I kick my legs beneath me as I wait in the all too familiar foyer, the slightly chipped dull yellow paint taking me back to my days of study and my former job teaching in the nearby buildings. The old teaching building, a central point on my old campus, was well overdue for a renovation and in fact one was planned so long as the right funding could be secured.
It was why I had been called in today, despite being made redundant several months ago, the college needed money and knew I needed it as well. The email had been bare to say the least, mostly just confirming the time to come and the forms to fill out if I was interested in earning some ongoing cash.
Looking around the foyer, not seeing a single soul aside from myself, I quickly fish my phone from my pocket. With an uneasy feeling I pull up the email, the fear I had come at the wrong time slowly sinking in.
Dear Mr Hughes,
I hope this email is finding you well.
I wish to extend an invitation to you to join our newly funded R&D program.
We have recently secured funding to renovate the old Raymond Hall Building, as I'm
sure you are well aware is sorely needed. However, we are in desperate need of
volunteers to join the program and subjects in order to complete our end of the
arrangement.
As a part of the funding agreement we have budgeted to pay certain participants
for their time and effort, some even in an ongoing capacity. Due to our previous
professional relationship I am reaching out to offer you one of these ongoing
paid positions in the program.
Further details will be available closer to the start date.
If you are interested please come to the Raymond Hall building at 0700 next
Tuesday along with a copy of the attached forms (completed please).
On a personal note. I do hope you consider the position, it would be wonderful to
see you around the campus again.
Best wishes,
Rachel Mawab, Liaison for Swap Clinic R&D Projects
Looking at the time I breathe a small sigh of relief, finding that I was right about on time after arriving quite a bit early. I slump down in the maroon padded seat, the vinyl cover worn down and filled with various holes revealing the aging padding inside.
"Jordan!" coos a warm matronly voice, an ever so slight Turkish accent slipping through.
Looking up I watch as the doughy woman I hadn't seen in months quickly waddles up to me, her five-foot-five heavy-set frame hidden poorly beneath an ill-fitted labcoat. Her long black hair is tied back in a bun, the dyed silky locks being held in place by dozens of little pins.
Her deep brown eyes look down at me fondly, her soft rounded cheeks dimpling as she grins ear to ear. In her hands rest a small clipboard, a single sheet of paper sitting resting inside the clip.
"Hi Rachel" I call out, standing up from my seat as I put away my phone. I barely manage to get to my feet before the doughy older woman embraces me, quickly planting a quick kiss on each of my cheeks.
"I'm so glad you came" she chirps, placing her hands on my shoulders as she pulls back to look me over. She gasps a little, her eyes darting up and down my torso. "You're so skinny! Have you been eating properly?" she asks, the memories of being dotted over by my old department head soon coming back in force.
"I have I have..." I say dismissively, placing my hands on her shoulders as the signed forms crumple against her. "Oh, right... I brought the..." I begin to mutter, the shorter doughy woman quickly turning to snatch them from my hand.
"Wonderful" she coos, looking over the forms in search of all the right signatures. "This will be so much easier, we already have your payment details and... I mean, it will be so good to have you back working for us" she muses, quickly correcting herself.
"I... yeah, it's been hard to find another..." I mumble, cutting myself short as I watch Rachel begin to waddle away. She waves for me to follow along, my stride quickly allowing me to catch up to her.
"Oh I understand, academia is a rough business" she mutters shaking her head. "I'm just sorry I couldn't keep you on, but Hollie had just bought her apartment and Wendy was looking to start trying for..."
"I know I know" I huff, not wanting to be reminded that I was simply the most expendable of the fresh hires. As we walk along I start to notice the renovations were already underway, the painted plaster walls having been peeled back to expose all manner of fresh wiring within deeper inside the building.
"Mind your steps" Rachel chirps, shifting and swaying as she begins to walk over various bundles of power cords and data cabling. "We needed to set all this up for the tests, so this part of the building is still a bit of a mess for now"
"About that..." I muse, leaning over to try and see whatever was on the clipboard. "What are the tests? I just know it's with the Swap Clinic"
"How did you know that?" Rachel snaps in surprise, clutching the clipboard to her heaving saggy chest.
"It's in the email... your job title?" I chuckle in confusion, my laughter only growing as the older woman deflates a little.
"Oh, of course" she sighs, tapping her forehead. "I swear, I'm getting more forgetful every day."
"So... what's..." I begin to try and ask again, pausing as Rachel ducks into a nearby room. The once rather small and cramped classroom is filled with wiring, the cables running through to the next room thanks to a large series of holes in the wall.
A large metal machine sits in the back right corner, a mirroring machine being visible through one of the many wall holes. The device itself appears half-made, with large panels missing to expose the delicate innards to the world.
A team of researchers race around the tight confines of the classroom itself, soldering together connections and looking over script and command lines on a series of nearby computer screens. One of the team looks up at me, the short Filipino woman in her early thirties smiling giddily at the apparent volunteer before quickly redoubling her efforts with a set of circuit boards.
"Fantastic, simply wonderful" coos Rachel, immediately having forgotten my question. "Is it ready? Can Mr. Hughes take a seat inside the..."
"Um... Rachel?" I interject, reaching out to wave and catch her attention. "What's all... What are we..."
"Oh, right" Rachel mutters, tapping her head with the clipboard again. "We recently got funding from the Swap Clinic, as you know, to test the functionality of this new generation of swap...machine...things" she states, waving her hand at the device. "Namely, we're exploring what other capabilities these things could have beyond those normally marketed."
"What..." I wheeze, carefully stepping over thick taped cables as I approach the machine. "What do you mean by..."
"Well..." Rachel softly mutters, gritting her teeth as she struggles to meet my gaze. "Uh... Simon?" she calls out, looking to an older balding man typing frantically at one of the computers. "Can you..."
"You're here for a longer term test" the man mumbles, barely looking away from the screens.
"Right, right..." Rachel coos, "because we're paying you weekly for the..."
"But what is the test?" I ask, leaning with one hand on the looming steel frame of the machine.
"Oh..." Rachel chirps, smiling over at me. "Well this team is testing...
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