is about up here. I am sure you have even noticed how people have developed over the past half a decade although we haven’t.”
That was something I knew was coming, but I still wasn’t prepared when he did say it. “Already?” I simply asked.
“I’m afraid so. But it’s not all that bad, every end marks a new beginning. I think we should both give our notices. We should then fly to England.”
“England? Why?”
“Like I mentioned, someone else taught me on how to control my mind and not age, and he was not the first either. There are many of us, and we all try and meet up every 10th year during the summer solstice in England.”
“I see…”
“And you’re now one of us now. An enlightened one if you will.”
“Don’t make it sound like you got me sucked into a cult ” I nervously laughed.
He laughed as well. “It’s no cult, and you don’t have to come, but we just like to meet up every decade. See who else has been shown the power that their minds have over their bodies. It’s about time we left anyways, so you should come.”

I decided to go, and after another couple of months, it was June and we had both quit our jobs. We flew to England together and made our way to where everyone would meet up, which required that we rent some rooms in a hotel in the middle of nowhere since it was to be a low key gathering in the woods.

The afternoon of the actual meetup was upon us so Jim and I got in our rented car and made our way there. Quite a few other people were also arriving where we arrived. It was remarkable that most of them reminded me of Jim. They all seemed middle aged or older, but they also all had very weathered and seasoned skin, and now that I realized that most of them were likely hundreds of years old, didn’t surprise me. The others, which was a minority, mirrored me. They all seemed like people who were up until a few years ago, unaware of how they could control their bodies like this. Their eyes, as well as mine, were furtively darting around, trying to take in the new experience and the new people.

We all convened in a clearing in the woods. It was fairly low key, but the whole affair felt very foreign to me. I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that I had joined some cult, but everyone did seem very friendly, and there was no denying the changes that Jim had helped bring about in me. After mingling for a while, a very old looking man slowly hobbled up a makeshift podium that had been erected at one edge of the crowd. He had a stooped back and a respectably bushy, white beard. He was adorned with what looked like a traditional brown monk robe, complete with a rope embracing his waist. He was obviously quite wizened, and he looked upon the crowd with a twinkle in his eye as the corners of his mouth arced upwards. He cleared his throat, and silence overcame the crowd as everyone strained to hear what he was about to say.
“For those of you who are here for the first time, my name is now Michael. It was something else hundreds of years ago, but that is then and this is now. I discovered how my mind could impose its will upon my own body, and I embraced it. I mastered the craft and stopped aging in my later years, although I can see, much later than most of you gathered before me.” A chuckle coursed through the crowd of roughly 400 gathered people. Like a gust of wind, the crowd rustled with noise before falling silent again, straining to hear what he would say next. “Many years ago, centuries in fact, I was but a mere monk, living in a monastery. I was trying to uphold the will of God, but while doing my duties, I pondered why one must die. I decided that I still had much to do and much to achieve, and that I didn’t want to age anymore. So I didn’t.” He paused for dramatic effect as he slowly shifted his gaze across the crowd, trying to quickly make eye contact with as many as possible. “I had willed myself to not age anymore. I told myself every day that I wouldn’t age anymore, and that I wouldn’t die before I was finished making the world a better place and spreading the word of God. I noticed after a decade that I hadn’t really aged at all, and other monks who were in better shape than I had fallen ill, and some even perished. But I still remained.”

He paused quickly to drink some water. “I don’t believe in God anymore,” he continued, “but I believe in humanity. Nothing really shattered my faith in God, but I have lived far too long, and what I was taught centuries doesn’t really hold true anymore. Although there are those that would wish to cause harm to other humans, I do believe most humans are good, and I want to the world to be filled with decent people. I decided I would spend my life trying to find other people who want to make the world a better place and show them how to tame their bodies with their minds. Like a good virus, we will keep spreading, finding more people, and maybe one day there won’t be any more terrible people on the planet. You must be cautious though. Someone with evil intentions that learns of this power could wreak havoc. But if we find good people, descent people, we can slowly outnumber those that would wish to cause harm to others. Thank you all.”

And with that, he was done. He slowly descended the podium and started talking with some of the ones closer to the podium. The rest of the crowd continued to expectantly wait for a few minutes before also breaking into small circles and conversing with the others. I was a little disappointed, as I found the speech to be lackluster, but that was all that Michael offered. I continued to talk with Jim and a few other people that Jim obviously had known for a while. It was a surreal afternoon and then evening, and eventually Jim and I got back in our car and went to our hotel.

We sat in the bar in the hotel, drinking a beer together.
“So.. why did you pick me, Jim?” I asked after a few silent minutes since the previous discussion.
“Because you’re a good person.”
“A good person? How do you know that? Or how did you know that?”
“You seem to forget that I didn’t come to you about this the first day I met you. We worked with each other and I got to know you for quite a while before I decided to show you. Otherwise, you have a good personality. You’re not revengeful or spiteful. You are nice and sympathetic. Maybe not the perfect model citizen..” he jokingly laughed which got a chuckle out of me “but a good person nonetheless.”
“It’s kind of a big responsibility… to never die and show other people how to do the same.” I almost protested.
“It is. But don’t forget that while keeping your brain on level grounds is keeping you from getting unnecessarily sick and aging, you could easily start thinking the other way. If you wanted to not be a part of this, you just need to will yourself to age again, and you will age.”
“I would die, of my own will. Wouldn’t that be like suicide?”
“It depends on how you view it. You could view it as simply going back into the circle of life. Others decide that they have done enough and simply think it is time for themselves to go. I have had many friends do that.” he said with a slightly lost and sad look on his face.
“I won’t be able to see my old friends or family.”
“Not if you continue with this life I’m afraid. But you can bring much more to the world.”
I fell silent after that. Was this the life that I wanted? It would be nice to be part of something greater. After another few minutes of silently drinking, I decided that I would do it. There was a calling to it that I couldn’t escape. “Where will we go when we get back?” I pressed.
“Another city. It’s never a good idea to stay in the same city, you might get recognized.”
“What city will we go to then?”
“I don’t know, but we will go our own ways.” My confused look prompted another response. “It’s better to split up, we can cover more ground that way, and we can always meet up here again in another 10 years. If we go together, it is likely we would get complacent and not find any new people to teach. 10 years sounds like a long time to see each other again, but once you have lived for 200 years, it will be just another season to you.”
“I suppose you are right” I said while mournfully looking into my glass of beer. This was still all so new, so powerful, and so overwhelming that I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face it on my own. I would, but I would be scared.

Jim finished his beer and got up. “Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow” he said to me as he heavily put his hand down on my shoulder.
A single and weak “Yeah” escaped my lips and I continued looking into my glass. It was bittersweet. I would be able to live forever and never age, but I would have to leave my old life behind, including my family, and repeat that every 10 or so years, lest people get suspicious. I wasn’t sure how ethical it was to try and create some order of “descent” people. Who were we to decide that and to decide who gets shown how to make themselves immortal? Not immortal, but to not age is dangerously close. That was a lot of responsibility, and it felt dirty somehow. After mulling things over for a while, I finished my beer and then went up to my room to retire for the night.

We awoke the next morning, made our way to the airport and took our flight back to America. We were both largely quiet on the way there. It seemed like we both wanted to say something, and we would occasionally look at each other and make eye contact on the plane, only to nervously grin and look away, which made the flight actually incredibly awkward.

After landing, we grabbed our bags and then waited for a taxi to go back into the city. I figured we would both take the same taxi, but as I moved to the nearest taxi, Jim stayed behind. I turned to face him, and he simply told me, “I figured we should take our own taxis from here.”
“I understand.”
Jim stepped forward and struck out his hand. I took it and we gave each other one last firm handshake.
“Good luck, and we’ll see each other in a decade” he said with a wink.
“Thank you for everything” I simply said before turning and getting in the taxi.

Maybe I had gotten involved with what one could call a cult, but it had changed my life, and it didn’t seem like the worst of cults to be a part of. The cause was noble, and we were trying to make the world a better place. I got home, packed up my essentials before leaving everything else in my apartment. I went to the bus station and bought a ticket to another city, where I would start a new life, and hopefully enlighten someone else’s.

End