Kevin shook his head. "Clearly, physics is much more restful than sociological or political speculation."
David was quiet, thinking back to the hole in the 2D world. "Kevin," he said, "What if some higher dimensional folk cut a hole in our world?"
"This is a damn good Rueben," Kevin said. "Well, I suppose the same thing would happen as it did to the 2Ders, no? But, seriously, you might need to come up with some math to support your dimensional view, David. And being that you're a practitioner of pseudo science, I doubt that's going to happen."
"Fight nice, kids," said Marty.
They were finishing up when a young woman in line at the food counter screamed and dropped her tray. "It disappeared!" she cried, before she fainted, banging her head on the tray slide as she collapsed.
David was up in a flash. He had not told his friends about his own experience and did not, in fact, want them to know, but this woman...he simply had to find out what had happened to her.
She was moaning when he got close. He loosened her blouse at the neck so she could get some air. Someone had already called 911 and since David was not family, it would be several hours before he was allowed to get near her again. He followed them to the hospital. Finally, when she and her husband were released, he managed to approach. "I heard what you said," he told her, "and I'm wondering if what you experienced was the same thing that happened to me."
She looked terrified.
"I don't want her more upset," said her husband as he tried to steer her away from David.
"Please," said David. "I teach at the college. I'm not a whack-job, I really need to discuss this with her."
"Maybe tomorrow or a couple of days from now," said the husband. "She works in administration. Our name is Lattaly."
He finally found her a week later in Admissions, after asking all over the place. The name was Latterly, not "Lattaly." She was in her late twenties, mildly pretty, skittery as a rabbit.