Free Twistor by Gene; John; Wolfe Cramer

insulator, pulled out easily.
    Then he grasped the top edge of the glass, pulled it away from the outer conductor, and set the glass vessel on the table. There was a slight sizzling noise and a heightened smell of ozone. Then he picked up the inner conductor by its handle and touched it to the outer conductor. The class, now well conditioned, was expecting another big spark. The tiny
pop
that occurred instead was an anticlimax. There were a few nervous laughs.
    'OK,' said David, 'we've disarmed the beast by touching the inner conductor to the outer conductor. It's dead. Now let's put it back together.' He picked up the glass insulator in both hands and slid it into the cup-shaped outer electrode. Then he picked up the inner electrode from the grounded sheet by its insulated handle and slipped it into the glass cavity.
    'Now,' said David, 'how many of you think the electric charge is gone and the capacitor is discharged?' Most of the class raised their hands. 'Does anyone think it's still charged?' No response. 'Well then, since it's all discharged, would anyone like to volunteer to touch the inner and outer conductors at the same time?' He mugged the demented grin again and beckoned. The fans giggled, the class shifted nervously, and there were a few nudges and uneasy laughs. No one volunteered.
    'I congratulate you on not having the courage of your convictions,' said David. He touched the C-ring across the electrodes, and there was a startling
Fwap!
as a large blue spark jumped across the connection. The class buzzed with excitement. 'D'you see that?' asked David. ' It was still loaded with electrical energy! Now the question is . . . '
    The serious students, sensing a possible item for the next test, opened their notebooks and began to write.
    ' . . . where was all of that electrical energy hiding when I touched the metal parts together? Now I'm not going to tell you the answer. I want you to think about this and talk about it among yourselves until Monday . . . Professor Saxon will be back, and he'll explain it to you then.' The fan club looked disappointed.
    'And don't forget that you have a problem set due on Monday also. Any questions? No? OK! Class dismissed!' As if triggered by his last words, the class-break bell sounded.
    As David turned away from the lecture table, perhaps a dozen students from the first few rows charged up to the front table to get a closer look at the demonstration and to ask questions. These were the curious and interested ones, the ones who made it worth teaching the class. A student, one of the fans, asked if he would be teaching other classes next quarter, or if he would be teaching this one again soon. He said no, and she looked disappointed.
    He excused himself as soon as he could manage it. He felt good. Despite his spotty preparation, the lecture had gone quite well, and the demonstration had knocked their socks off. Then he saw Vickie waiting at the exit door and looking rather irritated, and his mood fell.
    He collected his transparencies and notebook at the overhead projector, then threaded his way to the exit door halfway up the rows of seats. Vickie was standing there, green eyes blazing.
    'David, what happened last night?' she said, her voice unusually shrill.
    'Uh, let's wait 'til we get to the lab to talk,' said David, leading her down the hallway.
    ' I read the logbook and played back the data files. None of it makes any sense at all. What happened, David? Where's the cryostat? Where are the coils and the sensors?' Victoria's voice rose. ' Where's my thesis experiment, dammit!'
    David closed the door of the lab, put his lecture notes on a corner of the workbench, and slumped onto a wooden chair. Vickie still looked upset, but the walk from the lecture room to the laboratory had calmed her somewhat. She was still standing, however. 'David,' she said, tapping a foot on the concrete floor, ' what the hell is going on?'
    'I wish I knew, Vickie.' He inhaled deeply and paused to