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    Off on a Tangent – Siege Epilogue

    by Helen W.

     

    Blair caught up with Jim as they re-entered the building. "Man, I cannot BELIEVE you hung from that chopper! That’s completely unreal!"

    Jim turned to him, eyes narrowing in appraisal. "You did pretty good today yourself, Chief. You know what comes next?"

    "Huh?"

    "Somebody takes your statement. But, since I have to go give one myself right now and I can’t think of anyone to take yours, I want you to go someplace quiet and write down everything that happened to you today. Just like you did yesterday about Veronica Sarris."

    "Yeah…"

    "Don’t guess at anything, don’t embellish anything. If you use a computer, print out your statement and sign and date it. Got that?"

    "Yeah…"

    "You okay?"

    "Yeah, sure. Go some place quiet and write everything down."

    "And bring it by tomorrow. Someone will take your formal statement then, provided we can find a chair without a bullet hole in it."

    Blair rubbed at the hole in his jacket. "Yeah, right. Got it, man."

    "You sure you’re okay?"

    "Yeah…"

    Leaving the building, Blair glanced at his watch. Not even three yet! If he hurried, he could get to campus, write his statement, then make it to the Antro/Archeo/Soc Friday afternoon beer hour at 5. Man, could he use a beer or three, and some time with the gang!

    - - - - -

    "I found me a sentinel."

    "Huh?" The half-dozen-or-so grad students settled into Blair’s favorite alcove in the Hargrove Hall lounge turned at this pronouncement.

    "Yeah, this cop – you should see him…"

    Andrew Kane laughed. "He can smell doughnuts at 100 paces?"

    Bonnie Johnson snorted. "I wish that’s all the Cascade Police worried about! Can you believe the mess they made of downtown!"

    Blair's hand once again drifted to his jacket's new hole. "I can’t see how you can blame anything Garrett Kincaid did on the police!" he said.

    "Who?" asked Andrew. "What?"

    But Bonnie was on a roll. "I’ve studied indigenous negotiating techniques extensively, as you know. I’m sure that some knowledge of tribal methods would have been SO BENEFICIAL. But…"

    "But that’s ridiculous!" said Candice O’Toole. "You know you can’t transplant squat into this sort of urban setting!"

    Bonnie turned to Blair. "Blair, tell her that there isn’t an aspect of our society that can’t be improved by applying some of the ancient knowledge of humanity!"

    "And maybe you could get some my parking tickets fixed," Andrew was now saying. "I mean, why is it a CRIME to want to put your car somewhere for a few minutes?"

    "Andy, you CANNOT be serious!" said Bonnie. "Not that I believe that parking should be under the purview of the police. There should be councils of social elders to enforce common rules…"

    This was all too much for Blair. He’d almost died today – would have, if it hadn’t been for Jim – and Andy was talking doughnuts and he couldn’t even begin to fathom what Bonnie’s points were today, not that he could even when he hadn’t almost died and there wasn’t a friggin’ bullet hole in his best jacket.

    He felt a hand on his other shoulder. Hal Bruckner, his undergrad faculty advisor. "A minute of your time, Blair?"

    "Ah, sure," said Blair, rising and following him out into the hall and across into an empty classroom.

    "Blair, you look a little worse for wear."

    Blair snorted. "Well, I’ve been following this cop around all week. I think he might be the real thing – a sentinel. Did you hear about what happened at the central police station? I was there all day…"

    Prof. Buckner nodded. "Yes, yes – I heard you say you thought you’d found a sentinel. And I think it would be a good idea if you never mentioned it again."

    "Huh?"

    "Current events, Mr. Sandburg! Surely you’ve heard about the man down in Oregon who was arrested for growing marijuana, discovered through the use of some sort of heat detector? He was convicted, but he’s appealing, saying the police should have had a warrant, and his case looked pretty strong in the write-up I saw. If you proclaim your friend a sentinel, he might need a warrant to walk down the street."

    "That’s nuts – it isn’t a game out there."

    "Most of your colleagues wouldn’t agree with you. Frankly, Blair, I’m surprised you wouldn’t be on the civil libertarian side. In fact, I’m surprised you’d want to work with a police officer."

    "Why wouldn’t I want to?"

    "Blair, I’ve met your mother."

    Blair smiled at that. Buckner, who’d known him since he was 16, knew far more of his history than anyone else at Rainier. "Actually, cops got us out of some pretty rough spots when I was a kid. Sided with my mom a few times when they probably should have arrested both her and this bozo she was dating."

    Prof. Buckner nodded. "You really do look like shit, if I may be so blunt. Go home. Or, if you want to wait a couple of hours, I can give you a lift – I have to take a visitor to dinner, but I’ll be returning to campus by 8 or 9."

    "No… that’s okay… But I’d really like to talk to you more about this. I need an advisor…"

    "You’d drop your project with Prof. Alan for this?"

    "I don’t know…"

    "Blair, you should let this rest. Get your degree under Alan, and don’t go off on a tangent with this sentinel-cop of yours. If you are wrong about his abilities, you could still ruin his career. And, you could well find yourself in over your head."

    - - - - -

    Blair now found the thought of returning to the lounge overwhelming, and instead retreated to his office. Was Bruckner right? He’d promised Jim that he’d keep things quiet, but he hadn’t considered that this would have to extend to this world – his world – as well. Could he do it? Could he do a thesis without bouncing things off his friends? Without a real advisor? Interacting with colleagues seemed the very POINT of graduate school!

    Could he keep his darn mouth shut if he wanted to?

    Still, this – this Tangent – maybe he could make it work. What a feat if he could do it! Figure out how to help Ellison, maybe figure out how to identify sentinels in society. Blair Sandburg, a real-life Prof. Xavier! Now there was a thought.

    Blair flicked his computer on and opened Word. New document. A blank page. How could he justify hanging out with Ellison? "Closed Societies: Police Practices and Efficiency Helped or Hampered by External Oversight" he typed.

    And his Sentinel Project would be a tangent off of this tangent. A leap into the unknown.

    *** The End ***

     

    Author’s notes: Becky’s transcript site was invaluable – thanks so much for this!

    I’m pretty happy with the start of this story, but I think the grad student lounge scene is weak, and I really am not happy with the ending, or the title.

    In the case Bruckner mentions, the U.S. Supreme Court eventually ruled that using a heat sensor requires a warrant; see, for example, http://www.harris-publishing.com/harris-analysis/083001/privacy.htm. Which, to my mind, makes Jim’s approach to law enforcement patently illegal, something I think he’s going to have to face square-on eventually.

    All feedback welcomed, I'm thick-skinned! helenw@murphnet.org.

    To Helen W.'s other fanfic...