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or his systems management class; and the pile sticking out from under the bed contained last year's work。 There was another year's worth of work deeper under the bed。 More books and papers were piled on the closet floor; with a seldom…used typewriter。
 The puter on Kenny's desk was surrounded by its own peculiar debris…boxes of discs; disc holders; a mouse and mouse pad; a printer; and stacks of puter paper。 Next to the puter was a pile of newspaper clippings。 On the shelf above the puter was a rack of books with titles like Stranger Than Fiction; Strange Facts; and The Unexplainable。 At the end of the shelf was a jar of dried corn。
 There wasn't anything Kenny particularly valued in the room; but he felt a sense of loss anyway; knowing he would not see any of it again。 He checked his pack one more time; to make sure the gun didn't show; and then he closed and locked the door。
 The dorm hall was quiet; and all the doors were shut。 The last of the late…nighters had drifted off to bed about half an hour ago。 On this Saturday morning no one was likely to stir until nine or ten。 It was better this way; Kenny knew。 He was weary of talking to people who were deaf to what he had to say; though it was unlikely anyone would talk to him now anyway。 He had bee genuinely unpopular in the last few months。 Ever since his discovery he had tried to tell them; to show them; but they treated him as a joke。 For their sake he hoped they were right; but for his sake he was going to do something about it。
 An empty elevator was waiting for him; and he left the building without looking back…even though the dorm had been his home for the last three years he had always disliked it。 Even the name of the dorm was ridiculous: Residence Hall。 One night after a few too many beers; he; Jack; and Robbie had printed out official…looking signs on Kenny's puter and posted them around the building。 RESIDENCE HALL FLOOR; one said; RESIDENCE HALL HALL; another said。 Even RESIDENCE HALL WALL; and RESIDENCE HALL TOILET。 It was the kind of thing that was funny when you're drunk but seemed dumb the next morning。 Still; none of the other residents tore the signs down for months。
 He found his dark blue Toyota in the parking lot。 The odometer had twenty…eight thousand miles on it; but it had rolled over two years ago。 The upholstery was shot; and the passenger win' dow was stuck closed; but the car would not quit。 He was briefly apprehensive…in all his careful planning he had never considered the possibility that his ten…year…old Toyota might be the weak link; trapping him with the unbelievers。 Now he pumped it twice; relieved when as usual it started the second time。
 As he was pulling out of the parking slot; he noticed a yellow bumper sticker on the Escort parked next to him。 Written in calligraphy; it read simply Shit Happens。 Kenny forced a nervous laugh。 〃You got that right;〃 he said out loud。 〃You sure got that right。〃 Then Kenny left the parking lot for the last time。
 When he reached Dr。 Piltcher's house; Phat; Colter; and Petra were already there; packing the RV and the van for their trip。 Kenny found Dr。 Piltcher and Dr。 Coombs staring at a puter screen。 Kenny could see the simulation he and Phat had developed running on the screen。 A well…worn copy of an ancient manuscript lay open next to the puter。 It made an odd sight; the ancient and the modern sitting side by side。 The two scientists looked up when Kenny came into the study。 There were dark bags under their eyes。
 〃Have you been running the simulation all night?〃 he asked。
 〃Yes;〃 Dr。 Piltcher said。 〃Dr。 Coombs and I fed in more of the Zorastrus data。 It didn't make any difference。 It's going to happen。〃
 〃I know;〃 Kenny said。
 There was nothing more to say; so Kenny left the scientists to help the others。 While they were packing; Mrs。 Wayne arrived with Ernie Powell in Ernie's pickup truck; its bed loaded with more supplies。 Dr。 Piltcher had advised them all to prepare for the worst。
 When everything was packed it came time for good…byes。 Dr。 Coombs shook Kenny's hand without a word; but Kenny knew Dr。 Piltcher would have something to say。
 〃Won't you change your mind; Kenny?〃 Dr。 Piltcher asked。 〃e with us。 We should be together when it happens。 I think you need to be with the group。〃
 Kenny knew Dr。 Piltcher's concern was genuine。 Kenny had bee introspective as the summer wore on。 By the season's end he rarely participated in the group discussions; and even Phat couldn't draw him out。 Kenny had tried to stay engaged but wasn't like the others。 He couldn't partmentalize his life; set aside his fears and live normally。 In fact; now his fears were his life。 He needed family; not friends。 He didn't understand why; so he said simply; 〃I need to be with my family。〃
 〃So you're going to go through with it?〃 Dr。 Piltcher asked; not expecting an answer。 〃Take this with you; I copied some of the Apocrypha of Zorastrus for you。 It might help。〃
 Kenny took the sheaf of papers from his friend and mentor and placed them next to his backpack。
 〃Be careful; Kenny。 We'll look for you after it happens。 。 。 if we can。〃
 〃Thanks。 The group meant a lot to me。〃 Kenny's voice cracked; so he immediately lowered his head; holding back the rest of what he had planned to say。 Instead he and Dr。 Piltcher stared at their shoes for a full minute and then Kenny managed to steady his voice long enough to tell them; 〃I'm going now。〃
 Dr。 Piltcher nodded and then shook Kenny's hand; as did everyone in the group except Mrs。 Wayne; who knocked his hand away and wrapped her arms around him。 When she finally released him he saw tears in her eyes。 Turning away quickly to hide the moisture in his own; he climbed into his battered Toyota。 He backed slowly down the driveway; knowing he probably wouldn't see any of them again。 They were all still waving good…bye when he turned onto the main road and drove out of sight。
 
 2。  THE ENTREPRENEUR
 
 Until meteorites fell in 1803; scientists were certain that reports of stones falling from the sky were legends。 It makes one wonder what other mysteries should be revisited。
 …E。Suzuki; Belief and Behavior
 
 Naples; Florida
 PREQUILT: SATURDAY; 9:03 A。M。 EST
 
  The Entrepreneur was a thirty…five…foot fiberglass deep…water sailboat; rigged for the open sea。 The original production hull had been modified with a three…foot cabin extension; bowsprit and pulpit; and webbing of double lifelines。 The mast was forty…five feet of extruded aluminum supported by one…quarter…inch stainless steel shrouds。 A gleaming white; slim hulled beauty with a fin keel; the Entrepreneur was everything Ron Tubman always wanted in a yacht; and more; and it was finally his。
 Carmen and her daughter were aboard; stowing gear for the voyage。 Ron still thought of Rosa as Carmen's daughter; though they had been a blended family; or at least mixed; for eighteen months now。 Everyone was consciously trying to blend; and Chris had surprised him; warming up to Carmen as quickly as Ron had。 He remembered joking with Carmen about her close relationship with her new son; suggesting a reconsideration of Freud's theory about Oedipal conflicts。
 Rosa was a different story; however; with no sign of an Electra plex toward Ron。 She was cordial with her new brother Chris; even affectionate at times。 Brother and sister roles were new to both of them; and they had quickly formed a bond。 Even before the marriage; Rosa had gone out of her way to do things with Chris…just as she went out of her way to avoid Ron。 Maybe; Ron thought; it was the age difference between Rosa and Chris that made it easy for them to be friends。 Rosa was six years older than Chris; and they had different interests and roles in the family。 The spliced siblings had never peted for affection from their parents。 But Rosa remained deliberately distant; cool and aloof to Ron。 She visited her father every other weekend and made it clear she didn't need another。 Ron didn't know if Rosa had harbored fantasies about her parents reuniting after their divorce; but Carmen's remarriage would have abruptly ended such a dream。
 Still; Rosa had shown feint glimmerings of interest in the sailboat; and that tiny spark was more than Ron h

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