the same
exam? Like that business about rehabilitation? It ain't in the book."

"Oh, that." Don shrugged. "He gave us the low-down on that during class
last week. Suppose your group got the same lecture. You should've
checked your notes."

Darrin shrugged and stood up. "Always somebody don't get the news," he
grumbled. "This time, it's me. I was out for a few days. Oh, well. How
was the Aud?"

Don spread his hands. "About like usual, I'd say. Oh, they had a run on
the end of the Waern affair. Really fixed that bird for keeps.
Otherwise?"

He waved his hands in a flapping motion.

The other grinned, then turned as a bell clanged.

There was a rumbling series of crashes, followed by a roar which echoed
through the corridors. Darrin turned quickly.

"I'd better get going," he said, "before I get caught in the stampede.
Should be able to sneak up the back stairs right now. See you later."
He strode away.

Michaels nodded and sat down, opening a notebook.

Students commenced rushing into the locker room and the roar in the
hall was almost drowned out by the continuous clash and slam of locker
doors. Don paid little attention, concentrating on his notes.

At last, the noise died down and Don looked up. Except for one slender
figure, crouched by an open locker, the room was empty.

Don looked at the boy curiously. He was a typical Khlorisana--olive
skinned, slightly built, somewhat shorter than the average galactic.
Don looked with a touch of envy at the smooth hairline, wondering why
it was that the natives of this planet always seemed to have a perfect
growth of head fur which never needed the attention of a barber. He
rubbed his own unruly hair, then shrugged.

"Hate to change places with Pete Waern now, though," he told himself.
"Wonder where he stands in this business."

* * * * *

Hurrying footsteps sounded in the corridor and three latecomers rushed
in. As Waern straightened to close his locker door, the leader of the
group crashed into him.

"Hey," he demanded, "what's the idea trying to trip me?" He paused,
looking at the boy closely. "Oh, you again! Still trying to be a big
man, huh?" He placed a hand on Waern's chest, pushing violently.

"Out of our way, trash."

Pete Waern staggered back, dropping his books. A notebook landed on its
back and sprang open, to scatter paper over the floor. He looked at the
mess for an instant.

One of the three laughed.