Excelsior (7 page)

“Well what?”

“Well, what'd you see?”

Matthew didn't answer. What was he supposed to say? That he was going to leave the galaxy – without a rocket or spacesuit? Talk about a trip!

“I would like to thank our lovely visitor, err, Dr. Sierra, for visiting us and experimenting on us, I mean, allowing us to take part in her experiment today. I hope she’ll return, that is, we hope she’ll come back, I mean…” Mr. Hayhurst’s ramblings were cut off by the bell. Students ambled out of the room, some animated, others lost in thought.

Mr. Hayhurst walked over to the windows and shut the blinds while Katherine packed up her device. His back still to Katherine, Mr. Hayhurst checked his breath again. “You can do this,” he whispered to his reflection.

Hayhurst straightened his shoulders. “Dr. Sierra?”

She cut him off with a smile that would have made his heart leap if it hadn't been racing already. “Please. Call me Katherine.”

Hayhurst did his best to keep from blushing. “Oh yes... Katherine. Um... I was wondering...” He tried to look her in the eye, but her shades were intimidating. Before he could stammer, he blurted out, “Would-you-care-to-have-a-drink-with-me-after-school-is-out?”

She cocked her head curiously. “Why, Mr. Hayhurst, are you flirting with me?”

Mr. Hayhurst forced a smile and commanded his head to nod up and down. His tongue seemed suddenly paralyzed.

Katherine took one step forward and put a hand on his necktie. Her fragrance invaded his nostrils and made him woozy. “Thank you, but you're too old for me. However, your request has lightened my day.” She then flashed him a smile that melted his kneecaps, picked up her briefcase, and walked out of his life.

Melvin Hayhurst fumbled for his chair before he fell. He giddily inhaled her scent on his tie when his next class of students walked in.

CHAPTER 4

“What the hell is this?”

The other post-graduate assistants looked up at the outburst.

“It's called a body, Teddy,” Carl Morton responded, not bothering to look up from entering data at his computer.

Melissa Morelli stopped typing and looked up at Theodore. “You've seen it before, Ted.” She looked back at her screen. “Carrying on for Daddy, are we?” she asked in an undertone. Carl stifled his laughter.

Theodore Richard Smails
III
turned around to face his fellow assistants. “How many times do I have to tell you? It's 'Theodore.' Not 'Teddy.' Not 'Ted.' 'Theodore!' And besides, in six months, to you it will be 'Dr. Smails.'”

Carl whispered to Melissa. “Oooh, scary.”

Dr. Ritgen finished writing some notes on his electronic clipboard and walked over to Theodore. “What do you see, Smails?”

Theodore straightened his shoulders and pointed to the body inside the chamber. “Well, Sir, yesterday when this body was brought in, there was only a shallow imprint of scales along the right arm. Now, it looks like there are scales covering both arms and they're even starting to show on the upper thighs.”

Dr. Ritgen walked over to the chamber and crouched down, his nose right up to the glass. His eyes widened and his smile grew wider. “Regeneration,” he said to himself. He then stood up and joyfully threw his arm around Theodore. His voice filled the room. “Do you know what this means?” Theodore turned pink but made no effort to step out of his mentor’s embrace.

Carl and Melissa looked up. Ritgen shook Theodore. “This means we have a chance to see what this body looks like in its original form! It's being regenerated!”

Ritgen pushed Theodore away and circled the preservation chamber, caressing the glass like a child getting his first video game system on Christmas morning.

“This is truly a tremendous scientific breakthrough, and I couldn't be prouder of all of you for your work. I will be taking it upon myself to make sure that you are recognized for everything you have done for me and for this project. This time I won’t forget you in my journal article.” Melissa and Carl exchanged looks.

Theodore ignored them. “I'll be sure to tell Dr. Sierra about this once she comes in.”

Ritgen pointed to Theodore. “You do just that, Theodore. Now if you'll all excuse me, I have a press release to complete.” He headed toward the door, mumbling to himself as his eyes lit up with opportunity. “Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce... Ritgen-Man!” The young scientists heard Ritgen’s babbling actually getting louder as he made his way down the hall.

Once out of earshot, Carl walked over to the chamber. He studied the specimen while Melissa picked up a black piece of paper and folded it into a narrow strip.

“What’s that in its hand?” asked Carl. Melissa walked over to look.

“I can’t tell,” she said. “Maybe we should summon…” she held the strip of paper over her eyes, “…Dr. Sierra!"

“Stop it,” Theodore barked. Carl snorted with laughter.

Melissa pouted as she lowered the paper. “Something you want to tell me, Teddy Bear?”

“That's not funny.”

“You're right,” she answered. “I should have said it with an English accent. Or is it South African? Dutch? I can never tell.”

“Stop clowning around and act like scientists! How dare you mock Dr. Sierra! At least she is respectful enough to call me THEODORE!”

Melissa pointed her paper at her snippy colleague. “I’ve got news for you, she barely knows you’re alive, Theodore. The only man she has time for is Ritgen.” Melissa turned to Carl. “So now he has the Ritgen-Man to go along with the Ritgen Sword? What's next, his own brand of cologne in every department store?”

“It’ll be called Ritgen. You'll smell like you just spent ten days digging at a site in the
Negev
,” laughed Carl.

“Stop that! Dr. Ritgen is a brilliant scientist. Without him and Dr. Sierra, we wouldn't be where we are now.”

“And just where is that, Ted? Working overtime while Madame Cyclops and Doc Napoleon get all the credit?”

“He just said he’s giving us credit! And she has a name, you know. Dr. Katherine Sierra.”

“Sounds like you want to be Dr. Theodore Sierra,” Melissa laughed.

“Totally whipped,” Carl agreed.

“Do you even realize how much she has you wrapped around her finger? Like she does with every other man here?” Melissa asked.

Carl cleared his throat. “I'm gay.”

Melissa corrected herself. “Excuse me. ALMOST every other man here.”

She tossed the paper strip in the trash and sat back down at her station. “You know, we still don't know the name of the member of the excavation team that actually found the sword a decade ago?”

“Did it ever occur to you that the team member who found it would rather not have his or her name revealed to the press? Maybe that person is thinking of the good of the entire team and not just himself.”

Melissa cut him off. “Your nose is way too brown for my tastes, you know that? Ritgen got the credit for the sword because he was in the position to take it. Did it ever occur to YOU that the team in
Greenland
that discovered this specimen might not be aware of Ritgen about to take credit for it because they're too busy doing their job?”

“They did amazing work bringing out this body intact,” agreed Carl looking down at it in wonder. He knelt down to get a better look at the scales running up and down the thing’s arms and his colleagues voices faded into the background. Was it his imagination or was the left hand the most life-like? And the thing in the specimen’s hand ... was it beginning to glow?

*   *   *

“Matthew, that was a wonderful performance.” Matthew’s unexpected participation in class brought a giddy tone of voice to Mrs. Webb that lasted throughout the whole class. “I've never heard a student read from Le Morte d'Arthur with that much passion.”

Matthew shrugged his shoulders as he smiled at her. He couldn’t tell her that at the moment he’d do anything to stop the video loop in his head from the Virtual Future device – even participate. She briefly touched his arm and as he struggled not to turn pink, he wondered for a second if he seemed like as big a dork as Mr. Hayhurst. Mrs. Webb was hot. She always reminded him of a
California
surfer chick with her short, sun-streaked hair and endless legs.

“Arthur has always been a favorite of mine.” His voice cracked as he looked down to study the laces on his sneakers so his face wouldn’t betray him.

Mrs. Webb nodded. “I'm sure it helped you out a lot with your comics. You're still keeping up with them, right?”

Matthew nodded, his color returning to normal by his excitement. “Oh yeah. In fact, my readership jumped almost overnight to more than 5,000.”

“Excellent! High five!” Matthew almost jumped back from the offered hand, then recovered with a resounding smack.

“I'm so glad you stuck with these characters all year.” Mrs. Webb unobtrusively rubbed her hand as she turned back to her desk. Matthew caught the motion and winced.

“You know, I'm ready to give you the final grade for the year,” she said sitting down.

Those words immediately filled Matthew with more tension than anticipating his meeting with Dr. Sierra.

“Oh?” Matthew asked.

“I'm sure you know that those who get an 85 or higher are exempt from the final exam. I was going to show everyone their grades tomorrow, but since you're here and did so well in class today, I thought I’d give you an early opportunity to see yours.”

Matthew's eyes widened. “Wow. Thanks.”

Mrs. Webb positioned two pieces of paper above and below Matthew's grade and showed him the magic number. Matthew took a deep breath to prepare and looked down at the grade book.

83.

Two points short. Matthew knew Mrs. Webb could see the light in his eyes start to dim. He looked up and stared off into space, taking stock in all of the different homework assignments he had half-assed during the year.

“Hmmm,” she said as he looked back down, hoping upon closer inspection those numbers would transform into something a little bit higher. “You know Matthew, the final exam is really to make sure that my students have a certain range of ability. I know that in spite of this grade, you already mastered the skills I’ve taught in this class.”

Matthew hung on her words. So?

“So let's say I'll give you a little bit of,” she paused and bit her lip, “let’s call it... Excelsior Extra Credit.”

“Excelsior Extra Credit?” Matthew repeated not sure he heard her correctly.

Mrs. Webb treated him to a brilliant smile. “And it just so happens that Excelsior Extra Credit counts for two points on your final grade.”

Matthew was saved from the final exam.

The light in Matthew's eyes returned brighter than ever. “Is this what it feels like to get paid for your work?”

Mrs. Webb let out a laugh that made Matthew’s stomach feel like jelly. “It is, yes.” She put her hand on Matthew's, and he could feel warmth racing from his cheeks to fill the rest of his body. “A student of your caliber comes along only once in a while, Matthew. It’s not often I have a pupil whose interests go beyond the classroom. I can tell you're going to do wonderful things when you leave this school.”

Unexpectedly, the Virtual Future images returned with a vengeance.

“Thanks, Mrs. Webb,” was all he could say. He was torn between basking in the moment and finally getting answers from the strange woman with the shades.

“You deserve it, Matthew. I believe you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Thanks. I’ll remember that.” He slowly pointed to the door. “I’d better go.”

Mrs. Webb laughed again. “Of course. See you tomorrow.”

He could feel her eyes on him as he walked out the door toward the answers he was seeking. Somehow, it gave him courage.

*   *   *

Katherine was sitting by herself in the cafeteria, facing the wall in a corner of the room, isolated. Passing students glanced at her curiously for an instant then walked on.

Although his Con-Airs made no sound, as soon as Matthew walked in Katherine turned around. He could hear a motherly warmth in her voice as she spoke.

“It’s a pleasure to see you, Matthew.” She shook Matthew's hand and motioned to the seat across from her.

As he slid into a chair, he saw Katherine cock her head slightly. “You seem a lot happier now than when you were in class. Has something happened?”

“Well, I just found out that I'm exempt from taking my English final. My teacher's very supportive of my writing.”

“Interesting,” Katherine replied, not offering more.

Matthew quickly changed the subject.

“That box wired up to the goggles, what does it show you?”

“It shows me your neural readings similar to what doctors see in a SPECT scan, as well as a pictographic representation of your sensory stimulation.”

“What the hell does all that mean?”

“Well, in a manner of speaking, I saw what you were experiencing.”