Chapter 16 - Rob is Not Wikipedia

“So let me get this straight,” Rob said, despondent. “I could have been a mage?”

“And quite the potent one!” Elder Duran smiled at him. “Not everyone has the spark of magic within them, but nearly all Humans do, and you’re no exception. Considering your superlative – for Level 1, at any rate – Mind stat upon arriving in Elatra, and how quickly you gained both natural stats and Levels, you could have boosted your Magic to a high value in short order. Learning spells does require intensive study, but considering your background as a man of learning, I’m sure you would have taken to it with gusto.” He rubbed his nonexistent beard. “Had you come to our world under more auspicious conditions, who knows where the path of magic might have led you?”

Rob imagined flying high above Ixatan, cackling as lightning danced on his fingertips, the wind at his face as he executed strafing runs on any squirrels he could find. In another lifetime, perhaps, he despaired.

“Keep your chin up,” Elder Duran consoled. “Magic is hardly required to succeed in life. Why, Riardin himself is completely incapable of casting spells – only Ranger Skills. And you’d be hard-pressed to find a more formidable man within a hundred miles.”

“I knooow,” Rob sulked. “Thanks for the explanation anyway. I believe it’s your turn to ask a question?”

Duran clapped his hands together. “Indeed it is! I was wondering: you said that, to account for the lack of Healing magic, medical science on Earth had advanced far beyond that of Elatra’s. Did your intellects ever discover why Humans only have a lifespan of around 80-100 years at best? It’s always fascinated me why elves can live several hundred years longer than Humans despite our races being so outwardly similar in appearance.”

Rob shook his head. “Biology wasn’t my area of study, and even our experts are still trying to unlock the mysteries of the human body. I think I read something one time about...telomeres degrading...maybe?”

It was growing increasingly frustrating that there was a priceless wealth of information that he knew existed but could no longer access. The realization had truly hit him back when he imagined how guns would change the landscape of Elatra. Earth-grade munitions would give him an incredible edge in a world where the strongest physical projectiles were arrows and thrown spears. He might even unlock a Gunslinger Class or something along those lines. Exploding machine gun bullets, infinite ammo; with Earth guns combined with Elatra RPG bullshit, the sky would be the napalm-scented limit. But what if others took the technology away from him and used it to wage war? Introducing firearms to a fantasy world would have far-reaching consequences. Bloody consequences. Elatra was already recovering from a near-apocalyptic conflict, and he didn’t want the weight of kickstarting their World War 2 resting on his soul.

Then he’d remembered that he had no idea how to make guns. Or gunpowder. The latter involved sulfur...maybe?

Rob couldn’t beat himself up too much. He was only a sophomore in college and didn’t have an eidetic memory that would keep him from forgetting anything he’d ever read. That didn’t stop his lapses in knowledge from being so discouraging. Back on Earth, all the information a person could ever ask for was only an internet search away. All those articles on agriculture, physics, medicine, engineering...out of his reach, when not so long ago, it had been only a brush of the fingertips away.

He did remember an article talking about how the ease at which information could be accessed was weakening people’s long-term memory. Which was ironic enough to be annoying but not ironic enough to be funny.

“We all had our personal favorite fields of study that we focused on,” Rob offered. “For example, I could tell you the personalities, abilities, and life histories of all the major characters in the Marvel & DC pantheon.”

Elder Duran’s eyebrows rose. “Pantheon…? Ah, so you were studying to be a religious scholar. Was Marvel And DC a widespread faith back on Earth?”

“...yes.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime! I’ve never heard of those gods before.”

Okay, now I’m feeling guilty, Rob thought. I should give him something actually useful.

An idea struck him. “Do you guys know about germ theory?”

Duran scratched his chin. “I’m not sure we do. What is that?”

“Hmm. How about this: I know people on Elatra wash their hands to stay clean and ward off ilness. And you know that people that are infected with a contagious disease should be quarantined. Are you aware of why any of that works?”

“There are many theories,” Elder Duran replied. “Ranging from the actions warding off curses, to cleanliness being rewarded by the gods with greater health. The specifics elude us, though.”

Rob double-checked his Character Sheet.

Name: Disease Resistance (LV 3)
Prerequisite: Come down with a potentially life-threatening disease.
Description: Helps you fight off nasty microorganisms. Sadly, you won’t get EXP from them.

“Do your descriptions for Disease Resistance not mention microorganisms?”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing before.”

Rob leaned forward. “Okay, so. While some ailments are caused by the body naturally failing over time, many other sicknesses are caused by infinitesimally small living beings that enter your body and make a mess of the place. Your body has its own microorganisms inside called cells that perform many functions that keep your body running smoothly, and one of those functions is to fight off harmful microorganisms – called bacteria, or viruses, depending on the kind of illness. Part of the reason your body weakens during sickness is because your cells are spending energy to wage a war against the viruses. The reason why contagious people need to be quarantined is so that they don’t transfer those harmful microorganisms to others before their body’s cells eradicate the viruses within. And the reason that washing your hands with soap and water reduces the risk of disease is because it both kills and physically moves the harmful microorganisms off your hands, and people put their hands on and in everything, including their mouths and their nose.”

Elder Duran’s eyes kept widening as Rob spoke until they looked about ready to pop out of his head. “Earth has confirmed this?”

Rob nodded. “Smarter people than me invented a device called a microscope that is capable of seeing very, very, very small things, which let us directly observe the microorganisms. I’ve seen them myself in science class.” He made several gestures towards different parts of the room. “They’re pretty much everywhere. On the floor, on the walls, on the desk, on me, on you, in me, in you. A lot of them are harmless, and some are outright beneficial, but it’s the nasty bacteria and viruses you have to watch out for. Wouldn’t recommend eating food you’ve dropped on the ground, by the way.” He paused. “Uh, Elder Duran? You doing okay?”

The Elder’s face had turned an interesting mixture of colors, but mostly green, giving him the appearance of a sentient salad. “I believe I’m going to go bathe. Vigorously.”

He left in a hurry. Rob didn’t see him again for two days, when Duran came back sparkling clean and begging Rob not to discuss germ theory with anyone else lest he incite a panic among the masses.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad that he couldn’t remember everything from Earth.