Former Wharton student Christopher Clemente -- who as a sophomore was sentenced to 16 years to life in prison on drug and gun possession charges 14 years ago -- is set to be released within the next 48 hours.

Clemente, now 34, had his original sentence reduced to eight years by New York State Supreme Court Justice Richard B. Lowe yesterday, following recent revisions to the harsh 1970s-era drug laws known as "Rockefeller Laws."

According to lawyer Ron Kuby, Clemente took the initiative to file a motion with the court to reduce his sentence.

He later asked Kuby -- protege of the late famed civil liberties lawyer William M. Kunstler, who first took up the case in 1990 -- to represent him in the hearing.

His release from the Sullivan Correctional Annex in Fallsburg, N.Y., comes after almost a decade and a half in prison -- during which he exhibited "excellent" institutional behavior working as an aide in the prison's law library, Kuby said.

Clemente was 19 when he was arrested Jan. 9, 1990, in what the court referred to as a Harlem drug factory at 109 West 112th Street, near Columbia University.

New York City police found 214 vials of crack, a loaded MAC-11 machine pistol, a drug ledger with the name "Christopher Clemente" written on it, a bulletproof vest and more than $11,000 in cash.

They later testified that Clemente also tried to get rid of a loaded 9 mm. pistol and more drugs by throwing them out a fourth-floor window.

The prosecutor, New York Assistant District Attorney Maxwell Wiley, presented Lowe with a photo -- seized by Philadelphia police from Clemente's Van Pelt College House dorm room -- of the student posing with five firearms.

Wiley also released Clemente's 1989 fall semester grades -- three F's and a C -- in an attempt to discredit the defense's portrayal of him as a model student.

Lowe sentenced him on Feb. 26, 1991, following conviction of possession of a gun and more than 2,200 vials of crack. The additional 2,000 vials were found thrown out of an apartment window, just after officers arrived on the scene, police said.

Kunstler argued against the "Draconian sentence" and accused the police of violating Clemente's fourth amendment rights.

Police were originally responding to a 911 call next door after reports of gunfire in the building.

Clemente returned to campus in September 1990 before his 1991 January trial date. The University administration had agreed to permit Clemente to take a voluntary leave of absence -- but not before then-Vice Provost for University Life Kim Morrisson suspended him for four weeks.

Hundreds of students protested her decision and collected over $15,000 to help bail Clemente out of jail. Even then-University President Sheldon Hackney -- now History Department chairman -- made a personal contribution to the fund out of concern for the student's safety in prison.

At the trial, the defense said that Clemente -- who had a record as a youth offender -- had borrowed the apartment while home during Christmas vacation "for a tryst" with his girlfriend Leah Bundy.

Bundy, then 21, was also arrested at the scene and sentenced to 15 years to life. After serving 10 years of her sentence, the Bronx, N.Y., resident was granted clemency by Gov. George Pataki.

Lowe would not respond to calls for comment after office hours.

Kuby was overjoyed with the resentencing.

"Every lawyer has a couple of cases that haunt him," he said. "Chris was so young and had so much promise and did one stupid thing in which no one was hurt, and he paid for it with his entire youth."

Kuby added that his "biggest regret" was not pushing Clemente to take a plea bargain of one to three years -- a deal that the student refused, fearing that a felony conviction would prevent his return to the University.

Henry Clemente, 53, called his son's imminent release "a blessing."

Adding that the "devout Christian" would definitely want to continue his education while devoting time to his religion, Henry speculated that his son might write an autobiography.

"He's a phenomenal young man and you will see all his talent come out as he explores his life and becomes the one he dreamed he could be," said Henry, who lives in New York City.

Celebration plans include a quiet dinner with friends and family.

Christopher's mother, Barbara Jenkins, could not be reached for comment in her Virginia home.