Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative
Subject: As it Fell Upon A Day: Part 8
Message-ID: <1ke0udINN2qt@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu>
From: aa811@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Terri M. Librande)
Date: 30 Jan 1993 13:47:57 GMT
Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, Ohio (USA)
NNTP-Posting-Host: slc5.ins.cwru.edu
Lines: 91


Monday.  With a shaking feeling, Sam woke to find the sun hitting him
squarely in the eyes.  He'd set the alarm for seven a.m., per the 
schedule Dr. Barry had written on the kitchen calendar.  There was one
class he had to teach this morning--from 10:45 to 11:45.  Then, at
twelve...

With an effort, Sam forced the events of the future to the back of his
mind.  It wouldn't produce the right effect to act out of sorts this
morning.  The real Dr. Barry wouldn't know that four students would be
dead by the end of the day, and others wounded.

He dressed and drove to the campus.  Food was the least of the things on
his mind, but he managed toast and a sip of coffee as he drove.  His
stomach threatened to reject even that as he passed throught the campus 
gate under the scrutiny of the Guard.

Classrooms had a calming effect on his system.  He'd spent  most of his
life in schools and felt more at home in them than anywhere while leaping.
According to the schedule chart in the main building he was teaching in
Johnson Hall, Room 112.

The classroom was empty at the hour he arrived.  There were students around,
going to other classes, some giving him friendly nods, some indifference.
He caught snatches of conversation about the rally planned for noon, and
had to fight to keep himself rom discouraging it.

He closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment.  The gas
from the night before still seemed to be with him.  The stinging odor of
it permeated his senses, his eyes still tearing, his chest heavy and tight.

The Imaging Chamber door opened and Al appeared, walking through desks.
"You look like hell, Sam."

"It's nothing."  Sam ducked his head and went to his desk, taking a seat
behind it.  So normal, all this, except for the man moving through furniture
"I had to check out the lesson plan."

"I see."  Al kept one eye on Sam and the other on the link.  "No class for a
couple of hours."

"What am I supposed to do, Al?"  Tight-lipped, Sam glared at his friend.
"I can't stay home all day and sit on my hands, can I?"

"Ziggy is gathering information about what Dr. Barry's role in this is."

"And what has he found out?"  There was the slightest hint of impatience in
Sam's voice.

"Nothing he's divulging yet.  He's waiting to see what you do."

"You say I actually programmed this computer?"

"Well, you and Gooshie."  Al scratched nervously at his ear.  "He's still
saying you can
can't change the Event."


"The only way I'd mess things up is by finding out the names of the dead
students and warning them one by one."  By the look on Al's face, it
would be a cold day in Hell before he could wring their identities out of 
him.  "As it stands, I'm scheduled to teach a philosophy class in an hour
and forty-five minutes.  What about Artie?"

"Oh, he's a key player in this leap, Sam.  Something happens between now
and after the shootings that will create a turning point in his life."  Al
knew Sam was listening, even though his head was bent over the lesson plan
on the desk.

"Something tells me you aren't using Dr. Barry's lesson plan."  Uneasily,
Al moved behind Sam to glance at the papers in front of him.  The page of
notes on the desk top were in Sam's almost illegible scrawl.

"Go ahead."  Sam's look was serious.  "That's my lesson plan, Al."

The students started coming in for class at 10:30.  He gazed at Artie as he
entered the room.  The boy looked as if he'd been beaten, but he managed a
slow smile for the professor.  The room was full within minutes. Sam picked
up some of the conversation around him, realizing nearly everything was
centering on the rally at noon.

Work assignments from Dr. Barry's last session were passed forward and
Sam leaned back on the desk to survey his students.  Slowly, his eyes 
covered the room.  Some of the kids looked disinterested, distracted, or
simply scared.  It was time to start class.

more to come...
-- 
"Unscrupulous--but effective!"  Al in "Starcrossed"
Terri Librande aa811@cleveland.Freenet.edu  Assistant Sysop
The Science Fiction and Fantasy Sig--Go SCIFI