The Coming of Spring ~ CLOSED ~

“Son of a bitch! Is he serious?”

David crumpled the memo up in his hand, closed his fist around it and slammed the fist down on his desk. Several items on the desk rattled briefly. He sat for a moment, fuming, and then shoved his chair back and came to his feet. He stormed out of his office, stalking past his startled graduate assistant, who looked at him with a worried frown.

“Don’t worry, Sandra, I’m not pissed at you,” he growled, continuing through the outer door and then down the hall towards the Chancellor’s offices. He strode through the open outer door, looked at the Chancellor’s administrative assistant, and asked gruffly, “Is he in?”

The woman looked up at him for a moment, saw the expression on David’s face, and simply nodded, her eyes widening slightly. The man was angry, and it was plainly visible on his face. She wisely decided to simply let him pass unchallenged.

David stormed angrily to the door of the Chancellor’s private office, brusquely opening it without knocking. He stepped up to the enormous mahogany desk, threw the crumpled memo down in front of the Chancellor, and glared at him, deep blue eyes narrowed to near slits.

“What the hell is this about?” he demanded angrily.

Chancellor Miglorie gazed coolly up at the head of the Computer Science department for a long moment, a slight smile on his lips. That smile did not touch his eyes, though, and David knew it was as fake as everything else about the man. After several seconds, he said softly, “I assume this is the memo I sent to you this morning, Doctor Bryson?”

“For Christ’s sake, Miglorie,” he hissed, “what the hell else would it be? Now what in the hell is this about?”

Miglorie’s lips twitched just slightly. “It is about exactly what it says it’s about,” he said, voice as smooth as silk. He was enjoying this immensely.

The Chancellor didn’t like Dr. David Bryson. Oh, the man was brilliant, there was no doubt about that. He was at the top of his field, an expert working on the cutting edge of artificial intelligence and its potential applications. He was, in fact, the leading expert in AI in the country, perhaps the world.

He was also, in the Chancellor’s eyes, an arrogant, impatient and demanding faculty member who had a tendency to grate on those around him. When he had received word that the University would be hosting a visitor from the Environmental Sciences Institute at the Polytechnic University of Tirana in Albania, he had seen an opportunity to legitimately annoy David.

Miglorie had decided that Bryson would be the University’s liaison while the visiting academic was in the United States. Bryson didn’t get along with most people. The fact that the visitor was a woman made it even better. Bryson would be forced to be on his best behavior, at least for the length of time that she was a guest of the school.

“Goddammit, Miglorie,” David fumed, “you damned well know that I don’t have the fucking time to babysit some earth sciences tree hugger. I’m up to my neck in work. Find someone else to do this.”

Miglorie smiled, a politician’s smile.

“Dr. Bryson,” he said softly, “there is no need for profanity. The decision is made. After a good deal of discussion, it was decided that you are the faculty member best suited to act as liaison.”

In fact, there had been no discussion. Miglorie had made this decision independently. He tipped his chair back a little, hands resting comfortably on his substantial belly. The politician’s smile widened slightly. Oh, he was enjoying this.

“Consider it a vacation of sorts. You’ll be spending most of your time with Dr. Ruçi while she’s visiting us, and the university is confident that you will make her feel welcome and at home while she is our guest.”

“God damn it, Miglorie,” he shouted, “how in the hell am I supposed to do this? I don’t know a fucking thing about earth sciences, and I’m pretty damned sure that Dr. whatever the hell his name is knows nothing about computers or AI.”

“Dr. Ruçi,” Miglorie said quietly. “Dr. Pranvera Ruçi. He is a she, Dr. Bryson. We expect that you’ll be able to keep her busy and entertained while she is a guest of this institution. You really are the person best qualified for this.”

“For Christ’s sake,” David muttered angrily. “How long is she going to be here?”

Miglorie’s smile widened a bit more. “We really aren’t sure. It’s an open-ended visit. At least a month, possibly two.”

David’s mouth dropped open, causing Miglorie’s smile to break into a full on grin.

“A month? Maybe two? What the fuck, Miglorie, I can’t afford to be away from my lab that long, and you fucking know it.”

Miglorie dropped his chair back forward, wiped the smile from his face and busied himself shuffling some papers on the desk. He didn’t look up again.

“The matter is closed, Dr. Bryson,” he said coldly. “You will be the University’s liaison while Dr. Ruçi is visiting. That will be all.”

David stood rooted in place, fuming silently. He hated this piece of shit.

After several seconds had passed, Miglorie spoke again. “That will be all, Doctor”

David stood still for one more moment, glaring at the bald spot on the top of Miglorie’s head. He spun on his heel, muttered, “Asshole,” just loudly enough to be heard, and stalked from the room.

Chancellor Miglorie leaned back in his chair again with a deep sigh of satisfaction. “Oh, my,” he thought, “that was more fun than sex.”

David stormed past the Chancellor’s assistant, who was watching him pass with eyes wide in shock at what she had just overheard. When he passed out of her office, she smiled. She didn’t much like the Chancellor, either. She had often wished she was in a position to speak to him the way that Dr. Bryson had just done. But she needed her job.

David strode back into his own department offices. As he passed her desk, he growled at his graduate assistant, “Sandra, I need to speak to you in my office.”

Sandra quickly rose and followed her boss into his private office. Though she found him intimidating at times, she loved working for him. He could be difficult, but he was amazingly intelligent. She had learned more from him in the past six months as his assistant than she had in the entire four years of her undergraduate studies.

She entered his office and stood waiting.

“Sit,” he said. “We need to talk.”

Sandra sat in the chair in front of Bryson’s desk, and watched him drop into his chair with a frustrated sigh. He was pissed, she could tell. She just hoped it didn’t involve her.

“I’m going to be busy for a while, and out of the lab,” he said. “I’m going to need you to take over for me while I’m gone.”

Sandra gasped audibly and then said, “Excuse me, Doctor?”

Bryson leaned back in his chair and gazed at her. His eyes softened. This woman was good. He trusted her to keep things moving for him while he was busy babysitting. He knew she was more than capable; he also knew that she might not believe that. He took a deep breath, calming himself.

“Sandra, I’ve been given a babysitting job. There’s an environmental scientist from Albania who will be visiting us here. I’ve been told that I’m now the University’s liaison for that visit. I’ll be out of the lab for at least a month, possibly as long as two. I’m sure I can find time to drop in and check on things, but I need someone I can trust to keep this place on track while I’m gone. You’re best person to do it.”

Sandra’s eyes widened. “Me, Doctor Bryson? Why me?”

“Because, you work with me on a daily basis. You know better than anyone else here how I want things done. The other grad assistants look up to you. I don’t trust anyone else to do this for me. You’re the best grad student I have in the lab. I need you in my place while I’m gone.”

A slow smile spread across Sandra’s face, lighting up her eyes. This was huge. Dr. Bryson was putting her in charge of the lab. For a month. Maybe even two months! She looked at him intently.

“You trust me that much, Doctor?” she asked.

He smiled. “I do,” he said quietly.

Sandra glanced down at her lap for a moment, then looked back up. “Thank you, Doctor. I’m honored.”

“Don’t be too honored,” he said. “It’s going to be tough, and you know it. But yes, I trust you to handle things for me. I don’t need to tell you anything, you know how I do things, and how I want things done. But if you have any questions while I’m not here, just call me.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Sandra said. “You can count on me.”

“I know that,” David replied. “That’s why I’m putting you in charge. Our visitor will be here the day after tomorrow. That’s when you take over. You may as well go and let the rest of the lab staff know. If they have any questions that you can’t answer, send them to me.”

“Yes, Doctor,” she replied, rising to her feet. “And thank you, Doctor. Thank you so much.”

David nodded. “You’re welcome. Now go and let them know what’s happening. I have some research to do on our visitor.”

As Sandra turned and left the office, Bryson turned to his computer and did a search for the Polytechnic University of Tirana. He found the profile of the faculty member he would be babysitting, and began to read. Then, he did a much deeper search on Dr. Pranvera Ruçi herself, and began to study.

The plane jerked again and Vera closed her eyes. She hated flying and her flight from Tirana seemed never ending. She was tired but excited. The 36 year old environment scientist had made it to the environmental policy advisory committee of her country, the first female to do so in the history of Albania. Perhaps it was not as great an achievement as a first female president but it was an achievement of sorts. Now she had the chance to visit one of the top institutes for environmental policies in the world and she was excited. She had never been to the United States, indeed she had never been outside of the European Union.

She thanked the air hostess in her heavily accented English and sipped her tomato juice. Her long brown hair was tied in a loose bun and her gold-flecked brown eyes had blue shadows under them. She hadn't slept well at night. She sincerely hoped that she got a few hours of sleep before the flight landed.

She was more than a little apprehensive about meeting her contact at the University. While Chancellor Miglorie had seemed kindly enough, the man he named as the liaison, Dr Bryson had seemed extraordinarily hostile. She had spoken to him a few times before her departure from Tirana and he wasn't very subtle in communicating his less than friendly feelings. Dr. David Bryson was a Titan in his field and Vera had been surprised when she heard he was going to be her host during her visit. She put it down to University politics, something she was all too familiar with and hope his animosity towards the situation wouldn't get reflected towards her.

She practiced her introduction in her mind. Dr Bryson had not bothered to pronounce her name correctly. He once had called her Rusi and once Ruki. He hadn't even bothered to try pronouncing the ç in her name the French way. Yes, even Dr. Rushi would have been good.

She muttered in her mind, trying to speak as clearly as she could. "Hello, my name is Dr. Ruçi. It is a pleasure to meet you Dr. Bryson." She stressed on the Ch sound of the ç and smiled that this little thing was bothering her.

Slowly sleep took her and a few hours later, a rested yet still bedraggled Vera waited outside the airport with her suitcase , looking for the man she knew from his webpage. She was suddenly nervous in her long flowing skirt and loose embroidered shirt. The city around her looked modern and in sharp contrast to the quaint Ottoman influenced architecture of her hometown. She was well and truly in America and she felt rather out of place. A familiar looking man approaching her purposefully caught her attention.

Bryson stepped out of his car wearily, slamming the door behind him and pressing the lock button on the key fob. He knew what Dr. Ruçi looked like from the pictures he’d seen on the web pages he had studied in preparation for her visit. She was attractive enough, he thought, but he knew from experience that such photographs did not always reflect reality. His own profile picture made him looked far more polished than he actually was. Handsome in a gruff sort of way, he did not have the smooth good looks of a celebrity, as his profile portrait made it seem.

Walking quickly, he headed toward the main terminal, where he had made arrangements to meet the Albanian scientist. He ran his fingers through his thick, unruly black hair, a habit when he was nervous. When he had spoken with her, Ruçi had shown a good command of English, though she had a thick accent. She had a pleasant voice, though, which had irritated him. Irritated him because he found himself focusing on her gender rather than business, and caused him to wonder if she was indeed as attractive as her photograph. He intended to put the focus of this visit strictly on business. He did not want to think of her as a woman; he preferred to think of her only as a visiting academic he was obliged to amuse for an extended period of time.

As he neared the terminal, he scanned the crowd, looking for a brown-haired woman he assumed would be dressed in business attire. Still scanning the crowd, he didn’t notice the slender woman in casually comfortable clothes who approached him. “Dr. Bryson?”

David stopped and looked down at the speaker, his eyes widening just a bit. The smiling, strikingly pretty woman extended her hand to him. “Hello, Dr. Bryson. My name is Dr. Pranvera Ruçi,” she said, her words pronounced in the precise manner of someone whose native language is not English. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Bryson found himself staring as he extended his hand to shake hers. He did manage to keep his wits about him enough to notice that he had been mispronouncing her name on the phone.

“Dr. Ruçi,” he said, smiling a bit ruefully as he stressed the correct pronunciation of her name. “The pleasure is mine. Did you have a pleasant flight?”

“It was very long,” she replied, “and I dislike flying. But it wasn’t unpleasant.”

Bryson found himself tuning out her words as he took her in. She was actually quite beautiful. Her picture, he decided, had not done her justice. Her clothes were designed for comfort, and did not particularly show off her figure, but he could see that her body was a perfect complement to her face. She stood a head shorter than his six feet. Some stray strands of long, chestnut brown hair had escaped the bun that was casually done up, giving her an attractively disheveled appearance.

He took her luggage from her, and gestured in the direction of his car. They walked in silence, he suddenly felt uncomfortable, a feeling he didn’t quite understand. As they walked, he found that he didn’t know what to say, which was not usually like him. As they settled into the car for the drive, he turned and looked at her once more. He was struck by her eyes – a deep brown flecked with gold. He found them… Unsettling.

“Welcome to Boston, Dr. Ruçi,” he said with a forced smile. “Now, let’s get you to the apartment so you can rest up from your trip.”

He steered towards the parking lot exit, and settled into an uncomfortable silence as he headed towards Cambridge.

Vera glaced at Dr. Bryson again. He had kept his eyes on the road and didn't seem particularly keen on conversation. He had answered her questions patiently enough but never anything more.
Vera found herself wishing again that her liaison had been a new faculty closer to her in age than the illustrious Dr. Bryson.

Dr. Bryson exuded personality and poise. Vera felt extremely intimidated by him and blushed furiously each time she asked him something. She watched his hands on the steering wheel and thought about the numerous algorithms he had developed. He was handsome in the way certain academics are, wearing his brilliance like an aura.

Dr. Bryson pulled up to the house Vera would be staying in and escorted her inside. He wheeled her suitcase in and grabbed her bag at the exact moment she did and as they both pulled, the raggedly old thing split at the zip and her personal items spilled out - toothbrush, toothpaste, face wash as well as the couple of underclothes she had kept in her hand luggage for emergency. A black lacy panty flew out and dropped on his left shoe. Vera looked in utter embarrassment and scrambled to collect everything. She looked up and saw Dr. Bryson flush a deep red.

The rest of the moving in was uneventful and Vera almost breathed a sigh of relief to be sitting down. She had nothing to offer Dr. Bryson, no tea or coffee she could make. She realised she would have to go grocery shopping as soon as she could and wished once again that she had a young woman acting as her host. She was tired and wanted a shower . She wanted a local cellphone to call her sister back home. She wanted to eat something. And more than anything else, she desperately wanted not to be intimidated by the man who would be her host for her stay. She glanced at the silent man and sat, uncomfortable, looking at her hands and waiting for him to talk.