Chapter 8-De futuro
"About the future"
December 14, 1894, Friday
By appearance they seemed three colleagues discussing their shared metier; two senior and one hoping to gain their favor. Robert felt it quite the opposite in the drawing room that morning. Two waited for the approval of one.
True to his word, they had granted the young chemist his formal presentation directly to them following the results of his compound yesterday. He had looked over the literature and was very pleased with the results. Now all that remained was Rosalind's review—and as she was head of the department, it was her approval that was needed. She did not make idle chatter, did not ask who his father was, how his mother faired in this weather, indeed, or even what his daily duties were at the Science Authority.
The situation created strong imagery for him. He was reminded, without his control, of his youth.
She was like a governess, with severe dress and uplifted brow, and they like two boys, nervous for the switch for not completing their letters. Her eyes automatically began scanning down the pages, reading carefully and studying every line, and Leander sat forward, hands nearly gripping his knees in anticipation.
Robert turned to offer a reassuring smile to him, but he was so attentive to Rosalind's every action. His tea remained untouched—perhaps he preferred coffee?—and Robert too, had all but forgotten the teacup suspended between the saucer and his lips.
She worked methodically, stopping in places to verify calculations, never once looking at either man. She flipped to the next page, repeating the careful process. Her silence, her reserved authority, was both unnerving and titillating. Yes, it was a much different feeling than his later school days, Headmaster hovering above his shoulder, ensuring each row of Georgics was written. He had never had a woman reign over him since his governess, and he had quickly surpassed her early on. For the next one to be Rosalind, who surpassed every man he had ever known both in life and in writing, well…
"So, an ethylene glycol solvent into the current sodium chloride solution to further depress the freezing point?" she started.
"Yes, ma'am," Leander answered immediately. "With an unprecedented-"
Rosalind glanced up from the papers and he paused, unsure if he was allowed to speak beyond a yes or no. "Ah, I'm sorry," he blurted, perhaps afraid he had spoiled his chances by speaking out of turn.
Robert thought he might have seen the corner of her mouth quirk, but it could have been a trick of the firelight. She inclined her head, an impassive expression about her face. "Continue."
With a nod, Leander sat up straighter. "Yes, with an unprecedented resistance to subfreezing temperatures. A sixty percent glycol and forty percent water will freeze at minus forty-nine Fahrenheit."
"I'm not too familiar with this compound used for this purpose. What is its original freezing point in its pure form?"
"About ten Fahrenheit, ma'am."
"Interesting," she mused. She put the presentation down in her lap and folded her hands over it. "Now, for obvious reasons, you have omitted in writing what brought you to pursue this experiment in the first place, but I'm interested. The state of the city reactors does not usually fall within your department division."
Robert looked solely to Leander now, interested as well. His new solution had come at the right moment, truly it was a blessing, but he was curious. Leander was young, quite possibly the youngest in the Chemistry department, if his memory served him best. Why had it been him and not more tenured gentlemen to not only identify the problem, but take the initiative to find a solution? For Newton it was an apple, for Rosalind, a dream.
"Well, to put it simply, Madame, I saw you and Mr. Lutece struggling with the reactors. I thought I could help."
He gave a small smile, but a number of emotions crossed his sharp features before he continued carefully. "Madame Lutece," he started, searching his shoes before meeting her eyes, "I…have not been in a place quite like this. And to work under extraordinary talents such as yourself and Mr. Lutece is truly inspiring. I may be but a chemist with no business in your work, but that does not mean mine cannot be used for yours."
"You flatter us, Mr. Sinclair." She smiled tightly, as if she was not accustomed to such praise. "But I think you do yourself a disservice to dismiss your work and innovation. Your formula will put many minds at ease, particularly ours."
Leander focused intently on her, face narrowed in concentration. Without that usual open enthusiasm he displayed, it could have been the face of his mythical namesake, determined to swim the Hellespont. It was a far cry from his wide-eyed intake of their home. He paid no mind to the coils beside his chair or the generator behind him.
"What impresses me most, beyond your work, is that you understand, perhaps better than some of our more esteemed colleagues, the true purpose of the Authority. This collection of sciences is meant to encourage cooperation and produce greater results."
Rosalind widened her smile. "Now," she continued, "We are very pleased with your work, and we'd like to incorporate it immediately into city function. Robert has spoken very highly of the actual results and of your assistance-" She paused here and acknowledged him. "With that, we are constructing a seasonal team that will be responsible for preparing and monitoring the city reactors during the winter. As you may have witnessed, it is particularly busy. We are offering you a position on this team with full control over the specifics and monitoring of your new integrated compound. This will be on top of your normal responsibilities with the Authority. You will report directly to us. Would you be willing to take on this post?"
She spoke quickly, concisely, without embellishment, and as she gave her conditions, the eagerness returned to the chemist's face in the form of a wide grin.
"Yes," he exclaimed, slender fingers gripping the armrest of his chair to keep him from springing up from it. "I would be honored to take on the responsibility."
With a wave of her hand she soothed him into a more agreeable state.
"In addition, a modest sum of funding and resources will be made available to you should you wish to pursue further studies for the project."
Their guest sat back in his chair now, fully affected by the sudden endowments extended to him. He took his tea haphazardly from the table beside him and took a large gulp, containing his surprise when he realized he had not put any sugar in it.
"Oh," he sputtered. "Forgive me," he said, retrieving his handkerchief, dabbing at his chin and waistcoat. "I'll be frank and tell you that I was not expecting anything like this when I prepared for this meeting."
"Yes, I suspect you weren't," Rosalind said distantly, and Robert thought briefly about why that was so.
Leander was well enough into his career to understand the unspoken requirements of garnering grants and what hindered him from it; his age, his chosen field, his unconventional ideas. Only a few years separated them, and Robert understood it all too well. The only person to uplift him had been himself.
"You'll find we don't fall within normal expectations, especially Rosalind," he said, grinning.
She seemed uncomfortable with the statement and gave him a frown.
"My apologies, Madame. I shall not make the mistake again."
"Not to worry, Mr. Sinclair," Rosalind smiled again. "We're just about finished here. Do you have any questions for us?"
With his mouth hung open, Leander looked like he had a plethora of questions, but he asked only, "When will the team start work?"
"Immediately. I will discuss the details of the team and introduce them at our division's meeting in a few hours. You'll meet afterwards. Tomorrow is the weekend, but you understand firsthand how urgent the matter is," she implied.
"Of course. I look forward to working with you and the other members." Truly he exuded an intensity that spoke of his enthusiasm.
"So do we," she said and stood, prompting the men to do so as well. She extended her hand to Leander. "Mr. Sinclair, it has been a pleasure."
"Yes, it has," he beamed, shaking both their hands.
"We'll see you later this afternoon," Robert said, walking him to the foyer. "You have a good day, Mr. Sinclair."
Leander nodded. "I shall. You and Madame Lutece as well." On his way out, he tipped his hat to Gwen and gave a different smile altogether. "A pleasure seeing you again, Miss Gwendolyn."
Robert stood behind her, and though he couldn't see her face, he could hear a certain interest in her response that he had not heard before with their other guests.
"Remember, the department meeting is at 1pm," he said after Leander left. "You have the rest of the day free after that."
"Of course," she nodded.
"Good. I thought it best to remind you, since last week was atypical. I doubt we'll be getting as much notices this afternoon as the rest of the week." The temperature this morning was notably higher than before, allowing him to rest easier. There were still fluctuations with reactors coming in to them, but at least the influx and the urgency had lightened to the point of attempting to return to a schedule that resembled normalcy. "If you need anything, Rosalind and I will be in the main room."
He left her to return back to Rosalind, who was still engaged in the drawing room, eyes poring over Leander's work. The rate at which she absorbed information was extraordinary, even better than his at times—and he need only look over something once thoroughly to recall it—but he understood that her action was the beginning of her unacknowledged habit that started on Friday mornings.
She was not nervous for these weekly meetings; nervous would imply that she had no control over the situation, and he had never seen anyone wield as much control as she in an academia setting, but she became very critical of herself in those hours leading to it. She triple-checked her work, became almost irrational with her meticulousness. Her attire was at its most severe, often times, matching his, and for the briefest of windows, she was at her most frigid of temperaments.
The transformation was most jarring in his early days, and still, he looked upon these Friday mornings as a form of separation between them. The most obvious fact of it was that she held a position—two in fact—as head of the Physics division and of the higher Physical Sciences department. Try as she might to lobby and insist that he held it too without revealing their true nature, he was subordinate to her. And it was his insistence that raising him to her would be detrimental. Whispers of nepotism were the least of his concerns. He sat on a fine line of contentment and joy when he was in that lecture hall, brushing shoulders with the brightest gentlemen scientists, all surpassed by a woman more clever and brilliant than they. He might stand up and proclaim it all if only to see her brow unknit and gaze warm. Her cold piercing stare, so quick to find him and anchor him to his seat, was enough to wash those idyllic thoughts and prose from him completely.
Robert knew it best to just leave her be in these hours, although he was immensely curious of her thoughts on Leander. Gathering their used teacups and saucers, he asked quietly, "What's your opinion of him?"
The sound of papers lowering caught his attention, and he glanced up to see her stare at him with that same expression that had caused Leander to falter.
"Already?" she drawled.
He shrugged, all he could do in that intensity.
She clucked her tongue, looking wearily at the papers again. "His mathematics are impeccable, as is his grammar. Very formal."
Rosalind glanced at him again, knowing she had not given him the answer he wanted. "He's very…eager?" she tried, and she nodded. "Yes. He's eager." She thought a moment longer. "But he's also very observant. A valuable trait."
"He reminds me of myself. When I was younger," he added quickly.
She perked an eyebrow, but she was still irascible. "Feeling nostalgic? At your ripe old age?"
It was almost a jeer, her tone bordering mockery.
"Hardly," he scoffed. It was unwise to attempt speaking to her in this condition, especially about his time before crossing over, but he felt strongly about what they were doing with Leander. They had the opportunity to propel his career.
"Does this have anything to do with your eagerness to use his compound?"
"No," he clarified. "You have his work in your hands, seen the results. I'd have approved of his method even if Fink presented it to me."
She gave him a look, though this time her expression softened slightly into a more pleasing one, that she thought the idea preposterous.
"You know what I mean," Robert muttered. "I'd be mildly suspicious, naturally, but regardless, I'd still use it if it meant greater efficiency. And we know Fink approves of that if nothing else."
"True."
She fell silent, going back to her preparations. Robert lifted the tray and started his way to the kitchen.
"I—er…What do you think about all this?" she said suddenly.
He halted. "About?"
"About giving this all to Leander. So quickly. It's very unorthodox."
"Well," he started, placing the tray down, "There may be some wounded pride, perhaps even rumors that you play favorites."
Rosalind looked annoyed, but no longer with him. "I don't see why. It shows that hard work, ingenuity, and cooperation are rewarded. Not age or career length. Or names," she added derisively.
Or gender, Robert finished in his mind. "It could also mean we become inundated with every idea, good or bad."
"And when we turn them down, what then?" she posed. "More wound-licking, but better ideas. And eagerness."
He considered it a moment, not particularly fond of what was to come. "It will be a while until those results show, but yes."
He picked up the tray once more, intent on letting her be undisturbed, as he usually found worked best, but she called to him, "Um, could you perhaps look through these and make sure I've not made any errors?"
Looking at her face suddenly, he saw her ferocity tamed and replaced with a slight vexing concern. She had never directly asked for his help in her meeting preparations before.
Robert smiled gently. "Of course."
She always began with a simple 'Good afternoon, Gentlemen', never louder than normal speaking volume.
The clamor of formalities exchanging ceased immediately, and there was the shuffling of men in their seats, of sporadic sniffs and coughs, exaggerated by the weather this time of year.
"Good afternoon, Madame," they chorused.
Taking a place in the front row, the farthest seat on the right, Robert wondered if it was always like this in the beginning, this immediate obedience. Had they been cold, uninviting? Had she done some strong-arm demonstration to establish her dominance? Of course, this was not university or some dissertation review. She had reviewed them, before the city had even risen. They had no choice but to accept her as their superior, and she was a fine one at that.
Perhaps it was that etiquette trumped pride. No man dared forget their manners in front of a lady, not in open view of his peers. The thought prompted another one, one he hadn't thought before: had his presence affected their behavior in anyway? He might never know the answer as he'd never bring it up with her, casually or otherwise. Sifting through her memories was not an option either. Best not to have an incident here, then she'd have real reason to direct her ire at him. The issue was not important, anyway. This was quite a charming group of men. Perhaps Rosalind's mood was affecting him.
Attentions focused, she skipped the pleasantries, beyond acknowledging Dr. Pelletier, Science Authority Director and Head of Health and Human Services Department, who was sitting in today. She broke her stony facade momentarily to give the older gentleman a genial smile; she thought very highly of him, and so did he. Or was that Rosalind's memory influencing his again?
Robert rubbed at his temple, banishing his weariness and any thoughts born of it that could incite another episode. He was immensely glad they were transferring the bulk of the reactor upkeep onto a group of individuals and not just he and Rosalind. He didn't think he could handle the weight of it much longer.
She began with the usual point of order; review of last week's details, an outline of today's. He knew much of it already. She offered the floor to Mr. Isaman and Mr. Gardner to speak on their respective department divisions. Mr. Isaman, balding crown reflecting the sun that shone through the glass roof, spoke only of the Chemistry division's need for replacement bulbs for their spectroscopes. Mr. Gardner reported that the Mathematics division was doing well, no issues at the moment, or at least that was what Robert thought he said. Sometimes it was difficult to understand the man's harsh staccato no matter if he spoke slowly. German was not his best or favorite language.
Rosalind thanked their colleagues and spoke now of the Physics division, which itself did not have any pertinent issues that needed to be addressed on the agenda. Their labs, though independent, fell under the umbrella of the authority whenever the city was involved, and so she spoke of the current issue with the reactors. It was a continuing discussion for the past few weeks, increasing in length each meeting as the winter presented itself.
Since he already knew what she was to say about the matter-God knows he lived it-he turned his head casually to survey the sea of gentlemen. They leaned forward in their chairs, eager to hear the latest, even those who had not been affected by it in the slightest. He suspected it was an underlying primal fear of falling. A city in the sky was only good if it stayed afloat, and men slept soundly if they knew it did.
"I'm very pleased that one of our colleagues has developed a deicing compound able to handle the extreme temperatures that affect us at this altitude," she revealed.
Heads angled and a low buzz of whispers started as they tried to determine who among them had the honor of pleasing Madame Lutece. She seemed to know it too, because there was a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips when she said, "Mr. Sinclair, would you care to elucidate us briefly on your compound?"
All eyes fixed on Leander in the fourth row, and he sprang up from his chair. "Certainly." He smoothed his jacket, buttoning up as he came to the front of the room. "Thank-you, Ma'am."
As he began to share his work, Robert examined him more fully. He was much more confident now that his father and brother were absent, although with his serious expression and posture, he was stricken with how much he now resembled them beyond the biological. Interesting how that was, how people assumed the habits of those around them, especially since it was usually without conscious thought.
And he glanced at Rosalind again, without his conscious thought, he found. Who had she developed habits from? There were many they shared. The both of them tilted their head when they stared at the chalkboard, or shuffled a pen across the desk to convince themselves they weren't idle. But according to Rosalind, he only ran his hand over his chin in deep thought like Father, or scratched at the place where his jaw met his neck. That may be the case, but she only hovered like Mother and scowled like Father until she got what she wanted. She used them in conjunction to create an entirely new mannerism that was solely her own. His father and mother never commanded such presence like she did.
As she rose again to speak once more and address the learned men, she looked to him like a red-haired monarch of old England from the pages of his schoolboy lessons, poised, yet defiant to let tradition dictate her life.
"So in the wake of Mr. Sinclair's compound, we will go ahead with implementing a seasonal team to handle the reactors…"
"Good, good." Beside him, Edward Carlyle muttered his enthusiasm, no doubt the reason being he had only seen him Tuesday for a reactor. A simple man in the Mathematics division, Robert knew him professionally and remembered him easily because he and the four other mathematicians in the seats down the row were the smallest of their department.
"…This team will report directly to myself, and will be responsible for several duties. I've discussed it already in passing with those of you that have expressed interest in a position on it and with Mr. Isaman and Gardner to finalize the selection. Now-" She paused. "Yes?" Rosalind dared the person who chose to interrupt her with a raised hand to speak.
Robert couldn't see who it was exactly from his angle, but a voice, with a tone dangerously close to implying something, spoke.
"Has the compound already been tested? It seems so quick between this week and the last that something is ready for use without proper time for development and testing. Authority standard of operations states that-"
"—That," she cut him off, and several men, stunned, snapped their eyes to her, "All new developments must first be presented formally with proper documentation and preliminary tests before approval by at least one division head and Head of Department. Yes, we are all well-versed on standard procedure here, Mr. Whitman," she said coldly.
She gave him a withering glance, and even from the front row, Robert could see the man visibly shrink in his chair. Rosalind let the stunned silence hang for a bit. There was an expression of hardness and dominance about her face, and it secretly delighted him like earlier; how a single look from her had reduced a man to humiliated silence.
"Gentlemen," she said. "Please raise your hands if you have been directly or indirectly affected by the weather's effect on the reactors; if you have spent a sleepless night as your residence sunk several feet below benchmark."
Over half, quite possibly three-fourths of the men in the lecture hall raised their hands. Whitman, who did not raise his, sunk lower in his chair.
"Thank-you. You may put your hands down." Looking at her challenger once again, she continued. "In answer to your question, Mr. Whitman, yes. Mr. Sinclair's compound has been tested in the freezing early hours of the morning. As you've just witnessed, the urgency and need of such a solution is palpable. And as I've just explained before you interrupted, both Mr. Isaman and Mr. Gardner as division heads have given their approval, as have I. It is a bit unorthodox in the manner of its exposition, but the appropriate steps were still taken to ensure the best interests of the city. I apologize that this bothers you so much, but when you present a viable solution to any problem to the Authority, we'll make sure that it follows standard procedure," she added. "Are there any more questions?"
A hush had overcome the lecture hall and not even a cough or sniff broke the heavy silence. He couldn't speak for the other men in the room, but his silence was one of admiration. He had never seen her this volatile, this fierce. He yearned, in the deepest part of him, to see her at the beginning of her career, when she fought the hardest. Her fury was not unbridled. Pure, honed, polished, swift; it was like Father's prized rapier, precious and powerful once its skill was displayed. Robert wasn't sure what had overcome him so suddenly to think these things.
"Now," Rosalind said again, as if she had not been interrupted, "The team will consist of six people, two from each division. If you've been chosen, please have a seat in the front row after I've dismissed everyone. For the rest of us, there will be no department meeting next week in lieu for the Authority Christmas luncheon and the start of the holiday. Our next meeting will be on the 28th. Thank-you very much for your attention. You are dismissed."
When she was finished, everyone stood up and began their usual chatter. There was a manner of excitement now than prior to the meeting. Men spoke about the team, about the return to normal routines, and of the upcoming holiday. Robert stayed his chair for the new team members while Rosalind fielded any private questions. Carlyle was one of the chosen, and he turned excitedly in his seat towards him.
"Were you part of the decision process, Mr. Lutece?"
He adjusted himself in his seat to face him. "Yes, I was."
Carlyle smiled. "Thank-you very much for considering me. I expressed my interest, but didn't think I'd be chosen."
Robert leaned in, grinning. "Actually, I was the one to finalize your selection," he revealed. "Your work on the spatial anomaly a few months ago was very dynamic and adaptive. We'll be needing much of that for the project."
"I'm- thank-you!" Carlyle said, nearly flustered by the comment. Robert thought he shouldn't be. After all, the man's work was impressive. Why shouldn't he be chosen?
"You have only yourself to thank, Edward. Rosalind and I are only recognizing your hard work."
Indeed, they were. This was probably an external influence of the citizens once again, but he thought there was no better place for he and Rosalind to revolutionize the field of science. So much was new and ripe for redirection, but it was still apparent by Leander and Carlyle's reactions that much work had to be done for that to occur.
In the seat next to Carlyle, Marcus Spencer, the other mathematician chosen for the team, sat quietly, but listened to their conversation.
"Spencer!" Robert called out, if only to prevent Carlyle from thanking him again. Not that he was displeased, but people thanked him far more than necessary for the most logical of things. "Good to have you, man. I was telling Carlyle about the significance of Authority work being a factor in the decision process. Your rigorous reworking of Dirichlet's diagrams and proofs are what we considered, as was your ability to spot the flaws in them. We cannot afford any mistakes where the city is concerned." He offered both of them his hand. "I hope I'm not stealing Rosalind's introduction, but I am looking forward to working with the both of you."
He glanced at Rosalind to see if she was ready to start with the team. She was conversing with Dr. Pelletier, but she caught his eye and smiled for the first time at him that morning. They talked for a few moments more, and she finally made her way over. Her icy demeanor was beginning to thaw, he noticed. It put him in a better mood, and it was also an invitation to join her side once more. He stood up to speak with them.
"Good afternoon," she greeted the smaller group. Besides Carlyle and Spencer from Mathematics, there was Leander and George Peterson from Chemistry, and Ashley Eames and Claude Warren from their own Physics; many young faces stared back. Warren and Spencer were the most senior, in their thirties with their own families. Hopefully, that wouldn't divide them too much. "The six of you have been chosen because we think you are the best choices for this important project. I don't need to reiterate the priority of this for the city."
"We believe you can not only handle the extra work, but produce the best results," Robert said. "We will be candid-"
"-There will be long nights and early mornings. If you believe you cannot handle the demands-"
"-Feel free to come to us-"
"-There is no shame in admitting this job will be too much-"
"-Because it will be demanding."
They paused and looked at each team member allowing them time to speak, but it looked more that they were a bit taken aback by their speech pattern, than of the information.
"Good," Rosalind said, the corner of her mouth perking. "I suspected as much."
Robert opened the folio he was carrying and distributed a document packet to each of them.
"Today is mostly for us to get acquainted. There is no work to begin at this moment to allow you to finish your remaining duties for the week."
"If you'll take a look over these packets tonight, we can begin preliminary work tomorrow afternoon right back here. Is that arrangement sufficient for everyone?"
Whether it was or not, Robert was fairly certain no one was going to object. They all gave their confirmation.
"Well, then," she bowed her head. "I wish you all a very pleasant rest of the day."
Their new team gathered their things and made sure to thank both of them before they left, conversing animatedly between themselves in the way challenging work usually created. It left him in high spirits that they had made the best decision selecting these people. Apparently so did Rosalind. She watched them for a moment and smiled at him in the empty lecture hall.
"Shall we get some lunch?" she asked.
Robert presented her his arm, a growing grin on his face. "Let's."
A/n:
Whew. Thanks for being patient everyone as I worked out this chapter. This is the longest one so far and the most difficult for me to write.
Thinking ahead:
-With Robert and Rosalind's new positions in Columbia, do you think they'll be able to impact the science community in ways that they've always wanted to?
- And with the issue of the reactors mostly solved, they can return their attention back to other things, like infusions, and the Christmas party! Hrrmm. Shopping seems to fit in there as well.