The Ghost Apple Read Online Free PDF Page A

probably also lead to significant cooperative ventures on St. Renard, where the company had a substantial interest—it would represent a big step toward financial security.
    Speaking of St. Renard, the president was pleased to welcome Professor John Kabaka, who was a Renardenne himself. Since earning his doctorate from Cambridge, he had been teaching Atlantic and colonial history at the University of the West Indies, Jamaica, and we were lucky to have him with us as a visiting professor this year.
    As the faculty clapped and called out “Welcome!” or “Hi!” Professor Kabaka rose to his feet and asked for silence. Speaking quite loudly in his mellifluous Caribbean accent, he professed himself “extremely angry” about the proposed agreement with Big Anna®. He said that he had not heard anything about this—if he had, he would not have accepted our offer. He could only conclude that he had been lured to Tripoli under false pretenses. He would not disparage the intelligence of the faculty by detailing the many abuses and depredations of that vile corporation, but he did feel impelled to mention, since apparently no one had bothered to acquaint themselves with his work, that he had spent his whole life struggling directly or indirectly against Big Anna® and the neoliberal economic policies—“slavery by another name”—according to which that company justified its stranglehold on his island home.
    This was, at the very least, an excruciatingly embarrassing moment, but the president handled it with aplomb. Without missing a beat or giving any sign of displeasure, she explained that it was for all these reasons that Professor Kabaka had been invited to Tripoli. She had hoped he might function as the “conscience” of the institution at this moment of crisis. She herself was deeply conflicted over the Big Anna® question, as indeed who wouldn’t be? But the truth was inescapable: We could not afford to fill the soap dispensers in the bathrooms. Big Anna® had offered us a lifeline and we would have to take it.
    The president’s use of the word “conscience” seemed to convey an unpleasant impression, at least to the secretary, but Professor Kabaka said nothing.
    There followed various items of no doubt great local importance, but the secretary paid them little attention. There was, to the best of his recollection, some discussion of the Library Digitization Project and then of the rec center, which had been renovated thanks to the generosity of an anonymous donor. The president’s own office had been relocated to the fourth floor of the rec center.
    Meanwhile, Professor Kabaka continued to sit quietly in his little chair, his face impassive, his arms crossed. No one paid any attention to him. It was as if nothing had happened.
    The president now called upon Maura Riesling, professor of biology, who was heading up Tripoli’s new Sustainability Initiative, a program administered by the Office of Environmental Health and Safety. Could Professor Riesling give us an update?
    She could and did, but she limited her remarks to a single sentence, half grim prognostication and half expression of despair. She said, “Sustainability is not possible as long as there are humans on earth.”
    The president, now visibly frustrated, turned the meeting over to Antoine Benmarcus, professor of anthropology and dean of the faculty, who had a few items of his own. Dean Benmarcus wanted to remind us that we would be making no new hires this year. That, he said, is what “hiring freeze” meant. He then gazed meaningfully around the room, but there were no comments, not even from the economics department, which had lately been pursuing a policy of aggressive expansion.
    The dean had a great deal more to say, but it grieves the secretary to report that he allowed his attention to wander once again. There was a game of Ultimate Frisbee in progress out on the quad. It was only the beginning of September, after all, and there was still