And Baby Makes Three - Cover

And Baby Makes Three

Copyright© 2010 by Pedant

Chapter 9

Tuesday at SciTech whizzed by. Weena had heard nothing. But after dinner the phone rang.

"Hollister. Hi, Captain. I understand you spoke with Weena yesterday. Yes, I know what she said. Did you heed her? Really? And what did she say? That's silly, I know it's not true. How could you be the loveliest man in the whole world when I am? Right. So ... what will be the result? Hmmm. Isn't that rash? I know you're angry. So would I. When will she be released? I'll tell that to Weena, she can explain it to me. Right. Look, calm down. If you go back there all tense and steamed it won't help Willy. Have you spoken to her folks? Right. Right. Well, ring us tomorrow. This is a good time. We just sit around and I record contractions. I'll explain it some other time. Be gentle with her. Night."

"I think I got most of that."

"Yeah. He followed your instructions; she said he was 'the loveliest man in the world'; he sounds ecstatic. But she's running a low-grade fever and they won't release her until that's gone for 36 to 48 hours. She also has a massive haematoma. He's afraid to call her folks. That's about it."

"I don't think the fever is a worry. Most like just a bit of residual shock and healing. She's lucky. The femur has a bit of a curve to it, the shot must have cleared the bone on the outside. Did the surgeon make the required joke about bikinis?"

"Yes. I told you last night."

"Must have gone right past me. Start timing again."

"Do you recall where they're from?"

"No. I know it's been mentioned, but I don't recall. I'll call Sally again tomorrow and see what the truth is."

"Truth?"

"The nursing staff know the truth, no matter what the surgeon tells the Captain."

"Of course."

When I got in on Wednesday I asked Mona to see whether I might talk to the Dean. She set it up for after lunch. I wasn't quite certain whether he really cared at all, but I was going to try to relay the disquiet I'd sensed among the faculty.

I was greeted with the expected handshake and big smile. But when we sat down, I decided to be open.

"I hope you don't mind my coming to you, but I heard some – uh – distressing news and thought I'd communicate it."

"Of course, of course."

"I was having coffee with several faculty members and the loss of faculty was mentioned. You may recall that Jurgen returned to Switzerland when his mother was ill and remained there when she – uh – passed away. That meant the Centre for Evolutionary Biology had no entomologist and, in fact, there was none in the School of Animal Biology, this school. There is an introductory course offered within Agriculture, but that's not enough.

"The faculty noticed. More importantly, they noticed that it was as though the Centre had just lost the position. No one was appointed in one of the other disciplines either. So it appears to them that the University is killing off the Centre – as individuals leave, there'll be no replacements. And when the Centre becomes unsustainable, the remaining faculty will be reassigned.

"Now, I was sent here 18 months ago after the University made a number of promises to Canberra. And while the promises haven't been broken, Animal Biology has certainly not been actively supportive." I sat back. He'd been very good; not interrupting, seemingly attentive.

"Yes. Mmph. I see. Did they ask you to talk to me?"

"Not a bit. I decided to come here on my own. If I were here as an ambassador, I would have said so."

"Without looking, I honestly don't know what happened. But I do know that the head of the Centre hasn't been here asking for permission to advertise a vacancy. And I don't know what's happened with the salary and support money associated with the line. You've given me some research to pursue. Hmmm. Could you come back tomorrow?"

"Sorry, sir. I'm at SciTech Tuesdays and Thursdays. I generally do a group in the morning and a different group in the afternoon."

"Wonderful. How about Friday?" He pushed a button.

"I can be here."

A youngish woman opened the door. "Sir?"

"Put Dr. Hollister down in the first available slot on Friday."

"Half an hour?"

"That should do."

"9:30?"

"I'll be here. Thank you very much, sir."

"My job. And you've posed a most intriguing question." We shook hands again.

As I walked back across campus I mused on whether I had exposed a swindle or a scam, whether the post and money was being hoarded or whether the post was being kept but the money "reallocated." In any event there was hanky-panky at the Centre. I'd know before lunch on Friday.

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