The Ninth of Bethas, 2720, the forenoon
Or his reputation had preceded him. That too could be gratifying in its own unhappy way.
The letter then. Better to get the agony over with and read the inevitable. The envelope is heavy and textured, good quality. At least The Proceedings of the Consortium for Monic Studies has the sense to use only the finest stationary to deliver their rejections.
The letter opener, brass and ivory, almost dagger-like, and its sound, the catharsis of rending paper.
We the fellows of the Consortium in panel assembled do thank you for your most interesting submission . . .
Etc. etc.
Further review! Well that was rich, considering review was the whole point of submission, the point of any submission. A magnificent bit of logic on the part of the fellows, an argument so cunning it could only ever go their way. They should be commended. Or condemned. Either would do.To publish in their pages one required proper peer review, peer review that they and their ilk were the learned providers. Magnificently done. There was probably a paper in argument alone. Worth sending on to Pergola back in Anastou. She dearly loved an annoying piece of spurious reasoning. Had made a career of creating them and tearing them down. He cracked a small smile. It was always entertaining to bring a logician to a cocktail party. They either made an ass of themselves, or argued against all sense, but with iron-clad logic, that no matter how many glasses of grappa that they had consumed, it was logically impossible to be drunk. Pergola was an ass, but a very entertaining one.
He could use a coffee, strong as could be mustered here. It would have been something to occupy his hands, provide a little comfort while reading this entirely predictable letter.
The analysis of the Monite lexicon your propose is exceedingly novel, though we fear that so radical a proposal without more robust data, is neither prudent nor entirely in keeping with the editorial standards of our publication. . .
Of course it was novel. Of course it was radical. That was the point. Applications of undirected graph and net structures to try and work out the polysemy problem were new enough. The proposal that this analysis could lead to the discovery of hitherto unknown lexemes in Monite, to reconstructing lost or potential lexemes? Well, perhaps he was working at the thin end of analysis, but the boundaries had to be pushed. What else was scholarship for? Letting is languish in mere commentary on magic that had been done in the past, or in the practical applications of known principles, that was the path to stagnation, to rigidity, and ultimately to decay.
Was the analysis right? Were the lexemes he had ‘recovered’ valid? Small scale experiments were, well not conclusive, but promising. Always ‘promising’, it was the perpetual issue. He needed more data. He needed the experiments repeated, debated, his arguments torn apart or reinforced by leading scholars.
We remain, sir, your most humble obedient servants.
Oh fantastic. Yes, that meaningless mollification at the end should work wonders. A rare balm for a rejection. Soothing to the soul, and more than sufficient compensation for three pages of dry and academic insults in learned and unlovely language.
Very well. If review was required, if verification was required, then he would go through back channels. Sanaa Kibwe at Thul’Ka might review the work. He had never met her, not in person, but they had collaborated in the past. And she too had had any number of papers rejected. Would Cassano-Sforza at Anatou? He could at least be bribed with considerable citation. It could be done. It would take time.
More letters, this time his own, and copies of the paper. No small undertaking. They will need to be worded just so. Coffee is required, now more than ever. At least among the few amenities of this closet the University was pleased to call an office, someone had thought to install a bell-pull. Well done that person. A pull, a distant jangle.
A moment passes, then another. Footsteps in the corridor, drawing closer. There was no point in looking up when the door creaked open. Too much work to do.
“Ah, my compliments on your alacrity. If I may request strong, very strong, coffee? Black and rich as can be managed, I would be very much obliged.”