Stormfuhrer by E. R. Everett Read Free Book Online Page A

fully lit.  He and his students had been there the whole time.
    “Mr. Hayes if I could speak with you for a moment.”
    “ Sure.”
    “ These students have no respect for authority.  Why do they sleep so much?  Do they not sleep at home?  Aren't they given curfews?”
    “ Hm.”  Hayes stood at his door, non-committal.  He smiled as the next group of students shuffled past him, some smiling back, others ignoring him completely.
    Farash related more of the situation to Richard.  Hayes, despite his best intentions, broke out into a grin, staring at the floor and shaking with suppressed laughter.
    Farash now smiled broadly and sadly, showing bone-white teeth and dark gums above his bleached-white button-up long-sleeved shirt.  “It is funny, do you not think so, sir?  I have barely had them a month and they sleep in my class like zombies.”  Hayes shook his head in condolement but said nothing.  He was distracted by an idea and, in reality, barely heard the man.  Farash sighed and walked back into his room, shutting the door with some force; it was now his conference period.  Hayes felt a twinge of guilt, but experience had taught him that whatever advice he chose to give Farash, the man would never implement any changes in his teaching style.  In the few years he had known Farash, giving both encouragement and detailed critiques were equally pointless.
     
    Later that day, Farash returned.  The room was dark again.  This time, the room was unlocked.  There was the barely audible sound of typing coming from some boxes, silence from others, as he entered.  Muffled as it was, the typing sounded almost inaudible, like distant rain tapping on a flat pane of glass.  Only specks of stars pierced the window that had apparently been painted over from the inside. Outside there was full daylight.
    Hayes was sitting at his desk near the window on the far side of the room.  He had a reading light attached to a hardcover book and seemed engrossed, not noticing the entry of the instructor.
    “Where are your students?”  Farash asked from the middle of the room.  He had thought that Hayes was alone in the room.  Hayes looked up.  Perhaps Farash was upset about earlier this morning--Richard’s laughter and perhaps the fact that he hadn’t answered his frantic knock the period before that. 
    “ In those boxes.” Hayes said and glanced back at the novel.
    Farhat Farash’s eyes were starting to acclimate to the dim room.  Some tiny hints of light peered from the base of some of the boxes in intervals, probably from the LEDs embedded in small, black boxes from which wires also trailed and snaked throughout the room along the sides of the walkways, leading ultimately to about a dozen newly-placed sockets along the walls.  Some light from the students’ monitors might also be seen escaping from the other side of the boxes but not from this side of the room.  From this side it was like being in a dark warehouse.
    Farash turned to look at the boxes, sitting down on the desk next to Hayes, looking at him with the most apparent question mark that he could muster.  Hayes said nothing.  They sat quietly, both listening to the drone of the aircon and light tapping, which Farash could now hear. 
    After some moments, a cry could be heard.  It was as if a student in one of the closer boxes was laughing or crying or perhaps both at the same time.  The sound stopped and typing continued.  Then another laugh—or cry.
    Hayes left his desk and motioned for Farash to join him beside the box from whence the curious sound had come.  He pushed the black felt to the side, exposing a female wearing a headset, completely immersed in what was happening on the screen though nothing really seemed to be happening.  Actually, it was difficult to tell from this angle what the screen held.  It wasn’t the Aris MindMage program.  That was certain.
    As Farash tried to figure out what the student was looking at, the student