“You clapped. You stood up like you supported it,” said Sipley. He was leaning forward over his desk. His fat face was red, and Wingut was concerned about the man’s health. He sighed before responding.
“I do support it,” replied Wingut.
“Why?” came the demand from a fiery face.
“Several reasons. One, Trill is correct: in this crisis we could use the extra manpower. Two, I believe the money that has come to the History Department has made us lazy and wasteful. Third, I often question anyone’s right to administer to the quarantine planets.”
“Lazy and wasteful? I consider that to be a personal insult,” Sipley spat out.
“It’s not meant as one. I just feel we spend too much time in well-catered off-campus meetings in exotic places,” replied Wingut.
“And you don’t feel that we deserve this? After all we sacrificed? We are the reason humans are still here. You, specifically, are the reason humans are still here. And you don’t believe you deserve it?”
I’d better tell you a little about Wingut’s big moment.
The man who saved the universe didn’t really intend such a noble outcome. Actually, at the time he was desperately trying to disarm an explosive that he himself had set only a few tox earlier. Because of an attack right after arming it, he wasn’t be able to escape before detonation. Worse still, he had lost his personal transport device.
And at the exact moment when it mattered, Wingut forgot the PIN code for the explosive. It was the most important number in his life. He had repeated it hundreds if not thousands of times since setting it up. But on game day, he blanked. He stood looking at the keypad for an entire tox trying to remember it. Finally, as the final tix began to run out, he ran to the huge steel door and stood behind it. It was the only substantial structure to hide behind. But it had a flaw. From his ankles down would be exposed.
They found Wingut an entire rev later in the ruble. His feet were gone, turned to ash at the end of his legs. Beyond a remedium. Fortunately, the detonation had cauterized the stumps at the end of his legs, else he would have bled to death. His bionics fit him perfectly and now provide superior performance than his natural feet. Wingut was so impressed with the performance that he took up dancing. Being an agent is the most dangerous job in the galaxy. Best to dance when you can.
“Sure. Once every couple of hundred revs is good. But we’re going to expensive offsite conferences every fifty-four revs. And the costs of the retreats is too high in my opinion.”
There it was, the word opinion. It was one of the words rarely used by historians, and it always denoted significance.
“Are you saying you’ve lost confidence in my ability as head of the History Department?” asked Longley. He leaned back in his chair waiting for an answer.
“Yes. Ever since Earth 4.”
“That was a commercial decision and I have commercial authority for the department,” replied Longley adamantly.
“You killed every human on a planet to secure department funding from the Terros Corporation for the next million revs. And you don’t see anything wrong with that. Do you remember Earth 5, the Austrian? You made him look like an amateur.”
“They were primitives. I won’t have you put them on the same level as the civilized, because they aren’t.”
“And therein lies the most significant cause of my lack of confidence in your abilities.”
“So what is the man that saved the universe going to do about it?” asked Longley angrily.
“As long as you never repeat Earth 4, I don’t see that it is my responsibility to ask for your dismissal. But if you ever attempt anything like that again, I will be in Dean Midge’s office faster than you can say ‘The Last Amalekite.’”
“I’ve always suspected you wanted my job,” said Longley.
“This may surprise you, but I don’t. I didn’t even want to be a hero. I just wanted to become an educator and set sail in the galaxy, a few years here, a few there, until I found a good place to stay for a long time.”
“Well, I’ve wanted this job ever since I got my Ph.D. And now that I’ve got it, I’ll tell you one thing: I won’t give it up without a fight.”
Making learning the center of human existence and subsequently the university the local center had many profound effects. Significant among them was the effect on and of the Management Department. Countless old management theories had been discredited. Management ideas had finally stabilized from the former fashion parade of management ideas, many of them countervailing others. New techniques stressed self-management and distribution of tools to assist in this effort.
*****
Dean Midge was wishing that she were back in a self-managed team working on the Probability Calculator. Just her and a group of mathematicians, bringing her ideas to formulas and back-testing them. Instead she was sitting at her desk with Professor Trill across from her.
“Earth 4, don’t forget what they did on Earth 4,” said Trill. Trill ignored the glass on Dean Midge’s desk that indicated that she had two urgent messages.
He knew that they were news that Professor Klept had escaped from capture on Thetus 9. Trill sighed when he remembered telling Klept that he would be safest on a cruiser traveling. But the physicist wouldn’t listen. Trill had him on a cruiser now, under protection.
“That was a mistake, and I had a long discussion with him after. I don’t think he will repeat it.”
“I would think that it would be significant enough to warrant a special investigator from the Chancellor’s office,” said Trill.
“Let’s be reasonable,” she replied. “After all, they were a Primitive 2 planet. Not like they were going to contribute anytime soon.”
“Yes, that’s important to consider,” replied Trill. He was executing his hard thrust, soft solution.
“Still,” Trill began, “at the time I was so angry with him that I read the regulations on a Chancellor’s investigation. In there I found that any Educator at the Department Head level or above can request an investigation and all requests for investigation are public and must be accompanied by a detailed ‘statement of knowns,’”
“Yes. I reread the regulations in preparation for this meeting and found the same,” replied Midge. “Are you planning to submit a statement of knowns?”
“I am considering it,” replied Trill. “But more importantly, I’ve been working on a new idea of what I call ‘micro-nudges’ for planets in quarantine. These are tiny interventions without direct contact that will permit them to advance at a faster pace. We’ve been writing a book of philosophy to be placed in the hands of several of the notable humans in the quarantine planets. It gives them a pathway forward.”
“Let me talk to Longley. And I also want to talk to Wingut. He’s a good egg.”
Trill remembered his surprise when he saw Wingut on his feet applauding him at the Educator of the 500 Rev Cycle Awards Ceremony.
“Wingut is a smart man,” said Trill.
“And a good dancer,” replied Midge.