[Celuien]

After an hour long adventure of being directed and redirected to every building on campus (it seemed that Sales and Marketing in a Futile System had been moved several times), Panakeia found the correct classroom. She stepped inside the classroom, and finding that all of the seats in the back of the room were taken, sat at a desk in the front row. The student next to her, a girl with long dark curls framing a tired face that was pale from too many hours under fluorescent lighting, had an ominously thick pile of notes on her desk. Under the desktop she was playing a round of Solitare. Panakeia chuckled. Her neighbor looked up and smiled, brown eyes twinkling.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Nichole, with an aitch. Most people want to spell it n-i-c-o-l-e, but I don't. I rather like the aitches. Are you looking forward to this class?"

Panakeia introduced herself. "Well, Nichole with an aitch, it's nice to meet you. I'm not really looking forward to this course, but it's all I could get." Panakeia continued to study her neighbor, amusement increasing every moment. Nichole seemed to have no fashion sense, or if she did, it wasn't in Panakeia's style. She wore a plain brown skirt with a blue sweater, blue suede boots, and hardly a trace of makeup.

Nichole nodded. "I know exactly what you mean. I'm only here because I couldn't register for my physics class. At least Sales and Marketing in a Futile System is supposed to be easy. Terribly, terribly dull, but easy." Nichole gestured at the stack of papers on her desk. "Notes from last semester, taken by a friend of mine. Would you believe it? He wrote a 50 page paper that basically said the same thing on every page and got an A plus for originality and creativity." She broke into laughter. "But that's what lectures are like too, or so I hear. And so these notes seem to indicate."

Panakeia smiled in a friendly manner. "You know, I've never taken a class before. Any tips?"

"Try to look interested. Write as much as possible in your notebook, even if you don't actually write notes all the time. You'll need some notes to study, but in this class, I'm guessing you can get everything you need in the first 30 seconds. After that, it's all about looking enthusiastic about the lecture for the next hour so the professor doesn't wind up annoyed, if that makes any sense."

It didn't, but further discussion was interrupted by the entrance of the professor, an imposing troll in blue jeans and a Hawaiian shirt. He lumbered into the room and set a briefcase, bulging with papers, on the desk at the front of the room. Then he cleared his throat and, picking up a piece of chalk, turned to face the blackboard.

"Sales and marketing are dead," he droned in a monotone. "The system is futile because it has no point; therefore and thusly, it is pointless to sell or market anything in the futile system that is pointless." Panakeia glanced at Nichole’s notebook. She had scribbled "sales/marketing = dead" at the top of the sheet. That appeared to be the end of her notes. The rest of the page was occupied by sketches, including one of a troll lecturing to rows of stick figures that had collapsed on the ground. The troll droned on while Nichole began a scrawl from right to left in runes Panakeia didn't recognize. "Why, may I ask, is the futile system futile?" Without waiting for an answer from the class, he went on. "It is because sales and marketing are pointless when no one wants to buy. No one wants to buy because no one is interested in a futile system."

Panakeia decided she’d had enough. "That's just not true," she cried. "Why, I’ve been selling things to people for almost 30 years now. They buy, believe me they do. You just have to make them think they need what you have to sell. That's the trick. I can sell anything just by making the buyers believe it’s what they need. I make a fairly good living at it too, by the way, so I must be doing something right. Futile, my foot."

The professor focused a dull eye on her. No one had dared to challenge his authority before. "Class, this is someone who thinks that experience in the market outweighs the theories taught here. What is your name?" Panakeia proudly identified herself. "We all know that your statement about the market is not true. It is not true because the system is futile. And why is it futile? Because it is pointless."

Panakeia interrupted. "Oh please. Just stop. I must have heard that same redundant, say-nothing statement 30 times in the past 5 minutes. And you're flat out wrong. I have the Trolls and sales record to prove it."

The professor looked at her in disbelief. "Did I hear you say that I am wrong?" Panakeia shouted out in the affirmative. "That is what I thought I heard. You fail the course. That is the price of your challenge." He turned impassively to continue the lecture.

A new voice unexpectedly entered the debate. "That's just not fair," Nichole protested. "You haven't even given her a chance to prove her point or turn in assignments or anything." Panakeia couldn’t believe her ears. Someone she had met no more than 10 minutes ago was coming to her defense?

The professor gave his attention to Panakeia's new friend. "She is arguing with me. I am infallible in my classroom, so Panakeia must be wrong. If she is wrong, then I am right, and if I am right she is wrong. She has nothing to learn here and therefore will fail."

Nichole wasn't ready to give up the fight. "But what if Panakeia proves that she's right? What if she makes a great sales demonstration? You'd pass her then, wouldn't you?"

"If Panakeia can prove that I am wrong when I know that I am right, she will receive an A. If and only if she manages this feat, her grade will be changed. That will be all for now." He packed the chalk into his briefcase and stalked out of the room.

Panakeia looked at Nichole, still amazed at what had transpired. "Thank you," she said. Then she asked, "Why did you help me?"

Nichole replied eagerly, "I've been waiting for years for someone to stand up to nonsense like that. And do you know what? I wish I had the courage to do what you did just now. It was beautiful, and I've never enjoyed a scene in class so much in my life. I couldn't leave you out to dry, so I spoke up too." She shook Panakeia's hand. "You, Panakeia of Harad, are my hero." She paused. "But can you do it? Will you be able to make your sales pitch?"

"I'll have to." Then, in a confident voice, Panakeia said, "Yes, I think I can. I know I can." She stood and put her hand on the door to leave. Nichole followed. "But I'll have to make plans. Here's what I'm going to do." Panakeia quickly outlined her ideas. Nichole listened in delight. If the plan worked, the professor would surely have grant the promised A.