Persister: Space Funding Crisis I

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Persister: Space Funding Crisis I Page 5

by Casey Hattrey

Chapter 5

  “Name?”

  There was a real life human behind the desk, asking her to state her name. The central hub had even gone to the trouble of constructing a booth for this person to sit in and a crude turnstile that barred the way through a narrow corridor to the hub orbital. Arianne could see in metaview that the person’s name was “Grace le Tupp”, and Grace could see hers. She’d heard stories about strange rituals, could this be one? Then she noticed the paper. Grace was surrounded by piles of actual paper. Arianne had never even seen paper.

  “Er, Karen Arianne”

  “And what is the aim of your visit to the Central Academic Funding Council Administration?”

  Good question, thought Arianne. To investigate murder?

  “Um … business?”

  “Right”

  Grace made a mark on the paper in front of her. Arianne peered over to get a better look. What happened if you made a mistake on paper?

  “And what is the purpose of your visit?”

  “... also business?”

  “That was your aim”, Grace huffed. “What is your purpose?”

  “Oh, I see. I, er, I’m here for a meeting with …”

  With who exactly?

  “... some people.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “I only just arrived, I’m not really sure even why I’m here.”

  “All right” more marks went onto the paper, then Grace performed a rapid, smooth movement and stamped the paper with a plastic stamp so hard that Arianne jumped. Grace glanced at her disapprovingly. At least it looks like I’ve been admitted, thought Arianne.

  “And what are the goals of your visit?”

  This was slightly worrying.

  “Errrrrrr … to have a meeting with some people?”

  The poised pen above the paper faltered and large, tired eyes were levelled at her.

  “Look, lady, I let your answers so far slide. The last one had a limit of 4,000 words and you barely mumbled a sub-heading. We both want the same thing here, so why don’t you just play along, OK?”

  Something about the intonation of the last sentence reminded Arianne of Professor Golden, and she was thrown immediately into Academic Achievement Mode.

  “Meetings are what organise society, drive the economy and perhaps even define us as a species. But planning meetings may be the hardest problem in science. While there have been many notable meetings in the past, there is a growing need for new approaches and methodologies. My goal is to further the well established convention of having meetings by constructing a collaborative space for organised congregation. This will foster an interdisciplinary conference - of which I have a vast experience as participant, organiser, reviewer, auditor and tea lady - and continue the legacy of internationally renowned talk sessions held by the University of Io - one of the top 10 Universities most resplendent in their capacity for parley. We envisage a series of workshops leading up to the meeting, cumulating in a pan-galactic convention, a special issue, book series, a dedicated journal and biscuits. The potential for likely obtainables is feasible. The replicability of the planned meeting will be matched only by its public impact, which includes satisfying the most relevant questions of beautiful security personnel - ”

  “All right, don’t push it”

  Grace finished scribbling down the transcript and peppered the page with a dozen stamps in a series of Teppanyaki flourishes. Arianne signed with relief as Grace set the page into a bin to one side.

  “Now, what are the objectives of your visit?”

  “Oh Bollocks”

 

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