att(pirated)

The more time I spent on the Henry Estate, the more I came to appreciate just how much I'd learned across my previous lives.

One of the first thing's I'd learned in life was that the mind was just like a muscle, the more you exercised it, the stronger it got. And I'd taken that to heart by learning as much as I possibly could. From Language to Law, History to Home Economics, and whatever else I could get my hands on. I'd treated my mind in the same way a boxer treated their body, constantly exercising it by learning as much as I possibly could. As such, when I'd been killed, and Being X had thrown me into my second life, I had a wealth of knowledge to work with.

In that life, my training as an aerial mage had focused heavily on math. Using complex magical spells without a computation orb required the mage to calculate multiple inputs and factors in order to produce a viable magical output. Using flight as an example; you'd have to account for both fixed factors such as gravity, and variable factors like the wind, before you could even think about moving. That was part of the reason behind why computation orbs were such a game changer. It meant that a mage could use an orb that had been pre-loaded with useful spells, rather than having to learn all of them manually. And because the orb did all of the little calculations to make the spells work reliably, it cut down on training time by a considerable margin and lowered the bar for someone to become a magic user.

But in order to reach that point, you still needed to know the fundamentals, and for imperial mages, that meant learning basic spellcasting before being handed an orb. And thanks to my prior knowledge from my first life, I'd been able to learn a lot of the mathematical aspects fairly easily. And in turn, that had allowed me to stay at the academy rather than being forced to wait until I was older to begin my training. And that had only been enhanced by the… extensive training that I'd put the 203rd through. Everyone in that unit had been trained to use far more complicated spells such as magical camouflage and how to slow a fall without a computation orb, myself included. And that experience gave me a leg up on the math side of the education program at the Henry estate.

Meanwhile, my experiences in my second life gave me an edge in my language lessons. Ludmila handled the majority of the language education, covering English and Russian, while I sat in on Valerie's German lessons in return for her sitting in on my Russian lessons. In my previous life, I'd mastered both Germanian and Ablish, that world's equivalent of German and English. And while there were definitely differences between the languages, especially when it came to the Ablish-English split, it gave me a leg up that I sorely needed. The biggest stumbling block with those two languages had been simply un-learning the different methods of pronunciation and pluralisation from Germanian and Albish, and relearning them for German and English. And because of that, I'd managed to relearn enough of both languages to hold basic conversations within a few short months. And before my first year at the mansion, I was fluent in both.

Unfortunately, that simply didn't apply to the Russian side of things. While I had some basic understanding of the language, thanks to the limited education that I'd received at the orphanage, I'd never learned the Rus language in my second life. Back during the Russy campaign, I'd delegated the lion's share of the translation and intermediary work to Visha. And in turn, it had left my skills with the language rather lackluster. Were it not for the fact that I'd been born in Russia, I would have simply dropped the subject altogether. But I had to show that I was willing to learn, and that meant that the damnable language had to stay.

And that highlighted my biggest threat. The language situation proved just how much of my skill set relied on abilities that I'd fostered in my previous life. It gave me an initial advantage over the more natural child prodigies that I shared the mansion with, but that advantage would diminish with time and exposure to new subjects. And given how I already had to stretch my intellectual legs just to blend in, I probably had less time available than I thought. Valerie was my closest competitor on the language front, as she attended the same classes as me. A couple of the boys were matching me when it came to math, and I'm pretty sure that at least three of the other kids had photographic memory from how quickly they picked up new games and challenges. Sure, learning multiple languages would help stimulate brain development and promote cognitive flexibility, but that could only help so much.

And that became a problem when you realized that, like a muscle that you haven't exercised in a while, skills and knowledge that you hadn't made use of in years would eventually be forgotten or overwritten. It wasn't a case that I just woke up and realized that I couldn't remember any Japanese. But more and more, I was starting to realize that a lot of the subjects I'd studied in my first life, and I'd not properly used in my second, were slowly fading away. Take the arts as an example. Sure, I could tell the difference between Impressionism and Post-Impressionism in art, but the minutia between the two eluded me.

Or, as my current lesson hammered home, Biology.

Right now, me and a handful of other children who were fluent in English had been grouped together in one of the lab rooms in the East wing of the mansion. So far, grouped classes like these had been practically unheard of, as a lot of the lessons we received were handled on a one-on-one basis via our minders. But recently, there'd been more of a drive to get the children who could speak and understand English to all take classes together. Probably as a reaction to the Jonah incident, or at least as a way to foster a sense of unity among the children of the estate.

My evidence for that claim? Jonah himself. Even though he still spent most of his day confined to his room, this joint lesson and meal times were the only occasions where he was brought out of his semi-solitary confinement and allowed to mingle with the other kids. As I'd predicted back in the forest, the absolute worst the boy had received was solitary confinement for a week and having to spend the past few weeks on a bland soup-only diet. It didn't sound like much of a punishment for trying to run away, but being forced to eat a bland watery soup while the people around you were eating full roast dinners puts one hell of a strain on the stomach. Especially when you were within smelling distance.

Thankfully, that also meant that getting Jonah to open up to people was as simple as getting them to share food or time with him. A fact that I'd been quick to exploit under the guise of helping to teach him stuff like math and science. There was still a long way to go before he was passable at those subjects, and he would probably never catch up to the other kids at the estate. But at the very least he was engaging with me, rather than simply saying that he 'didn't get it' when confronted by a subject that he didn't understand.

How much of that was down to a genuine desire to learn from me, or the fact that my continued tutorage came with free sweet treats, was still up in the air.

Either way, he was learning. Which meant that he at least seemed to be able to keep up with the ongoing biology lesson. Which was a good thing, seeing how the mansion staff had decided to throw us in at the deep end.

"The cell is the basic building block of everything that lives. Plants, animals, people, and so much more rely on them in order to function." The private tutor, Doctor Gannt, explained from the front of the lab. He was a new face around here, even if said face was mostly covered by a pair of comically large and thick-framed glasses. He had the look of a man fresh out of a job as a university lecturer. Which meant that either he hadn't cut it in his last job, or Sir Henry was offering much more than his last university could afford. And all things considered, choosing between the two would be a suckers bet. "Can anyone tell me what a cell is, or how it functions?"

"A cell is a microscopic organism, consisting of a number of smaller parts called organelles, which are contained within a membrane. These include things like the nucleus, mitochondria, and ribosomes; which each perform specific tasks to keep the cell alive." Daniel, the boy who was scared of doctors, was the first to speak. Like almost everyone else in the room, he already knew a decent amount about cellular biology, thanks to the heavy focus on biology that had begun ever since our first days at the mansion, and had continued through near daily lessons with our minders. Personally, it was a decision I found interesting, especially when you considered the weird eugenics focus that was apparently a driving force behind this whole program. But I'd long-since given up on actively trying to find out why there was so much focus on it. Mostly down to the fact that I always got a different answer when I tried to find out.

"Very good. Comte Henry had said that all of you were smart, but this is certainly more than I was expecting." Dr. Gannt smiled warmly, and quickly shuffled away some papers. If I had to guess, he'd been expecting to have to teach some rich guy's kids from scratch. And given how his checkered brown suit seemed like it'd be more at home at somewhere like Oxford or some other fancy university, he was probably very happy to not have to start with the basics.

The doctor shuffled through a few more sheets of paper, apparently looking for something more advanced to focus on, before asking his next question. "Can anyone tell me about the different parts of a cell?"

"Plant, or animal?" I spoke up this time, asking a basic question in order to seem as if I was engaging with the lesson. It was a step above simple mirroring, but given how I was dealing with someone who at least appeared to be smart enough to teach at a university, I needed to up my game.

"Let's go with an animal cell to start with." The doctor replied, giving me his full attention. I smiled even as I cursed to myself. I'd just wanted to sound as if I was actively listening to the lesson. I hadn't wanted to actually take part.

"Animal cells have five main parts." I began, recalling what I'd first learned two lives ago, and Ludmila had reintroduced me to a few months ago. "The outer shell of the cell is the cell membrane, which acts as a barrier between the cell and the outside world. The majority of the cell is then filled by cytoplasm, which is where most chemical reactions happen within the cell. Some of the chemicals in those reactions are made within the cell as proteins, which are produced in a part called the ribosome. All of this is controlled by the nucleus, which coordinates basic functions, and contains the DNA needed to carry out normal functions. And finally, there's the mitochondria, which is the powerhouse of the cell."

Doctor Gannt nodded at my admittedly basic description of an animal cell, before turning his attention to the rest of the class. "And can anyone tell me the major parts of a plant cell?"

"A plant cell is similar to an animal cell, but it has two or three parts that an animal cell doesn't have. First is the cell wall, which reinforces the cell membrane and creates a rigid structure. The cell wall is supported by the Vacuole, which contains a mixture of liquids, glucose, and salt to help keep the cell running. Finally, some plant cells contain a third part called a chloroplast. The chloroplast is the thing in a plant cell which makes it green, and is responsible for photosynthesis." The answer came from the only other girl in the class, and my friend, Christine. The French girl was one of the few people actively engaging with the class. And to be perfectly honest, I was totally fine with letting her handle a lot of the work. Unlike me, she appeared to be engaging out of an actual interest in the topic, rather than trying to mean an arbitrary engagement quota.

That seemed to satisfy the doctor, who gave me a reassuring smile before turning his attention back to the class. "Very good. Now, can anyone tell me why a plant cell has those extra parts, while an animal cell doesn't?"

"Is it because plants are simpler than animals, and need cells that can do multiple roles at once? By standardizing as many roles as possible into one cell, it streamlines production and allows the plant to better use its limited resources." I suggested, hoping to use the opportunity to cap out my involvement in the class. I was totally guessing, but I based my theory on basic manufacturing economics. It was a solid enough foundation for a guess. And at the very least, it sounded like it could be correct.

Unfortunately, the doctor shook his head at my suggestion. "That's a good guess. But in all reality, plants are just as complex as some animals. Sure, they're not about to grow legs and start walking around, but defining them as simple things would be a disservice. Unfortunately, that's something we'll have to save for a future class. Right now, let's return to the wonderful world of cells. And there's an important part of the cell that both Tanya and Christine forgot to mention. Does anyone know how cells communicate with each other?"

"They use a special organ called a signaling molecule." This time, the answer came from an unexpected source, as Jonah spoke up. Sure the answer wasn't completely correct, but I still smiled and nodded when he shot a look in my direction. Even if he was wrong, getting him to engage with the lesson would help with getting him to open up.

"Close, but you've gotten a bit confused. While signaling molecules are chemical compounds produced by a cell, and they are used to communicate with other cells. They aren't the part that interprets incoming stimuli, rather they are the stimuli. When they interact with a cell, they bind with a specific structure called a receptor." Doctor Gannt smiled as he corrected the boy's mistake. Jonah looked confused for a few seconds, so Gannt put it into simpler terms. "The easiest way to think about it is to imagine someone splashing you with water. In that case, you would be the cell, the water would be the signaling molecule, and your skin would be the receptor."

Satisfied that he'd found an inroad to start his lesson rather than playing twenty-questions, the doctor started to teach. He switched on a projector at the front of the room, and after taking a moment to find the right slide, he started covering the stages of cell signaling. On an adjacent whiteboard he further illustrated his points by drawing a series of crude stand-ins for various parts of a cell, and how the whole signaling system worked on a step-by-step basis. Starting with reception, then moving on to transduction, and finally response. And in order to serve as an example, Doctor Gannt decided to focus on a very interesting topic. Insulin signaling, how it regulated glucose levels, and how impaired insulin signaling was the cause of Type 2 Diabetes.

Diabetes wasn't something that I had any experience with in either of my past lives. As far as I could recall, the closest I ever came to the condition was as a member of HR in my first life. And that was only because, anything that affected the health of a worker was the company's business, so I'd probably been to a few meetings about it, and I'd probably told someone to take better care of themselves. Afterall, a staff member who's ill would naturally have worse productivity than their healthier colleagues. As for my second life, while mages often required a calorie-dense diet in order to have the energy required to build up a usable reserve of magic, trying to get it through sweet treats like chocolate and stuff like that had been avoided for a number of reasons in the empire. It had been a problem in the post-war Unified States and the Allied Kingdom, but the influence of magic changed a lot of things in the medical field, which meant that conditions like diabetes weren't really a problem for a mage.

Though for surviving mages of the Great War, the biggest medical question was always if they'd burned out or not. If they had, their lifespan could be measured in a handful of years, as overcoming your natural magic limits had a disastrous effect on the body. But if a mage hadn't pushed themselves too hard, they could live abnormally long lives. A couple of the mages I encountered during the war had even managed to outlive me, in spite of being older than me by a good margin. Off the top of my head I could remember the younger Drake, and the woman who'd served alongside that witch Mary, at least until she'd been crippled during Operation Typhoon and the subsequent fall of the Russy Capitol.

Which made my death a bit more suspicious, now that I thought about it. Sure, none of the 203rd had been alive in that life's twilight years. But I should have survived longer. Most of the time I was in combat, I'd used the comparatively stable Type 97. Whenever I'd needed to push beyond that I'd switched over to the Type 95, and most of the time that was only as long as the cursed computation orb's pre-battle 'charge' of magic had lasted. That way, I'd been able to simultaneously avoid the spiritual contamination that Being X had cursed the device with, and I'd also been able to avoid pushing myself beyond my limits. To them, sure. I had to do it multiple times when facing that psycho Mary. But never beyond that, I figured that dying from magic over-use would count as dying "beyond my time" and that Being X would have taken it as a victory.

So how did I die in that life, and could someone have brought it to a close before the ordained time?

"Of course, insulin signaling isn't the only type of stimulus that can affect a cell. While all living organisms are reliant on a myriad of specific chemicals and specific proteins, there are other factors that play a part in how cells function. A good example of that is temperature." Doctor Gannt explained, dragging my mind back to the here and now. He'd finally moved on from cell signaling, and he was instead holding up a clear bowl that was filled about halfway with an off-yellow grain. One that I instantly recognised from my few forays into the kitchen.

"Take yeast as an example. Did you know that yeast is actually a kind of fungus? By exploiting the fact that yeast growth can be enhanced with exposure to high temperature, civilisations around the world have been able to feed the masses." The doctor explained, holding up the small bowl of leavening agent like it was some sort of trophy, or a magical elixir. Unfortunately, I didn't have long to admire his form before the doctor turned his attention to me. "Miss Tanya, as you seemed a bit distracted, perhaps you have an insight into the wonderful world of cell stimuli and the signaling environment?"

Damn it! He must have caught me staring off into space, and figured that I wasn't listening to the lesson! I've gotta say something that sounds smart, and fast.

I politely coughed as I thought up something smart, before speaking with all the confidence I could display. As a small child it wasn't much, but every little counted. "As you've said, temperature can affect the multiplication rate of cells in a given body. The rate of chemical reactions in a cell is handled by certain proteins, called enzymes. Higher temperatures provide more energy for enzyme reactions, like when bread rises in the oven. As such, lower temperatures can slow down those reactions and reduce the rate of cell multiplication. This can be exploited by certain plants or fungi to ensure that seeds will only begin to grow when environmental factors are favorable."

"I see. And what drew you to your conclusion on how cells may function in low-temperature environments?" The doctor replied, keeping a strong poker face that told me all I needed to know. I was on the right track, but I needed to give a reason for why I'd come to my conclusion.

"Well, before I came here, I lived in a village with an orchard, and I always wondered why the apple seeds only started growing in the spring, after winter. But seeds don't have eyes and probably can't tell the time, so how would they know that it's spring? Given what you've taught us, it makes sense for it to be an internal reaction. I'd guess that the seed sprouting in spring would be due to a change in the signaling environment within the cell." I replied, referring back to my time before coming to the mansion to give a bit of a foundation to what I was saying. Of course, I could have worded it to sound like it was something I inferred from some other source. Like reading about it in a book. But that excuse was always a cop-out, even if bringing up my past would draw some disapproving looks.

Thankfully the one person who mattered in this case, Doctor Gannt, didn't seem to disapprove. He kept his poker face up for a few seconds as he considered what I'd said, before a small smile crossed his face. "Bravo… that is a very insightful theory, and one that a few doctors are already working to prove!"

"One of the doctors I used to work with, Doctor Luckwill, was one of the first to identify the effect of enzymes in seed germination. Funnily enough, he proved it by identifying abscisic acid in apple seeds back in sixty nine. That study got him a job with the Umbrella Corporation, and I think he still works with them today on a similar topic at their Paris branch. A few other doctors have repeated his work on both sides of the Iron Curtain, and have confirmed his theories. Outside of their work, there was a similar posted by Doctor Robert Steele in the nineteen seventy six edition of Biochemistry, if you're interested in the topic, I'd recommend looking at their works if you're interested." The doctor explained, a warm look crossing his face as he recalled the memory. His story didn't interest me, but this Umbrella Corporation did. The name didn't ring a bell at all, but learning about important companies now would probably help me in the long run.

"Thank you, doctor. I think I saw an edition of Biochemistry in one of the studies. I'll give it a look after the lesson." I smiled and nodded at the Doctor. I'd probably have to keep my word and give the book a once-over, but as long as I remembered enough about it to answer some basic questions in the next lesson, I could look like a star student, and hopefully coast my way through the rest of the subject.

"Very good. It's a pleasant surprise to have a student that's so interested in how life works." Gannt returned the smile, before remembering exactly why he was here, and getting back to his job. Teaching. "Ah, but back to the topic at hand…"

And so, the lesson continued. And with the attention of the students fixed firmly on their newest teacher. None of them noticed the various minders glancing over at Tanya, and writing the exact same note…