“Hope you are doing well,” said Professor Wingut in his message. He fidgeted as he spoke.
Reminders were not the kind of message a historian likes, and sending one to another historian was almost never done.
“Just wanted to see how you are coming on the preliminary report. If there is an early draft of it, I want to read it. Let me help you make a report that will be given the support it needs. We need to send it out at least a day before the meeting. Anyway, that’s all. Please give my regards to your parents.”
The message was delivered to the device. Logs showed a successful handshake. And there the message sat, unread. At the end of his workday, Wingut began his end-of-day checks. Task list, reminders, big ideas, little ideas, comms. When he got to the comms, he noticed that his message had sat unopened.
Reminders are not the kind of message a historian likes to send, and upgrading one from a reminder to an IMPORTANT reminder is something almost never done, and one historian doing this to another has happened less frequently than Nash’s Comet. So it was with much reluctance that Wingut upgraded the message. He thought about the noticeable way the communicator would flash red when the message upgrade happened. It would also vibrate with increasing intensity. But for both of these reminders to happen, the comms device would have to be in contact with the person being reminded. Koven’s device was not.
Professor Wingut had an excellent dinner. It was one of his favorite vegetables, piol, lightly battered and fried, then covered in a spicy curry sauce and served with cashew nuts on top. He had a sparkling beverage from MedWaters. The soothing beverage undid the work of the curry on his sensitive stomach. His parents had had very little money to spend with the geneticists. They were philosophers.
When he got into his pajamas later that night, just before he selected the new holocasts on the most mundane aspects of horticulture that would lull him to sleep most nights, he decided to call a tech.
“Hello, this is Adam. How can I help you, Professor Wingut? It is an honor to speak with you, sir.”
“Adam, I’ve got an overdue historian,” Wingut replied.
“Sounds like a file from the Share,” Adam said, using the new term for library.
“Can you please confirm the location of Koven Modi on Earth 7?”
“Yes, sir, please give me a moment to look it up. Here, I’ve got it. Let me share that with you.”
A holocast started over a map of Earth 7.
“You will see, sir, that this is his location. Now if we zoom in we can see that his comms device is not with him. Here is the camera image from it.”
It was a room. Not large and not well furnished. The comms lay on a table along with a folded PPS.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” asked Adam.
“No. Thank you very much.”
“And sir, if I could ask you for one suggestion on how I can improve my performance?” asked Adam.
“Don’t ask that question,” said Professor Wingut.
“Thank you for your feedback,” replied Adam.
Wingut went to bed thinking about Indira. Years ago she had seemed so beautiful to him. Her exotic features and her warm smile untangled his awkward heart. Now, many revs later, he might have to tell her that her child was missing.
The next morning, right after the staff meeting, Wingut went to Longley’s office. He closed the door behind him.
“Koven Modi is missing. He’s detached from his comms on Earth 7,” said Wingut.
“Good morning to you too,” said Longley.
“Good morning. I felt I should get right to the point.”
“And how long has Modi been missing?” Longley asked.
“Overnight.”
“Just overnight?”
“But he is detached from comms,” Wingut retorted.
“Policy is clear that an agent can be considered missing only after two revs on Centrum Kath,” replied Longley.
“Is this about my support for giving planets to the Sociology Department?”
“Yes, to some extent it is, and also about your lack of loyalty,” replied Longley.
“Do you hear yourself? Lack of loyalty? Are you serious?”
“Completely,” replied Longley. “He will be considered missing only after two revs and not before then. Of course, you are allowed to assemble a rescue team in the meantime. But good luck with that. Klept has everyone available.”
Wingut stood in front of the desk in shock. A missing agent was considered a priority one event. Always, until now.
“If there is anything else you wish to discuss, then please state it, else leave. I have a busy day. Thank you,” and Longley looked up from his desk at Wingut and smiled in a plastic shrink-wrapped manner.
“I will go to Dean Midge,” Wingut said angrily.
“She is in meetings until late this afternoon. But you might try her at lunch,” said Longley, still smiling.
Wingut left Longley’s office. He smashed his fist into the door-opening console as he left. Sparks jumped under the smashed glass of the console.
When he got to the bottom of the building, he exited the large doors and walked down the sidewalk. He stared back at the building. Up in his office, he could see Longley sitting at his desk.
Wingut walked towards the Sociology building.