ask my name not be listed on the faculty roster and would expect you, my fellow colleagues, to be extremely discreet if any questions about my whereabouts or my research are asked.”
At this point, everyone around the table was exchanging mystified expressions, including Curnow, who narrowed his eyes and actually set down his Blackberry.
Omega leaned back in his chair. “Well then, those are my conditions. Take me or leave me. But, as I am under the unyielding thumb of time, I must have my answer … today.”
For several moments, excited murmurs and head-to-head conferences began around the table. Chairman Hyden called for order and Omega amiably volunteered himself to submit to any further questions from the committee that might help them in their decision.
Frank Curnow took an undue amount of time to probe hard at the nature of Dr. Omega's secret research project and the length of time required to complete it, but Omega deftly avoided responding in specifics to his questions, indicating only that his research was in genetics, primarily with vertebrates. The most he would say was that a large carnivore was involved. A minimum of one to two years, he estimated, would be required for the results to be published.
Juliet Marsh indicated how she appreciated Omega's not wishing to displace any of the faculty, which led Dr.Groff to ask exactly what kind of a class load Omega was expecting. Perhaps he should go one or more terms without teaching if he liked?
Actually, Omega responded, he really enjoyed teaching and was looking forward to getting back into the classroom. Was not that the true purpose of science, after all, to pass the torch along? He thought he could be settled in and ready to begin a class by fall term. One class—he specified seniors—and, perhaps later, an additional graduate seminar would be about right.
Groff mentioned she was putting together a summer lecture series. Did Dr. Omega think he could be a guest speaker for one evening? Would it be an imposition?
Omega smiled and thanked her. He would be delighted, would consider it a pleasure. Just keep it small – the CSU student body only. “No TV crews,” he added with a wink.
Omega answered the remainder of their questions patiently until it seemed they had run full circle and were beating around the bush at the same issues.
At length, he said, “My dear colleagues, I sense there are still some unspoken tensions here you are too polite to address. I know my coming here is unusual. I know I have proposed some things that may seem a bit unorthodox. What can I say? I simply ask you to have faith in me. I promise you, I will not let you down.”
Frank Curnow cleared his throat. “Just one thing more,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Your name. James Omega is not your real name, is it?”
Omega smiled. “Why do you ask? Is something wrong with it?”
Curnow smirked. “No, of course not. It’s just that a name like Omega … I’ve never heard it before, except maybe in some old 1950’s science fiction movies.”
This time, Groff did manage to kick Curnow under the table.
Omega’s smile tightened. He had forgiven the doctor’s lack of manners about as many times as his patience would allow. “I assure you, Dr. Curnow. There is nothing fictional about me. I am as real as they come. And so is my name.”
Bill Hyden coughed loudly and stood. "Ah yes, well then, well then ... I believe we have sufficiently run Dr. Omega through the gauntlet this afternoon. We thank you all, doctors, for coming, and thank you Dr. Omega. You have given us much to think about.
“Now, if the Committee is ready to terminate this interview, we will excuse Dr. Omega to the waiting room while we attempt to arrive at a decision.”
The committee members nodded heads to one another in the affirmative. Hyden indicated the door with a gesture of his hand. “Again, thank you very much for coming, Dr. Omega. If you will show yourself to the door, Ms. Walker, my secretary, is waiting for you outside. I will rejoin you shortly in the foyer with our answer.”
“Of course,” Omega said and, quietly rising from his chair, strode for the door. But he stopped just short of it and turned. “By the way, Dean Hyden,” he said, motioning with his eyes toward a large salt water aquarium on the other side of the room, “your poor fish are about to poach.”
“What?” the Chairman muttered.
“The temperature of the water is too hot.”
Hyden walked over to the aquarium and squinted at the tiny thermostat. “Why, you're absolutely right. It's a full five degrees above what it should be! But, how could you know? You couldn't have read the thermostat from across the room.”
“I know,” Omega replied with a grin, pulling the door closed behind him as he finished over his shoulder, “because the fish told me.”
The heavy brass lock clicked shut and the room stood in silence for a very long moment.
“How'd he do that?” Derk Long broke the silence, shaking his head in amazement.
“He's a biologist,” Annie commented stiffly. “A very observant one, obviously. He saw how the fish were behaving, that's all.” But, having said this, she pursed her lips and looked strangely at the door through which a very amazing man had just exited.
Heads slowly nodded agreement, while an unsettling question mark seemed to float almost tangibly above the faces around the table.
The chairman stood, tapping his pen on the tabletop for attention. “Okay, folks. Let's tackle the subject at hand. In spite of the unusual circumstances, sound judgment tells me we should not question our good fortune. James Omega could do great things for our university. A mind like that—here! He's as much as begging us to take him, asking so little and offering so much in return. I don't need to remind you President Hewitt has taken the effort to call me personally on this matter. Therefore, as Chair of this committee, I move we accept James Omega's application along with the conditions he requests. All in favor?”
Curnow was silent as the others responded in an eager affirmative and he knew when he was licked. If he voted no, he would never hear the end of it, from Hyden, from President Hewitt and especially from the beautiful, hard-nosed Annie Groff. Begrudgingly, his hand joined theirs.
“Wonderful! Then the voting's unanimous,” Hyden said, delightedly rubbing his hands. “We will therefore offer Dr. Omega a full professorship in the College of Natural Sciences, Department of Biology, contingent upon the negotiation of a satisfactory salary, benefit and tenure arrangement. Meeting adjourned.”
Everything about James Omega irked Frank Curnow. Now, he was coming to CSU, asking for a job. It was ludicrous! Why would a PBS superstar give up all his publicity and prestige at the University of Chicago to come to little Fort Collins, Colorado, boasting no more than 140,000 residents and ignobly titled by its student body as “Funtown, U.S.A.?”
It didn’t make sense. Omega already had everything. His television series had made him as famous as Carl Sagan. He had three or four bestsellers in his hip pocket, not to mention numerous public appearances on the late night shows, and who knew what else waiting in the wings! Why give all that up? Omega’s simple explanation that he needed ‘a change of pace,’ didn’t fly. There had to be something in it for him. Unless… Curnow recalled how the mongoose thing had led to a rash of accusations and litigation. What if the man had been discreetly offered his hat by the
