e legend: BEAM ME UP SCOTTY.
THERE'S NO INTELLIGENT LIFE DOWN HERE!

The hearing room was about 30 feet square with no outside windows. The
front, facing the hallway contained the door. The rest of the front
wall was glass, similar to the neighboring witness room, but here the
curtains were tightly closed as if the room was ashamed to reveal what
was to take place inside.

A large table nearly filled the room, and seated along the far side of
it, nearest the front of the room, sat four members of the hearing
panel. At the head of the table, with his back to the blinded glass
wall, Henry had enthroned himself.

Diana was curtly directed to a seat also on the far side of the table
at the back of the room. There were several chairs between her and the
panel.

Across the table from the panel sat Janet Parks, the court reporter,
with her back to the door. She was accessorized with a recording
machine beside her and a backup tape recorder on the table.

Janet, as her profession demanded, tended to fade into the woodwork.
Dress and manner were subdued to the point where she became nearly
invisible--but not to Diana. She saw kindly eyes surrounded by a round
face that wanted to be jolly and laughing. She saw a possible relief
from the dominant accusing eyes. Not an advocate perhaps, but at least
neutrality.

An empty chair sat drawn up to the table beside Janet and there was
another empty chair further down the table opposite Trenchant.

The entire setup of the room was intentionally choreographed to promote
psychological terrorism. Diana Trenchant and her witnesses would be
interrogated by the panel while sitting in the chair beside the court
stenographer directly across from the panel.

The administration's accusers would sit in the chair which was directly
across the table from Diana Trenchant. Except for when she would be
testifying, Diana was seated at the place most distant from the door.

Alone.

Diana Trenchant sat down in the assigned seat and arranged her note pad
and documents for easy access. For the moment, the panel was huddled
together whispering so she took the time to organize her thoughts and
chill out the mounting apprehension.

Here she was, sixty years old, twenty five of those working at Belmont,
with never even as much as a traffic ticket citation, facing a
university hearing panel. Here she was--accused of forging seven
student feedback forms. The lump in her stomach and the on