Free A Learning Experience 2: Hard Lessons by Christopher G. Nuttall Page B

successfully.”
     
    “I feel sweaty,” Martin said.  “Is that normal?”
     
    “Yes,” SMOKEY said.  “You will require a shower before you return to your barracks.”
     
    Martin swallowed.  “I ... I haven’t wet myself, have I?”
     
    “No,” the AI said.  “Now, pay attention.  These are the first lessons you must learn.”
     
    The implant user interface seemed to spring up in front of his eyes.  Martin stared at it, then listened carefully as SMOKEY instructed him how to merge his thoughts into the interface and take control of his implants.  The AI was a far more patient teacher than anyone he’d known on Earth, he decided, after the third set of mistakes.  It made him staggeringly angry to realise just how much had been denied to the children of Earth, purely because their teachers were scared of losing their jobs.  What would he have become if he’d had a teacher as patient as the AI when he’d been a child?
     
    It grew worse as the AI showed him how to draw information from the datanet.  “Everything is catalogued in the official encyclopaedias,” SMOKEY informed him.  The torrent of information was mind-blowing.  “You will need to be careful, however, with information from the wide-ranging datanet.  Not all of it is reliable.”
     
    Martin blinked.  “Why not?”
     
    “Everyone with a set of implants can create a website on the datanet,” SMOKEY said.  There was a hint of amusement in its tone.  “They can say anything they like, as long as it doesn't contravene libel and slander laws.  They could even tell you that the correct way to address your Drill Sergeant is Hey, Fatty !”
     
    “I think Sergeant Bass would kill anyone who addressed him like that,” Martin said.  “How do you check what you’re being told?”
     
    “Carefully,” SMOKEY said.
     
    There was a hint of a shrug.  “You have an unregistered email account for messages, but you will be under standard communications restriction until you pass the first set of tests,” the AI added.  “Once you complete those tests, you will be able to send messages anywhere within human space, free of charge.  You may even write back to your family, if you wish.”
     
    “Not fucking likely,” Martin muttered.
     
    “You may also look for pen-friends online,” SMOKEY said.  “However, please be aware that anyone can present themselves as anyone on the datanet.  The only way to confirm someone’s ID is to use a registered account.  There’s a ten-dollar fee for establishing such an account and verifying your identity, but it is often worth it in the long run.”
     
    “Because the hot little honey you’ve been talking to online might actually be a fat forty-year-old man,” Martin guessed.
     
    “Correct,” SMOKEY said.  “And because it also strengthens your online reputation.  You gain additional credit for speaking under your own name.”
     
    “I see, I think,” Martin said.
     
    “Spamming the datanet and/or uploading viral infection files will result in harsh penalties,” SMOKEY warned.  “You may also be called upon to prove any potentially libellous statements you make online.  Failing to do so may also mean harsh penalties.”
     
    There was a pause.  “And now the next set of functions ...”
     
    It felt like hours before SMOKEY finally finished telling him everything his implants could do.  Martin felt tired, yet somehow as active as always; the sensation was so strange he was half-convinced he was enduring a very lurid dream.  But he also felt angry at just how much had been denied to him on Earth.  How many hours had he wasted trying to memorise some useless fact or enduring pointless lectures on social justice?  And would he have given up on school so completely if the teachers had made it enjoyable?
     
    “You will hear from me again,” SMOKEY promised.  “But I won’t be doing your homework for you.”
     
    “Of course not,” Martin said.  “I ... how do