Dr. Ruddemeyer smiled grimly. “We did try to interest them in the college as an institution, asked them to keep Edgestow College going. They were not at all interested in that as an option. The only thing they were open to was the purchase of our real assets, which makes sense given their emphasis on GRINS technology research. They had no interest whatsoever in continuing to run the college, no interest in taking that mission on, and informed us that managing an educational institution would be a distraction from their main business objectives. And so we find we have arrived at this unfortunate juncture, facing the end of a wonderful college with an admirable history and heritage.”
Dr. Ruddemeyer’s assistant, Edy Rivera, came to the front and handed him a slip of paper. She also whispered a message in his ear, pointing to the door and the hallway. He listened, then nodded.
Mia turned to Helen, “I know STEM stands for ‘Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics.’ But what is GRINS technology?”
“GRINS is an acronym — stands for ‘Genetics, Robotics, Intelligence,’ — artificial, computer intelligence, you know — ‘Nanotechnology, and Synthetic biology.’ It’s all the aspects of computer science involved in developing machines and software to have human-like intelligence. Used to be known as GNR, Genetics, Nanotechnology, and Robotics, but they’ve since added more to the concept.”
Mia asked, “What color is your envelope?”
“Kraft, if that’s what you call this yellow-y beige color. Looks like I get to stay on.” Helen shrugged and gave Mia a half-hearted smile.
“I’m so happy for you!”
“Yours?”
Mia said, “Oh! My envelope! I don’t know. I didn’t get one of either kind, did I. But white I’d guess. Not much call for Dante in artificial intelligence.” Mia started wondering where her envelope was, why hadn’t she gotten one.
After the interruption, the Edgestow College president continued. “Those of you who received the larger kraft envelopes will find paperwork from iCon, which includes a job description and other details of the offer being made to you by iCon, along with non-disclosure agreements and other forms you must sign and bring to their HQ ASAP following this meeting, should you wish to accept their offer. If you have any questions going forward, I must refer you to Executive Vice President Chase Amunson who will be representing iCon in this matter. Because I also am being let go, as of today.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes again. “This is clearly not the legacy I had hoped for here at Edgestow College. But I want to thank you all for your service here at this fine institution. You truly made this a place of higher learning that we can all continue to be very proud of even beyond the closure of Edgestow College. Thank you each one, from the bottom of my heart, and best wishes in all of your future endeavors.”
Gripping the edges of the lectern, Dr. Ruddemeyer lowered his head, then after a long moment, he let go and stepped to the side of the table. Obviously he was done speaking, but he didn’t make a move to leave the room.
Now that the former college president had stepped aside, the angry voices erupted once again.
— “A committee should have been set up to address the shortfall, and committee membership should have included the faculty.”
— “Why weren’t we informed about this situation earlier?”
— “I had a contract appointing me as chairman of the department, with an increase in salary, starting spring semester. This severance check does not reflect my increased circumstances.”
— “How can the college just close down like this?”
— “What just happened? I don’t understand how we got to this point.”
Dr. Andrew Rogosch, the head of the Humanities and Philosophy Department, moved forward to shake Dr. Ruddemeyer’s hand, with Grant, Dr. Harper, and Mia close behind. The president seemed very relieved to receive these gestures of acceptance and forgiveness. Most of the other faculty stormed angrily out of the room, shouting as they moved down the hall. Mia noticed many, but not all, of the science professors had received the larger kraft envelopes, and looked relieved and satisfied with their fate. No one in the English Department was so lucky — they all were holding white envelopes. Except for her. She was going to have to hunt down her envelope.
Mia approached the president, gave him hug, and then shook his hand. “Dr. Ruddemeyer, I wanted to thank you for helping to set up the transition situation for the students. I know it was due to your efforts that the graduating seniors will be able to get their degrees on time.”
“It was the least I could do. No need to penalize them for this terrible situation.” He glanced at the paper in his hand. “Oh, Mia, I nearly forgot. Mr. Amunson, the executive vice president with iCon that I mentioned earlier is waiting outside in the hall to speak with you. It seems there was a last minute change and alteration in terms of your status going forward.”
6 | Offer
Silently, Chase Amunson approached Mia from behind as she exited the conference room. “So we meet again, Ms. Marwitz!”
Whirling around, she looked up at his head looming nearly a foot above hers. She said, “It’s Dr. Marwitz. Yes, under distressing circumstances, we meet once more, Mr. Amunson.”
Amunson’s black eyes narrowed slightly. “Yes, of course. Doctor Marwitz. Please accept our apologies for the mix-up re: our offer of your carryover membership proposal into iCon.”
Mia thought, “He actually said ‘re:’ out loud!” She noticed he had a large kraft envelope in his hand, and now focused on that, she didn’t really hear what he was saying.
He continued, “— oversight, not an indication of a lack of enthusiasm on our part that we kept you in suspense at the meeting, uncertain concerning your future.”
She thought, “I thought I was being let go! I’m being kept on? They want a professor in Medieval and Renaissance Lit for — what? Teach their new artificial intelligence a little culture?” She couldn’t imagine how one aspect of Dante or Chaucer or how she herself could make a significant contribution to their corporation.
She heard herself saying, “What is this?” as he handed her the envelope, right hand extended for a handshake. As her hand was grasped by his, suddenly the world faded away to black. It was as if her eyes and ears had stopped working, and the sights and sounds of the noisy hall with the laid off, paid off professors causing a commotion in the background were dialed down to an inky nothingness by some unseen master control knob that regulated the entire world. It was as if she had left her body and had been transported into a totally dark, airless, and muffled room and was no longer standing in the hallway outside the conference room. The experience of both sight and sound ceasing to function was similar to that one time in biology class in high school when she had fainted after getting sick and feverish as she was coming down with chicken pox, except now she was in no danger of falling to the floor. The single remaining physical sensation she could feel was contact with the hand that had swallowed hers up in a handshake. Amunson’s hand was huge, hard, and over-muscled. There was no hollow in the palm of his hand where it ought to have been. His palm was convex, bulging outward, and not concave like anyone else’s. So full of its own muscles, his palm was the wrong shape to hold even a drop of thirst-quenching water, even if needed in a life-or-death necessity.
In that dark, silent place where she had been transported, she heard a voice say (or rather felt it in her spirit, since the message wasn’t actually audible), “He has no room for you.”
And then, just as suddenly as she had left, she was transported back into her body, back to the world of seeing and hearing. Confused and overwhelmed by what had just happened, she was embarrassed by being out of control, uncertain of what it had looked like to Amunson. However, he didn’t seem to be aware that anything had happened to her. She decided it must have happened in the blink of an eye, because she was still shaking his ha
nd, that too-solid hand. Now that both vision and hearing had returned to normal, she could once again hear what he was saying. “— those are just a few reasons why Mr. Cezary thinks you have a lot to offer iCon.”
She took a closer look — his hand had six fingers! Noticing what she was looking at, he said, “I see you have become aware of my hands’ distinctive feature. Yes, I have six fingers, and no, I did not kill Inigo Montoya’s father, and no, I do not need to prepare to die.” He roared with laughter, still snaring her hand in his.
She smiled at the reference to her favorite movie. “Funny,” she replied. “I love that movie and would have enjoyed taking part in the dueling, taking Inigo’s place to avenge the murder of his father committed by the six-fingered man.”
“Inconceivable! Keep in mind that Inigo did suffer during that duel, rather pointedly.” Amunson roared again with laughter, then abruptly stopped, all trace of humor totally banished from his face as he dropped her hand.
Mia said, “There were no plastic buttons blunting the tips of their weapons, were there.”
“No, indeed. There were not. Just some very sharp points.” After a pause, he continued, “Well, as I was saying, inside this envelope is an expression of our interest in you coming to work for us at iCon. We’re inviting you to play a part in our efforts, stay on to help us in our dream to shape the future of a changed and improved humanity. Please, look over our offer and let us know by the end of the day if you wish to accept. It is my sincere hope that you will decide to join us, and become a part of our team. ”
Mia said, “Notify you by end of day today? Thank you for the offer, but I will need more time than that to look things over. I need to find my footing in the middle of all these changes. It’s all happening so fast. Figuring out what I need to do next will be my immediate goal. The closing of Edgestow College has caught me completely off guard.”
Amunson said, “Well, yes. I can see how you would like to be on guard. Perhaps there’s another consideration that will influence you to decide in our favor. It’s a small perk, but we do intend to keep on with the fencing club, and would appreciate your continued participation. In addition, we’re also willing to hire your department’s assistant, should you decide to become a member of the iCon team. But we will need to have your response by tomorrow morning.”
“On Saturday?”
Amunson frowned, and Mia swore she heard a low snarl. He said, “I see your point. An email no later than Monday morning by 9 o’clock will suffice. We plan to hit the ground running. There really is no time to waste. The future is rushing toward us, inexorably.”
He grabbed Mia’s hand again, once again air kissed it, then just as abruptly dropped it, spun on his heel, and strode away down the hall. Mia noticed how he was built on a larger scale compared to the other people congregated in the hall. Taller and wider, as if constructed using a more massive, larger than human template, he looked like a different species altogether, carrying an animalistic, taurine energy about him that made the other people around him seem like insects in comparison. Mia was disgusted by the contrast between the beast aspects of his appearance and the air of refinement he tried to cultivate. She shook her head and said, “In-EX-or-ab-ly. Frack, who says inexorably?”
Mia shook her head again, and then she checked her cell phone — it was a little after ten o’clock. What a crazy start for the day! She hoped nothing else would go askew on this crazy day. She turned to go back to her office in Flanagan Hall to check out the contents of the kraft envelope there, in private. Outside in the atrium (still a gray, cold, and windy winter day), she stopped in shock. Standing on ladders, two workmen in brown insulated overalls were taking the statue of Jesus down from the wall, laughing and making jokes about the task.
“After this, we can tell people that we took Jesus down a notch or two today at work.”
“Yeah, and then I’ll be able to say ‘Oops, my bad! I broke Jesus up into a million pieces!’”
And whether it was intentional or not, they did drop the white limestone statue off the ladder, but it didn’t break when it hit the pavement. The statue had not broken even though it had bounced off the fountain’s edge and then down onto the brick walkway. Mia would not have believed it if she had not seen it for herself. She walked closer for a better inspection. Not damaged in any way! Improbable and impossible, but the fragile looking limestone was completely unharmed. She looked up at the workmen on the ladders and asked, “What were you going to do with the statue?”
“Per orders from iCon management, it’s headed for the dumpster along with the other things we’re clearing out today.”
“Can I have it then? I’d like to rescue it.”
“Sure thing! Save us from carting it around the building.”
“Great! Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back with my car.”
As she drove back from the parking lot behind Flanagan Hall, she felt very protective toward the white statue, reacting against the idea of it being hauled away as trash. “They can’t just throw Jesus and the little lamb away!”
She parked and popped the trunk of her black cherry sports coupe. After wrapping the statue in a blanket, the workmen helped her put the seventy-five pound statue into the trunk of her car. She said to them, “Thanks! Thanks so much for your help.”
Driving back to her parking spot with the statue, she began to have doubts about her decision to keep it. “What have you done, Mia Maria? What will you do with a statue? I’m probably going to be moving soon. On the other hand, if I accept iCon’s offer and don’t move, maybe I can build an atrium in my backyard. Or even build a chapel around the statue. Pfft! What a bad idea that would be!”
Her time at the evangelical church (which came to an end after being shunned and barred from attending) had soured her on religious people and places. However, her experience with Jesus had never been included in that bad feeling. Jesus had always been different, her connection to him genuine, something really real. She was convinced that on the rare occasion when she did pray — like when she would pass this statue in the atrium — there was always someone who was listening to her, paying attention to what she said. But in her normal day-to-day routine, she felt reluctant to approach Jesus with requests too often, in case she might be overstepping her bounds and discover that someday the door would be slammed in her face.
She thought, “Maybe Jan can ask people around town, maybe someone will want to take the statue. How strange a day this has turned out to be! What else might happen?”
As she quickly walked from her car to her office, Mia pondered the meaning of the strange episode that had happened to her when she had shaken Amunson’s hand. She really had no means of evaluating the experience, let alone deciding what she should do about the message she’d been given. It wasn’t like anything she had ever experienced before. In fact, she’d never even heard of anyone experiencing anything remotely similar. Not at all. Transported to a darkened place where she heard a silent voice — this was nothing like getting vibes from shaking someone’s hand. This wasn’t a quiet, static-y message indicating what a person thought or felt about her. This was something else altogether. The one thing she was sure of was that the message hadn’t come from Amunson.
At one extreme, maybe the message meant nothing. Maybe it was an indication that the stress of the college closing and getting an unwelcome job offer from iCon had unhinged her mind with anxiety. But that wasn’t how the experience had felt. She hadn’t felt out of control or lost or overwhelmed — before it happened anyway. She had been in her rational mind the whole time. In her right mind but suddenly removed from her body and the location where she had been standing. Was that even possible?
At the other extreme, the message, “He has no room for you,” might mean something essential to her future. It might even be a prophetic word from God. Was this how prophets received messages from God? If she w
as strictly honest with herself, the experience did feel like she had been given a word from God. But Mia was reluctant to use the word God in connection to what had happened. She wasn’t a prophet. She wasn’t even psychic. Thinking God had spoken a prophetic word to her seemed ridiculous, didn’t seem possible.
But suppose, in spite of it being a ridiculous idea, suppose the message really was a word from God. If that was the case, what did it mean? Was it a warning of some kind? Didn’t exactly seem like an instruction to turn down the job offer. Or an instruction to do anything at all. She had been offered a job, a place on the team at iCon, so how was she to make sense of the phrase, “He has no room for you”? Obviously, there was room on the payroll, and they had a desk for her to sit at. But also obviously, God would know what the contents of the envelope were, so most likely it was a message about the job offer after all. But then again maybe it wasn’t about iCon. Did the message apply to Chase Amunson himself? “Frack it! It makes no sense. At all.” Mia decided she had to stop thinking about this confounding and distressing prophecy. There were too many other problems weighing on her mind right now.
But one thing made sense now — the location for the iCon HQ (almost straddling the property line with the college). Seen from a unified perspective with a single owner of both properties, the placement of the new building directly south of Noonan Hall made more sense. Mia thought, “It’s almost as if five years ago, they knew they would be buying out Edgestow College someday.” However, why would they plan for that five years ago? It would be foolish to assume it could ever happen. If you would have asked anyone at that time, the answer would be that Edgestow College was on rock solid ground financially and would be around for another hundred years. Everyone would have guaranteed that it was an impossibility for the campus to ever become available for purchase. And yet Edgestow College, that well respected and financially solid institution, had done what was considered unthinkable and had come up for sale at a bargain price. Had iCon been hoping, planning just in case someday they might purchase the college? Why? They made it very clear today that they don’t want to own an academic institution, not of any kind. What was unique about this campus, this property that iCon couldn’t find anywhere else in the world? Nothing Mia could think of, nothing that a multi-national corporation of any kind could want. But what if it was true, what if the company had planned to buy out the college all along? Did that mean Noonan Hall was the reason iCon had come to Barrow Heights in the first place? What did a college science building constructed more than one hundred years ago have to offer iCon? Mia shook her head. It made no sense.
No Geek Rapture for Me_I'm Old School Page 9
