The Veritas Conflict (14 page)

Victor smiled out at the windswept bay. “Of course.”

TWELVE

“T
HIS BUILDING HOUSES THE LARGEST UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
in the world.” A young man wearing a conservative suit and tie spoke in a low voice as he gestured toward the imposing ranks of books and high ceilings of Widener Library. A small group of well-dressed listeners obediently looked where he pointed. “Widener is also the third largest library in the country.”

Not five feet away, sitting at a table between shelves of books, Sherry caught Stefan’s glance and rolled her eyes. This was the second such group to walk through the Loker Reading Room in the past hour. She leaned across the table and whispered, “I thought they didn’t bring tours in where students were trying to study.”

“They don’t—not the normal tours. But there are a bunch of VIPs at Harvard for a conference today, so they’re touring them privately around the campus.” Stefan nodded toward the nearby group, careful not to look directly at them.” Don’t look now, but check out the tall guy with the silver hair. That’s the CEO of one of the largest Internet companies in the world. And that other man in the charcoal suit, I’m pretty sure that’s a state governor. And, by the way, the woman next to him
isn’t his wife
.”

Sherry casually leaned back in her chair, coughed, and turned her head, getting a fleeting glance of the governor and the woman standing close by his side. She flashed a raised eyebrow at Stefan and mouthed “how do you know?”

They leaned toward each other again.

“I think he said something that made my father wonder when Dad invited him to the conference.”

“Whoa! He told the organizers of the conference that he was bringing his
mistress?”

Stefan sputtered and made urgent quiet down motions with his hands. Sherry grimaced and looked around carefully. The group was still listening to the tour guide’s explanation of some point about Harvard’s history and hadn’t even glanced their way.

Stefan placed his textbook between them and leaned forward, pretending to show something to her. His lips were near her ear, making Sherry tingle. “No, silly, he just said that his wife might not be able to make it and that he would probably be accompanied by someone else.”

Sherry looked down at the textbook between them. “Yes, but c’mon—the guy’s a
public figure and he’s
married
. Isn’t it awfully stupid to be seen with someone other than his wife?”

Stefan arched an eyebrow. “Have you ever seen his wife? Nobody’s gonna blame the guy!”

Sherry started to giggle, unsuccessfully smothering her mouth against her hand.

“Oh listen!” Stefan nudged her with his shoulder. “Have you heard the Widener story yet? You gotta listen to this part.”

Sherry sat back and picked up her notebook, studiously staring at it while she tuned her ears to the nearby group.

“… so the young Harry Elkins Widener decided to travel home from England in 1912, bringing with him a massive collection of books and papers. The 1907 Harvard graduate was planning to donate his personal library to the college. Unfortunately for him, he decided to join the maiden voyage of the new luxury liner
Titanic
that was getting so much press.”

The group murmured in surprise. Fascinated, Sherry began to jot notes in her European history notebook.

Story of Widener Library: Harry Elkins Widener, Harvard grad going back to school from England with books. 1912. The Titanic. Oops
.

“Young Harry, like so many other young men, did not get a seat on a lifeboat and was lost in the freezing water. Obviously, all his books were lost as well. Harry’s mother, Mrs. Widener, decided to commemorate her beloved son by gifting Harvard with two million dollars to build a library in his name. Two million dollars may not sound like much in today’s dollars, but at the turn of the century it was an enormous amount of money—enough to build a monumental facility with sixty-five
miles
of shelves and capacity for three million books.”

Harry drowned. Mrs. Widener (mother) gave $2 million for library
.

“However, her grant to the college had three strict stipulations. One, she decreed that all Harvard students must be taught how to swim.” He smiled as several people in the group chuckled.

“Two, that a room be created in the library that would look just like Harry’s, right up to having a fresh carnation placed in a vase every morning.”

Three conditions on her grant: 1) all students know how to swim. 2) room look just like Harry’s (example: carnation every morning)
.

“And finally, that ‘not a brick would change’ in the library once it was built.” The guide paused and looked around at his rapt audience. “For almost ninety years now, the college has been careful to adhere strictly to these stipulations, with the exception of the first. It wasn’t that it was an odd request—it was just illegal because it discriminated against physically challenged students.”

3) not a brick of the library would change. Harvard has kept all conditions but #1 (discriminates against disabled students)
.

As she wrote, Sherry smiled to herself. Harvard was so funny—they were careful not to label any viewpoint as odd, no matter how strange. But if it was
discriminatory,
…well, that was a different matter!

She noticed Stefan looking at her, and she smiled at him. He smiled back, the dimple in his cheek becoming more pronounced. She looked back down at her notebook, trying not to blush.

“… others weren’t problems,” the tour guide was saying, “but stipulation number three actually presented a
big
problem to the school a few years back. It was clear that we were quickly outgrowing the current confines of Widener, but how do you put an extension on a building that has a formal stipulation that not a brick can change?”

The tour guide smiled and pointed at the large windows set in the east wall of the library. “Well, Mrs. Widener said no
brick
could change, but she said nothing about a
window
. So what we did—as you’ll see when we go outside in a moment—was knock out a large window on the second floor and build a skyway. That connected this building to the expansion building—the Pusey Library—that was constructed a few feet away, right next door. Voilà! Any questions before we move on?” The group started to move away.

Number 3 problem when outgrew Widener. But Mrs. W said no brick change
’—
so they knocked out a
window
to build connection to extension building Clever!

“Well, well, young Stefan, is that you, so diligently bent over your studies?”

The Internet CEO had stopped by their table. Stefan rose to his feet and shook the man’s hand.

“Hello. Good to see you, sir.”

“I thought that was you, son. We’re enjoying the conference time. Your father has put together a really good group of people.” He turned to Sherry, who was trying not to stare. “And who is your friend here?”

“This is Sherry. We have a class together.”

Sherry stood up and shook the offered hand. “Sherry Rice. Nice to meet you, sir.”

“My pleasure. Well, I hope we didn’t disturb you kids.”

Sherry smiled. “No problem, sir. I enjoyed eavesdropping on that story he was telling y’all.” She gestured at the tour guide, who was moving the group toward the doors at the far end of the room.

“Well, good. Nice to meet you, Sherry. I’m sure I’ll see you later, Stefan.”

Sherry noticed that as he turned away, the CEO flashed a thumb’s up at Stefan. She quickly took her seat, pleased in spite of herself. She hoped Stefan hadn’t seen her blush. She heard his chair scrape the floor as he sat down again.

“It’s amazing the people that you know, mister!” she said.

“Well, hey. That’s a prime benefit of having a father on the faculty.”

In a classroom across campus a TA eyed the seats in front of him. Martin’s gaze rested on a young woman, a student with dark hair and eyes, who had made a promising comment during the class discussion on business precepts.

Another student was going on and on about something, but Martin wasn’t listening. He caught the professor’s eye and nodded toward the girl. The professor subtly nodded yes and returned his attention to the class. The TA made a mark next to her name. Mercedes Ramon.

When the class broke up a few minutes later, Martin walked out past her chair and stopped to chat. After a few moments of banter, he looked at his watch and then gestured down to where the professor was surrounded by a few other students.

“You know, Professor Pike likes to get to know his business students. A few of us were just going to grab some lunch with the professor—want to join us?”

An hour later, Anton Pike sipped the last of his iced tea, listening to the conversation between three students and his TA. The girl seemed a promising possibility. He raised his hand and caught their waiter’s eye, making a quick gesture. The waiter nodded.

When the bill arrived, Martin picked it up and then began patting his jacket pockets. “Nuts! I forgot my reading glasses.”

He looked across the table and casually handed the bill to Mercedes. “Since you have the least seniority here, looks like you get stuck with bill duty.” He grinned over at her. “A crack business student like you shouldn’t have any trouble figuring out who owes what, right?”

Anton watched the girl intently. She looked around the table, noting who had which dish, and—

“Huh—he forgot to charge for my lunch.” Mercedes was looking down at the restaurant’s printout. “The bill is short by probably twelve dollars.”

Neither Anton nor Martin said anything. Mercedes glanced around the table. “Tell you what, rather than just me getting the windfall, let’s spread the wealth. I’ll go ahead and chip in some, and the rest of you can pay two dollars less than you would have otherwise.”

One of the other students said, “Shouldn’t we tell the waiter his bill was short? He’ll get in trouble when he tries to balance his accounts at the end of his shift.”

Mercedes waved a hand. “No, no. I used to wait tables; it’s easy to just write those
things off. You just say there was a problem with the meal so you deducted it from the bill or something. Besides, if he didn’t catch it, why should we point it out to him?”

The others pulled out their wallets and started putting cash into the center of the table. Anton leaned back in his chair and smiled to himself. Yes. A very promising possibility.

THIRTEEN

“W
AIT A MINUTE
—
WHICH
CLASS DO YOU HAVE AFTER LUNCH
?” A cacophony of lunchtime clatter surrounded Claire and her hallmate Teresa as they found an empty table in Loker Commons, the bustling food court and entertainment area underneath Memorial Hall. Teresa brushed crumbs off her chair and unloaded her tray, looking up at Claire for an answer.

“I think its full name is Bible Writings and Interpretations. It’s a religion class.” Claire smiled at the confused look on Teresa’s face.

“That’s not a freshman class, is it?”

“Nope. I had so many Bible classes at my high school that they allowed me to waive into an advanced religion class—even one that’s cross-registered with a few graduate students at the
div school!”
She saw the slight frown on Teresa’s face. “Don’t worry. The first two days of material was all stuff I’d had before. I honestly expected it to be tougher than it was.” She popped a french fry into her mouth, grinning mischievously. “Other than the fact that we’ve already had to write a paper it seems fine.”

“No way! You’ve already had a paper? In the first two days of class?”

“Yep. Apparently, advanced and graduate school classes have a lot more writing. It wasn’t much, really. Just a two-page overview of issues raised by writers like St. Augustine. Pretty easy, since I like Augustine—even if some others in the class don’t!”

Teresa raised an eyebrow in query.

“Well,” Claire continued, “I sort of got the impression that a few people in the class aren’t exactly thrilled with Christianity and are taking the class more to poke holes than to study the Bible.”

“Claire, I’m not trying to give you advice or anything. I don’t know you well enough yet, and I may be completely wrong about this whole thing. But just let me mention something, okay?”

Claire nodded briefly, growing irritated by the concern that continued to hover on Teresa’s face.

“I know you went to a Christian high school, and you probably know the Bible backward and forward—probably much better than I do. But did you know that the divinity school here isn’t a purely Christian program at all? Seriously, it’s true. Several people from my high school went through Harvard, and they all say the same thing:
The div school isn’t really a seminary to ordain Christian pastors anymore and sometimes is actually hostile to biblical Christianity.”

“That seems awfully silly, Teresa.…”

“I know, I know, but at least check into it. The div school seems to value tolerance and openness to other faiths above all else.”

“You mean getting more liberal?” Claire shrugged and glanced at her watch. “I don’t mind talking about less conservative theology.”

“Look, I’m the last person to get into quibbles about conservative theology versus liberal theology. I go to a mainstream Presbyterian church where my favorite pastor is a woman. That’s not the kind of thing I mean. Just … take a look at the div school’s class offerings sometime, rather than just those classes cross-registered with the undergrads. Or go to their Web site—it’s kinda spooky. It’s almost easier to find a respectful discussion of Buddhist or Hindu thinking than orthodox Christianity.”

“At a
divinity school?”

“Look, I’m just a freshman. What do I know? But I was warned about that several times before coming here by Christian men and women I respect. They say the same thing is happening at a lot of other schools.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do about it? Why are you telling me this?”