Mr. Coar, principal of Tech, walked toward the door to the physics classroom, rehearsing the speech he was going to deliver upon Tedder. "Young man, Tech does not approve of the practice of letting students out into the halls before the end of the period. Their racket has shaken the walls of classrooms on three floors. What have you to say for yourself, Mr. Tedder?" Yes, that would do nicely. Mr. Coar opened the door. * * * * * Mr. Tedder was leaning against a front-row desk, nodding appreciatively as a sketchily-clad young lady danced for him. "TEDDER!" the principal bellowed. "Stop that!" Honey LaRue faded, and the space between telegraph key and lithium battery was empty again. "Stop what?" Mr. Tedder inquired, wide-eyed with innocence. "Stop letting your classes out early so that you can spend your time gloating over your ... your ..." Mr. Coar groped for a stinging adjective, drew a blank, and concluded weakly, "... your movies!" "Did you see her, too?" "I did, indeed. You came here highly recommended by Indiana University, Tedder; and, frankly, I didn't expect this sort of thing from you." "Mr. Coar, I believe that I've stumbled across a novel physical phenomenon." "Anatomy was being studied in 1600 A.D., young man," Mr. Coar observed, his voice dripping sarcasm, "and is scarcely any longer a 'novel physical phenomenon'." "Sit down, sir." Mr. Tedder offered the principal the top of a desk in the front row. "Now, what did you expect to see when you came in here?" "The apparatus of a physics laboratory--all those gears and coils and tubes and ... things," Mr. Coar vaguely enumerated. "Certainly not a...." The principal sat heavily on the desk top, bulge-eyed. On the marble top of the demonstration bench was a Goldberg-esque network of machinery, a perfect reproduction of the principal's uncertain notions concerning scientific gadgetry. "How the devil did you do that, Tedder?" "People have been asking me all morning. I don't know. I don't think that I did do it." "Has that girl ..." Honey LaRue reappeared on the bench, and the air vibrated with the drums' seductive roll "... been here before?" "Yes, sir. Couple of boys in my class saw her, too." "Where are they now?" Mr. Tedder glanced up at the clock. "It's second period by now. Stetzel is in Latin III, I believe; and Guenther's in Microbiology II." Mr. Coar went over to the loudspeaker in the corner of the room, pressed a button, and spoke to his secretary, up in the school office. "Ann, send me students Guenther and Stetzel. Rooms 103 and 309." He switched the blat-box off. He turned toward the empty demonstration bench, wrinkled his forehead in concentration, and looked up. A pot of geraniums was standing on the marble bench-top. "Whew! It knows what I'm thinking about!" "Looks that way, doesn't it." "But nothing can do that. Not electricity, nor electronics, nor even cybernetics."