[Illustration: There was no past--no future--only a great chaotic
NOW.]

"In 1973, at Basra." There was a touch of impatience in his voice;
surely they ought to know that much. "He was shot, while leaving the
Parliament Building, by an Egyptian Arab named Mohammed Noureed,
with an old U. S. Army M3 submachine-gun. Noureed killed two of
Khalid's guards and wounded another before he was overpowered. He was
lynched on the spot by the crowd; stoned to death. Ostensibly, he and
his accomplices were religious fanatics; however, there can be no
doubt whatever that the murder was inspired, at least indirectly, by
the Eastern Axis."

The class stirred like a grain-field in the wind. Some looked at him
in blank amazement; some were hastily averting faces red with poorly
suppressed laughter. For a moment he was puzzled, and then realization
hit him like a blow in the stomach-pit. He'd forgotten, again.

"I didn't see anything in the papers about it," one boy was saying.

"The newscast, last evening, said Khalid was in Ankara, talking to the
President of Turkey," another offered.

"Professor Chalmers, would you tell us just what effect Khalid's death
had upon the Islamic Caliphate and the Middle Eastern situation in
general?" a third voice asked with exaggerated solemnity. That was
Kendrick, the class humorist; the question was pure baiting.

"Well, Mr. Kendrick, I'm afraid it's a little too early to assess the
full results of a thing like that, if they can ever be fully assessed.