Reality Matrix Effect (9781310151330) by Laura Remson Mitchell Read Free Book Online Page A

to a fourth-floor apartment.
     
     

Chapter 3: History Lesson
     “ All
right, now,” Rayna said, “settle down. The weekend’s
over.”
    The subtle changes she’d been noticing in the
classroom continued to trouble her. She’d always related well to
her students. She liked them, and they knew it. Their high spirits
were contagious, investing each day with a magic sense that all
things were possible. If the students got a bit unruly
sometimes....  Well, that went with the adolescent territory.
Lately, however, the character of that unruliness seemed different.
Less benign. Even ominous somehow. She furrowed her brow in
concentration, then gave her head a quick shake.
    “Alana,” she said sharply to a student who
was bouncing to a privately heard rhythm, “turn off your M-link.
This is a class in history, not music.”
    Gradually, the bustle of activity and the
buzz of youthful voices diminished. An intense-looking 16-year-old
seated before one of the 20 desk-top computer terminals in the
classroom made a special effort to look away from the keyboard as
he began typing stealthily.
    “Rick, you can either cancel that note you’re
writing  now or else wait for me to put it on ‘demo’ for
everybody to share.”
    “I don’t think Karin would like that much,
Miss Kingman,” one of the other boys yelled.
    Red-faced, Karin tried to sink into the floor
as she and Rick exchanged embarrassed glances.
    Rayna’s mouth formed the merest hint of a
smile as she waited for the wave of student laughter to
subside.
    “Oh, yes. Before we go on, I want to remind
you that you have a homework assignment due tomorrow.”
    “We can just submit this one electronically,
can’t we?” someone asked. “We don’t have to print it out like last
time?”
    Rayna nodded. “Electronic submission is fine.
Just make sure you do the work. I’m sorry to say, it seems you
people are getting a little forgetful—or is it lazy?  Ten—no,
12—of you are missing at least one assignment in the past three
weeks,” she said, consulting the class records displayed on the
computer terminal adjacent to her desk. “That’s just not like you.
And as for the assignments you are turning in.... 
    She removed a sheaf of papers from a desk
drawer and waved it wordlessly before her students, studying their
faces. When the papers were in just the right place, she loosened
her grip, allowing the paper-clipped bundle to land on the desk
with a soft “plop.”
    “This,” she gestured at the papers, “was
supposed to be an essay on the Rebirth period. It was supposed to
show some original thinking. It was not supposed to be a printout
of your favorite encyclopedia article on the subject!  Three
of you tried to get away with that. And—let’s see. Umm, five others
used verbatim quotes for part of their essays.”
    “But you said we could quote from other
sources,” Linda complained.
    “True. But not without acknowledging your
source. It’s all right to say, ‘The Rebirth was the most
significant turning point in the history of human relations,’
according to the Scholar’s World Encyclopedia. It’s not all right
to say the same thing using the encyclopedia’s words but pretending
the words are yours!”
    Linda frowned and bowed her head in an
indignant huff. Every few seconds, she would glance up
surreptitiously from beneath long, dark lashes. Rayna could almost
feel the heat of Linda’s gaze boring into her back as she turned
toward the other side of the room.
    “Even those of you who weren’t guilty of
plagiarism didn’t seem to take this assignment very seriously.”
    The only sound in the room was the uneasy
shifting of 20 student rumps as they moved nervously against their
chairs.
    “Emilio, you usually do such good work. Why
just copy?  You know this material.”  Emilio shrugged,
and Rayna’s glance darted from face to face around the hushed
classroom. “You all know the material. I expected more from you
than a summary of