Autumn is a horrible time of the year. Leaves fall off the trees, the days are grey and wet and the sun is fast becoming a distant memory. All this makes me tired. Sometimes I think one of my ancestors must have been a bear or something and I’m really supposed to go into hibernation. I’m not up for anything these days. Although I do have lots to do I just can’t get my ass up. Well, with one exception: when I have a date with Cromvik. We’ve been on quite a few dates now, and I have to say: I like the man, he manages to bring a smile to my face no matter what the weather is like. I’m seriously contemplating telling him that I really was responsible for the whole new dean thing. I think I can trust him with my secrets now.
November 8, 2011
September 8, 2011
I hate bullies
I’ve had some busy days at the HoK working through all the things that had been piling up on my desk while I was gone, but now I’m pretty much back to business as usual. Of course, just as I was leaning back in my desk chair to enjoy that feeling of finally having done everything urgent my Azectlotl, Asmodeus, contacted me telepathically. I looked through his eyes and saw two young men bullying a third. Now, I don’t know about you, but I despise bullies. Might have something to do with me having been bullied once or twice in my youth, until my magical abilities had developed enough that I could defend myself.
I jumped up and quickly tracked them down. When I arrived, the two bullies were having fun using their magic to scatter the younger man’s papers. The boy was quivering with helpless anger, trying to snatch his stuff out of the air.
“Enough,” I said and snapped my fingers, breaking the bullies’ magic. Papers fluttered to the floor all around the three men now standing frozen. A quick flick of my fingers and the scattered papers gathered themselves into a neat pile in the young student’s arms.
I released him from stasis with a short wave. “Go. I will take care of these idiots.”
The youngster didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately scrambled off.
“And now, to you.” I fixated the bullies with my most fearsome gaze, resting my hand on Asmodeus’s head. The big cat-like creature obediently showed it’s poisonous teeth. I released them from the stasis I had put them in so I could see them squirming while I kept on staring.
When I finally spoke, they flinched, just as I’d hoped. “I do not tolerate bullies in my HoK. In fact, I reserve the right to punish anyone misbehaving in my HoK severely. You two are about to find out just what severely means.”
The taller one puffed up his chest in false bravado and actually dared to sneer at me. “Pah. Put us in detention, see if I care. You can’t hurt us, it’s against university rules.”
I smiled a toothy grin in return. “Pain, dear boy, is the method of the weak-minded. I don’t need to hurt you physically to teach you a lesson.”
Before he could get himself into even more trouble with his attitude, I turned around to bring them to the HoK’s “detention” room.
And saw Cromvik standing at the other end of the aisle. My smile immediately turned genuine. “Hi. Would you like to see me punishing these two idiots?”
He grinned. “No thanks, I might get nightmares. I just wanted to say bye before I went back to my office.”
Wasn’t that sweet? I have to say I’m liking Cromvik more and more.
We chatted for another bit before he left and I took the bullies to a room that I had specially designed for punishing bullies. It is a square room filled from top to bottom with cardboard boxes. One of these boxes holds the key to the room. Every other box contains a spell. The two guys would be spending the afternoon fighting all kinds of ingenious little spells, for example wedgie-spells, itch-spells, hiccup-spells … you know, all the things they think they are experts in administering.
Ah yeah, an eye for an eye – that’s my kind of punishment.
What do you think: is that the right punishment? Or do you have a better idea? I’m always happy to learn about new punishing methods :-)
I jumped up and quickly tracked them down. When I arrived, the two bullies were having fun using their magic to scatter the younger man’s papers. The boy was quivering with helpless anger, trying to snatch his stuff out of the air.
“Enough,” I said and snapped my fingers, breaking the bullies’ magic. Papers fluttered to the floor all around the three men now standing frozen. A quick flick of my fingers and the scattered papers gathered themselves into a neat pile in the young student’s arms.
I released him from stasis with a short wave. “Go. I will take care of these idiots.”
The youngster didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately scrambled off.
“And now, to you.” I fixated the bullies with my most fearsome gaze, resting my hand on Asmodeus’s head. The big cat-like creature obediently showed it’s poisonous teeth. I released them from the stasis I had put them in so I could see them squirming while I kept on staring.
When I finally spoke, they flinched, just as I’d hoped. “I do not tolerate bullies in my HoK. In fact, I reserve the right to punish anyone misbehaving in my HoK severely. You two are about to find out just what severely means.”
The taller one puffed up his chest in false bravado and actually dared to sneer at me. “Pah. Put us in detention, see if I care. You can’t hurt us, it’s against university rules.”
I smiled a toothy grin in return. “Pain, dear boy, is the method of the weak-minded. I don’t need to hurt you physically to teach you a lesson.”
Before he could get himself into even more trouble with his attitude, I turned around to bring them to the HoK’s “detention” room.
And saw Cromvik standing at the other end of the aisle. My smile immediately turned genuine. “Hi. Would you like to see me punishing these two idiots?”
He grinned. “No thanks, I might get nightmares. I just wanted to say bye before I went back to my office.”
Wasn’t that sweet? I have to say I’m liking Cromvik more and more.
We chatted for another bit before he left and I took the bullies to a room that I had specially designed for punishing bullies. It is a square room filled from top to bottom with cardboard boxes. One of these boxes holds the key to the room. Every other box contains a spell. The two guys would be spending the afternoon fighting all kinds of ingenious little spells, for example wedgie-spells, itch-spells, hiccup-spells … you know, all the things they think they are experts in administering.
Ah yeah, an eye for an eye – that’s my kind of punishment.
What do you think: is that the right punishment? Or do you have a better idea? I’m always happy to learn about new punishing methods :-)
August 30, 2011
The First Date
Friday night was the big night and this time there was no abduction by a secret agency to stop me from going out with Cromvik. He picked me up very punctually and took me to Torjino’s – very good, very upscale. Nice. We sat down and ordered our food interspersed with friendly small talk. So far so good, but then Cromvik said, “There’s something I’ve been wondering about for a while now. How did you come so close to becoming Ishta? – You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, though.”
I shook my head. “It isn’t something, I usually tell anyone. It’s not a nice story but I trust you enough now that I’m sure you won’t go around telling everyone.”
“I won’t, I promise,” he jumped in.
I smiled. He looked at me with such hope in his eyes, that it was crystal clear to me that this was important to him. I guess he knew that if I told him such a personal thing, we would go way beyond professional friendship. “Well then. I was in my first semester at the university. Twenty years young and incredibly naïve, to be honest. My Magic Wielding 101 professor was Kaljarik.”
“That famous profassur Kaljarik who won the Nobari-prize?”
I nodded. “That’s the one. I was very impressed that my profassur was such a famous man. What I didn’t know then was that he hadn’t made any more interesting discoveries since winning that prize a few years before. I was just totally thrilled when he chose me to be his personal assistant. He said I had great potential and that he wanted to tutor me to achieve the most that I could.”
“I definitely would have jumped at the opportunity to work with a Nobari-prize-winner,” Cromvik agreed.
“Oh it was a great offer and he taught me many things. That’s the reason why I didn’t notice what he was doing, until it was too late. He brought me memory stone after memory stone to unlock, whilst explaining what I could do with all the additional power and wisdom. He carefully chose the stones from a variety of fields, but always one’s that would increase my magical power. The more I felt my power increase, the more I craved it. Little by little I got addicted to it. By the time the first tiny silver shadow appeared in my eyes, I was already too far gone. I didn’t care what that silver shadow implied. I bought colored contact lenses from the human dimension to hide the silver and kept on going.”
I broke off while the waitress served our main course. Actually I was glad for the interruption, I needed a moment to gather myself before I told the next part of the story.
Once the waitress was gone, Cromvik shook his head, “I don’t understand. If no one else then at least profassur Kaljarik should have noticed what was happening. Don’t tell me he was deliberately pushing you into addiction.”
I gave him a wry smile. “That’s exactly what he was doing. I didn’t find out until after everything was over that he was using me. See, the university was cutting him off because his research hadn’t produced any new outcome in two years. He must have been mentally unstable before that already, but apparently that pushed him into complete madness. That’s the only explanation I can give for his plan of revenge. It was pure madness and he would even have succeeded if it hadn’t been for Iljana.”
“Iljana was my room mate. She noticed that I was behaving strangely and eventually found out, what was happening. So, she followed me when I received a summons from Kaljarik late one night. He called me to the Charilan-grove right in the center of Knobblyville. His plan was to blow up the whole city by setting free all the magical power that I had accumulated. He had put the trigger into a memory stone that he gave me to unlock. At that point I would have done anything he asked of me and I would have opened the stone, too, if Iljana hadn’t arrived just then. She screamed at me to drop the stone and while I didn’t comply because it was so powerful that it called to my Ishta self, I did hesitate long enough for her to reach me. I didn’t understand why she was yelling at me. I just wanted to open that pretty stone that contained so much wonderful power.”
I drew in a long breath to steady myself. This was the first time I talked about this to anyone other than my parents. It was hard. “Kaljarik had put some distance between me and him to have a chance at surviving the power explosion, but he hadn’t moved out of sight. When he saw Iljana approach me, he acted quickly and brutally. He send an energy wave that hit her in the back. She had no chance of survival. She was dead before she hit the ground in front of me. It took me long moments to process what had happened. When I finally registered that my best friend had just died because she had tried to help me, I broke down. The Ishta urges were pushed to the back of my mind by the numbing shock of witnessing Iljana’s death. I threw away the stone and knelt beside her, hoping to find a sign that she might still live. Of course, there was none.”
“Kaljarik came towards me, yelling at me to take up the stone and open it. He promised me enormous power and some other things I didn’t even register. I looked up and finally saw him as the madman he had become. He was gathering energy, I could feel it. He probably wanted to force me to open the stone or maybe open it himself. I don’t know. I reacted without conscious thought. I lifted my hand and fried him with an energy bolt. I knew I had killed him, but I didn’t care. All I felt was shock at my best friends death and disgust at what I had become.”
“I was in therapy for two years until I had learned to suppress my Ishta urges enough to function without immediate danger of relapsing. The dacturs didn’t have much hopes that I would come back from the brink sane, but the memory of Iljana dying because of me kept me working until I beat the Ishta urges.”
“Dear Gods,” Cromvik uttered. “How can it be that I never heard of this if it happened right here in Knobblyville?”
I shrugged awkwardly, “The university didn’t want the bad publicity. They were very successful at covering the whole thing up. Only few people know what happened that night.”
It took a while until Cromvik got over my story and he had a few more questions about it and my time in rehab, which I answered openly. But soon enough we mutually decided to switch to lighter topics.
Overall, it was a good date. We talked, even laughed later on and I arrived back home with the feeling that we had gotten a lot closer in the course of that one evening.
I shook my head. “It isn’t something, I usually tell anyone. It’s not a nice story but I trust you enough now that I’m sure you won’t go around telling everyone.”
“I won’t, I promise,” he jumped in.
I smiled. He looked at me with such hope in his eyes, that it was crystal clear to me that this was important to him. I guess he knew that if I told him such a personal thing, we would go way beyond professional friendship. “Well then. I was in my first semester at the university. Twenty years young and incredibly naïve, to be honest. My Magic Wielding 101 professor was Kaljarik.”
“That famous profassur Kaljarik who won the Nobari-prize?”
I nodded. “That’s the one. I was very impressed that my profassur was such a famous man. What I didn’t know then was that he hadn’t made any more interesting discoveries since winning that prize a few years before. I was just totally thrilled when he chose me to be his personal assistant. He said I had great potential and that he wanted to tutor me to achieve the most that I could.”
“I definitely would have jumped at the opportunity to work with a Nobari-prize-winner,” Cromvik agreed.
“Oh it was a great offer and he taught me many things. That’s the reason why I didn’t notice what he was doing, until it was too late. He brought me memory stone after memory stone to unlock, whilst explaining what I could do with all the additional power and wisdom. He carefully chose the stones from a variety of fields, but always one’s that would increase my magical power. The more I felt my power increase, the more I craved it. Little by little I got addicted to it. By the time the first tiny silver shadow appeared in my eyes, I was already too far gone. I didn’t care what that silver shadow implied. I bought colored contact lenses from the human dimension to hide the silver and kept on going.”
I broke off while the waitress served our main course. Actually I was glad for the interruption, I needed a moment to gather myself before I told the next part of the story.
Once the waitress was gone, Cromvik shook his head, “I don’t understand. If no one else then at least profassur Kaljarik should have noticed what was happening. Don’t tell me he was deliberately pushing you into addiction.”
I gave him a wry smile. “That’s exactly what he was doing. I didn’t find out until after everything was over that he was using me. See, the university was cutting him off because his research hadn’t produced any new outcome in two years. He must have been mentally unstable before that already, but apparently that pushed him into complete madness. That’s the only explanation I can give for his plan of revenge. It was pure madness and he would even have succeeded if it hadn’t been for Iljana.”
“Iljana was my room mate. She noticed that I was behaving strangely and eventually found out, what was happening. So, she followed me when I received a summons from Kaljarik late one night. He called me to the Charilan-grove right in the center of Knobblyville. His plan was to blow up the whole city by setting free all the magical power that I had accumulated. He had put the trigger into a memory stone that he gave me to unlock. At that point I would have done anything he asked of me and I would have opened the stone, too, if Iljana hadn’t arrived just then. She screamed at me to drop the stone and while I didn’t comply because it was so powerful that it called to my Ishta self, I did hesitate long enough for her to reach me. I didn’t understand why she was yelling at me. I just wanted to open that pretty stone that contained so much wonderful power.”
I drew in a long breath to steady myself. This was the first time I talked about this to anyone other than my parents. It was hard. “Kaljarik had put some distance between me and him to have a chance at surviving the power explosion, but he hadn’t moved out of sight. When he saw Iljana approach me, he acted quickly and brutally. He send an energy wave that hit her in the back. She had no chance of survival. She was dead before she hit the ground in front of me. It took me long moments to process what had happened. When I finally registered that my best friend had just died because she had tried to help me, I broke down. The Ishta urges were pushed to the back of my mind by the numbing shock of witnessing Iljana’s death. I threw away the stone and knelt beside her, hoping to find a sign that she might still live. Of course, there was none.”
“Kaljarik came towards me, yelling at me to take up the stone and open it. He promised me enormous power and some other things I didn’t even register. I looked up and finally saw him as the madman he had become. He was gathering energy, I could feel it. He probably wanted to force me to open the stone or maybe open it himself. I don’t know. I reacted without conscious thought. I lifted my hand and fried him with an energy bolt. I knew I had killed him, but I didn’t care. All I felt was shock at my best friends death and disgust at what I had become.”
“I was in therapy for two years until I had learned to suppress my Ishta urges enough to function without immediate danger of relapsing. The dacturs didn’t have much hopes that I would come back from the brink sane, but the memory of Iljana dying because of me kept me working until I beat the Ishta urges.”
“Dear Gods,” Cromvik uttered. “How can it be that I never heard of this if it happened right here in Knobblyville?”
I shrugged awkwardly, “The university didn’t want the bad publicity. They were very successful at covering the whole thing up. Only few people know what happened that night.”
It took a while until Cromvik got over my story and he had a few more questions about it and my time in rehab, which I answered openly. But soon enough we mutually decided to switch to lighter topics.
Overall, it was a good date. We talked, even laughed later on and I arrived back home with the feeling that we had gotten a lot closer in the course of that one evening.
August 22, 2011
Lying yet telling the truth
As you know I came back from my ultra secret side-job one and a half weeks ago and had planned to visit Cromvik in his office the very next day. Little did I know that he had left for a conference. He didn’t arrive back until late last night and I didn’t want to have this conversation over long distance. So, I waited until today and went to his office first thing this morning.
I took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves before I knocked on his office door. I wasn’t at all sure what kind of welcome I would get. After all, I left without a word and the only explanation that had been given by the superiors, was that I’d had Ishta urges that forced me to go into seclusion. While that was a good, believable excuse in general, I wasn’t at all sure that it convinced Cromvik.
He called me in and I entered with my back straight and calm confidence all over my face. If there’s one thing I am good at then it’s not showing my feelings. Unfortunately, so is he. I couldn’t tell at all what he was thinking from his calm composure and his noncommittal greeting.
He invited me to sit and I did before I started, “I heard this is your first day back after your trip, so I thought I’d come by and apologize for ditching you the other night. I’m sorry you had to hear from someone else what happened, but you know how it is with Ishta urges. They can come so suddenly. And while fighting them, contact to the outside worlds just isn’t wise.”
For an endless moment he just stared into my eyes. It took all my self-control not to squirm under his perusal. Finally he spoke, “You know, when they told me that you had to leave because of Ishta urges, I wondered whether it was just a lie and you had gone off on another alibi trip to cover up some devious plan. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time.” I cringed inside at his hint at the whole new dean thing. Couldn’t he just let that one go?
He leaned forward over his desk and I resisted the urge to move backwards. “Now that I see you...” he continued. “I think it is actually the truth this time. There is a new silver shadow in your right eye.”
“You noticed?” I was surprised and quite flattered that he would notice such a little detail about my appearance. At the same time my conscience winced. He was right, there was a new silver fleck in my right eye since the accident in the secret lab. How ironic that this accident was now providing me with the “proof” for my cover story.
He pulled up one shoulder in a casual shrug. “Yes well... it’s not that hard to see. Anyway, are you free on Friday? If you’re still interested in a date, that is.”
“I am free and interested,” I answered and I meant it.
I have to say I am very glad that my whole disappearing act didn’t wreak my chances with Cromvik. I really am looking forward to Friday night.
I took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves before I knocked on his office door. I wasn’t at all sure what kind of welcome I would get. After all, I left without a word and the only explanation that had been given by the superiors, was that I’d had Ishta urges that forced me to go into seclusion. While that was a good, believable excuse in general, I wasn’t at all sure that it convinced Cromvik.
He called me in and I entered with my back straight and calm confidence all over my face. If there’s one thing I am good at then it’s not showing my feelings. Unfortunately, so is he. I couldn’t tell at all what he was thinking from his calm composure and his noncommittal greeting.
He invited me to sit and I did before I started, “I heard this is your first day back after your trip, so I thought I’d come by and apologize for ditching you the other night. I’m sorry you had to hear from someone else what happened, but you know how it is with Ishta urges. They can come so suddenly. And while fighting them, contact to the outside worlds just isn’t wise.”
For an endless moment he just stared into my eyes. It took all my self-control not to squirm under his perusal. Finally he spoke, “You know, when they told me that you had to leave because of Ishta urges, I wondered whether it was just a lie and you had gone off on another alibi trip to cover up some devious plan. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time.” I cringed inside at his hint at the whole new dean thing. Couldn’t he just let that one go?
He leaned forward over his desk and I resisted the urge to move backwards. “Now that I see you...” he continued. “I think it is actually the truth this time. There is a new silver shadow in your right eye.”
“You noticed?” I was surprised and quite flattered that he would notice such a little detail about my appearance. At the same time my conscience winced. He was right, there was a new silver fleck in my right eye since the accident in the secret lab. How ironic that this accident was now providing me with the “proof” for my cover story.
He pulled up one shoulder in a casual shrug. “Yes well... it’s not that hard to see. Anyway, are you free on Friday? If you’re still interested in a date, that is.”
“I am free and interested,” I answered and I meant it.
I have to say I am very glad that my whole disappearing act didn’t wreak my chances with Cromvik. I really am looking forward to Friday night.
August 10, 2011
back home
Today I arrived back home after strenuous weeks of creating memory stones. As I expected, the youngster they gave me to teach turned out to be a real pain in the butt. There’s nothing worse than trying to teach someone who believes himself infallible and already prepared for all eventualities. The guy actually thought that knowing something in theory was the same as doing it. Well, it is a far cry from theoretically knowing how to create a memory stone, to actually creating one. There are a great many subtleties that one only learns with experience.
Unfortunately Eetan had only rudimentary experience in creating stones and none at all with the higher levels. That’s why they had given him into my care, to teach him to create the ultra complicated level 5 stones. Unfortunately, though, he didn’t take well to constructive criticism, thinking himself pretty much perfect. More than once I had the strong urge to shake the guy until he saw reason or just plain kill him with the nearest heavy object. I held myself back time and again, trying to tell myself that the superiors must have seen something in this obnoxious twerp that was special enough to qualify him for the strenuous job they gave him.
This went on until last Wednesday when it all went south. All morning I had explained time and again that the techniques he had learned from his rulebooks were all nice and well but not applicable to the kind of stone we were working on. Eetan as always didn’t believe me. Oh, he would do as I said but complained all the time. I was fast reaching my limits of restraint.
Shortly before lunch time I reached a spot where I had to step out of the workroom or kill the insolent pup. I opted for the first option and went outside to get some air. In hindsight I know it had been stupid to leave him alone even if it was only for the few minutes I was gone.
When I came back into the room I immediately felt the wrongness in the air. While the door fell closed behind me I took in the situation presented to me. Eetan was crouching on the floor, his whole body stiff with tension. He didn’t react to my entrance, eyes fixed on the memory stone he held cradled in his trembling fingers. The stone was seconds away from exploding and Eetan was clearly unable to stabilize it.
I did the only thing I could do. I ripped the stone out of his hands and threw it into a corner while shoving Eetan to the floor and erecting a protective bubble around us. The explosion energy whipped through the room and over my shield with such excruciating force, that it ripped wholes into my shield. Pure magical power forced itself right into me, filling me up, trying to rip me apart. I blacked out for a moment and when I came to again it was over. Eetan lay still beneath me, trembling all over and staring in terror into my eyes. That’s when I realized they must have turned completely silver. As if on cue Ishta urges rampaged through me body, screaming of magic and power and hunger. Hunger for more. To take anything, everything. A lovely source conveniently trapped beneath me.
With a pained scream I jumped away from Eetan and backed into a corner. “Get out, you fool,” I spat at Eetan who was still lying where I’d left him.
At my scream he flinched, then drew himself up and hastened out of the room. I sat down right where I was and started meditating, fighting against the Ishta urges with all I had.
Hours later I had re-established a semblance of control over myself, though I still felt stretched thin. My body was trembling from exhaustion and my head felt as if it was filled with cotton wool. Everything was a blur and my hearing didn’t seem to work right.
I stumbled out of the work room and straight to my quarters. Everyone was intelligent enough to keep out of my way. I slumped into bed and slept till Thursday afternoon.
It was a knock on my door that woke me. Still half asleep, I got myself into an upright position and croaked, “Come in.”
In came Eetan carrying a tray loaded with food. My stomach rumbled at the sight, a sure sign that I was getting better. With a quiet “good morning” he placed the food on a table and turned back to me. Gone was the overconfident rooky I had seen so much of, replaced by a youngster who couldn’t meet my gaze and shuffled his feet. “The boss said that you’d be hungry by now. So, I thought I’d bring you something to eat.” A huge breath. “And I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have tried to create that stone without supervision.” Finally he raised his head and I could see the pain and sincerity in his eyes. “I was a fool. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have died.”
I sighed. “I forgive you. When I was your age I did a few foolish things too. The silver flecks in my eyes can attest to that.”
Eetan gave me a wobbly smile. “Thanks. I promise from now on I will listen better.”
And to my not little astonishment, he did. Nothing like a near death experience to open one’s eyes, I guess. The last few days went a lot better and I actually grew to like the boy.
Anyway, now that I am back home, real life hit me right in the gut. I found out what the agency had given as an explanation for my being gone and tomorrow I will have to go and talk to Chromvik. He is bound to be a bit miffed because I stood him up and then just left without so much as a bye-bye.
Unfortunately Eetan had only rudimentary experience in creating stones and none at all with the higher levels. That’s why they had given him into my care, to teach him to create the ultra complicated level 5 stones. Unfortunately, though, he didn’t take well to constructive criticism, thinking himself pretty much perfect. More than once I had the strong urge to shake the guy until he saw reason or just plain kill him with the nearest heavy object. I held myself back time and again, trying to tell myself that the superiors must have seen something in this obnoxious twerp that was special enough to qualify him for the strenuous job they gave him.
This went on until last Wednesday when it all went south. All morning I had explained time and again that the techniques he had learned from his rulebooks were all nice and well but not applicable to the kind of stone we were working on. Eetan as always didn’t believe me. Oh, he would do as I said but complained all the time. I was fast reaching my limits of restraint.
Shortly before lunch time I reached a spot where I had to step out of the workroom or kill the insolent pup. I opted for the first option and went outside to get some air. In hindsight I know it had been stupid to leave him alone even if it was only for the few minutes I was gone.
When I came back into the room I immediately felt the wrongness in the air. While the door fell closed behind me I took in the situation presented to me. Eetan was crouching on the floor, his whole body stiff with tension. He didn’t react to my entrance, eyes fixed on the memory stone he held cradled in his trembling fingers. The stone was seconds away from exploding and Eetan was clearly unable to stabilize it.
I did the only thing I could do. I ripped the stone out of his hands and threw it into a corner while shoving Eetan to the floor and erecting a protective bubble around us. The explosion energy whipped through the room and over my shield with such excruciating force, that it ripped wholes into my shield. Pure magical power forced itself right into me, filling me up, trying to rip me apart. I blacked out for a moment and when I came to again it was over. Eetan lay still beneath me, trembling all over and staring in terror into my eyes. That’s when I realized they must have turned completely silver. As if on cue Ishta urges rampaged through me body, screaming of magic and power and hunger. Hunger for more. To take anything, everything. A lovely source conveniently trapped beneath me.
With a pained scream I jumped away from Eetan and backed into a corner. “Get out, you fool,” I spat at Eetan who was still lying where I’d left him.
At my scream he flinched, then drew himself up and hastened out of the room. I sat down right where I was and started meditating, fighting against the Ishta urges with all I had.
Hours later I had re-established a semblance of control over myself, though I still felt stretched thin. My body was trembling from exhaustion and my head felt as if it was filled with cotton wool. Everything was a blur and my hearing didn’t seem to work right.
I stumbled out of the work room and straight to my quarters. Everyone was intelligent enough to keep out of my way. I slumped into bed and slept till Thursday afternoon.
It was a knock on my door that woke me. Still half asleep, I got myself into an upright position and croaked, “Come in.”
In came Eetan carrying a tray loaded with food. My stomach rumbled at the sight, a sure sign that I was getting better. With a quiet “good morning” he placed the food on a table and turned back to me. Gone was the overconfident rooky I had seen so much of, replaced by a youngster who couldn’t meet my gaze and shuffled his feet. “The boss said that you’d be hungry by now. So, I thought I’d bring you something to eat.” A huge breath. “And I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have tried to create that stone without supervision.” Finally he raised his head and I could see the pain and sincerity in his eyes. “I was a fool. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have died.”
I sighed. “I forgive you. When I was your age I did a few foolish things too. The silver flecks in my eyes can attest to that.”
Eetan gave me a wobbly smile. “Thanks. I promise from now on I will listen better.”
And to my not little astonishment, he did. Nothing like a near death experience to open one’s eyes, I guess. The last few days went a lot better and I actually grew to like the boy.
Anyway, now that I am back home, real life hit me right in the gut. I found out what the agency had given as an explanation for my being gone and tomorrow I will have to go and talk to Chromvik. He is bound to be a bit miffed because I stood him up and then just left without so much as a bye-bye.
July 18, 2011
newbie alarm
My weeklong vacation is over and its back to creating memory stones. I got to the lab bright and early this morning (okay okay, it was more grumpy and slightly too late – but honestly getting up is and always will be the hardest task in any day). Anyway, first thing I see when I get there is the boss and a young man. The youngster was actually wearing a suit, with tie and loafers and everything! That made one word appear in my head immediately – suck-up. And it hasn’t gone away since then.
Dear young Eetan is a recent graduate with the highest of clearances who has managed – through ruthless ass-kissing, no doubt – to land himself the job of secret creator of memory stones. Guess, who is responsible for teaching him everything he didn’t learn at orientation. Yeah, it’s me. Sigh. I’m no good with sticklers and I’m no good at teaching people who think of themselves as infallible. Eetan is both, that much I know already.
Oh, we’re going to have a lot of fun together. I just know it.
Dear young Eetan is a recent graduate with the highest of clearances who has managed – through ruthless ass-kissing, no doubt – to land himself the job of secret creator of memory stones. Guess, who is responsible for teaching him everything he didn’t learn at orientation. Yeah, it’s me. Sigh. I’m no good with sticklers and I’m no good at teaching people who think of themselves as infallible. Eetan is both, that much I know already.
Oh, we’re going to have a lot of fun together. I just know it.
July 8, 2011
Just a little update
I have been renewing memory stones for the last two weeks and it has taken its toll. I am exhausted, but yesterday I finished with the last stone that needed renewing. Now its time to recuperate. Unfortunately I can’t do that at home because they want to make sure that I don’t turn fully Ishta. So, I have to stay here – in the middle of bloody nowhere – doing nothing for a full week, while being watched every second of the day. Yay. This is going to be so very boring. Well, at least government treats its secret helpers well. My room is huge and includes a private whirl pool, which I just love. There’s also a spa and a fitness center - not that I have entered the later yet, but I do enjoy the massages.
I do think I’m going to enjoy this week long vacation. I might even finally find the time to read some of the novels I have on my to-read pile. I shall strive to just ignore the concerned official lurking around me. Let him ensure that I’m still not an Ishta five-hundred-thousand times a day. I don’t care.
I do think I’m going to enjoy this week long vacation. I might even finally find the time to read some of the novels I have on my to-read pile. I shall strive to just ignore the concerned official lurking around me. Let him ensure that I’m still not an Ishta five-hundred-thousand times a day. I don’t care.
July 1, 2011
Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans
You’re probably wondering why I haven’t posted yet what happened at my date with Cromvik. Well, very easy reason: there was no date. Sometimes life has sucky timing. I was at home on Saturday afternoon, primping for my date when I was called to an emergency. Now don’t worry, it wasn’t a family emergency or anything. It was to do with my top secret side job. See, years back I was recruited for a very special task force to do with memory stones. As you can imagine there are some abilities, but mainly a lot of knowledge that needs to be stored in a way that is nigh impenetrable by criminals or other shady characters. Long story short: what most imps don’t know, there are not four but five levels of stones. So, if you ever see a black memory stone, you know that you are held in high regard by your superiors – or in deep shit.
Anyway, I was called to one of the secret locations where they keep these stones, because some of them have become unstable. Stabilizing these stones is incredibly difficult, mainly because of all the safety measures built into them. It took me two days just to fix one unstable stone.
Monday, then, I spent mostly in meditation, because using this much power calls forth my Ishta urges and only strict self control keeps them in line.
Unfortunately there are quite a few unstable stones that need to be dealt with and also a few new one to be created, so I don’t actually know when I will get back to Knobblyville and Cromvik. I also don’t know what excuse was given to my co-workers in the HoK as to why I’m suddenly gone for several weeks.
I’m afraid this will not make my relationship to Cromvik any easier, after all he doesn’t have the kind of clearance that would allow me to actually explain to him, why I stood him up.
Well, time will tell, I guess.
Anyway, I was called to one of the secret locations where they keep these stones, because some of them have become unstable. Stabilizing these stones is incredibly difficult, mainly because of all the safety measures built into them. It took me two days just to fix one unstable stone.
Monday, then, I spent mostly in meditation, because using this much power calls forth my Ishta urges and only strict self control keeps them in line.
Unfortunately there are quite a few unstable stones that need to be dealt with and also a few new one to be created, so I don’t actually know when I will get back to Knobblyville and Cromvik. I also don’t know what excuse was given to my co-workers in the HoK as to why I’m suddenly gone for several weeks.
I’m afraid this will not make my relationship to Cromvik any easier, after all he doesn’t have the kind of clearance that would allow me to actually explain to him, why I stood him up.
Well, time will tell, I guess.
June 24, 2011
The meeting
So, today was the dreaded meeting with Cromvik. As soon as he entered my office the room shrank to a third of its size. Even though Cromvik isn’t much taller than me or even broad in the shoulders, he took up more than his fair share of the room.
“Good morning,” I greeted him with calm professionalism. “Please have a seat.”
He returned the greeting and sat down on the other side of my desk. “Alright,” I started once he was settled. “I will explain what I would like you to do within this project. Cut in if you have any questions.” He nodded and I went on, “ I made lists of all the memory stones that need to be renewed. Your responsibility is the engineering list – both manual and magical, of course. Renew as many of the stones as you can yourself and find the right people to do the rest of them. By right people I mean preferably other profassurs who are used to making memory stones. If you can’t find anyone suitable make a note of it and lay the stone aside for later reflection. Any questions so far?”
Cromvik leaned back in his chair. “Just one. If you don’t trust me, why then did you request me for this project?”
Ah, there it was. Cromvik obviously had decided, too, that it was time for a serious talk between us. Clearly he was referring to my not telling him whether I was behind the whole new dean thing. Well, I owed him an explanation so I bit back my automatic denial and took a deep breath. “It’s not like I don’t trust you to do your job right. I have every confidence that you will do great with organizing your part of this project. But it’s a whole other thing to trust you with personal information, especially potentially dangerous information. I’m not good at trusting anyone with something like that.”
Cromvik nodded. “Trust needs to be earned, I understand that. I would like to earn yours.”
I licked my suddenly dry lips. “I see, and how would you like to do that?”
He smiled that ridiculously charming smile that always increases my heart rate. “Go out with me.”
“Are you asking me on a date?” I verified a bit surprised. When I had decided to get to know him better I had thought of talking to him more at work, but starting something private with him? Did I want that? If I was honest … yes.
“How about Torjino’s tomorrow evening?” he countered.
I smiled. “Good choice. Let’s say seven o’clock?”
“I’ll pick you up.”
And that was that. After that we went back to shop talk, though I couldn’t quite concentrate on it.
I am going on a date with Cromvik! How huge is that?
“Good morning,” I greeted him with calm professionalism. “Please have a seat.”
He returned the greeting and sat down on the other side of my desk. “Alright,” I started once he was settled. “I will explain what I would like you to do within this project. Cut in if you have any questions.” He nodded and I went on, “ I made lists of all the memory stones that need to be renewed. Your responsibility is the engineering list – both manual and magical, of course. Renew as many of the stones as you can yourself and find the right people to do the rest of them. By right people I mean preferably other profassurs who are used to making memory stones. If you can’t find anyone suitable make a note of it and lay the stone aside for later reflection. Any questions so far?”
Cromvik leaned back in his chair. “Just one. If you don’t trust me, why then did you request me for this project?”
Ah, there it was. Cromvik obviously had decided, too, that it was time for a serious talk between us. Clearly he was referring to my not telling him whether I was behind the whole new dean thing. Well, I owed him an explanation so I bit back my automatic denial and took a deep breath. “It’s not like I don’t trust you to do your job right. I have every confidence that you will do great with organizing your part of this project. But it’s a whole other thing to trust you with personal information, especially potentially dangerous information. I’m not good at trusting anyone with something like that.”
Cromvik nodded. “Trust needs to be earned, I understand that. I would like to earn yours.”
I licked my suddenly dry lips. “I see, and how would you like to do that?”
He smiled that ridiculously charming smile that always increases my heart rate. “Go out with me.”
“Are you asking me on a date?” I verified a bit surprised. When I had decided to get to know him better I had thought of talking to him more at work, but starting something private with him? Did I want that? If I was honest … yes.
“How about Torjino’s tomorrow evening?” he countered.
I smiled. “Good choice. Let’s say seven o’clock?”
“I’ll pick you up.”
And that was that. After that we went back to shop talk, though I couldn’t quite concentrate on it.
I am going on a date with Cromvik! How huge is that?
May 30, 2011
a new project
Last Friday I introduced a new project to a few key people. It is time that we restore a few of the older memory stones, because if memory stones lie around for too long they get brittle and might explode spontaneously. A little nudge or increased temperatures may do the trick. So the old stones have to be deconstructed and then built anew. This is, of course, best done by the imp who made the original stone or at least someone who has opened the stone before. Don’t want to create any Ishta during this project.
To coordinate this I need a few people from different departments within the university to help me. In case of imps like Mikha, this can only be called a necessary evil. In case of the dean its alright, and when it comes to Cromvik, it’s just plain awkward.
Yes, he was at the meeting. I know I haven’t written about him for a while – that’s because I haven’t seen him for months. Not that I cared that much, I just don’t know what to make of him. It makes me uncomfortable that he is so certain that I was behind the new dean thing (don’t know what I’m talking about? Looky here and here). I plain don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t know whether I can trust him with that knowledge.
So, when he stayed behind after the meeting, the acutely uncomfortable conversation between us went something like this:
“Hi,” he said with a friendly smile.
“Hi,” I repeated dumbly.
Awkward silence.
“So, I was on sabital in Arachal for the last few months,” he continued.
“Oh,” was my intelligent reply to that.
“Yeah. Just in case you were wondering why you haven’t seen me for so long,” he added, shuffling his feet.
More silence.
“So … I’ll see you when you come to your individual project meeting?” Stupid question, considering he was obliged to come to that meeting. But at least better than silence, right?
He hesitated. “Yeah, I’ll … see you then … I guess.”
“Bye, then,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
“Bye,” he responded and finally left.
After this “talk” I really don’t know how the meeting between just the two of us will go. Guess I need to find out whether I can trust Chromvik. This uncertainty is driving me crazy.
To coordinate this I need a few people from different departments within the university to help me. In case of imps like Mikha, this can only be called a necessary evil. In case of the dean its alright, and when it comes to Cromvik, it’s just plain awkward.
Yes, he was at the meeting. I know I haven’t written about him for a while – that’s because I haven’t seen him for months. Not that I cared that much, I just don’t know what to make of him. It makes me uncomfortable that he is so certain that I was behind the new dean thing (don’t know what I’m talking about? Looky here and here). I plain don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t know whether I can trust him with that knowledge.
So, when he stayed behind after the meeting, the acutely uncomfortable conversation between us went something like this:
“Hi,” he said with a friendly smile.
“Hi,” I repeated dumbly.
Awkward silence.
“So, I was on sabital in Arachal for the last few months,” he continued.
“Oh,” was my intelligent reply to that.
“Yeah. Just in case you were wondering why you haven’t seen me for so long,” he added, shuffling his feet.
More silence.
“So … I’ll see you when you come to your individual project meeting?” Stupid question, considering he was obliged to come to that meeting. But at least better than silence, right?
He hesitated. “Yeah, I’ll … see you then … I guess.”
“Bye, then,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
“Bye,” he responded and finally left.
After this “talk” I really don’t know how the meeting between just the two of us will go. Guess I need to find out whether I can trust Chromvik. This uncertainty is driving me crazy.
May 20, 2011
Guarding reference works
I’m sure Keepers of Knowledge (KoK) of all worlds know the problem: reference works are supposed to stay inside the HoK (House of Knowledge), yet somehow students seem to conveniently forget this all the time.
This phenomenon used to annoy the heck out of me, but nowadays it provides a great source of entertainment. See, my HoK – as you may already have gathered – isn’t quite like other’s. Trying to sneak out reference works is a serious offence and goes neither unnoticed nor unpunished.
Let’s have an example. A student, let’s call him Dopey, comes in and finds just the reference book he needs. But, oh my, it’s large and full of knowledge one can’t possibly go through in the little time Dopey has before he needs to get home to mama and he really doesn’t want to come all the way back to the HoK another time. What to do? Dopey has an idea – it’s not quite a bright one (more like a candle in a dark room with the wind blowing) but to him it seems stellar. He puts the reference book in his bag and casually walks to the exit. Surely no one will notice what he’s doing. What he doesn’t know is the KoK of this particular HoK is a very knowledgeable mage and has a mean streak. The mighty Venimalia has protected her doors with a spell that picks up on reference works. So, when Dopey steps up to the doors, an enormous monster with sharp teeth, a grotesquely scaled body and sulphuric breath appears right in front of him and with scathing tone and booming voice, speaks, “Your dare to defy the rules? That makes you mine to devour!” The apparition comes complete with scorching body heat and flying spittle, which makes the experience that much more intimidating for little Dopey, who by now is shivering and very nearly peeing his pants. Enter Venimalia. While Dopey is still in shock the grand KoK opens his bag and finds the evidence. In front of everyone she tells Dopey off and imposes a draconic punishment on the little offender. This ensures that Dopey will never ever try something like this again and also serves as a neat exemplar for all other patrons.
I have found this to be an incredibly effective way of teaching people not to break my rules. And I don’t even have to hurt anyone in the process ;-)
This phenomenon used to annoy the heck out of me, but nowadays it provides a great source of entertainment. See, my HoK – as you may already have gathered – isn’t quite like other’s. Trying to sneak out reference works is a serious offence and goes neither unnoticed nor unpunished.
Let’s have an example. A student, let’s call him Dopey, comes in and finds just the reference book he needs. But, oh my, it’s large and full of knowledge one can’t possibly go through in the little time Dopey has before he needs to get home to mama and he really doesn’t want to come all the way back to the HoK another time. What to do? Dopey has an idea – it’s not quite a bright one (more like a candle in a dark room with the wind blowing) but to him it seems stellar. He puts the reference book in his bag and casually walks to the exit. Surely no one will notice what he’s doing. What he doesn’t know is the KoK of this particular HoK is a very knowledgeable mage and has a mean streak. The mighty Venimalia has protected her doors with a spell that picks up on reference works. So, when Dopey steps up to the doors, an enormous monster with sharp teeth, a grotesquely scaled body and sulphuric breath appears right in front of him and with scathing tone and booming voice, speaks, “Your dare to defy the rules? That makes you mine to devour!” The apparition comes complete with scorching body heat and flying spittle, which makes the experience that much more intimidating for little Dopey, who by now is shivering and very nearly peeing his pants. Enter Venimalia. While Dopey is still in shock the grand KoK opens his bag and finds the evidence. In front of everyone she tells Dopey off and imposes a draconic punishment on the little offender. This ensures that Dopey will never ever try something like this again and also serves as a neat exemplar for all other patrons.
I have found this to be an incredibly effective way of teaching people not to break my rules. And I don’t even have to hurt anyone in the process ;-)
April 20, 2011
Mothers are strange creatures
See, my mom told me that she doesn’t trust my grandmother to water her plants while she is on vacation. After all granny is getting old. This was big news to me. I finally am responsible in my mother’s eyes, even more responsible than my grandmother! I actually felt quite good about that. Well, up until my mother told twice more ON THAT SAME DAY not to forget about watering the plants, and to be extra careful with her orchids – wouldn’t want them to drown, now would we – and that the watering cans are outside on the patio.
Alright, so apparently I’m not all that responsible after all and forgetful it seems. Never mind that I am in charge of a whole HoK, which among other things does require a good memory. But the worst thing about this whole issue is that when I went home to water those darn plants, my grandmother came over and told me that my mother had advised her to tell me that I should not forget to water the plants and that the watering cans are out on the patio. Honestly, I was this close *pressing thumb and forefinger together here* to yelling at my grandmother. But, of course, it wasn’t her fault that my mother is obviously very concerned about her plants and in serious doubt of the functioning of her child’s brain.
Sigh. That's life, I guess.
Alright, so apparently I’m not all that responsible after all and forgetful it seems. Never mind that I am in charge of a whole HoK, which among other things does require a good memory. But the worst thing about this whole issue is that when I went home to water those darn plants, my grandmother came over and told me that my mother had advised her to tell me that I should not forget to water the plants and that the watering cans are out on the patio. Honestly, I was this close *pressing thumb and forefinger together here* to yelling at my grandmother. But, of course, it wasn’t her fault that my mother is obviously very concerned about her plants and in serious doubt of the functioning of her child’s brain.
Sigh. That's life, I guess.
April 1, 2011
whine time
Project meetings are a pain in the backside, if you ask me. Designed by manager personalities who need to fill their day with something that sounds worthwhile while at the same time doesn’t require any real knowledge on their side. Unfortunately, this is always just one of the interesting personalities always found in a project meeting. It sure isn’t the only annoying person in my project meetings. No, I also have a wouldn’t-it-be-nice-guy. Him I could throttle every time he opens his mouth, because his suggestions are always so hideously far from the real world, I don’t even know where to begin to discredit him.
Of course, most people have a stickler in their meetings. I wish I was so lucky. Me, I have the Jitter-Critter. Every time any attention goes to him he starts trembling and stuttering so much I often think he’ll fall over and croak (unfortunately, he never actually does). On top of that, the little bugger is really good at avoiding work by acting as if he’s already got so much on his shoulders that he might break at any time and acting as if whatever you wanted from him is an awful lot of work. Even if you know for a fact, that what you want can be done in under five minutes, it is hard to argue with someone who doesn’t heed anyone’s opinions but his own.
In conclusion, project meetings are enough to make a keeper of knowledge go insane. At the very least they make me grumpy. Fortunately, the regulars at my HoK have realized this by now and so avoid me like the pest whenever they know I’ve just been in a meeting. The gods be blessed for little fortunes.
Of course, most people have a stickler in their meetings. I wish I was so lucky. Me, I have the Jitter-Critter. Every time any attention goes to him he starts trembling and stuttering so much I often think he’ll fall over and croak (unfortunately, he never actually does). On top of that, the little bugger is really good at avoiding work by acting as if he’s already got so much on his shoulders that he might break at any time and acting as if whatever you wanted from him is an awful lot of work. Even if you know for a fact, that what you want can be done in under five minutes, it is hard to argue with someone who doesn’t heed anyone’s opinions but his own.
In conclusion, project meetings are enough to make a keeper of knowledge go insane. At the very least they make me grumpy. Fortunately, the regulars at my HoK have realized this by now and so avoid me like the pest whenever they know I’ve just been in a meeting. The gods be blessed for little fortunes.
March 10, 2011
Apparently I’m a horrid imp
I’ve been lying low the last few months – just wanted to let some grass grow over the whole new dean thing. The HoK had a quiet and pleasant start into the new year and the new dean, so far, hasn’t made any changes that affect me. So I’m happy. Or at least I was until about a week ago.
See, there is this guy called Mikha who works in the mathematics department. He is supposed to be my mathematics liaison which means he does classifications and other such library related things. Unfortunately, Mikha is one of the most difficult imps I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. Talking to him is a test of nerves and endurance. He loves to talk, but never really says anything and he is slow. We’re talking snails pace here. I’ve been putting up with this for a long while, mainly because I couldn’t be bothered to actually sit through a prolonged discussion about his lack of work flow during which he would only tell me that he is such a poor, poor imp with so much to do and so little time to do it in.
Last week though, the limit was reached. By then it had been eight weeks since I had sent him a bunch of memory stones to be classified and described. That was too slow, even for him. So, I set out to talk to him. Wisely I had put aside the whole afternoon for that. It proofed necessary. He rambled on and on about what a pitiful little weenie (my words, not his) he was and how the whole world was resting on his bony shoulders. No wonder he never stands up straight, I guess. This time however his whining went unheeded, not a concept with which he’s very familiar it seems. I think he had a hard time with me not pitying him at all. Well, life’s a bitch. I told him quite clearly that I expected the work I had given him done by the end of the week. I was very proud of myself when I walked out of that office, because I hadn’t raised my voice once and had stayed quite polite during the whole meeting.
The next morning, the head of the mathematics department visited me. Apparently Mikha had had a near nervous breakdown because of our meeting. I actually had to sit there and listen to the head of the mathematics department explaining how poor Mikha was a sensible creature and always close to a nervous breakdown. Therefore, the poor boy shouldn’t be taxed too much and talked to only carefully. After all he was doing great work in general, he just had a lot to do, was burdened with so many tasks.
Then the head of department actually went and said: “You know. I think it would be best if you did not talk to Mikha directly anymore. Well, except if you want to praise him for something, that you can do personally. However, with criticism or workload you’d better come to me and I will then talk to him.”
I was so stunned by the sheer ridiculousness of this, that I didn’t know what to say. Me!
Well, in the end I promised I wouldn’t criticize Mikha anymore and instead come to the head of the department with any problems I had. Of course, I am going to keep to the ridiculous kindergarden-like rule. After all I don’t want to be responsible for Mikha’s total meltdown.
Now, how do I criticize Mikha without actually criticizing him? Hmm…
See, there is this guy called Mikha who works in the mathematics department. He is supposed to be my mathematics liaison which means he does classifications and other such library related things. Unfortunately, Mikha is one of the most difficult imps I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. Talking to him is a test of nerves and endurance. He loves to talk, but never really says anything and he is slow. We’re talking snails pace here. I’ve been putting up with this for a long while, mainly because I couldn’t be bothered to actually sit through a prolonged discussion about his lack of work flow during which he would only tell me that he is such a poor, poor imp with so much to do and so little time to do it in.
Last week though, the limit was reached. By then it had been eight weeks since I had sent him a bunch of memory stones to be classified and described. That was too slow, even for him. So, I set out to talk to him. Wisely I had put aside the whole afternoon for that. It proofed necessary. He rambled on and on about what a pitiful little weenie (my words, not his) he was and how the whole world was resting on his bony shoulders. No wonder he never stands up straight, I guess. This time however his whining went unheeded, not a concept with which he’s very familiar it seems. I think he had a hard time with me not pitying him at all. Well, life’s a bitch. I told him quite clearly that I expected the work I had given him done by the end of the week. I was very proud of myself when I walked out of that office, because I hadn’t raised my voice once and had stayed quite polite during the whole meeting.
The next morning, the head of the mathematics department visited me. Apparently Mikha had had a near nervous breakdown because of our meeting. I actually had to sit there and listen to the head of the mathematics department explaining how poor Mikha was a sensible creature and always close to a nervous breakdown. Therefore, the poor boy shouldn’t be taxed too much and talked to only carefully. After all he was doing great work in general, he just had a lot to do, was burdened with so many tasks.
Then the head of department actually went and said: “You know. I think it would be best if you did not talk to Mikha directly anymore. Well, except if you want to praise him for something, that you can do personally. However, with criticism or workload you’d better come to me and I will then talk to him.”
I was so stunned by the sheer ridiculousness of this, that I didn’t know what to say. Me!
Well, in the end I promised I wouldn’t criticize Mikha anymore and instead come to the head of the department with any problems I had. Of course, I am going to keep to the ridiculous kindergarden-like rule. After all I don’t want to be responsible for Mikha’s total meltdown.
Now, how do I criticize Mikha without actually criticizing him? Hmm…
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