Jeremy, an overly sensitive college student at Ball State University, keeps having nightmares about a mysterious woman. In two short weeks he is besieged by visions about this young woman. She is dressed in clothing reminiscent of the 1970's. One day when entering the fine arts building on campus, Jeremy has a strange feeling someone is standing next to him but sees no one. He feels a slight breeze brush past his cheek but there are no open doors or windows nearby. Out of the corner of his eye he thinks he sees the woman but when he turns to look there is nothing. He goes upstairs to writing class but can't get the incident out of his mind. The very next day as he enters the building for class the same thing happens, only this time he feels someone holding his hands. He is scared witless but allows himself to be led around the room. Other students who are entering and leaving the building stop and stare transfixed as Jeremy wanders around the room with both hands held out as if he were in a trance. Finally someone breaks the spell when they grab Jeremy's arm and ask what he is doing. Suddenly she is gone and Jeremy just stands there, motionless and sweating. Several eyebrows are raised then everyone goes about their business. Jeremy does not go to class but returns to his dorm room and takes a shot of vodka.

Devin is the vice president of sales and marketing for the Oracle Company, a Silicon Valley developer of a highly specialized product called NewSight. This product is a combination of hardware and software with over ten years of research and development behind it. Government grants and money from other sources in the private sector fuel this program, which is designed to allow people stricken with blindness to see, using the latest technology. Implants surgically placed on the back of the retina intercept impulses formerly going to the brain, taking the information to a firewire port which is located at the base of the back of the neck. All the data is then interpreted through a highly refined software program which is loaded into a palmcorder that the patient wears on a belt pack.. The resulting data is then fed back up through the port to a second implant located at the base of the brain stem. This interpolated data is then converted into a digital data stream that the brain "sees" as vision. Years of R & D went into fine-tuning this miraculous invention. Lag time was the first issue, but as computer chips became smaller and more powerful, lag time was reduced to mere milliseconds and a person using this technology could then step out into the outside world and function in a near normal capacity, as far as sight is concerned. Legislation was slow in coming to allow people wearing this apparatus to drive vehicles.

Another cottage industry had spun off from this product, once it was fully developed. By tapping into the firewire port and sending the data to a laptop loaded with special software, a digital stream of information could be converted and shown on a standard plasma screen television monitor, and thereby also recorded onto digital media for storage and playback. Devin had already been approached by several different areas of interest. One (which he personally found distasteful) was from a leading broadcast company who was looking into the possibility of having the operation performed on a person who had complete and normal sight. Someone got the idea to eliminate the camera and have reporters fitted with the device on location to record and capture footage for news reports. However, the government stepped in and vetoed the idea. If anybody was going to have "seeing eye dogs" - as they were being referred to - the government wanted to monopolize that option. This was still a new technology, and like the earlier cloning controversy it would be a while before the smoke clears on the many scenarios capitalizing on this new technology.

This morning, Devin had an appointment with a representative of the law enforcement agency known as Special Services. No one really knew much about the Special Services branch except that they were always called in on unusual cases. And since he could find little on the Internet about this hush-hush operation, he had no helpful information which might have given him some advance insight as to why he had this meeting scheduled. He would know soon enough, as his appointment was walking through the door.

The man looked like a cop. Nondescript clothing, expressionless face, deliberately paced gait. And staring right through Devin as if he were fixing his gaze on something immediately behind Devin, who was now positioning himself behind his office desk like it might offer some measure of protection. The man wasn't particularly imposing, he just had a steady gaze and seemed to be a man with a purpose. He learned the man's name was Lt. Mack Brady and had a dead fish handshake all in the same motion.

Brady got right to the point. "What do you know about the Special Services Division, Mr. McAllister ?"

"Not much." replied Devin. "I did a little preliminary research on the net but didn't find much more than some speculation about your department".

The man smiled faintly. "Yeah, we don't like to advertise much. In short we are a special assignment to the National Crime Bureau. We operate above the state level but in conjunction with the state agencies in investigation of what we call Special Crimes."

"Special Crimes�.?" Devin asked, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the desk.

Brady shifted his weight in the chair, and it automatically adjusted to his new position. "Yes, like unusual crimes or unsolved incidents."

"And just how do you do that?" Devin replied.

"Well, a lot of what we do is highly classified, but�." And they were both interrupted by a chime at Devins laptop. A small voice said "Devin, there's a woman at the front desk asking for you but she doesn't have an appointment or clearance".

"She's with me, Mr. McAllister. I took the liberty of asking here to sit in on this meeting" Brady said as he looked at his watch.

"And why would you do that Lieutenant? You know security can't make a clearance without a background check, and nobody gets into Oracle without a profile." said Devin with a frown.

"Well, first of all," said the man as he drew a long breath, "She is instrumental to the reason that I am here today, and second, she has a confidential security clearance at the national level and your research wouldn't find a thing on her". Brady fixed his gaze on Devin as if to study what the man would do now. Devin was starting not to like this man and was beginning to wonder if this meeting was going result in a tension headache later on in the day.

"Devin�..?" The small voice said.

He pressed a key on the laptop and said, "It's okay, security. Give her a red badge with my name on it and send her up on the security elevator. Have her met at my floor by a guard to personally escort her to my office". He closed the lid on the laptop and turned back to Brady. "Perhaps you should bring me up to speed, Lieutenant"

"Yes, perhaps I should" said the man, a bit uncomfortably. "The lady you are about to meet is on assignment to the SSD. She went to the Law Enforcement Academy, is an expert in the fields of ballistics, biology, and is a first rate computer programmer. But more importantly she is also a 'seer'. Do you know what that is?"

Devin stared blankly back at him.

"No, probably not." Brady answered for him. "Some people�. A very few people�. Have a rare and unusual ability to see things that aren't there�.. To hear things no one else hears��. And to know things that no one else could possibly know."

Now it was Devin who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He moved one way, the chair responded and moved to balance his weight. Immediately he moved again and the chair moved again. It would have been funny under different circumstances.

"You mean, like�.. Clairvoyance? Or a psychic?" he said, a little unsure of his own response.

"You're very close, Mr. McAllister", Brady replied enthusiastically. "The Special Services Division has enlisted some of these�.. Special people�. to help us solve crimes and to find answers in dead end cases. I know this may sound a bit like science fiction, but the numbers of solved cases is too great to just dismiss these as freak occurrences." And with that the door chimed.

Devin waved his hand over a lens on the desktop and his office door clicked and opened. The guard remained outside the door as the woman stepped through the threshold. She was dressed in loose fitting clothes, wearing a subdued brown outfit that seemed to flow as she walked toward them. When she arrived at his desk, both men stood up and she extended a frail hand toward Devin. "Hello. My name is Sean O'Riley". She was small, petite, with the thinnest waist he had ever seen. Her red hair stood in contrast to her pale smooth face. Her voice sounded cheerful but her expression was almost sad looking, as if she was wearing the weight of more years than simply by counting birthdays. He took her hand to shake it and when their hands touched she suddenly looked up and right into his eyes while her eyes opened up as if in amazement or realization. She sat down suddenly and remained still.

"Is something wrong?" Devin asked.

'No, no," she said, and looked at the Lieutenant.

Brady spoke up. "Many of our special operatives like Sean here are so attuned to their own abilities that sometimes they can't just 'turn it off' and when they come into physical contact with another person they often get�. What I'd call� an immediate impression of that person. Call it a personality snapshot, if you will. It's harmless, unless you happen to have committed multiple murders that you're trying to hide, or are mentally deranged in some way. "

"You mean she was reading my thoughts?" Devin said, while a sickening feeling slowly went up his spine.

"No, no, nothing like that. It doesn't work that way." Brady explained, easily reading the other man's discomfort.

The girl immediately followed with "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shock or offend you. All I got was a sort of mental projection of your feelings. I could tell you were apprehensive and maybe even a little agitated. I figured you were apprehensive about this meeting, but the agitation seemed to be projected from sometime prior to my meeting you. Nothing more."

Devin's mind immediately flashed back to his argument early that morning with his wife. It was a stupid argument. One of those dumb things that escalate when neither side holds back their feelings as a result of many years of living together. The argument went unresolved because she had to leave for work right away, and as she left the house he was already thinking what a stupid jerk he had been and he should tell her he was sorry but she was already gone. Apparently it was still lurking around there in the back of his mind. He wasn't even aware of it, but this woman had sucked it out in mere seconds. He was impressed. And kind of spooked at the same time.

"So now will someone please tell me what this meeting is all about?" He said, delivering the line in Brady's direction and trying not to sound too agitated. He did not want to make the girl feel as uncomfortable as he felt at that moment.

"Well, perhaps I should let Ms. O'Riley here tell you since this was all her idea in the first place" Brady responded, and shifted his gaze to the girl seated to his left.

Now it was her turn to shift around and play tag with the autochair. Not knowing just where to begin she blurted out "I want to get visual implants." Devin stared back at her, unsure how to respond.

"Why? You're not blind�." and he added, as an afterthought, "Are you?"

"No" she replied, sensing his cautious query, "Actually I have 20/20 vision."

"Then why in the world would you want to undergo surgery if you didn't need to?" He wondered if she had any idea how complex and painful the procedure was. "Not to mention there is a long waiting list of people who have valid reasons for requiring this procedure. People who could lead more productive lives if they had the gift of sight given back to them."

"This would be more like a job related request, Mr. McAllister" she said, reading his name off the sign on his desk.

"And how is that?" Devin retorted.

She then launched into a detailed account of her work, explaining to him in a simplified manner how she operates when entering a crime scene. By touching objects like instruments of crime she can sometimes conjure up images of the crime itself. She took great pains explaining to Devin how she "sees" these events in her mind's eye, almost like it is really happening in front of her, but in reality she is the only one who can "see" this. She will sometimes walk around a room and look in a particular direction like she is following someone, but none of the other officers there can see what she is looking at. They follow her stare but see nothing but a wall or an entrance into another room. "What my mind sees is so vivid that sometimes I gasp out loud at the scene happening in front of me, and sometimes it is so violent that I want to turn away. Once I even fainted at a multiple-murder scene".

"That's fascinating, Ms. O'Riley, but what does that have to do with me?" He was starting to get that creepy feeling up his spine again.

"Don't you see?" She asked as she slid forward in the chair, causing the gyros to whine as they fought to counterbalance her motion, "If I had an implant we could perhaps record the events I can see in my mind! Then everyone could see what actually occurred on a monitor. It could be used to capture criminals even if no one was present at the actual event. It might possibly even be allowed in court, like videotaping a witness' testimony on a case, or showing the scene of the crime�. Only the jury could actually 'see' the crime committed through my gift of second sight. I also believe that by merely monitoring the time stream surrounding the event, the residual psychic powers could be lessened or even totally eliminated. It would be like a sort of exorcism "

Devin stared blankly. He had imagined all sorts of weird scenarios and this conversation was leading nowhere fast - right up to that very last statement. Then the realization started slowly seeping into his mind as his overworked imagination shifted gears and started studying the actual plausibility of such a concept. All he could get out was "Uh���"

Lieutenant Brady interrupted the silence that followed, "Listen, I know this all seems to be a stretch�.."

"A stretch!" Devin cut in, "A stretch!" The autochair did a slight seesaw motion, "That's putting it mildly. In the first place how do we even know this would work?" His mind didn't want any part of this. He was looking for a way out.

"You don't." she countered, "And you won't until you actually try it, and I am offering my unique services and talents to discover if it's even possible. "

Devin just stared at her. He didn't know what to say. "I've done a lot of research on your procedure," she resumed, "and I know that - theoretically - the biofeedback loop which connects the cerebral cortex to the palmcorder could be modified to read the brain wave patterns during stimulation from a visual source, so why not adapt it to read the stimulation from what the brain perceives as 'sight'? We may not even need to install the eye implants, just the brain implant."

Devin's own brain was reeling. This was definitely over his head. The implication of her idea was eye opening to say the least. He knew from previous experience how much red tape surrounded ANY new use of the NewSight technology. The Oracle Corporation and it's stockholders were not given to approve just any new uses of their technology, no matter how innovative it seemed at the time. They knew that one bad apple can spoil the entire bushel and bad publicity or even negative publicity would be hard to live down. Devin realized he had been doodling on his note pad while both his visitors were sitting silently, waiting. Finally he looked up and said, "Frankly, I don't know how to approach my boss with this request. Or that I should even mention it at all. He may suggest that I'm ready for early retirement."

Brady chuckled. "Well, that might not be such a bad thing, would it? Tell you what�. Why don't you sleep on it and if you think it would be worth the risk of at least bringing it up to him, then give me a call here", and handed Devin a media card. "You can access me directly on my cell from this linkup card. If you or your bosses want to follow up I will notify Ms. O'Riley and you can take it from there. Frankly, I don't know about this either way. But if it is possible to do what she suggests, then law enforcement may never be the same again."

With that they both stood up, shook Devin's hand and turned towards the door. The redhead hesitated a moment, then turned and said, "Look, I know this came out of left field. I know it sounds too weird to even contemplate. But what if it really did work? What if we could - from here on out - assist in solving crimes that never would have been solved by any conventional means? Don't you think I thought all this out before even mentioning it to the SSD in the first place? My research suggests that this may be possible, but I can't do it by myself. I need major technological support and Oracle can do that. But Oracle by itself - even armed with this concept and knowledge - cannot explore the possibilities without someone like me to try it out on. I'm willing to do it in the interests of science and law enforcement. How about you?"

And with that they were gone.

SCENE THREE
Muncie, Indiana

Three months had passed, and Jeremy was about to drop out of Ball State. He wasn't sleeping at night and neglected his studies. Six weeks ago he was called into the chancellor's office and given an opportunity to explain why his academics, deportment, and general well being had drastically dropped. He remembered feeling so helpless and foolish, sitting there in front of the Dean's desk, and wondering how he could explain why he was doing so poorly. Several times he opened his mouth to start but no words would come out. It just sounded so stupid and unbelievable, even in his own mind. But he had to try so he just opened up and told the man sitting behind the desk that he was being haunted by some kind of demon. He looked up and was rewarded for his efforts with the skeptical stare that he knew would be there, but after a while talking with the Dean it became clear that the man knew something was going on with Jeremy. They sent him to the campus medical facility. He talked for a long time with an appointed psychiatrist. He was glad to get it finally out in the open and could use help from any source at this point.

As he lay there in his bed reflecting on the past few months his phone rang. It was the Dean, requesting his presence once again and in just thirty minutes. He hurriedly showered, shaved, and got dressed and then ran across the campus to the Dean's office. When he entered he noticed several other people present. He recognized his student counselor and also the chief of campus security, but he had never seen the small red headed woman on campus before. He was introduced to her, but was so nervous that all he did was nod in her direction and look at the floor. He hardly heard a word spoken until the Dean motioned for him to sit down.

"Jeremy, these people here have shown an interest in your case, and would like to hear more about it from you", said the Dean, motioning to the others in the room.

Having no real desire to dive headlong into the situation Jeremy paused just a moment before he asked, "Why? Are these more shrinks wanting to get some good material for the movie of the week?"

The redhead spoke first. "I understand your reluctance to talk about your experiences Mr. Taylor, but we may know what has been causing your trouble."

"Really?" He was excited now. That was the first time anyone even acknowledged that there might be a valid reason for all this happening to him and he wanted to hear more. "Okay then, what is causing me to think I'm going nuts?".

Once again the girl took the initiative. "Let me ask you a couple of questions first. Before you started college here, have you ever been sitting alone in a room and thought you saw something or someone out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked, nothing was there?"

He thought about that for a moment. Old and confused memories flooded his mind. "Well, yes�. A couple of times, but I never thought much about it."

"Just a couple of times?" she asked.

"Well, maybe a few more time than a couple. Maybe half a dozen times that I remember."

"And have you ever been in a quiet place but thought you heard voices far, far away, or closed your eyes in a new and unfamiliar place and had 'visions' about people you didn't know in those places?"

He was definitely excited now and the hair on his arms started standing straight up in the air. No one could see them, but he could feel them. He anxiously answered "Yes to both those questions. What's going on?"

The redhead waiting a long moment and said "Jeremy, I believe that you are a sort of special person��� A special person with, perhaps�.. A special talent. Would you say you were a sensitive individual?"

"Yeah, I guess so" was his answer. He didn't think about it much, but it fit the profile he had of himself.

"Well", she went on, "I believe you have somehow inherited a small trace of an ability that I like to call 'enhanced perception', that gives you the ability to see and feel the subtle vibrations of a residual timeline in a given situation or place".

Jeremy frowned and said nothing. None of this was making any sense to him. The woman got up out of her seat near the window and made her way over to where Jeremy was seated. Then she pulled a nearby chair to within a couple of feet of him and sat down in it. Leaning in towards him she softly said, "Has there ever been any family tales about any of your close relatives?" looking him dead in the eyes.

Bingo! A light now goes on in Jeremy's head. "Yes! My mother and dad always joked about my aunt. Everyone in the family said she could read minds, but I always thought they were kidding."

"People are always nervous about things they don't understand." She stated simply. Something in her voice gave him the impression she not only knew about this but also had somehow been living it herself. For a brief instant he thought he saw a sad look pass over her face, but it was gone just as quickly as he picked up on it.

Now his student counselor picked up the ball. "Jeremy, Ms. O'Riley here believes this is all related."

"But how is that possible?" He wondered out loud to no one in particular.

The girl gently took his hand and said, "I believe your sensitivity in this area has allowed you to peek into a dark world. A dark world where crimes are committed, things happen, and people are killed. Only it happened in the past and no one else knows it's there but you. Your gift is not strong enough to manifest itself in such a way that you would be aware of these things going on around you. You only know that something strange is happening to you and you cannot explain it."

He was about shaking now. "But why here and now?"

Now the chief of campus security spoke up. "Son, a lot of people don't know this, and very few of the old timer instructors even remember it, but thirty years ago one of our teachers died under mysterious circumstances. She apparently fell, or some thought perhaps jumped, from a third story window in the very same building you have been experiencing your problems in. There was no evidence of foul play, and she was always in good spirits and didn't seem the type to commit suicide. However, the window from which she was supposed to have jumped, or fallen, has a wrought iron rail around it. No one could have accidentally fallen out of that window. It was one of those mysteries that has never been solved, but the teacher's family never believed she killed herself OR simply fell out of the window. After ten years or so, everyone just forgot about it."

Jeremy slowly took his hand away and said "And so you think this is what I've been having nightmares and 'visions' about?"

"Yes, I do." Her gaze into his eyes did not falter.

He was silent for a moment. "What does all this mean? What can I do about it?"

"I don't think you can do anything, Jeremy. Your powers are too weak and undeveloped", she said compassionately. "But I believe I may be able to help you. I think I may be able to monitor the time stream, and by doing so it may clear the area of the residual power that disturbs sensitive people like you. If I could give the spirit some kind of closure then it might go away, forever."

"Have you actually done this?" He asked, not expecting a positive answer. He had never heard of anything like this before, or even read anything about it. He still didn't quite believe it all himself, but he sure wanted to believe it. Everyone in the room looked to her for the answer to that last question.

"Actually, yes. I have had some success in situations very much like yours." She looks around the room at the inquisitive faces and continues, " I can see by all your faces that you're wondering why you haven't heard anything about this. Well, I work for a branch of the government that wants to keep these incidents quiet for several reasons. First, the government frowns upon showing support for what some people might consider crackpot schemes, and they don't like explaining how they spend taxpayer money. And second, the technology running behind all this mumbo jumbo is a very legitimate and respectable hardware and software development company operating on the West Coast. Until there is proof beyond a reasonable doubt that this program is doing exactly what it says it is doing, they are not too keen on advertising that they are behind it. Also, by protecting our program, we can continue to go on working on 'unsolvable' cases unhampered."

"It works for me." said Jeremy, obviously somewhat relieved with the entire situation. "So now what do we do?"

The chief of security offered "We probably don't want to call attention to our operation so I'd like to suggest scheduling it at midnight or something". Sean agreed, adding "Is there any time when that building is completely closed off?".

The Dean nodded, "Not really, except for a day or two between semester breaks, but we don't want to wait that long." The fall semester had just started.

"No, we need an alternative plan." She said thoughtfully. "What if we had some kind of chemical spill or medical quarantine and closed off the building for one evening?"

"Hmmm�. That might work." Stated the chief of security who was absentmindedly jangling a large set of keys on his belt key ring. "We could even make an official announcement on the PA system that afternoon and I could have a couple of my men posted at the entrances. What do you think Dean Kimmer?"

"I think that might work, but we will really have to swear everyone here to complete secrecy". As he looked around the room he added with almost a chuckle, "but then who would believe us anyway?"

SCENE FOUR
The Hobart Fine Arts Building

It's dark as the security crew makes a last minute sweep of all four floors of the building. Several men are posted at each of the four entrances to the building. Wrist communicators crackle with life every few seconds as the men inside do a room by room search. Sean, Jeremy, and Dean Kimmer are seated inside an enclosed and unmarked van. Sean is getting last minute instructions from a special technical assistant that routinely accompanies the petite redhead each time she goes into duty.

"Now listen, Sean�� tell me when something bad is about to happen". She scolds O'Riley as she attaches the firewire connector cables from the base of Sean's neck to the palmcorder.

"I know, I know� but you've got the monitor so you can see for yourself�.." but was cut off by her assistant who snapped "I can see for myself, but sometimes it all happens so quickly that I don't have time to respond."

"Well, how do you think I feel, Molly!?" Sean fires back.

"I know�.. Sorry. But with this new wireless transmitter the range is compromised when you get thick walls between you and the van, like last time when you were in that concrete basement when all hell broke loose. Just watch yourself." The assistant then clicked a couple of switches and the plasma screen came to life. The assistant turned to look at the screen and saw the back of her own head. As she whipped around she realized that Sean was looking at her from the seat behind her. "Yeow!" she cried. "That always spooks me out the first time!" Sean chuckled and looked over at Jeremy, who was now watching himself on the screen. "This is really weird". The Dean was on his cell phone talking in hushed tones.

"It gets weirder quicker" Sean muttered in a stage whisper, and stepped out into the night air. She turned around and asked Jeremy to accompany her to the bottom floor of the building, where he had first felt the presence of the apparition. Nervously, he agreed to go inside with her. They passed the security men at the front door and she asked, "How's it going?"

"Four rooms left, ma'am" was the reply. As she turned back towards the door she caught a glimpse of one of the security men gaping at her. She almost forgot how strange the wires must look coming out of the back of her neck and running into the palmcorder, which was in turn connected to a wireless transmitter housed in a belt pack. She keyed her headset mike, "Testes, Testes.. one�two�three.."

"Very funny, O'Riley" came the reply in her earbud. "I read you loud and clear. Not quit the funny stuff while I crank up the recorder���� Stand by���. Okay, we're digitizing to the hard drive array. You're hot and good to go. Dean Kimmer says good luck!"

"All clear, ma'am" the guard said after consulting his wristcom. She nodded and opened the door for Jeremy and they both stepped inside the building. "Now show me where you first had some kind of contact, Jeremy" said Sean, sidestepping so he could continue into the main room.

"Over here near the elevator" he said, cautiously moving in that direction. She started to follow but stopped abruptly, quickly glancing to her right. She thought she had seen something but nothing in the ensuing moment showed itself. "What is it?" said Jeremy.

"Oh, nothing. At least I think it was nothing." She clicked on the voice-activated talk switch, "Did you see anything, Molly?" and waited.

"Nope" came the answer. "I just did a ten second playback and nothing shows on the monitor".

"Okay, let's move on" But before she could move the elevator door opened. "Dean Kimmer, I thought your security squad did a thorough check of the building" Ten seconds of silence, then "Sean, he just checked and says they did and the building is empty."

"Okaaaaaaay������" she said and shot a glance at Jeremy, who was now standing right next to the elevator with mouth open and eyes wide. "It looks like someone or something is inviting us in the elevator. Shall we, Jeremy?" and stepped into the elevator. Jeremy didn't move.

"Jeremy?" she repeated. He looked at her, swallowed hard, and then stepped beside her in the elevator. Immediately the door began to close. Jeremy could feel his knees go weak so he took a step to the elevator wall and propped his back against the hard surface. The elevator began to rise even though no one had pushed any buttons. Jeremy closed his eyes and began to silently pray to himself. The elevator stopped.

Without opening his eyes Jeremy softly said "Don't tell me. Let me guess��.� Third floor?"

"Bingo!" replied the redhead as she stepped out into the third floor hallway. The door started to close as Jeremy quickly assessed the situation and, deciding he did not want ride the elevator back down - or wherever it was going - alone, he instinctively jumped through the closing doors. The redhead was smiling slightly.

"What now?" he asked Sean.

"Well, records show the window in question was in room 307, so I suppose we ought to move this party to that room" They both looked up at the door directly in front of them. "312" said Jeremy. Sean walked to the left until she could read the number over the next door "310�.. We need to go this way" and continued walking towards the end of the hall. She stopped at the next door and waited for Jeremy to catch up. "Well, here it is. Room 307. Shall we?" She grabbed the knob and turned it. It opened effortlessly into a classroom with 20 or 30 chairs facing a desk with a plasma screen monitor mounted on the wall that a blackboard used to occupy. There were three windows along the wall that overlooked the campus lawn.

"Which window was it?" Sean asked. Jeremy held up his hands but the redhead pointed to her headset mike. The reply came quickly on her earbud. "The Dean says it was apparently the middle window". They moved to that window and both looked out onto the campus. The van was sitting about 50 years out and below. Jeremy held back but Sean craned her head out the window. She could see the security men standing directly beneath the window at the front door, looking up at her. She looked out to the van and said "Howdy". "I see you looking at me, Sean." Said the assistant in the van, looking at her monitor and seeing the van. "Wish I could zoom in and out when we are doing reconnaissance" muttered Sean. "I'm working on that." replied the assistant. "If we configure the program to identify by pixel number then we could zoom in on the desired image and eliminate the pixels we don't want to look at, then digitally expand the existing image to fill the screen�."

O'Riley cut her off "Okay, forget the technospeak. We'll deal with that when we're not on a case", and pulled her head back inside the building.

Jeremy was looking at her. "What now?" he asked, backing slightly away from the window. "Well, it's not our party. We've obviously been invited up here so I guess we just wait." And she moved over to the desk and sat on the edge. Jeremy went to the front row of student desks and selecting the one closest to the far wall, he turned it around so he could be facing both the door and the center window and nervously sat in the chair. They both looked at each other for a moment before he said, "What if nothing happens?"

She leaned back on her hands, "Well, I guess we'll sit here for a while and then at some point we'll just have to leave. I have no control over these things. I just observe."

Five minutes passed like an eternity. "Molly," prompted the redhead, "What time did this happen back in '79?"

Silence for a moment, then "The Dean says that records show the body was discovered at 6:00 AM by a security guard making his appointed rounds. The autopsy estimated time of death at around 1:00 AM. Oh, by the way, records also show that the door was locked by the same security guard at midnight, but upon examination the next morning the door was found to be unlocked".

Jeremy looked at his watch. "It's about midnight. Does that mean we wait here for an hour?" He was getting a creepy feeling up his spine.

"Well, I don't know if our host is on a time schedule here, but I'd say we need to stay here until at least after 1:00 AM, yes." She made a deep sighing noise and got up from sitting on the desk, walking to the end of the room. "I wish they hadn't completely banned tobacco from all college campuses' back in 2005. I could sure use a cigarette right now."

Jeremy was about to agree with her but something caught his attention. It was as if a wind had brushed past his cheek. He didn't know whether to say something or not. He was spooked enough and he convinced himself that he was probably imagining it. He waited a moment but nothing further happened.

Although facing away from Jeremy, Sean continued to talk while she examined one of the desks at the end of the room. "I remember back when I was a kid, my dad used to tell me that when he was in school they used to carve their names in the desktops. Can you imagine that?" She slid her hand across the nearest desktop. "You couldn't do that today. These new desks are made from composite materials and have flat computer screens imbedded right into the desktop. Now the kids probably have their own personal screen savers loaded." She realized she had been lost in thought and turned around to face the young man sitting at the desk at the other end of the room. He was just sitting there, staring at her. Something wasn't right. She glanced around the room but nothing caught her eye until her gaze stopped at the large desk she had just been sitting on. "Where did that come from?" she ask Jeremy.

He followed her gaze back to the desk. "Where did what come from"?

"That notebook" she replied, "It wasn't there a moment ago when I was sitting at the desk. Did you place it there?"

Jeremy did a double take. He looked at the empty desk, then back to the redhead. She was staring straight at the desk. He looked back at the desk, but it was empty. "What notebook? The desk is clean. There's nothing on it."

"Really? What do you see down there in the van, Molly?"

"I see a blue notebook lying on the desk, Sean" came the reply.

"Jeremy, out in the van they see a blue notebook lying on the desk". She began to rapidly walk towards the front of the room.

Jeremy jumped up out of the chair and stood for a moment, unsure whether to move closer to the desk for a better look or to move farther away from the desk. Suddenly he remembered the breeze that blew by him moments ago. "Uh, I felt something brush by me while you were in the back of the room but I didn't think much about it." "Did you see anything, Jeremy?" Sean asked. She was almost to the front of the room now.

"No. I just felt a slight breeze was all." He definitely had the willies now. The hair was standing up on the back of his neck. He still didn't see anything on the desk or anything else unusual in the room.

"It's a teacher's notebook" she said, looking down on the desk.

"What!?" he replied. He still saw nothing.

"It says 'TEACHERS NOTEBOOK' on the cover of the binder". Her gaze was fixed on a spot on the table.

Jeremy, standing about six feet from the girl and desk, didn't move. He seemed to be frozen in time. It was as if he was waiting for� something. But he didn't know what. He continued to look at her. She was about to reach down to an empty spot on the table but she looked up at him at the last second and then she froze, herself. She was now staring at Jeremy, or through Jeremy as it appeared to him. He felt an impulse to reel around but was unable to force his body to react to his command.

"What.." he said weakly.

She didn't move, but said in very even tones "Don't move". He didn't

"Holy shit!" stated the excited voice on the earbud in Sean's ear. "Who's that?"

"I don't know, but if I had to guess I'd say it was our dead teacher" replied Sean loud enough for both the people in the van and Jeremy to hear. Jeremy finally managed to turn around, head swinging around first, then followed by the rest of his body. He stared toward the door but didn't see a thing.

"Where?" The question came from Jeremy's lips but he couldn't recall thinking it. He was too petrified to move.

"She's making her way toward me from the door, Jeremy. You mean you don't see her?"

Before she got his answer she heard in her ear "I do!" cried Molly in the van. Sean could even hear the Dean's voice in the background shouting, "It's her! It's Veronica Stiles, the teacher who died forty years ago! She looks just like her pictures! She's even dressed like in her pictures!"

And she was, O'Riley realized. She was wearing a skirt and blouse reminiscent of the late 1970's. And low-heeled shoes. And a sweater made of some kind of soft and fuzzy material. And her hairstyle was so out of date it looked conspicuous. And she was walking directly towards the front desk, with Jeremy standing right between them.

Jeremy by now was beside himself. He didn't know which way to move to get out of the way because he couldn't see a thing. He wished he were in the safety of the van watching all this on the monitor. At just that moment he felt a sudden and distinct movement. He felt a hand on his shoulder for just a brief instant. Then it was gone, accompanied by that same feeling of a slight breeze brushing by him. He even thought for an instant that he had seen someone walking right by him. A cold and involuntary shudder passed through his body. He looked at the redhead, who seemed to be following movement past him and towards her. Sean slightly backed away from the desk as the other woman approached.

Sean said, in even and subdued tones, "She has stopped at the desk and is picking up the notebook, and examining it. I think she is making sure it is hers. She must have left it here and is retrieving it."

"Sean," said the voice in her ear, "a notebook was found on the floor in that room that day, about four feet from the center window."

"What's going on?" Jeremy asked hysterically.

Sean broke her gaze to look at Jeremy and reassure him but now someone else was standing behind the young man. Another man had entered the room undetected and was standing at the doorway, intently watching the young teacher's back as she examined her notebook, apparently unaware that someone else was in that room with her. He was dressed in the same type of clothing worn in the period.

"Jeremy" she said quickly, "Move over to the opposite side of the room from the windows�.. and do it quickly."

Now things got a bit confusing for the redhead. Jeremy was asking questions in a panic and the van was alive in shouting voices. The new character was slowly and silently moving his way towards the young teacher's back. "QUIET!" she snapped to all within earshot. "Jeremy, move!" as she started to put distance between herself and the front desk. As she did so the mysterious man reached into his jacket pocket for something.

By now Jeremy was up against the far wall and sobbing a little as his eyes scoured the entire room. Since he couldn't see what was going on his gaze darted back and forth. He was shouting now "PLEASE tell me what's going on!" She looked to the pleading young man. "Calm down! You are in no danger. A man has entered this room. A man from the past. He appears to be stalking the teacher who is still standing with her back to us and is unaware anyone else is in the room. Stay right where you are."

With that her audio monitor came to life again. It was the Dean. "I recognize that man! He was also a teacher! His name is�. Wait a second while I check my database��.His name was Earnest Weatherby and he taught math courses here at the same time as Miss Styles! It shows her that he retired in 1999!"

By now the man was only a few feet behind the young woman. As she closed her notebook and turned to leave she walked right into the man. With a shocked expression on her face she attempted to back off, but he grabbed her by both arms and pressing her against his body he forcibly kissed her on the mouth. She broke his grip and pushed him away, shouting wordless warnings that no one in this time could hear. He lunged toward her and she quickly pulled a desk between them as she bolted for the door. He cut her off and she turned around and leapt for the open window. The center window. As she moved her grip loosened on the notebook and it fell to the floor. She reached the window as he reached her. As she begin to scream for help out the window he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and whipped it over her head, forcing the makeshift gag into her mouth and stifling her screams. The ensuing struggle only took ten seconds or so. He tried to pull her away from the window using both hands and pulling on the handkerchief, thus forcing her head back. She grabbed the wrought iron rail around the edge and base of the window with both hands and pulling with all her strength she pulled the cloth out of his grip. Her momentum at that moment of release thrust her forward and, unable to check herself, she flew out of the window entirely, screaming as she fell three stories down to the pavement below.

It was all over and only took 30 seconds from the moment the young teacher had first turned around to confront her assailant. Sean hadn't even moved from her vantage point in the time it took for events to escalate. She had not even uttered a word in the last 30 seconds. Slowly, she looked over at Jeremy. He was still standing there, shaking. He still didn't know it was over. She walked over to him and, placing a hand on his shoulder, she simply stated "It's all over now. You can relax." He had no idea what had happened and would turn white as a sheet later when he was allowed to watch the event back on a monitor.

On the ride back to the airport, Sean got a call on her cell phone. "Sean? This is Lieutenant Brady"

"Yes, what is it Lieutenant?"

"Command Central just located Earnest Weatherby. He is still alive and living in Phoenix, Arizona in a Sun City Retirement Condo. Authorities are on their way there now to pick him up. Won't he be surprised?"

Wearily, the redhead leaned back in the plush chair of the van and let her small body slowly sink into the upholstery. "Like someone I know once said� 'Law Enforcement may never be the same again'".

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