Chapter Eight
Interlude: Eye Catch 2
Background Theme: I Know What You Are Up To
I awoke to the feeling of a damp tapping on my forehead. As I opened my eyes, the sound of falling
rain hitting the ground and filtering through the branches above me began to
fill my ears. A brief flash of light
illuminated the clouds above the bay in the distance, followed a moment later
by the crash of thunder. Momentarily
disoriented, I looked around at my surroundings. My last memory had been of falling asleep on the bus as it rode
on to Nerima. Now I found myself once
again under the Tree. I had reasonable
shelter from the rain, but that wouldn't last very long under the onslaught of
the sudden thunderstorm. Quickly
gathering my things, I jumped up and made a dash for the Library.
The library sat foursquare along the
northwestern corner of the campus. Huge
tinted windows that almost spanned the library's two stories offset the
blinding white color of the building.
Thrusting upward from slightly behind the top center, the university's
clock tower stood majestically, displaying blue clock faces with white hands
and numerals in each of the directions of the four corners of the earth. I made note of the time as I ran up the
slightly ramped incline, walled on each side, leading to the main
entrance. Reaching the shelter of the
entrance alcove, I pulled out my watch.
Mario glinted briefly into view as I turned the watch at an angle. When he vanished out of sight, I saw that
the watch still worked. It read, "3:23."
Looking out across at the campus from
where I stood, safe from further barrage by raindrops, I took in the familiar
surroundings as I thought back to the seaside cliff where I had witnessed a
fantasy world come to life. I felt the
sting of disappointment cut through me.
It had been a dream.
It had felt so real.
"Damn," I said quietly to myself under my
breath. It was just starting to get interesting.
I sighed, adjusting my books in my hands,
and turned toward one of the entrance doors.
Stepping onto the triggering plate, the door slid open with a slight
whir of motors as the relays engaged. I
felt a slight wave of cold air pass over me from within the library lobby's
air-conditioned interior. I stepped
through the doorway and was completely engulfed by the chilly atmosphere,
compounded in its drop in temperature by my slightly rainsoaked state.
The lobby was wide and spacious, a high
vaulted ceiling towering overhead. To
my left was a glass wall divided horizontally halfway up by the library's
second floor. Lined up along the bottom
of the wall were several coin-operated photocopy machines. Beyond them through the glass wall I could
see rows of bookshelves displaying magazines
and Periodic Reference Guides.
Furthest away from me was a row of microfilm and microfiche
stations. Along the opposite side of
the glass wall were desk cubicles housing Internet-linked computer systems.
A short set of stairs lay at either end
of the glass wall, leading to the lower level of the library. Next to these stairs was another set
climbing to the second floor. The
library was two-story, but the lobby
floor was inset some five feet above the first floor.
To my right was an area blocked off by a
counter that extended into the lobby about ten feet and partitioned off a
section of the lobby about twenty feet along the right wall. This was the Checkout Counter/Reference
Desk/alternate business register area.
Behind me, to my left, was the handicapped elevator. Three rotating tower book display units were
spaced evenly in the center of the lobby.
I crossed the lobby to the far set of
ascending stairs, taking them to the second floor. Reaching the top, I took several steps forward, bringing me to
the tinted glass windows at the rear of the library. I gazed out across the northern part of the campus and beyond to
the bay. Immediately behind the library
was a large parking lot, beyond that a two-lane road that bisected the rear
quarter of the university campus.
Another parking lot, edged on the far end by covered stone tables, lay
further on, with grassy patches of ground that gradually gave way to a thin
strip of beach. To the northeast stood
the wooden structure of the university's open-air amphitheater. The stage was set up as an almost-perfect Theater-in-the- Round. Diased seats rising up ten rows surrounded
the twenty-feet diameter stage floor completely, save for small entrances at
opposite ends and a quarter of the arc along the beach itself where the stage
jutted out slightly over the water. One
false step out there and into the drink you would go.
The
clouds had gathered further in intensity and the downpour had increased
drastically in the few minutes since I had left the Tree. In the parking lot below, the occasional car
began pulling out of its parking space and exited the lot onto the two-lane
road. Students unfortunate enough to be
caught outside were running for cover, seeking safety from the elements under
building overhangs or in their own cars.
One poor fool strode calmly to his motorcycle. A well-worn leather jacket appeared to be his only protection
from the rain. He donned his red
motorcycle helmet, climbed aboard his bike, and brought it roaring to
life. I could barely hear the revving
of the small yet powerful engine as the hapless driver pulled out of the
parking area and drove off, passing beyond the wooden amphitheater and toward
the highway that bordered the campus' East Side.
Looking over my left shoulder, I surveyed
the floor. Bookshelves lined the far
left wall, extending up to a drop ceiling covering about a third of the
floor. A small reading area was set up
on the far side of the bookshelves with couches and several small tables. Smaller bookshelves standing about four feet
high covered the second third of the floor along the center. Most of the Reference section was shelved
here. The final third of the floor,
that closest to me, was furnished with several large wooden tables in two rows,
each with four to six hard wooden chairs surrounding it. On the opposite end of this row of study
tables was a door leading to a small room intended for quiet study. This was my destination. Walking silently toward the door, I noticed
several students seated at a few of the tables, absorbed in their varied studies
with mixed interest. My trek across the
floor to the other side earned me one or two spared glances before returning to
their studying. Continuing on, I
reached the wooden door; regarding the "Quiet Study" sign on the door, I peeked
through the small window inset in it, grasped the doorknob, and opened the
door. It swung quietly open on
well-oiled hinges. Stepping inside, I
noticed the small room was empty of any other occupants. I closed the door behind me.
In the center of the room were eight desk
cubicles, two rows of four facing each other with a divider separating each
desk. Along the two interior walls were
long, low couches often utilized by napping students. Temptation was calling to me to indulge myself as well, but I had
homework to attend to. Perhaps
later. The two exterior walls that
formed this corner of the floor were again composed of the translucent, tinted
glass that made up the rest of the windows.
Walking to a cubicle on the far end, I set my things down with a
slightly dull thwap. Hooking the chair with my arm, I dragged it
out toward me and slowly sat down. I
paused a second, then pulled out my World Literature folder and withdrew the
homework assignment Dr. Encio had handed out.
My eyebrows shot up in surprise as I read
the single line of text centered across the top quarter of the page:
"Relate,
from your own experiences, circumstances you would alter or correct if you had
the means of implementing your own Deux Machine."
Oh,
boy…
