"Replace the 'wisdom' inside canned knowledge with music?"
"Grand Sage Idris, what do you mean by that?"
Both guests blinked, taken aback.
Idris had his answer ready. "The trafficking of canned knowledge persists despite bans. Sending Matra or city guards to make arrests helps, but only so much.
"In my view, the root is this: outside the Akademiya—aside from a handful of lucky merchants—most people aren't well-off. Canned knowledge is cheap, convenient, and profitable. That tempts many to take the crooked path.
"Others simply want to drown themselves in the illusion of 'borrowed wisdom' the cans provide.
"If we tackle that vector, both rainforest folk and the desert Eremites who come to Sumeru for work will have far fewer reasons to offend."
Dori nodded at once. "Exactly. The fastest ways to make money are all spelled out in the penal code. If there's a steady, legal profit, who wants to break the law?"
Alhaitham's gaze grew more intent. He'd taken this Grand Sage for another man aloof from the price of oil and rice. Instead, the man had blood in his veins—and an eye on people's lives.
Idris noted the change in Alhaitham's expression. Handled well, this lover of an easy life will make a very obedient minister; handled poorly, he'll be the Akademiya's biggest headache.
"As for Dori—yes, she's a rich merchant," he thought. "But she holds no office. Yesterday I dealt with the Corps and the Matra. Today is for these two."
Now that the premise was set, Alhaitham asked the natural question. "Then, Grand Sage, what does replacing the stored 'knowledge' with music have to do with curbing the trade?"
"Plenty. Look."
Idris slid open a drawer and set a modified canned-knowledge capsule on the desk beside a matched pair of earsets.
Dori and Alhaitham exchanged puzzled looks.
"Wear them," Idris said. "These aren't standard Akasha ear terminals."
"Oh?"
They each took a side and placed the earpieces on. Idris tapped a small switch on the canister.
A surge of spirited music filled their ears:
How many skies must I climb
to stand atop Qingyun's height?
…
Weigh the scales of the mortal world—
weal and woe, right and wrong, set forth in plain sight…
…
Ask gods, ask immortals—ask men, ask the heavens—
why does the human world crave the divine?
…
Beyond mountains lie more mountains, beyond skies, more sky—
watch me climb through heaven upon heaven!
After three minutes or so, Idris touched the switch again. Silence.
"Well? How does it sound?"
They came back to themselves and removed the earpieces. Alhaitham gave a small nod—approval. Dori's eyes sparkled.
"Grand Sage, what's the song called?"
"Ask the Gods."
"Ask the Gods, hmm? Bold title." Dori tilted her head. "When you say 'replace the knowledge with music,' you mean… with this song?"
Idris shook his head. "Not one song—over two hundred, all different."
"People's tastes vary, but these share one trait: they're good."
He tapped the canister. "If I encode all two hundred into a single can… what do you think?"
For once, both stayed silent—then looked at each other, genuinely surprised. A moment later, they nodded together.
"Grand Sage Idris," Alhaitham said, "I'd call that an excellent invention."
Dori chimed in, "Even leaving that track aside—if all two hundred are strong, the existence of this product could stamp out the market for contraband cans entirely."
Idris pressed on. "Then if I brand this can—two hundred songs in your pocket—as the Music Walkman—short name, MP3—"
"—and spin up a proper production line to sell it openly?"
Dori shot to her feet. "Brilliant, Grand Sage! Truly worthy of Sumeru's new Grand Sage—too clever by half!"
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