• Graded • Degree of Separation

[Maltruism]

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Degree of Separation

27 Vhalar, Arc 717

Professor Hamilton-Smith had been looking over the collection of research his upcoming charter applicant had completed. He was glad now that the dean had been present when he'd first looked into her collated paperwork, or he'd probably have dismissed it, and her, out of hand.

It was only his presence that restrained the sarcasm that lurked perpetually beneath his exterior. He had an obligation to give every applicant the same fair chance at a degree. But this proposal that blood was divided into separate elements, and could facilitate the compatible element into a different person's bloodstream was borderline insanity.

The truth was he'd considered the possibility that some rival had gone to lengths to have this student's assessment pawned off on him specifically to add a measure of mockery to his resume. But the dean's endorsement had forced him to grudgingly peruse the all the proposals and theories, experiments and results, findings and references, and everything else contained in the file. His first glance beyond the opening proposals had supported his preconception that the whole theory was absurd.

At least at first glance...

As he gave it more open-minded review however, opportunity knocked within his mind. His own renown had waned somewhat lately. It was not that anything he'd done prior had been discredited. But there was a developing "what have you done for me lately" attitude rearing its ugly head among others on the faculty.

"Jealousy...the insufferable coat-tail riders..." he muttered to himself.

He had a great reputation among past graduates as the singular motivator for much of their success. But the operative word here was "past". All the glowing testaments in the world were worthless in the face of the last few seasons spent going unremarked since. This woman, Faith, was presenting something revolutionary in concept. But better yet, her work was credible, undeniable even; it was ordered in almost courtroom efficiency, the predictable questions from one phase being immediately addressed in the next; it was concise but detailed; supported by easily-understood diagrams and graphs; and...

...it was currently in his hands...

The thought of somehow attaching his name to this project sent shivers up the metaphoric spine of his diminishing reputation. He looked toward the door, beyond which the woman would now be waiting, probably nervous enough to be agreeable to an offer of corroborative endorsement. He rang a bell on his desk and an attendant looked in through his door. "Send her in." he said in a by-rote tone.

[Faith Augustin]

The young woman who sat outside the office of Professor Argus Hamilton-Smith appeared, to the outside observer, to be calmly sitting with her hands folded in her lap and just quietly waiting to go in. Waiting for her in his office, the man who Faith would soon be marrying, who was connected to Faith with bonds of love and also linked with divine blessings, well he would know differently. She was a bag of nerves and it was a feat of truly remarkable discipline that she did not wring her hands or fidget. But she did not do any of those things, she simply sat.

Faith had put a lot of effort into her final Charter submission. It was too important for her not to do so. She was very aware that, to many, it seemed impossible, but an acceptance of the impossible as just that was limiting in the extreme. It was not something which Faith was prepared to do; it was impossible until it was done and she constantly challenged herself and the boundaries of what could and could not be. It was, to her, an entirely logical and reasonable way to be and Faith saw nothing remarkable in her achievements. She was simply doing her best as part of a team.

So she sat and her nerves were held firmly in check. The disciplined young woman had put them into her hands, as she always did when she had emotions which she could not afford to deal with in the current moment. So, when the assistant called her in, Faith stood and adjusted her clothing. Her pregnancy was progressing, but she had only just entered the second trimester so the bump was still a neat but noticeable swelling of her stomach.

Tapping the door, as was polite, Faith waited until she was called in and then in she went. The young woman did not seem nervous as she smiled in greeting. "Good morning, Professor," she said and when she was bid to do so, she sat down, put down the briefcase which Padraig had bought her for her birthday, neatly placing it next to her then folded her hands together in her lap. Then, she turned silver eyes to the man and she waited patiently for his instruction or question. There were no papers or anything on her lap, she was able to remember everything, thanks to the blessing of Vri and so she did not have to fuss with notes and so on. As she sat there, Faith realised that she was no longer nervous. Now, she was just calm.

[Maltruism]

The professor immediately smiled his most genuine smile upon Faith's entrance to his office. He took her hand amiably and gestured with his off hand to the obvious chair she was to take. He gathered up all the submitted paperwork and returned to his own chair, whistling softly and raising his eyebrows to suggest a difficult task ahead.

"Well, well...Professor...Faith? That is right, is it not? No last name? I understand we can anticipate there being a new last name some time in the near future?" His clumsy attempt at small talk was voiced as a question. He may have even meant well, but ultimately, even he grimaced at the awkwardness of it.

"I'm sorry, I suppose private matters are just that. I assure you it has no impact on any decision I come to here." He flashed through the first few pages, nodding his head approvingly. The indication of impending approval slowly waned as he eased back into his seat. He leaned back stroking his chin, appearing to be searching for the right words.

"And this decision is not as easy as you might think." he gave her a chance to make some protest. If she did, he would be acting as if he agreed with every word she said. If not, he would still continue the same way. "I am not saying the work is insubstantial or inconclusive. I'm not sure, however if it is complete."

He once again gave a pause in case the woman chose to object to his words, "You must understand, I have complete faith in...your work" he grimaced slightly as if only realizing the play he'd just made on her name. "I'm sorry again. That really was unintentional. But in all fairness, this is revolutionary, this entire theory. But even that is not the problem. It's more that with such a concept, every stage must be reconfirmed."

He set the folder back down on his desk, much of it left unread. He patted it like the cheek of a child, "Look, I sympathize..." he began with a sad shake of the head. "But your ties to Famula are well known. And this is clearly an extension of her sphere of influence. Many will assume that she snapped her fingers, or blinked her eyes, or whatever she does; and cast some effect on your tests and results to ensure success."

He held his hand up now to thwart her comments, "And those who do not know of your association with her will figure such a revolutionary concept and some base component of blood, being separable from the other, and being compatible with someone else'...well they'll think it's madness emboldened by the use of some kind of magic. You'd have done better to go only with the first part of your proposal, and not try to force this much new thinking through these tradition-mired halls all at once."

[Faith Augustin]

A good posture. That was probably the longest lasting gift of being a slave, Faith thought. That, and the emotional resilience she had. "Yes, just Faith. I will become Augustin later this season." He knew Padraig, she knew he did. With a quiet thank you, she sat and folded her hands in her lap. Her silver eyes regarded him as he apologized, then assured her that her wedding to Padraig would have no impact on the outcome here. What a strange thing to say, she though, but she simply looked at him impassively with a slight smile on her face.

And then he spoke, and explained why he thought her idea would not pass muster. Faith listened, the same calm look on her face, the same half smile. She listened and she nodded her head here and there, when he made a point which seemed to require an acknowledgement or response of some kind. She was polite, she listened to his words and she she considered them. He was a professor, he was doing his job and it was important that she did listen to him, that she gave him a very clear answer and that she recognised that he knew this much better than her. There was no need to thwart her comments, no need for him to pause and listen to her explanation, for she gave none. Not until he had spoken.

"I see, Professor." Faith looked down at her hands, clasped tight together as they were and she watched them for a few moments and then she lifted her head to look at him. "Thank you for your insight. It is very appreciated." Her silver eyes were calm as she continued to speak. "But I must be misunderstanding. You are suggesting that this would not pass because of politics, and I am submitting a charter in medicine." She smiled at him, her entire demeanor calm, placid and friendly. "I would hope and expect that my colleagues and seniors would question it. That is what scientists do." Each stage had been tested and tested again, she did not need to tell him that. Others would repeat it, she was sure. That was just fine. Let them, she wanted them to. Only by such would it become better.

There were no grand gestures, no big speeches. That was not her way and never had been. Faith was softly spoken, unlikely to argue with anyone and yet she had a streak of determination which was incredibly strong. "The science is sound, the procedures work. I hope that it is tested time and again and any flaws found and identified. Thus, more lives will be saved. As for the tradition mired halls?" There, in that moment, Faith gave a slight and gentle smile but she seemed a little amused. "Tradition is the remit of history and philosophy. Not science. Forgive my impatience," in truth she seemed calm and anything but impatient. "As much as politics is a reality for some poor souls, I am nervous and excited for the consideration of my work as a scientific academic endeavor to begin. Did you have any questions about the content?" She smiled at him, friendly and unwavering with steel in her eyes.

[Maltruism]

Hamilton-Smith allowed his expression to just hint at discomfort. He followed suit with his guest, nodding and gesturing politely to display his complete support of the woman's position on now things should be viewed by the academic and medical community. But it was not long before a troubled sigh slipped free to mark his apprehensions.

he shrugged in what would come off as helplessness, "Of course, of course you're right. And I am truly sorry that I'm in the position of being the one who must thrust the harsh facts of political interference into a finding that ought to be based on academic merit alone. I've looked this over and agree that it all adds up. Anyone with an open mind would. And I have absolute confidence that any creative angle of approach, taken by anyone trying to discredit this, will meet only failure."

He stood as he spoke, ambling slowly around to lean back against the front of his desk. He looked down upon his visitor with eyes that spoke only of sympathy. He took a deep breath, "But I fear most institutions will not even give this a chance. How to say this...diplomatically?...This is not Viden. We are only a subsidiary campus. And you are not Evelyn Grey, or even Trandino Adarius. You're a junior professor at what is essentially a supplementary campus."

He tried to say this with a tone suggesting that he was in the same boat as she was - an effort at humility - the better to dismiss this misplaced modesty and embrace his renown, solely for her benefit of course. "This is not a matter of whether your work would stand up to the scrutiny the medical community should focus upon it. I fear that they will dismiss it out-of-hand on the assumption that it was the grace of your Immortal connections that enabled it."

Hamilton-Smith believed he'd now "set the table" as best he could, "I think you need an additional name on this. One that will not immediately inspire thoughts that this revolutionary concept probably only worked because the Immortals willed it so. The academic and medical world will want to see a name connected to this that is not connected to magic or divine influences. I know that they had nothing to do with your development of this theory, or it's testing and confirmation. But I honestly feel it will be far more readily received if co-written by someone NOT known for Immortal favor."

He stammered as if grabbing random ideas from the office space, "Well...even...well, even me..."

There, the seed was planted, now was the time to downplay it, "Or someone like me. Not a world-shaker, by any means, but a...reasonably well-known name; and one that is not going to set eyes rolling by closed-minded traditionalists who will not give it a chance. Someone with enough past success to be seen as a name that could have rested on its laurels. But who will also be seen as someone still striving to introduce innovation; and finding it in the work of a young, up-and-coming new name that is in need of established backing."

He smiled and shrugged; someone having had a point that was now made, "Anyway, I'm sorry if I seem pessimistic. Perhaps I'm completely wrong. I just felt compelled to present the possibility. The choice is, of course, yours. I will certainly sign off on your charter, Miss Faith." He seemed to have sudden difficulty finding his quill, as he waited to see how the young professor would respond.

[Faith Augustin]

Faith listened to him and considered his words. She didn't speak during the whole time that he spoke and she listened carefully to what he said. He talked about thrusting harsh facts at her and Faith wondered if he was right. Yet she knew, at the same time, that she had to be responsible for her own actions. If he was right, if the medical community would ignore this, then that was one thing. But he wasn't talking about the medical community, as such, he was talking about the academic one. The medical community included the Order of the Adunih, where she volunteered and which was already using her techniques.

Did the academic community matter? Faith considered it and had to come to a simple conclusion. If it was being used in the field, in practice, then the academic community would catch up or it would not. It was saving lives that was her job, more than anything else. This did that and, in practice, it was already doing it. She was indeed a junior professor at a small university subsidiary campus, but Faith didn't care about that. It was like this professor was talking about something other than she was. That was it, she realised, that was exactly what he was doing.

He was talking about something that she simply didn't care about.

So, the earnest young woman sat and listened and then, when he couldn't find his pen, she leaned over and reached out, picking it up for him and handing it to him with a helpful, and very genuine, smile. "Thank you, Professor, that is excellent news. As for the points you made, thank you for giving me something to think about." She didn't want to tell him that he was talking about academic credibility which didn't matter to her in the slightest. What mattered to Faith was simple. The techniques here were being used to save lives; if people ridiculed her academically, then they were probably giving someone else a break and as such she had no problem with it. She searched her brain for a way of telling him, whilst still speaking the truth and not offending him.

"Professor Carter told me that doing my Charter without a mentor would be hard, and he was right, but I told him that I am happy to stand or fall in terms of academic credibility on what I do." Faith was quiet and calm and just entirely self assured. "I maintain that. Thank you, though, I appreciate your viewpoint." She smiled at him and said no more, waiting for the sign off which would mean that she, finally, had her charter.

[Maltruism]

The Professor's face twitched slightly, "Something to think about?" He quickly recovered his composure, "uhh..not to impose a course of action, but what you should be thinking about is that more people will be saved sooner when all hesitation is eliminated by those who should be embracing the brilliance of this new concept, of yours."

There was the briefest of pauses as he thought to add the last two words. "My only viewpoint is that adding a name that might cut through this resistance, will bring this revelation to all four corners of the world all the sooner. Surely your oath to Moseke would make this something to be assumed."

He was standing now, his face trying to convey encouragement, but falling short for lack of his gaze being consistently directed at Faith. Though it frequently came back to her, it seemed to be more focused into some vague, distant reality. His voice slowly began to rise in excitement as he embarked on an imaginary path of steadily-progressing academic glory.

Slowly the wording began to be oriented more on the actions, successes and gained renown of"us" and "we", leading eventually into "me" and "I", rather than "you". He ended up at the window, in a posture of challenge against an unbelieving world, promising his vindication and triumph.

A sudden burst of derisive laughter echoed up from the corner of the campus quadrangle below Hamilton-Smith's window. He stiffened suddenly, and then looked out and down to see a student receiving a round of mocking applause from some of his fellows as he lifted himself and some papers from where he'd slipped on the grass. The professor slouched slowly, his back still to Faith, as he took a deep slow breath.

He turned slowly, his eyes meeting Faith's for only an instant before they dropped to the floor of his office. His face reddened in shame as he trudged his way back to his desk. "I am so very sorry, Faith. Clearly, I am more obsessed with the current stagnation of my rise in the academic world than I realized."

He turned the charter papers back to right-reading position for him and signed his name with a flourish. He sighed heavily as he pushed the papers across to Faith, now fully endorsed. "Please forgive me, my dear. I have acted disgracefully." He 'tsk'ed himself several times as he shook his head. "Trying to attach myself to your work...Fei's Favor! I would not have believed I could feel pressured to sink to such low behavior."

He held his hand out, his eyes clearly displaying a sad apprehension that the woman may not even take it. In either event, he offered her congratulations, and assured her that he would fully endorse the conclusions of her charter in the face of any level of contention. When she left, he sank back in his chair in self-reflection, not particularly liking what he'd just seen.

But he was a good enough man to log this incident against his own self-esteem; keeping it at the front of his self-appraisal to gauge the potential presence of any such future conniving. He did not wish to find himself ever again resorting to such a tactic.

[Faith Augustin]

He was not at all happy with what she said and he told her so in no uncertain terms. Faith sat and listened to what he said and she was quite prepared to answer, when he gave her a trill in which to do so, and to explain that thanks to her work in the Order of the Adunih, this already was being used by people across Idalos. Moreover she was happy and, in fact, keen to discuss the difference that she saw between people who were academics and concerned with politics and theory and those who practiced medicine. It would be the kind of conversation Faith was happy to have, in fairness, but he did not really give her a chance to speak. Which made it less of a conversation and more of a diatribe or monologue, on his part, but that was how it was.

Then, however, he continued and he explained his vision; what he saw and what he perceived as important. As he did, Faith could not quite help but feel rather sorry for him. It started as about 'us', but became about him, his glory, his academic success. Faith simply did not understand it and could not comprehend the thought processes or the motivation behind his words, his dreams and his aspirations. All that she knew was that his perception of the world, of the work that she did and the priorities a student of medicine should have ~ all of those differed from her own wildly. They were, in fact, completely at odds one with the other. It simply was not her way. This was not about glory for her and frankly, if it bothered him that much, Faith would be happy to sign the work over to him. She didn't need or want any glory from it and to her mind whose name was on it didn't matter.

She didn't say that, though, because it was clear that the Professor was in this for his own gain, his own kudos. That was not acceptable to her, it put in jeopardy the work itself; what lengths would he go to in order to ensure that his name and reputation remained intact? No, Faith would not do that, not at all.

However, he spoke and he signed the papers and Faith looked at him with a smile and then reached out and shook his hand. "Thank you, Professor." The young woman was not in a place to judge, he felt that he had to do something, to pull himself out of the place he was in. She could understand that, but at the same time he was focusing on the wrong thing, to her mind. Clutching the piece of paper which meant that she had achieved the Charter she had dreamed of one trial being allowed to study, she looked at him and wondered if she should speak. In the end, of course, she did.

"If I might, Professor, and I have no wish to be pushy. If you would ever wish to work collaboratively, I have found that the best ideas and the greatest recognition of what is needed come, for me, from my work at the Order of the Adunih." He didn't actually practice medicine any more, she knew and so he wasn't on the field. That must be very frustrating. "Of course, that's just me. Thank you again, Professor."

And with that, she left.

Off Topic

FYI: Education Ledger proving she has the requirments in terms of threads. There are two threads with this title - they are different threads. Her knowledge for Medicine are currently 86 and Surgery 49, so she more than meets the requirements there. Thank you so much for moderating this for me!

[Maltruism]

Come and get your Loot!

(There's plenty more where that came from)

FAITH:

XP Rewards: +15

These points can NOT be used for magic.

Knowledges:

• Bellinos: Eidetic: Perfect Recall of Your Charter Work
• Detection: Stalling for Time by Pretending They Lost Something
• Detection: When a Superior Seems Threatened by an Underling
• Detection: When the Interviewer Feels More Pressure Than You
• Discipline: Maintaining Composure While Awaiting a Vital Interview
• Endurance: Posture and Poise Aid Long Moments of Stillness
• Etiquette: Not Reacting Until It's Your Turn to Speak
• Interrogation: Interview Tactics Can be Quite Similar
• Interrogation: Trying to Trip up a Subject With Distorted Facts
• Persuasion: Show Genuine Eagerness to Have Your Work Tested
• Persuasion: Stay on the Main Point, Ignore Peripheral Remarks
• Politics: University Staff Also Face Constituency Pressure
• Professor Hamilton-Smith Acknowledged his Poor Behavior
• Professor Hamilton-Smith Wanted to Gain Status Through Your Work
• Psychology: Challenging Yourself from Assurance, Not Doubt
• Psychology: Offering a Cad Forgiveness for His Behavior

Loot:

Your Medicine charter!!!

Loss:

Just a few moments of your time

Injuries:

Nothing to speak of

Fame: +10

Hamilton-Smith will still try to ride your coattails by being sure everyone knows that HE endorsed the charter of such a remarkable and gifted student.

Comments:

I was not about to have the professor actually be rude, but Faith is unflappably self-assured. I could not find an angle to trip her up.
She's cool as a cucumber made of ice.
Once again, the biggest trouble I face grading your threads is finding knowledge you do not already possess in near identically conceived and worded form.
Mostly then, my only recourse is being sure that the knowledge states some aspect of the circumstance, because that's often the only difference.
PM me with any comments or concerns