The Doomsday Strand

Chapter Two

Hunter went to San Gerado State wearing his usual trench coat, black shirt, dark pants, dirty pair of sneakers and a cross bones ring on his right middle finger. It was what he liked to call his 'anti-social' look, the kind of outfit he wore on assignments that didn't require him to get too friendly with people. It was a look that tended to drive people away, but still allowed him to sit comfortably in a room full of people and not stand out too much.

He was taking a backpack with him to class containing two pens, a notebook, a book on Archaeology appointed to him by the course's curriculum, and most important of all, a canteen of rum.

Hunter was one of the first ones to arrive in the stadium seating style classroom that was so typical of universities. He sat in the back and watched the other students come in, studying them. Most of them were young, skinny, nerdy type men and girls. Some of them fit the Archaeology type very well: wide eyed and excited about being there, while others looked like they still needed some time figuring out what they wanted to do in life. For once, Hunter was grateful he was working for the Agency and was glad he didn't have to decide what he wanted.

The teacher of the class, a bald middle aged man with a serene look, entered the classroom with a bundle of books and papers under his arms. He set his things down on his desk, greeted the students closest to him, and began to write on the blackboard.

The students, who during the teacher's entrance had been engaged in various casual conversations about homework and plans for the weekend, quieted down as soon as the teacher started writing. They all opened their books and readied their pencils.

Hunter followed the example of the other students, but kept an eye on the door for any sign of Jack Philip's arrival. He checked the time and saw that Jack was already 6 minutes late.

"Alright guys." The teacher said. "I hope you've all done your homework, because I'm going to open today's lesson with a question." The teacher smiled at the class. He enjoyed the mixed expressions of excitement and fear.

"Who can tell me who who built the great pyramids of Egypt, and how?"

There was a moment of tension in the room, as each student wondered who would speak first. A goofy looking guy in a football jersey lazily rose his hand. The teacher pointed to him.

"You, quaterback."

"Aliens built it."

A chorus of light-hearted laughter rang through out the room, which was extended by Hunter's own hysterical wheezing. He slapped his knee and banged the back of his head against the wall, which naturally drew everyone's attention.

"New guy!" The teacher called out, pointing at Hunter. "Mind telling us?"

Hunter wiped tears from his eye, sat up straight and cleared his throat.

"Commissioned workers, not slaves like most people think. They were paid very generously to stroke the pharaoh's cocks. Sorry, I meant their egos."

"Could have said it without mentioning the Pharaoh's penises, but yes, that is correct. Now can anyone tell me how they were made?"

A nerdy looking girl rose her hand and explained the entire process of the pyramids' construction, from the making of the stone blocks to the way in which the workers got the stones to the top of the pyramids. Hunter studied the other student's faces to see if anyone contested her explanation in favor of the popular conspiracy theory brought up by the class clown. Everyone seemed to agree with her, which meant two things. One, that the conspiracy theorists spreading Jack's story around weren't in the class. Two, that no one knew the actual truth: that the pyramids had been built by super humans infused with alien DNA.