How It Ends: Part 1 - The Evaluation Read Online Free PDF

of many of the former associates of
the university. Sidney hoped another decision might be
forthcoming.
    Dr. Sidney Hermann, Associate Dean of the
College of Robotic Studies, NYU.
    Sidney wiped his palm on his pants. It was
moist. He didn’t want to greet Dean Whittaker with a moist hand. He
didn’t think that alone could be a career ender, but why take the
chance?
    Sidney was in his late-forties with dark
short hair. He’d begun to bald three years ago and the crown of his
head was now just visible. He was doughy and carried most of the
weight in his midsection. He had thick short fingers inflexible but
strong. He had jowly cheeks like a walrus with a mouth hidden
somewhere. He had bright brown eyes as curious as a five year old
in a toy shop. His clothing was as ill-fitting as his skin. A loose
suit draped on his bulky body with bits of fabric sticking out here
and there. Try as he might to clean up his appearance before his
meetings he invariably arrived in a shambles.
    He walked up the grand staircase in the main
administration building for the Robotics College. He puffed and
puffed. His hands were moist again. So was his brow. He fished for
a handkerchief in his pants pocket, then his suit pocket, then his
jacket pocket and failing to find one anywhere he used the
underside of the arm of his jacket. It left a moist mark that
Sidney hoped would be hidden when he met with the dean.
    He walked down the hall until he came to the
dean’s office. He opened the door.
    Shirley sat at the receptionist’s desk
typing on the computer’s keyboard.
    “Good morning, Dr. Hermann.”
    “Good morning, Shirley.”
    “Dean Whittaker is running a bit late. Would
you mind sitting down and waiting?”
    “Certainly.”
    Sidney sidled up to one of the chairs
against the wall. It was a plush chair with royal blue fabric. He
eased into the chair but found it difficult to do without making
the chair groan under his weight. He felt like a circus elephant
posing on a three-legged stool, nervous that the chair might not
hold him.
    He had not brought anything to read so he
was left to make circles on the far wall with his eyes. He fidgeted
and shifted in the chair every few minutes. He was not
comfortable.
    Twenty minutes later one of the two large
wooden doors behind Shirley opened. Through it stepped Dean
Whittaker, smart in his blue suit with a razor-sharp part in his
steel gray hair.
    “Sidney.”
    Sidney struggled out of the chair. He cursed
his body.
    “Dean Whittaker.”
    He extended a hand which the dean took.
Sidney flinched a bit when he realized his hand was moist. The dean
seemed not to notice.
    “Come in, won’t you?”
    They entered the office. Sidney marveled at
the plushness of the ornately designed rug on top of which sat the
Dean’s expansive desk. The desk was empty save for a monitor which
was currently off and a piece of paper. The Dean motioned Sidney
into a chair and Sidney took it, an act that was much like spilling
himself into it more that it was sitting. Dean Whittaker took his
chair on the other side of the desk.
    “How are the courses going this year,
Sidney?”
    “Very well, sir.”
    “And the student body?”
    “Not bad. Not as bright or agile as last
semester’s crop, but still, there are some rough jewels in there. A
couple of people we might be able to groom for the industry.”
    “Good.”
    Dean Whittaker paused before going on.
    “Do you think there would be any issues with
the student body if a substitute took over for you for a few
weeks?”
    Sidney was caught a bit off-guard but tried
not to show it. A few weeks? Earlier it was a few days. Sidney had
a natural kind of paranoia that tended to take over when things did
not go exactly as he expected them to. He began to perspire openly.
Shit, he thought. What’s going on?
    “Sir?” he managed.
    Dean Whittaker smiled. “Nothing to worry
about, Sidney. I just have something else in mind for you.”
    “What would that be, sir?”
    The dean sat