"Go get the other advisors!"

  The students stood there looking at each other.  

  "NOW!" 

  One went.  

  In a crowded cafeteria, that student started asking around, "Are you an advisor?"  

  "Whoo wants to know?"  One woman buried in study plans and concept papers asked after others at the table said, nooooo.  Na-ah.  Not yet, maybe someday. 

  "They need an advisor or two upstairs."  The professor-type looked around the cafeteria.  Stood.  Crammed all the paperwork into roll-on luggage and wheeled around telling about seven or eight people, "We're needed."  

  The group trudged up the worn carpet stairs.

  There was no one in the hallway.  All but one door were ajar.  The advisor in the lead stopped.  "I can't.  I'm.  I'm just in from Chicago.  Have to get my blood sugar up."  One reached forward and hand gestured, "You and I?" 

  One knocked on the door.  One put both briefcases on the hallway floor.  "Who is it?" A man's voice called out.  "I'll tell you who if you tell me who you are," one said. 

  "My name is John Roglesby.  And I shouldn't be here." 

  "It's not about smarts."  

  "John, my name's Adam.  And, I, er, have this room scheduled for a class, ah, a meeting of, with my students." 

  "Oh?  When?" 

  "Right about now actually." 

  "Yeah, I'm one of the students," said the woman.  The door unlocked.  The advisors went in. 

  It wasn't long before the male advisor came back out and gathered the other advisors.  "Nutty?" Someone asked right away.  "It's possible.  Has a story.  Claims to have been brought here from another state.  Has a little TV duct taped to his hands.  Emotional, sobbing some, seems to otherwise have his wits about him." 

  "Is this a bomb drill or something?" 

  People picked up bags.  "Could it be a bomb?" 

  "Oh God," someone said exasperatedly. 

  "It gets a little stranger." Three turned and left.  "Let's hear it.  Then we'll see what to do." 

  "Says the campus he was at before being didn't want to say kidnapped had some sort of international thing having to do with inventions, and," the advisor's eyes lowered and raised and he touched his chest.  "I'm sorry.  Terrible heart burn when I don't take time to digest.  "I heard about that conference they couldn't call a conference."  A low, rumbly burp escaped its repression.  "The man thinks what's on the TV is a humanoid's point of view."  

  One advisor said, "I'm out.  I really do have a meeting with my students." 

  "I do too, but it's not here.  I can give you," he looked at his watch, "Half an hour?"  The advisor left standing there blinked and sighed.  "Why me?"

  "They said things might come up.  We'll go in together."