Dean Midge’s office was well adorned with books. They lined the walls of the room, except for the glass wall that permitted a view of the campus.
“Would you like something to drink?” the dean asked the three men seated at the table at the other end of the office from her desk. Orplan Midge would have preferred working on the Probability Engine with a team of mathematicians. She hated her job. And it was supposed to be a reward. Some reward.
“No thanks,” said Wingut.
“Nothing for me,” replied Longley.
“Yes, please,” replied Trill. “Pluto water if you have any. If not, then regular water.”
Dean Midge poured a glass of Pluto water into the tall, curved, asymmetrical glass. She walked back to the table and handed it to Professor Trill before sitting down.
“These charges of interference are serious,” said Dean Midge.
“I would like to point out,” Wingut started, “that there is one of us that is not required by professional code or law to be truthful.”
“Are you calling me a liar? How dare you, you overpaid, over-celebrated little pile of shit,” Trill said in anger. “I will report you to the administration for professional slander, you bastard.”
“Is this meeting being recorded?” asked Wingut.
“Yes,” replied Midge.
“Then it should be noted that my parents were legally married at the time of my birth,” replied Wingut with a triumphant look.
“Asshole,” replied Trill.
“Gentlemen, please,” said Longley, who had been silent during the walk to the meeting. He was not feeling confident of his control any longer. Professor Klept had escaped capture again.
“I apologize for how you misinterpreted my statement of fact,” said Professor Wingut. “My words could have been chosen more wisely.”
“Asshole,” Trill repeated.
“Leo,” said Dean Midge, looking at Professor Trill, “attacks on History Department agents must cease immediately. Let me be quite frank. This is a threat to your position. Do I make myself clear?”
“Orplan,” replied Trill, “I would never authorize my people to kill an agent of the History Department. Even one as useless as Koven Modi. What they are accusing me of is stupidity, and I take that as a personal insult.”
“We have a dead sociologist as evidence,” replied Wingut.
“I don’t know how one of the people in my department managed to get themselves killed in conflict with a historian. Again, I have never authorized anyone to kill, hurt, or harm a historian. Not in any way. Nor would I. Let me make it clear, I’m not stupid.”
“OK. We’re obviously not going to get progress here, so I’ll make it very clear. Leo, I want you to remove your people from Earth 7 immediately. Not tomorrev, torev.”
“And what is the price of failure?” Longley asked.
“Sociology will lose any chance of a custodial planet,” Midge replied.
“You weren’t seriously considering that, were you?” asked Longley.
“Yes I was,” replied Midge. “Also, if there are any further incidents, I will reduce the budget of the Sociology Department by twenty-five percent for the next two kilorevs. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” said a withered Trill.
Later that rev, Trill sent a message to his agents. It was mean and abusive. He fired both of them. He told them that they were worthless, more worthless than Modi. They were a disgrace to the Sociology Department and he could not understand how they ever achieved a Ph.D. And then he threatened to have their academic credentials and all degrees removed, a threat he could not deliver upon.
And for a few moments after he sent the message he felt better.
But with a few tox of reflection he realized that he had just sent a message that contained evidence of Trill as he truly was. It also contained threats against the academic achievements of a fellow professor. This violated numerous policies of the university and could result in a disciplinary action.
Professor Leo Trill then spent the next fifty tox creating a second message. It started with an apology for his previous message. They were not fired. Nor were they incompetent. He instructed them to take an extra ten revs of vacation immediately, adding that it would not be counted against their vacation accrual but would be paid for by him personally. After which they should report to his office for a new assignment.
And it ended with words that caused the bile to rise to his throat.
“Thank you for all your hard work.”