From: eah4@po.CWRU.Edu (Elizabeth A. Hlabse) Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative Subject: Flashover, Part 4 Date: 22 Apr 1993 15:34:47 GMT Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, OH (USA) Message-Id: <1r6duo$qu2@usenet.INS.CWRU.Edu> Reply-To: eah4@po.CWRU.Edu (Elizabeth A. Hlabse) Nntp-Posting-Host: slc12.ins.cwru.edu "Flashover" Part 4 by Tracy E. Finifter Once at work, I managed to occupy myself enough not to think about tomorrow. At first, I had fun fiddling on the seemingly ancient computers. Computer technology in '89 was pretty far behind what I had been used to in '95 in the first place. Add that to the fact that here I was dealing with commercial products instead of the more advanced government research machines, and it was like a history lesson come to life. Of course, my life the past five years had been one immense history lesson. I was just happy that I was in a time where computers were fairly common. However, after about two hours I grew bored of it and there weren't many customers coming in to keep the staff busy. I found the few customers I did work with a little hard to deal with, however, seeing as how they were all interested in getting the best computer they could find, and I was uncomfortable with selling them machines which to me were no better than dinosaurs. Of course, recalling the computer problems the staff was having with Ziggy ten years in the future, I couldn't exactly be sure that computer technology would continue on an upward curve. After work, I headed home, still contemplating what would happen tomorrow. I wanted Al to come back, with some information from Ziggy if that were at all possible, so I knew what I would be able to do tomorrow. Al showed up soon after I got home, smoking a cigar as usual. "Hey there, Sam," he greeted. He sounded as preoccupied as I was. "Hi Al. Did Ziggy give you any odds yet?" "Uh, yeah," he replied, however he did not sound overly enthusiastic about the breakthrough that that must have been." "That's good," I said. "At least I have something to go on. What does he say?" Al pulled the handlink out of his jacket and proceeded to punch in some codes. "Ziggy says, reluctantly I may add, that you're here to keep Chris and Mike from going into the house." "And the children?" I asked, afraid of what I was going to hear. Al just shook his head in reply. "What are the odds?" I asked, not that knowing the numbers would make this any better. Ziggy was saying that two innocent children, for some unknown reason, were going die. "64.7%." "That's it? That's not much to go on, Al." "Sorry, Sam, but that's the best we can do." I sighed. Knowing the facts wouldn't make facing tomorrow any easier. In fact, it made things even harder. "Sam," Al said, interrupting my concentration, "I want you to promise me right now that you're not going to do anything foolish." "Foolish? What do you mean, Al?" "I mean I know you, Sam. You're just the type to rush into a burning building with no other thoughts than helping someone else. It's a noble trait, Sam, but it can also be a deadly one." "All right, Al. I promise not to do anything crazy. In fact, I don't know what I'm going to do." "Well, take it easy. You're too good of a friend for me to see anything happen to you." With that, he popped out of sight. Something about Al's tone of voice bothered me, but I didn't have time to ponder it. A ring at my door broke my concentration. I opened the door to find Chris, Mike, and Joe standing on my doorstep, each with a paper grocery bag in his hand. "What's this?" I asked, unsure of what was going on. "Come on, Steve," Mike said. "Don't tell us you forgot our poker game for tonight?" "Uh, no," I said, trying to cover my mistake. "How could I forget our poker game?" I let the guys in and hastily cleared off the kitchen table while they unloaded the grocery bags, which were amply stocked with beer, pretzels, and various poker supplies. "So, Steve, how do you like the department so far?" Joe asked while measuring out the red, white, and blue poker chips. "Oh, interesting," I said, thinking back to my experiences so far. "Not like I imagined it would be." "Hehe," Joe chuckled. "It never is." Once Joe had finished setting up the table and Mike and I had gotten the snacks together, we all sat down for a friendly game of poker. But the game was only the secondary focus of the night; mainly we all talked, well, they did, about sports, family, jobs, politics, and of course, the department. After three hours, however, my mind was still on my conversation with Al earlier that evening. "Guys," I said quietly. "Have any of you ever been in a situation where there were two, or more, lives in danger, and you had to choose which one you would try and save?" The table suddenly grew very quiet for several long seconds, until Mike spoke up. "Once," he said, his voice flat. "It was the dead of winter, January 1984. We were called to a house fire over in the Pine Brook development. The dispatcher told us that there was a report of two small children trapped in the building. When we got there, me and Rich Karlson went in on the search and rescue team. The room was full of smoke, you couldn't see anything. I heard crying from one room, and I guess Rich heard a voice from a different direction. The heat was the worst I had ever felt, and it was getting worse. The hose team was trying to knock down the flames, but it wasn't working. Rich and I knew that, if we were lucky, we might be able to get one of them out. So we did. I forget which way we went, to where Rich heard something or where I did, but we managed to drag out an unconscious little girl. If we had been thirty seconds later she would have died." The room was quiet again; I didn't ask about what happened to the other child. To be continued... * Tracy Finifter | "We are all born mad. * * finifter@gandalf.rutgers.edu | Some remain so." * * Douglass College, Rutgers University | - Samuel Beckett * * 13 days 'till "Mirror Image" | *