Death of the Rat Page 4

CHAPTER FOUR

  Early on Monday morning, before their occupants had arrived, offices of the addressees of Janet's missives had received hand-delivered copies. While she made her way back to her own office she shuddered now that the deed was irrevocably committed. There was a distinct, aroma of burning bridges in the autumnal air as Janet collected her somewhat hastily collated lecture notes and absent-mindedly set off toward the lecture room.

  Perhaps she should have considered more seriously the possibility of a job in a research institute. The level of distraction and fragmentation of her energies at the University had certainly not helped with her current difficulties in her experimental work. And with her schedule of lectures and meetings it seemed increasingly improbable that she would be able to complete the proposal for her grant renewal to her satisfaction before the rapidly impending deadline. Ah well, she thought, I must press on regardless, recalling the advice of Bob Hayes, 'Remember, when in doubt, wing it!' Which was easily said by someone as spontaneous as Bob. However for a compulsive person like Janet Gordon, standing in front of several hundred people (even if they were semi-comatose on a Monday morning) and extemporizing on a theme with which one feels not entirely familiar, would be only slightly preferable to facing a firing squad.

  At first, Janet shuffled her notes on the lectern. A hundred feet shuffled in response. Her mind went totally blank, receiving only vague impulses of white noise-from the great restless horde of student bodies in front of her. Whatever she had once known about the subject she had scheduled to talk about, filamentous proteins, had congealed in her brain into an amorphous mass of tangled actins, tubulins, and vimentins. She could do one of three things she realized with some clarity: panic; read from her notes until she might recover her lost wits or; ‘wing it’. She finally decided to follow the latter course. Deliberately replacing her notes in the manila folder she took a deep breath, and dove in.

  "Earlier, she commenced, "we examined how the nucleus replicates and transmits our genetic information. Then we saw how the cell membranes maintain that genetic unit as a distinct entity. Today I am going to introduce you to a new area of study, so new that much of the information has not yet received the blessing of respectability by being included in your text-book. I am referring to the means by which our cell membranes can receive and transmit signals from outside to stimulate and control that genetic machinery buried within the cell. Since all of this subject is based upon up-to-the-minute research, some of it going on in our own labs here at Essex U, you may think it too advanced or esoteric for a course such as ours."

  At this point in her dissertation Janet had raised her voice in her customary ploy to bring the class to order. The silence and rapt attention greeting her now left her in no doubt that she was getting more than the usual response to what the class surmised to be presaging an out of the ordinary lecture.

  "In fact," continued Janet conspiratorially dropping her voice, "today's subject is so esoteric it is not included in our syllabus, and hence will not be examined in our term test next month."

  There was a round of good-natured applause. "That's the bad news, for those of you who are motivated to learn only by examination results. The good news is that I will work in an optional question dealing with this on the final exam, so you won't necessarily feel that you've wasted your time trying to follow this."

  Now that she had loosened up her audience, Janet feIt free to expound on her pet subject. If it was viewed by some as indulgent toward her own interests she really didn't care. For some reason, that might have something to do with bridge burning: she had discovered a new feeling of freedom in dealing with her life. If her own true convictions and enthusiasms were not adequate to cope with academic life at Essex U then perhaps she should cross some bridges to another life and burn them behind her .

  "I took your advice this morning," remarked Janet to Bob later in the laboratory

  “Oh Lord” replied Bob with alarm. "What ill-conceived suggestion of mine has been responsible for overthrowing the supreme discipline in your life?"

  "Winging it! I hit a blank wall on my lecture topic, and just proceeded to tell them about what we're doing with growth control factors."

  "Or trying to do," corrected Bob.

  “I suppose I could have idealized it a little bit. But basically I just gave them my symposium talk of the summer, with more background."

  "And how did it go down?"

  "Pretty well I guess. Some people turned off when I promised I wouldn't examine it on the term test. But there were more than the usual number asking questions afterward. Some even wanted references to read up on it!

  "It's too bad there isn't a good comprehensive monograph on the growth factors for such an audience, "mused Bob. " I’ve also had problems finding some general reference for my senior class in Bioregulation.

  "Well, don't expect me to write it! I'm too much embroiled in secondary activities already," called Janet as she went to answer her phone. One down, two to go, she thought to herself a few minutes later when she had hung up. However, the second call didn’t come until later that afternoon, and the third not at all. Perhaps she had been a bit precipitate and presumptuous with her letter writing campaign. Nonetheless, she was committed, and backing off would not be an easy matter.

  For the next few days Jan was totally occupied with experiments, grant-writing, and attempting to bring her lecture schedule back on track. Some of her students were clearly enjoying the switch in her style of presentation more than others. One of the others was her old nemesis, Leonard, who approached her after class one day with an expression of mingled agony and bewilderment.

  "I thought I was keeping up with your lectures perfectly," he moaned. "Until last Monday. You had been following the text all along, then you went off in other directions," he said accusingly. " I can't sort out my notes at all. They're worse now than they were last year with Professor A!"

  "Confess it Leonard," Janet replied. "You really don't belong in this course. You don't have the background. I don't think you truly have the interest to progress."

  Leonard looked both pained and offended. "You can't doubt my sincerity Dr. Gordon," he insisted. "I've really spent hours going over this material!"

  Deliver me from more protestations of candour, prayed Janet. What hours the poor fellow had wasted. Next he’ll be trying to document his sincerity. On cue he responded to the unasked question.

  "I found myself like the others listening with full attention to your talk, and I was really carried away with excitement to learn about your research with mitomycin."

  "Cytomitin," corrected Janet.

  "Yes, That's fascinating work. But is it really relevant? I mean Rollins & Taylor don't even mention these factors. I looked all through the index and glossary."

  Under ’M' thought Janet clenching her teeth. ”Look, Leonard. I have a Department Meeting, five minutes ago. Perhaps we could discuss this and your other problems tomorrow in the tutorial session after the lab period."

  "That's part of the difficulty for me. You see I've been elected as a student councillor," he announced, puffing himself up an inch or two. Our Student Union meetings conflict with the last part of your lab period. And I can't get to any more of the tutorials." He managed to convey righteous indignation rather than sorrow or apology into the statement.

  "Well, I'm sorry I can't schedule a special tutorial for Student Councillors." The irony of the remark was lost upon Leonard, who continued to look hurt that a special arrangement was not to be made for him. "But if you are serious about persisting with this course, you ought to arrange some private tutoring. I’m sure one of our graduate students would be glad to accommodate you.” For a consideration, she thought under her breath, and bid Leonard farewell as she hastened up the stairwell.

  The Department meeting was underway as she entered the Biology Seminar Room, which served also as library, coffee- and lunch-room for faculty and graduate students. The Professor was in the middle of welcomi
ng Dr. R. Hayes as the newest member of the group working on growth factors.

  "On another personal note," he continued, "we should congratulate Dr. Gordon for her thoughtful column in today's issue of the Faculty Review."

  The announcement caught Janet off guard. She had not seen the paper as yet. Her comments had taken the form of a letter to the editor, and she was puzzled by the Professor's reference to a column. Although he had quickly passed on to other business, while on the subject he had clearly signalled a look that conveyed-- ‘I want to talk further with you about this'-- and accordingly Janet remained behind when the meeting adjourned an hour later. The Professor finished a few comments to several people who had also stayed to see him, then invited Janet to join him in his office.

  "It's heartening to see our junior faculty taking an interest in affairs of state," he intoned. "I hope the Dean is not offended by your comments regarding matters discussed in the confines of your committee."

  "No," said Janet. "Actually, I cleared the text of my letter with him beforehand. He suggested a change in a word which clarified the meaning."

  John Antwhistle nodded approvingly. “Very astutely handled. He couldn’t very well condemn both your actions and those of our friend, Archaeopteryx. Although I do believe that our Dean is smart enough to manipulate the murmurings of faculty discontent in his continuing battles with our Principal and the Regents. What about your adversary, the anonymous bird of antiquity. I was really surprised that he didn't have a snappy rebuttal to accompany your comments."

  "I wrote both to the editor and to Archaeopteryx, indicating that I would submit my comments for publication only if they would undertake not to carry a simultaneous anonymous rebuttal. The editor readily agreed to it."

  "And Archaeopteryx, I presume you asked the editor to forward your comment to him. Have you received a suitably anonymous response from him?"

  "None as yet. But I didn't address him indirectly through the Review. I delivered my letter personally."

  "Then he identified himself to you?"

  "In a way, yes. Though I had enough indications for quite a while, enough to make it obvious to me who the anonymous writer was. I think the silent response is ample confirmation that my premise was correct."

  "Are we going to have a public unmasking then?"

  "Not if my letter achieves its objective. I would guess that the mystery will solve itself instead."

  "I trust you realize you can look forward to a continuing entanglement in university politics."

  "Not if I can help it," laughed Janet. "There are already too many strings to my bow! Anyway, I really just wanted to stir up a bit of discussion. Get a few people thinking about the issue, open up the debate, as you suggested to me. That doesn't need to involve me in a big way after all.”

  John Antwhistle smiled approvingly, and paused before responding.

  "There's no doubt I'm sure; you’ve opened a door into the issues of representation and academic freedom. I somehow believe you're going to find it hard now to turn your back and stand outside the doorway of the reform movement. By the way, can I give you a lift to the Plenary Meeting of Governing Council tonight?" Janet accepted gladly.

  Governing Council of the Faculty met quarterly to approve the interim actions of its Executive Committee. The latter, composed of Dean, Department Heads, and a few appointed Senior Professors, convened bimonthly to carry on the academic business of the University. Even the Executive was much under the thumb of the Dean, who structured its activities through the Agenda, Nominations and Operations Division made up of selected Associate and Assistant Deans. The Plenary Session thus concerned itself in the main with generalities, but had little actual involvement with decision-making on policy, procedures, or actual cases. Its major function was a heavy agenda of timetabling and course changes as recommended by the Academic Policy Committee composed of Department Heads. As a rule, Plenary Sessions were attended by faculty members at large with somewhat less enthusiasm than Convocations. However, it was a potential forum for discussion of university affairs, and Janet felt constrained to participate, although she had innumerable tasks with which she could have occupied herself more profitably. A drive from Professor A would at least allow her to get home and change, and would ensure that she would be back to finish her lecture preparation after the meeting, hopefully before dawn, since she had scheduled an early morning tennis practice with her team.

  When they arrived at the Council Meeting it was a few minutes still before the hour, but already the outer corridor was jammed with faculty members drinking a last cup of coffee. Inside, the large amphitheatre was nearly two-thirds full.

  "Largest attendance since they came to the special debate on salary policy," exclaimed the Professor in wonderment .

  "Is this what one might term a 'packed meeting' then?" asked Janet suspiciously.

  "There is certainly a strong contingent from the radicals of the Faculty Union." Indeed Janet could make out a number of the better-known young turks among the faculty, including Terrence O'Meara, and her colleague from the Ethics Committee, Archibald McManus. The latter, seated near the front of the hall , turned, and sighting Janet at the rear, grinned and waved at her. Also close to the podium she could make out a sizeable group of student representatives, including her nemesis, Leonard.

  The Professor, casting an eye in the same direction, exclaimed fairly loudly, " Great balls of fire! What is that bone-head doing here?" at the same instant that the Dean mounted the stairs to the dais.

  "If you mean Leonard," whispered Jan, "he is a Student Councillor this year."

  "Just like the Faculty Union, they seem to favour the academic dropouts and failures," moaned Professor Antwhistle. “Couldn't they devise a minimum standard of passing grades, or at the least a literacy test for our representatives."

  "One of the hazards of tyranny of the masses," murmured Janet sardonically, as the Dean tried to strike some order from the rustling babel of the crowd.

  "Faculty have the gall to complain about student noise before a class," thundered the Professor, "and then they behave like this!"

  Janet pulled her head as low as she could, wishing she were seated elsewhere. Gradually the Dean's gavel became more audible, and finally he secured enough calm to proceed with benefit of the microphone. As in the normal course of events he referred to previously circulated minutes of earlier meetings of the Council and its Executive. A vote accepting the minutes was interpreted as ratification by Council as a whole, not only of its own plenary proceedings held before, but also the intervening actions of the Executive Committee as recorded. However, when the motion to adopt the minutes was put an overwhelming majority of hands rose in opposition,

  "Carried," intoned the Dean blandly without looking up, and proceeded to the next item of the agenda.

  "Challenge," several voices raised the cry simultaneously.

  The Dean stopped in surprise, and, finally comprehending, asked to see the vote again.

  "If there were an amendment to the minutes, ample opportunity was available before the vote," he objected mildly. The President of the Faculty Union, an imposing Professor of Mathematics, rose ponderously to his feet.

  "Mr. Chairman. I believe I speak for many here in voicing the true objection to our minutes. They are not in error in the sense that an amendment of verbiage can correct the problem. The Faculty Council rather expresses a lack of confidence in the Executive Committee.”

  The Dean's eyes narrowed. He and Professor Radlock had crossed swords on other occasions. The mildness of his reply belied the animosity, of his tone. "Executive acts largely under direction of this body. In what issues precisely are its actions at variance with this?"

  "To be precise, the paramount issue concerns representation by faculty-at-large, specifically on the important Committee to Select the Principal. This Council met last Spring, and presented cogent arguments for such representation. It directed the Chairman and its Executive to place its position before the
Regents. In the Fall we return to find that the selection committee is established with a majority of Regents, one of their number as Chairman, and the Executive, having accepted the minority role for members of the academic community, has appointed three of its own number as token scholars to represent us. It is no reflection on the other two gentlemen, nor yourself Mr. Chairman, to criticize the way in which you have been chosen. Quite simply we were given no opportunity to approve these choices. We do not do so now." Professor Radlock was almost seated before he arose once more. "By rights the committee should have greater representation -- elected representation, from the academic than the non-academic constituency. At a minimum we will be satisfied with nothing less than equal representation and he sat down with finality to a loud burst of approbation and foot-stamping.

  "We seem to have a series of procedural dilemmas," said the Dean once order had been partly restored. "The committee was constituted after some negotiation with the Board of Regents. The Executive felt that some balance had been attained, and our nominating committee presented the names. Of course if Council fails to ratify these procedures--"

  "Mr. Dean. If I may," interrupted Professor Antwhistle getting to his feet and taking a stance in the central aisle. "There is, as you note, a dilemma to be faced. Fortunately, the Committee to Select a Principal has not as yet reached any final position in its deliberations. Henceforth the Committee can make no recommendations since it has no legitimacy after this meeting. Moreover, the Regents or their Chairman cannot convene the 'rump' of the committee because the statutes require not only a majority to pass on its recommendations, but a vote of all members without abstention. Since an illegitimate member such as myself may not vote, the committee as presently constituted is paralysed."

  "Do you have a motion to put?" asked the Dean testily.

  "No, Mr. Chairman, I do not. In my position I feel it would not be appropriate. I will leave that to my respected colleague from the science of numbers. However, to clear the decks in a procedural way I shall hereby tender my resignation from the Selection Committee, and leave you to work out some process that may satisfy the meeting." He returned to his seat, collected his papers, and turned toward Janet. "I shall be in my office, so drop by later and I will take you home." At the dais the Dean was leaning forward to confer with Professor Tupperman in the front row, and then, nodding grimly, resumed chairmanship of the meeting.

  It was nearly an hour later when Janet knocked on the door of John Antwhistle’s office, and, with a rather apologetic expression, entered on his command.

  "Has the revolution started?" asked the Professor.

  "It wasn't exactly a declaration of war, but the Council agreed to a sort of ultimatum."

  "Equal representation?"

  Janet nodded and read from her notes. "Moved by Radlock, seconded by O'Meara, that the Committee to Select the Principal be reconstituted to include: five Regents or their delegates; five members of Council, to be elected by Council; the Chancellor to serve as Chairman. Incidentally, you were elected as one of the Council members!"

  The Professor pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows in an expression of surprise. It was apparent from the subsequent smile however, that he was not displeased with this vote of confidence. "And the others?"

  "Radlock, McManus,--"

  "Predictable."

  "So far, yes. The last faculty representative was rather a surprise. Your words of this afternoon were, in fact, quite prophetic!"

  Janet then proceeded to relate the sequence of events after the composition of the committee had been established, and the Dean accepted nominations from the floor.

  "Professor Tupperman and the Dean both seceded from the running. After you, Radlock, McManus and O'Meara had been nominated the Dean was prepared to accept a slate. At this point McManus gave an impassioned speech on the concerns of non-tenured junior faculty, their right to raise controversial issues without fear of censure or persecution, as had been described by one A.J. Gordon in this week's Faculty Review. He thereupon nominated A.J. Gordon, who beat out O'Meara for the last seat in the subsequent election!"

  "So you and I are both on the committee?"

  "I'm afraid that's true. I don’t think many people at the meeting, except the members of our Department and the Ethics Committee, knew who A.J. Gordon was."

  "It seems a heavy responsibility for Biology," sighed the Professor. "Won't there be concerns that we may act as a bloc?"

  "Quite the contrary. Since I am to represent the views of the down-trodden, devocalized non-tenured faculty we may have some difficulty agreeing!"

  "One thing we must agree on nonetheless."

  "What's that?"

  "The time of committee meetings will have to be altered or we shall run out of qualified teachers in Biology 333. By the way, I thought you said that there were to be five faculty representatives on the Selection Committee. You mentioned only four names."

  "Correction, five elected members of Council."

  "Ah, so the fifth I presume would be the Dean, reinstated."

  "No, the Dean refused renomination, and after a strong argument from its President, the meeting agreed to elect one member from the Student Union."

  "And so the President got the nod?"

  "Actually they nominated their Vice-President on Academic Affairs."

  "A reasonable choice, I suppose. Who is it? Anyone we know?"

  "I was hoping you wouldn't ask," said Jan with a sheepish grin. "It's our friend, Leonard."

  In the silence that followed Janet could hear the faint sounds of occasional raindrops on the window-pane. For a half-minute the Professor sat as though frozen in his chair.

  “I suppose," he finally said, "the vox populi must include all strata, not excepting the cretins," and he shook his head slowly in dismay.