Page 110 of The New Gods
Oh,no. “Doctor,” I interrupted. “My title is doctor. You may use that to refer to me.”
This was twice I’d thrown off his plan, and I was glad to see I wasn’t the only one whose face was red.
“Dr. Ophidia,” he ground out, “we have a very serious allegation in front of us. One that puts not only this department’s, but this university’s reputation on the line.”
“I agree,” I replied, finally meeting Diana’s stare. “Wholeheartedly. First off, I would like to know why my research was shared with Dr. Regan, and how it was acquired. My computer is password protected, however, I do use the university’s Wi-Fi. I’ve also downloaded attachments which have come from this department. Please be assured, I’ll be taking my computer to a reputable technician to search my device for spyware. A very cursory internet search suggests that the technician will be able to identify the spyware, and where it was acquired.” I moved my gaze from Diana to Dr. Merton and over to Lord Elliot.
Dr. Merton’s face went red, and then white. He opened and closed his mouth, gulping air like a fish.
“Dr. Ophidia, your research is not secret. However, we can trace its origin to Dr. Regan. You were given an opportunity at this university despite your poor reputation…” Lord Elliot’s voice lifted, getting louder and louder with each word as if he was lent credibility by sheer volume.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand your role here. You have donated to the Ioannou Centre, but you are not part of an advisory committee in the classics department.” If this had been a western, I would have just kicked through the saloon doors and pulled out my pistols.“Nor is your wife.” From the first second I came into this building, I sensed that I’d have to be on the offensive. Most people thought that my size and youth meant that I wasn’t confident. And a lot of the time, I wasn’t.
Except when it came to my career. I was more than confident about my ability to make connections between evidence and theories. You could say when it came to my work—I was full of myself.
“Merton!” Lord Elliot turned in his chair, fully facing our department chair.
“Leonora.” Diana’s voice was smooth and melodic. She never raised her voice. It never trembled, or came out breathless. She was grace epitomized.
On the surface.
But she’d shown her true self to me, and I knew she was desperate and grasping and pathetic.
“Dr. Regan,” I replied, to demonstrate that I remembered our titles, even if she was purposefully ignoring mine.
“Leonora, I will admit, I have been upset with you since you took credit for the Turkey expedition. You got funding for that trip based solely on my reputation, and the research you completed was done under my guidance.”
I’d heard this all before, but it never failed to make me want to scream. There were some insults that dulled with time, but not this one. It was just as sharp and hot as it was the first time she’d leveled this accusation at me.
She paused, waiting for me to argue.
“Dr. Ophidia, you should reply to Dr. Regan’s statement,” Dr. Merton directed.
“I have already. At Harvard. All of this was discussed and discounted there, and you were well aware of it when I was offered the position here.”
None of the panel members replied, and I sighed. With a few clicks of my mouse, I called up the transcript from the hearing Diana had put me through at Harvard.
“This is a word-for-word transcription of the hearing you’re referencing at Harvard.” I peered from my computer to the panel. “Would you like me to review it?”
Had they really thought I’d come in and just let them rake me across the coals?
Fine.I’d go to my favorite part. “Dr. Regan,” I read, “are you saying that you funded Leonora’s research? Dr. Regan: yes. Dr. Regan, are you aware there is no record of any funds being transferred from your department, or grant, to Leonora? We do, however, have receipts from Leonora’s credit card showing purchase of tools, flights, rental cars…”
“That doesn’t speak to Dr. Regan’s claim that you are stealing her research!” Lord Elliot yelled, punctuating his point with a slam of his fist against the table where he sat.
Dr. Merton lifted his brows but said nothing.
“I do my own research.” I spoke low, and through clenched teeth, but with each passing question, my body got hotter.
“Mrs. Whitmore.” Dr. Merton turned to the woman who had been such a help to me at the Bodleian. “What can you say about Dr. Ophidia doing her own research?”
She glanced at me before gazing down at her clasped hands, and I knew, Iknew, she was going to lie. “Well, it depends on what book she’s talking about.”
“I’ll give you one,” Dr. Merton answered before I could. “The Al Mas’udi texts—and the Sprenger sketches. Dr. Ophidia told me she was able to view the Sprenger sketches.”
I had.I had the notes in my computer.
Mrs. Whitmore shook her head. “That’s impossible. All Sprenger items are housed at Princeton.”