A Prince of Dissonance

Sonus System

In 2120, a sound engineer named Ricci von der Leyen accidentally invented the Sonus Reactor. This unstable music reactor harnessed the sun's power. Von der Leyen was part of the Alnilam Research Group—scientists dedicated to improving humanity’s chances in space. The history of the Sonus Reactor is not a fairy tale. Von der Leyen expresses the danger that she exposed herself just to gather magnetic dust from Jupiter’s storm or a piece of diamond from Saturn’s eternal rain of minerals—it was an intergalactic adventure. However, the reactor imploded, and its energy spread throughout Earth, giving people the power of music. The incident is known as the Sonus Fallout, and that event's effect changed the course of humanity for good.

Well, that is an insanely informative text. I close the Sonus University app as I return to the real world. Everyone in the class is quiet. Silence descends in the entire room, full of students who appear as if they all have something to say.

To my left are the windows—covered with gray curtains—closed because of the air-conditioning system. There were six columns of desks arranged semi-circularly descending on one side of the lecture stage. Each column contains six rows of desks.

The desks were made of lacquered birch—carved into their surface are scores of musical pieces, which hid under the lacquer. My desk has Für Elise cut on it. The Beethoven original is probably the most abused classical piece, which has become a staple of pop culture.

The floors are carpeted with crimson rugs, even under the desks. The most outstanding music university in the world can afford to cover every floor surface with fluffy, faux fur rugs. The pitch-black ceiling absorbs all the excessive light in the lecture room, bestowing it a theatrical ambiance—only the stage is lit, and the audience and the orchestra are in the dark.

As my gaze turns to my classmates, I notice a pattern in their outfits. A couple of students had long white sleeves, a triangular yellow cape, and black edges fixed by a green rose. Words are embroidered on the longer side of the isosceles, “Orden der Rosenritter.”

They must be first-year students from the Orden der Rosenritter department. What are they called again, squires? My gaze moves to an ebony-skinned girl and a blond boy who wore—what could be considered underwear. The girl is in a corset, overlaying a short cocktail dress with red bellows on its skirt—imitating a rose. The descending neckline of the boy’s white garment reveals his belly button and part of his left breast. A chest pocket carries a rose—freshly picked from somewhere. Are they from…that’s it…the Academy of Occult Songs, known for their progressive and otherworldly views on various aspects, especially pleasure.

Winged headbands—must be from the Valhallan Conservatory. The violin bows on their backs, as if it is a weapon like a sword—the School of String Theorists. Colorful jackets and various styles—the Studio of Pop. A robe resembling a sacristan’s robe—the School of Sacred Songs.

I look around the sea of faces—some looking forward to the board, others fixating on the screens of their iPad—only to find one familiar face behind me. Oh, it’s the sound engineering guy who helped me this morning.

He wore a formal long white sleeve with a golden and silver necktie—the one he wore this morning.

“Hey, remember me?” I whispered out to him, which he failed to hear. I crumpled a piece of paper and hurled it at his face. It landed on his desk, and now I got his full attention. “Remember me?” I whispered quietly but loud enough that he could hear my voice two seats apart. “It’s me, Ian. I can’t believe we are in the same class.”

“You’re the guy who forgot his ID card and went in late in the freshman orientation—how can I forget?” he says, soft enough to not disturb the room's quietness. “This is Music History. What do you—"

“Okay, class,” Antoine interrupts their conversation, “does anyone have thoughts about the text you just read?”

When Antoine dropped the last word, all hands were raised. Except for mine, which is totally embarrassing. Even Kyle raised his. Everybody has something to say to this Ricci girl.

“You,” Antoine pointed to Kyle.

“Ricci von der Leyen is a woman of unparalleled genius. She invented the machine that harnesses the sun's power while taking advantage of the vibrations that create music,” he stands up as he answers. “Ms. Von der Leven should be an inspiration to us all.”

Clamors begin to fill the lecture hall environment.

A girl in front answered by being called, “Ricci von der Leyen is smart, but she was too smart for her own good, too smart for everybody’s good. The effect of her experiments changed how humans lived. The Sonus Fallout caused the extinction of multiple animal and plant species. She is not a genius that should be admired. She is a genius that should be remembered for her genocidal tendencies.”

“Hear, hear,” students who agreed with her point murmured in the background.

“I disagree,” another girl at the back end replies. All eyes and chairs turned to her as she spoke. “While it is true that the Sonus Fallout caused the extinction of multiple organisms, the nuclear fallout and irresponsible and irreparable human actions before the Sonus Fallout contributed to their extinction. Ricci von der Leyen gave humanity another chance, another beacon of hope in a world destroyed by hate and discord. She gave us a song, a harmony we must always protect and cherish.”

“Hear, hear,” Timothy, along with others, said.

“’ A song? A harmony that we must always protect and cherish?’,” a boy who imitates a puking drunkard commands attention. “Humanity has always been the same—there is order and violence—but von der Leyen caused that balance to descend into chaos. With our Sonus Stones, criminals have supernatural powers that our law enforcement has a difficult time fighting against—”

“Criminal activity in our current time is irrelevant to Ricci von der Leyen’s legacy,” another boy interrupts him while speaking. “Crimes are a result of the state and society’s internal machinations. It is the current state’s fault that some people are driven to do bad things—”

“These criminals can possess the bodies of law enforcement and perform acts that harm the very shield that protects us from them, and you call it irrelevant?” the boy regains control.

“Our law enforcement has the same power. They can stop them.”

What began as a simple question-and-answer discussion turned into a heated debate. I looked from one side to the other side. There was a third side calling for the good while acknowledging the bad, but both vilified it. The scene of pro-von der Leyen and anti-von der Leyen debate is everywhere. It’s in the news—anchors representing the two sides debate what should be better—even the news networks themselves are on a particular side. The current parliament—is split between the pro-von der Leyen Harmony Party and the anti-von der Leyen Conservative Party.

If only I had some popcorn. I feel extreme amusement seeing people debate and fight—not in a wrong and evil way. I hate fights, but the one before me is worth watching. I hope someone raps like Boris Johnson, an early 21st-century prime minister of the United Kingdom—that would be a spectacle.