Terra (7 page)

Somewhere between those stars, too impossibly distant to see, was the small yellow star designated 6-66-724-41, around which orbited a blue-green planet known as 6-66-724-41/3, or more commonly, Rrth.

On exceptionally clear nights, the haze of light generated by stars too distant to be seen as individual bodies would be just about visible behind the constellation. Terra liked these nights; she could peer at the haze and imagine that somehow her eyes had fixed upon the bit of it that contained home.

Home.

Odd, Terra would reflect, that she still thought of Rrth as ‘home’. She had no memory of the place and everything she’d learned about it suggested that she was far better off away from there, but still . . .

Then she would remember Lbbp, and consider how terror-stricken he’d be if he knew where she was. She would reactivate her gravity bubble, cast one last glance at the stars, and float back down to her room.

Terra didn’t do this very often. Only when she felt a certain way. Like tonight.

T
erra stared glumly at the object on the table.

It resembled an ornate lamp with a hemispherical glass shade. A series of illuminated touch controls was clustered around the metal base. The stem was made of a semi-flexible alloy so as to make its height adjustable. To Terra, it looked a lot like the sort of thing that you should never ever on any account stick your head in, but, before the morning was over, that’s exactly what she would have to do.

-
This,
said Bsht,
is an Interface.

The rest of the class seemed not to share Terra’s apprehension. Rather, a crackle of excitement passed around the lectorium at Bsht’s words. They’d been looking forward to this.

-
The Interface,
Bsht went on,
is a telemnemonic information transfer system. Does anyone know what that means?

Fthfth knew.

-
It means it sends information directly into the memory centres of the brain. You can learn things that used to take cycles of reading in less than a shade.

-
That’s right,
said Bsht,
and you will be the first Lyceum novices to be allowed to use it.

What Bsht didn’t mention was how controversial a decision this had been. Terra only knew because she’d overheard Lbbp and Bsht arguing about it a few cycles previously.

She’d been writing a short piece for the Pre-Ac’s end of session bulletin; a little vote of thanks for the work of the Pre-Ac teaching staff to which all the other pupils would add their names in due course. She’d wanted to ask Lbbp’s opinion on how formal her language should be (Mlml society – in particular academic society – sets great store on striking the correct ‘tone’ in one’s writing) and so had skipped out of her room and into the corridor. To her surprise, when she reached the door to the main room she heard Lbbp speaking in a very animated fashion. She stayed outside the door and listened.

-
It’s outrageous!
Lbbp was saying.
It’s unethical, it’s reckless . . . What on Fnrr does the Preceptor think he’s doing?

That made sense, thought Terra. Lbbp only ever got this worked up about academic matters.

-
I don’t know why you’re complaining to me,
said Bsht,
it’s the council’s decision. If you’ve a serious objection you should have taken it up with them.

-
I DID take it up with them. They called me retrograde! Retrograde! Me! Can you believe that?

Bsht said nothing, but even from the other side of the door Terra could guess at what her facial expression was.

-
Knowledge can’t be injected like some sort of vaccine,
said Lbbp, calming down a little.
There’s no point knowing something if you don’t even know WHY you know it. And how are you supposed to appreciate knowledge that took no effort to acquire? That’s not education, it’s programming. It’s disgusting.

-
For what it’s worth,
said Bsht soothingly,
there a quite a few of us on the staff at the Lyceum who agree with you.

-
Still going to do it though, aren’t you?
muttered Lbbp
. Still going to initiate the programme. On children! The Interface was developed by the military as a speed-briefing system and we’re using it on children!

-
Are you going to resign from the Preceptorate?
asked Bsht.

-
No. There’d be no point,
sighed Lbbp.

-
Fine,
said Bsht tersely.
Well, don’t give ME a hard time then.

At this point, Terra had tiptoed back to her room, deciding that maybe she didn’t need Lbbp’s help just now after all. But she’d made a mental note of the word ‘Interface’, and, as such, when Bsht had announced at the end of the previous day’s classes that today would be their first day working with one, she’d felt a twinge of panic. Now she was looking at the machine itself, and the panic was creeping back.

Bsht talked the class through the basics of the device’s design and use. The touch controls selected the required texts (the device would then access these files from the Source) and the user would fit the crystal dome over his or her head. The device would give a three-blip countdown and then begin stimulating the memory centres of the user’s brain, transferring the information as quickly as if one were loading files onto a slate. Terra thought it sounded absolutely terrifying.

Bsht knew it was almost pointless asking who wanted to go first, but for procedure’s sake she thought she’d better. She got as far as -
Who would like to go f . . .
before Fthfth ran down to the front of the lectorium and jammed her head into the dome.

-
What can I learn? What can I learn? What are the choices?
said Fthfth’s voice from inside the dome.

-
Steady on,
said Bsht.
It takes a moment to programme it.

-
Something difficult!
shouted Fthfth.
Something really massive like the complete history of the J’shfsk-G’grk wars!

-
One thing at a time,
said Bsht.
This is the test programme. See how you do with this.

Bsht’s long fingers moved smoothly over the illuminated keys. The machine throbbed gently, a low blue light pulsing from the glass dome.

-
Come on!
said Fthfth.

-
Try to keep still,
said Bsht.

The machine gave three loud blips and activated itself. A deep hum came from the dome as it glowed with a fierce yellow light.

-
Hkh hkh hkh!
laughed Fthfth.
It’s tickly!

-
DO hold still, Fthfth,
said Bsht anxiously, wondering what would happen if the dome became misaligned. Did it overwrite existing memories? She didn’t want to have to tell Fthfth’s distinguished parents that their highly gifted daughter had absorbed vast amounts of facts and figures but forgotten how to walk.

The machine completed its sequence and shut down. Fthfth emerged from the dome, beaming. -
How did I do?
she asked eagerly.

-
Well, let’s see.
Bsht took her slate and brought up a list of test questions.

-
Who was Preceptor from orbit twenty-four to seventy-seven in the twenty-first era?

-
Jksh! Jksh the Younger!

-
Correct. When did Tnk successfully identify the cohesion field?

-
Orbit fifty-four of the twenty-seventh era!

-
What invention made it possible to break the energy barrier?

-
The phased neutrino shunt! Invented by Kltnt! Orbit sixteen, thirtieth era!

-
Which planet is the primary source for grav-matter?

-
Planet fifty-five dash four six six dash two three one slash four, sometimes known as Shth-Shnn; it exists in gravitational suspension between two stars and as such is uniquely . . .

-
Thank you, Fthfth. The test programme seems to have been a success.

Fthfth frowned. -
But I already knew all that.

Fortunately, the rest of the class had rather more and bigger gaps in their general knowledge than Fthfth, and as they took their turns with the Interface they found it filled these gaps swiftly and painlessly. Even Pktk managed to use the device successfully and without incident (apart from a moment’s difficulty extricating his head from the dome, and this hardly counted as an incident by Pktk’s standards).

Terra hung back and kept quiet, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as the sole representative of an alien species is ever likely to be. Perhaps, she thought, she wouldn’t have to take a turn at all. Perhaps some edict had been handed down by the council that Ymns were too primitive to use the Interface, or too savage to be trusted with access to all that information. That would be good. She could bear the insult if it got her out of having to put that . . . thing on her head.

-
So, Terra, your turn.

Oh well.

Terra crept reluctantly to the front of the lectorium.

-
It’s fine!
said Fthfth.
It’s tickly!

-
I can tell you’re nervous,
said Bsht calmingly,
but the manufacturers have assured us that the Interface should be entirely safe and compatible with the Ymn brain.

How do they know?
thought Terra.
There’s only one Ymn brain on the planet and I’m fairly sure I’d know if they’d been running tests on it.
She contemplated pointing this out but decided it would be futile.

-
Now put the dome over your head and try to relax,
said Bsht as Terra bowed meekly before the machine.

The crystal dome was disconcertingly warm, even though it didn’t fit as snugly over Terra’s head as it had over her classmates’. Her ears brushed against the insides.
Nowhere to put my ears, of course,
thought Terra.
There wouldn’t be.

-
I’m starting the programme now,
said Bsht. There was the sound of three blips, and then . . . nothing.

-
Ah,
said Bsht.
Just a second.

-
Can I come out?
asked Terra.

-
Hang on,
said Bsht,
I’m bringing up the user manual on my slate.

-
Is there anything in there about using it on Ymns?
asked Terra hopefully.
Or maybe NOT using it on Ymns?
she added, more hopefully.

-
Well, there’s a trouble-shooting section . . . Here we are. It didn’t sync with your brain because your head’s slightly too small, that’s all.

Terra heard a brief burst of titters, which ceased abruptly.

-
So now what? Can I come out?

-
No, it’s fine,
said Bsht,
I just have to compensate by increasing the sensitivity a little . . . There. Let’s try again.

Terra waited forlornly. Her neck was starting to stiffen up. She heard the three blips, and then . . .

-
I think she’s coming round.

Terra opened her eyes. Her head ached appallingly and her vision swam. She could just see a ring of concerned-looking faces peering down at her.

-
Take it easy,
said Bsht.
There’s been . . . an incident.

Terra sat up. She was at the back of the lectorium. Between her and the front desk, on which sat the Interface, a path seemed to have been cleared straight down the middle of the room, the chairs shoved out of the way.

-
Have I been . . .?
Terra croaked.

-
It was incredible!
enthused Fthfth.
You got blown right out of the dome all the way back here!

Terra blinked. She was sore all over and there was the most horrid smell coming from somewhere.

-
It was pretty amazing, actually,
said Pktk.
I wish I’d recorded it on my slate so I could show you.

-
What do they call that fibrous stuff that grows out of her head?
Shnst asked Bsht. Bsht was busy speaking to someone on the Lyceum’s internal communication system.

-
What was that?
asked Bsht distractedly.

-
What do they call that fibrous stuff that grows out of her head, Lector Bsht?
asked Thnst.

-
Oh. Hair. It’s called hair.

-
Right. Only it’s on fire, that’s all.

-
I’m so sorry. I should have made them exempt you from using that thing.

Lbbp and Terra sat on the smooth bench seat in the main room of their apartment. After the regrettable Interface incident, Lbbp had been sent for and had taken Terra home immediately. Though the Lyceum’s resident physician had found no lasting damage to any of Terra’s vital systems (although by his own admission he wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for), it had been decided to give her a day off to recover.

-
It’s all right. It wasn’t your fault,
said Terra, pretending not to know anything about Lbbp’s earlier misgivings with regard to the Interface.

- Well,
said Lbbp, thankful that Terra didn’t know anything about his earlier misgivings with regard to the Interface,
if it’s any consolation I don’t think they’re going to make you try to use the Interface again.

-
What? Oh no!

Not the reaction Lbbp had been hoping for. -
I thought you’d be relieved,
he said.

Terra sighed. -
Don’t you see? Everyone else will just be pouring information into their heads using that machine while I’ll have to read it all up the old-fashioned way. I’ll get completely left behind!

Terra got up off the bench and stomped across the room to the window. The sun was setting over the city. The towers and spires glinted pink and orange against the deep red sky. It was, by any standard, a breathtaking sight, but at that moment, it filled Terra with an aching loneliness. It was a beautiful world. But not her beautiful world.

-
I already feel so . . . different. This is just going to make things worse.

Lbbp stood behind her and put a slender grey hand on her shoulder.

-
And what’s so wrong with being different? Doesn’t make you less important, or less clever, or less . . .