Prelude

The scratching of pencils.

'When integrated, e x is still e x.'

'Ln x will then be one over x'

More scratching.

Tara looked up, her eyes behind the thick lenses of her glasses, as the voice of her Mathematics teacher, Martineau, droned on.

All eyes on her. Not fixed but peeks.
Bimbos, she muttered. It's only Hamer.

More scratching of pencils. On paper.

'Ladies and gentlemen, I want your Exercises 13 and 14 in by Friday. On your way out, they are by the door. You may leave. Thank you.'

A Friday afternoon. In a hurry to break for the weekend.