NOVEL NEXT Chapter 22
The next week passed much as my arbitrator predicted. I came and went, always under Terna’s personal escort. She was excellent at losing the many spies that attempted to follow us and divine my safe house’s locations. But Terna stayed ahead of them, primarily by rotating where I stayed, and using her intimate knowledge of the world ship.
It was in the Hall of Knowledge that I practiced my defense. It was an intimidating place in terms of its construction; more like a dozen cathedrals stuck together than a library, it was vast and imposing, filled with magnificent arches and the statues of past scholars. A variety of crystal glass cases showed off ancient tomes and holographic displays actively advertised this treatise or that, but in a hushed mental whisper that only became distracting if you walked up to it and touched it.
There were bookshelves and texts, of course, but most who came instead took out electronic files on little plastic Infocards.
These Infocards were sleek and compact, no larger than a credit card, and in the top right corner they held a strangely deep effervescent square that clearly stretched into some unseen other dimension. Within it, a number slowly twirled in a slow orbit, showing off the level of access the holder had available to them.
I was, of course, at number one. However, there was an asterisk next to mine, with the word ‘sponsored’ spelled out in the tiniest print I'd ever seen.
The rest of the cards were made of a durable, glossy material that shimmered when turned, and they apparently changed color as the levels of the user went up. Mine, as a beginning neophyte to the halls, was white. The highest level, I was told, was black.
Walking down the halls, staring quietly at everything, I came to the place I'd been directed. It was a cozy nook set near the center of the complex.
The nook was partially enclosed by tall bookshelves, their sheer presence closing off most of the area from view and giving the illusion of privacy. The shelves were filled with a variety of large book-shaped 'mind tapes' that I understood to be the actual lives and experiences of top Knowle scholars from the past, copied and formatted into a usable broadcastable medium. One into which I'd be opening my mind to the second I lay inside the educator device.
Right. The educator. I looked over to where it sat, looking so much like a mix between an old lazy boy recliner and a dentist chair. There was a tray hanging out from its arm, in which lay a variety of colored vials and a syringe that made me queasy. It wasn't the prick of the shot that worried me but rather the gauge of the needle. It looked like something you'd use to tranquilize a horse.
I hesitated, taking in a whiff of old dusty plastic and faux leather before stepping over to it. The lazy boy aspect of it looked great, and I imagined if it weren't a pre-BuyMort artifact the ads would probably describe it as 'an elegant blend of form and function, crafted from polished wood and rich almost leather' or some shit like that. It definitely wasn't a 4 star or less product, that was for sure. I turned around and sat back into it, feeling the faux-leather push soft and inviting against my suddenly weary body.
Right. Red, orange, green, then helmet and close my eyes, I thought to myself, remembering the instructions I'd been given. I picked up the injector, and slotted the red, taking the first shot like a champ despite the flare of flame inside me. The second and third went much the same way, and I was half-drunk by the time I got to that part about the helmet.
I swatted around blearily, finding it on a nearby pedestal. I held it up in front of me, examining it. The helmet was shiny plastic decorated over with patches of blinking lights. Its interior was soft, and cushioned, and placing it over my head felt a lot like what clouds looked like they'd feel like if we could touch them.
I could feel the VR world overwhelm my sleeping mind, like a directed and vivid dream. The technology was invasive and my brain fought against its waves of psionic pressure, striking out at its invasion of my dreams. Or so it all felt like, anyways. The best description of that first session was the sensation of a tsunami of energy and color overwhelming my consciousness, and seizing it with a firm hand.
No wonder I needed the meds to use the machine.
Tumbling from the sketchy beginning of whatever my mind had originally planned for me, I found myself rolling across thick green grasses then falling off a cliff, plopping into the center of a courtroom.
There was something wrong with it. Unlike the serious places of Nu-Earth, this courtroom looked more like a circus tent than a place of legal proceedings. The walls were draped in vibrant, swirling colors, and the ceiling was a kaleidoscope of stained glass that glittered rainbow hues from lights set up behind it. The judge's bench was an enormous tower of reddish-brown timber, manned by a Knowle who stared down sternly, wire-rim glasses perched on the end of his snout.
He licked his nose and nodded his powder-wigged head at me, before banging his gavel to begin the proceeding.
"Welcome to the Court Training Module Basics, Level 1, Recommended for Ages 7 - 9!" the judge boomed, his voice reverberating outwards. "Here, we will teach you the ins and outs of an academic defense, trial preparation, and the rules of etiquette. Pay close attention, young one, for it is the mark of a Knowle to be able to reason and use logic. Without these capabilities, you are nothing."
I puckered my lips, a sour taste rising in my mouth, just waiting for some rolled up piece of paper to stroll out and begin singing that he was just a bill. I'd been sent to start on a kid's module! Me, the former Warlord of BuyMort. I raised a finger to raise some objections and ask for a more advanced program, but to my left, a prosecutor appeared and screamed, "Objection!"
The prosecutor was wearing a felt top hat and carrying an oversized briefcase strutted forward, presenting a series of charges in a singsong voice. Coalescing from the misty borders of my dream world, a jury of Knowles appeared, 13 in total, and each of them nodded to the lawyer's words, gazing at me with a critical eye.
"Defendants should always bow to the judge and present their defense thesis, in accordance with the statutes of common presentation!" the prosecutor continued.
I grumbled, turning to the judge. "Your honor?" I asked, but it was too late to rectify my mistake as a chorus line of dancing gavels strode out of the misty nether, singing a tune about presentation and protocol. I listened to their words, memorizing their details, all the while wondering if Terna wasn't sitting somewhere watching this all and laughing her ass off.
Old Phyllis would have loved it.
The child-themed antics continued, various documents and enforcer type characters coming out to sing and dance about the importance of evidence and the stages of proper trial preparation. It was unexpectedly wacky and memorable. Something about the way everything was presented made the information flow well, and I even began to find myself tapping my foot to the various briefs.
Of course the lessons shifted and changed. My ‘defense’ cartoon gavel in a wig arrived and did a tap dance while demonstrating the proper way to address the judge, how to object respectfully, and the importance of maintaining a composed demeanor. A giant law book with arms and legs did an operatic solo about the importance of maintaining popular opinion during cases, while a courtroom audience appeared behind me to ooh and aah at the dramatics.
Soon enough, the lessons rolled to a close and I could feel the imposed dream world begin to roll back off my mind, peeling itself from every cerebral wrinkle with a mental snap. There was a flash, then words appeared in a manner much like a BuyMort ad. "Beginner session completed. Please report to a testing terminal to gain accreditation for the completion of this course. You will be charged the appropriate fees upon testing completion."
I woke up with a gasp, feeling incredibly clear headed and quite well rested. Before me stood Tazha Wulf, attired in another expensive suit, looking down at me through her round-lensed glasses. She hit a button on the side of the educator chair and as it rose up to put me back into a sitting position, she smirked.
“Welcome to the Knowle legal system, Mr. Dawes. There is a lot to learn before your trial, but I trust you have the mind and acumen to do so. Come, let us get your testing and accreditation.”