Teacher of the Century by Robert T. Jeschonek Page B

was his clothes...namely, that he was wearing any at all. They were nothing fancy, just a red polo shirt, bluejeans and sneakers, but they might as well have been a hand-tailored Italian suit, for all the attention they got.
    Cilla couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a student wearing clothes. The very sight of him made her heart skip a beat.
    Calmly, the boy nodded and smiled at the stunned godlings. “My name is Byron Spenser,” he said. “I’m a transfer student.”
    For once, the naked savages were at a loss. Their aura of smug control and superiority seemed to have evaporated. The males were no longer aroused.
    Cilla Franklin regained her composure before anyone else. It was an impressive feat, considering that she had been on death’s doorstep mere moments before.
    â€œWelcome, Byron,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
    â€œI have a hall pass,” said the boy, and then he did something that threw everyone for a loop all over again.
    He held out a slip of paper.
    Cilla stared at the slip as if he’d just held up a gold nugget the size of a fist. Then, she shook her head and smiled.
    It had been a long time since she had seen one of those. It took her back hard and fast, years spinning away like clay pigeons in a summer sky.
    â€œI see,” she said. “You’re not wired, are you?”
    â€œNo, ma’am,” said Byron.
    Cilla’s heart skipped another beat. Not only was he free of brainware--and therefore not plugged into the godlings’ hive mind--but he had used the word “ma’am.” She hadn’t seen the likes of him since Jimmy Melville back in 2092...and Jimmy hadn’t even been the real deal, just a poser camping it up for laughs at her expense.
    Despite the resemblance in dress and manners, this boy wasn’t another Jimmy Melville. She could tell. She had a feeling.
    Fearlessly squeezing between the godlings, Cilla crossed the room to Byron. Normally, she would have been embarrassed by her urine-soaked dress, but it was the furthest thing from her mind.
    â€œWell now, Byron,” she said, gesturing toward the open door and following him through it. “Let’s see about getting you properly acclimated.”
    â€œThank you, Miss Franklin,” he said.
    Her heart leaped again. She was so agitated, she forgot to go back in the room and dismiss Period Five, but that was no big deal. Period Five, everyone knew, could take care of themselves.
    *****
    â€œI want to move up my retirement,” Cilla said to the naked principal. “I want to leave today.”
    Principal Caesar smiled. “What a coincidence,” he said. “Here I was hoping to talk you into postponing your retirement!”
    Cilla swallowed nervously and shook her head. “I’ve been marked for death,” she said. “They almost killed me this afternoon.”
    Caesar rolled his eyes and sighed as if they were discussing a harmless teenage prank. “And why is that, Cilla?” he said. “What did you do?”
    Cilla knew better than to look for sympathy or the slightest trace of support from the oily administrator. His only goal was to appease the godlings and their parents at all costs. He was very popular with the student body and even went naked and occasionally jacked into the hive-mind to curry their favor. Naturally, in his world, the blame for any mishaps could be laid squarely in the laps of the teachers.
    â€œI don’t even know,” said Cilla, “and it shouldn’t matter. They were going to kill me. They will kill me, if I don’t get out of here.”
    â€œLet me have a talk with Chief Ludwig,” said Caesar, reaching behind his ear for the hive-mind jack. “I’m sure we can smooth this over.”
    Cilla shot out of her chair and lunged over the principal’s desk, grabbing his wrist before he could switch on the link. “No!” she