I.2 Overslept

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I slept fitfully that night. Again and again I would wake up from all sorts of weird dreams. I could not remember any details afterwards, but I imagine quite a few of those dreams were about me getting disciplined in one way or another at a twentieth-century boarding school. Finally, in the early morning hours I was so exhausted and tired that I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

I woke up from harsh daylight shining on my face. Somebody had pulled up the blinds in my dorm room. I blinked.

Prof. Sara Jenkins, my Temporal Instructor for my upcoming First Temporal Assignment, was facing me, looking none too happy.

"Prof. Jenkins ... I mean, Sara."

Since the time when I had done my spring project in Temporal Physics with her group, we were on a first name basis. But that tended to slip my mind when I was under stress. Such as, right now.

"Catherine, do you know what time it is?"

As always, Sara Jenkins was impeccably dressed. Today, she was wearing a fashionable grey pantsuit and a white blouse. I, on the other hand, was stretched out face-down on my bed, stark naked, without make-up, my hair a mess.

"Uh, no."

"It is 9:30 a.m." She looked at me sternly. "You may recall that you had an appointment with me at 9 a.m. sharp."

"Great Gauss! I ... I am so sorry."

"I waited in my office for you for more than twenty-five minutes," she mercilessly continued. "Then I went to look for you. Only to find you ... like this"

Her gaze swept over the length of my body, coming to rest on my backside.

"I am sorry", I sheepishly repeated.

"I should hope so." Sara shrugged.  "As it is, I have a class to teach twenty minutes from now. So let's keep this brief. I have uploaded extensive documentation about British politics and culture in the 1960s to your account, including what little we know about that school St. Albert's. I expect you to use today and the next two days to make yourself familiar with that time period and its idiosyncrasies. Do not disappoint me. For your final briefing, you and I shall meet this Saturday, at 9 a.m. You better be there on time, Catherine."

"I will," I stammered, as she turned around and left the room.

I got out of bed and wrapped myself in a towel, angry at myself.

Sara would be mad at me now, and rightly so. For various reasons, I could not well afford her being mad at me.

I made my way towards our dorm's shared bathroom which was located at the end of the corridor. Upon entering I immediately spied Nareen who was standing in front of the mirror and applying her make-up.

"Hey there, Cathy," she greeted me. She studied my face. "What's wrong?"

"I overslept."

"Well, obviously." She grinned dismissively. "But such is life, eh?"

I frowned. "It's not as simple as that. I missed an appointment with my Temporal Instructor."

"Oh, crap. Did she get mad at you?"

"I don't know."

I took off the towel and stepped under the shower.

As my Temporal Instructor, Sara Jenkins would be supervisor, adviser and evaluator of my performance, all in one person, during my upcoming First Temporal Assignment. Which was just one of the reasons I could not afford her being mad at me.

Having taken the basic courses in temporal physics, there were essentially four possible paths I could take. I could (a) do research in theoretical temporal physics, (b) become an experimental temporal physicist, (c) concentrate on temporal exploring or (d) become a technician at the transit facilities.

I differed from most of my fellow students in that I had not made that important choice yet. I loved doing theoretical physics, but the notion of working as a temporal explorer fascinated me, too.

While all researchers at the Institute of Temporal Physics were obliged to supervise students on their temporal assignments, most of them regarded this as an unpleasant but necessary burden that kept them from fully concentrating on their much more important research.

Sara was different. She actually liked to participate in the collaborations with historians and archaeologists that were typical for projects in temporal exploring. As a consequence, she taught the vast majority of obligatory classes in that field. Which did not mean that she was not extremely capable in her own field, theoretical temporal physics. On the contrary, Sara Jenkins was regarded as one of the few outstanding temporal physicists of the early 23rd century.

It had been a genuine stroke of luck for me when I had been accepted as one of two students who had been invited to do their projects with Sara's group earlier this year.

I turned off the water, toweled myself dry and returned to my room to get dressed. Jogging through the park on my way to the cafeteria, I wore headphones to listen to the auditory-channel version of the data on the 1960s that Sara had downloaded to my account.

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