NOVEL NEXT Chapter 116: A Threat
––––––
Hiram: the first thing you need to learn about education systems is that they are creating something useful to them from the rough stuff that is you. For you to benefit from this process, you must strive for an endpoint of mutual benefit, or, alternatively, secure a position of leverage.
––––––
Monday, November 25th, 2090, about 1:00 pm MST, Montana City
"Karen," said her academic advisor "We would like a word in private."
"'We'd like a word.' Ominous," Karen commented.
She stood up and followed her academic advisor to the office.
"Finals aren't till December," Karen commented, fishing.
"You're almost done," acknowledged her advisor. "But we've been receiving complaints from generous sponsors about the impact your stream, and its portrayal of intoxicating substances, not to mention the violence, might have on the reputation of the school and your fellow students."
Karen knew what she was supposed to do: sit there, take it. Appear contrite.
This was infuriating.
"This is bullshit," she said.
"Young lady—" the advisor began.
Her guidance counselor was probably five years older than she was.
"We're both adults," said Karen. "We're in private. I'm not representing the school here."
The counselor inhaled, then gestured patiently. "You represent a lot of investment from the school, and that can look like representation."
"I'm not representing the school on my stream. That's what I do in my private time. Or are you trying to say that people with OnlyFans can't get a college education? Are you trying to say that people with a criminal record can't get a college education?"
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
Karen leaned forward. "Am I paying you for an education or not?"
The woman blinked. "Well. That is to say, there are still standards of behavior. You can't disrupt your fellow students, or we can't have you here, no matter how good your claim may be to—"
"But I haven't interfered with any other students. I can't have. If this is about my stream? I do that from a haptic rig in a studio. It's impossible."
"Young lady, you are not going to argue your way out of this."
"Stop infantilizing me. You are not even older than I am."
The counselor folded her hands. "The fact is, cam girls, convicts, and whatever else you might imagine we might have in our student body and are ignoring? We've let them in. If there are any of those, no one's complained about them. Now, what are you doing? For some reason you're the only one making people complain. So maybe you should stop doing it. Or find somewhere else to complete your degree."
Karen stared at her. "You would lose this lawsuit," she said flatly.
The woman laughed. Laughed—actually laughed—right in her face.
"You can't afford to hire someone to sue us," she said patiently. "Suing takes work. It takes years. It takes lawyers. It takes money upfront. You're a college student. You're in debt. Nothing we said is on the record, and nothing we said would make us liable for anything."
She leaned back, calm and unbothered. "We have the right to decline service. Just like any private organization. Frankly, your suggestion that inmates, convicts, and cam girls are somehow worse than you? If this were the court of public opinion, that would make you look worse. But as I said, this is never going to reach any kind of court."
She tilted her head. "So go ahead. Do your whole 'badmouth the business' stream thing. Like you did to Binary Systems Corporation. Like your friends did. See where it gets you. No one is going to want a student who'll put their college on blast. And no one is going to want to hire a cybernetics specialist who never completed her degree."
Karen had been getting madder and madder throughout the conversation. Now her patience reached a low ebb.
"So that's it? You want me to just roll over and play dead? You're going to roll over and spread your legs to anyone with a negative comment, just in case it affects your bottom line?" Karen was incredulous.
She took a step forward. "You really want me to believe that. And at the same time, you want me to believe you don't care that I have millions of followers?"
"Believe whatever you want to, sweetie," said the woman. "Just do it somewhere else. I have appointments. I'll need this office."
"You rancid—" Karen started.
She controlled herself. She left.
Outside the classroom, there was a bench. Sitting on that bench was a guy. His face looked genuinely affronted.
"I only heard the last couple minutes," he said. "But if you'd called her a cunt, I would've said she deserved it."