"So, what's my cover going to be when we get there?" asked Cecilia:  "I mean, much as I hate to admit it, I'm a little old to be an undergrad.  Don't you think?"

 Meriwether smirked:  "Don't worry.  We've arranged for you to be a substitute gym teacher.  Dance and physical fitness, to be exact.  Because Princess Jumana and her roommate, Brook Rivera, happen to be part of the school's drill team; the Wranglerettes.  You know; pom-pom shaking; precision marching; and high-kicking? That sort of deal.  I mean; prior to becoming an anti-war firebug, that's what _you_ were originally studying to become.  Weren't you?  The next Agnes DeMille,* I mean?"

 "What about you?" she countered (conspicuously refusing to answer his question):  "Who will you be posing as?"

  Meriwether's ensuing grin was positively shameless.

  "I'll be a substitute teacher, too.  Un profesor de espanol, para ser precisos.  Y tu esposo, tambien!"

  Cecilia's reply was immediate and unequivocal:  "Say what????!"

   * * * * *

WHEELER COUNTY COMMUTER AIRPORT,

 (9:03 A.M./CENTRAL DAYLIGHT TIME)

   The Learjet landed only three minutes behind schedule.  By which time, both my dad and Meriwether had managed to calm Cecilia down.  The latter explaining that it was the only way to explain two substitute teachers arriving at UTMC at the same time.  And adding (as a further attempt at mollifcation) that the off-campus apartment where the two of them would be staying had a convertible sofa bed.  So, when the two of them weren't possibly entertaining new neighbors or fellow faculty members, she could have the master bedroom all to herself. 

 "What about Buck?" Cecilia demanded:  "Where's he going to sleep?  In the bottom dresser drawer or the top?"

 "Neither one," Meriwether replied (grinning once again):  "He's going to be keeping a point blank eye on the princess inside her sorority house."

 At which point, it became my dad's turn to over-react:  "Say what???!" 

 "Relax, Buck.  Dr. Long carefully arranged that, too.  Last month, the sorority house was fumigated to get rid of a pack rat infestation.  At least, that was the _official_ determination after a number of personal possessions (monetarily worthless, but sentimentally valuable) went missing.  During that 'fumigation,' a special tunnel was built inside the rear wall of the sorority house.  From just behind the bottom of the rain gutter outlet up to the princess' room.  An ascent you can easily make with the shrunken jet pack I'll be providing you."

 "A jet pack?" Dad echoed:  "Who do you think I am?  John Robinson?"

 "You're being too modest, Buck.  I know for a fact--from Pepe Garcia, himself--that you handled the jet pack in Scorpionfly training like you were born to it!"

 "It was more like adjusting the course of a parachute, in mid-skydive, combined with operating the switches on a pinball machine! That hardly made me  the star pupil."

 "Nevertheless, you also have more experience than Cecilia and I, put together, in maintaining radio contact from inside forbidden territory.  So, if you spot anything fishy, just get on your shrinkie-talkie and let us know, right away."

Dad sighed in defeat:  "Okay, okay!  What's the name of the sorority?" 

Meriwether's shameless grin returned:  "Tau Nu Alpha.  TNA, for short!"

This time, Dad and Cecilia were in perfect unison:  "Say what???!"

 tbc