(Based on characters in The Lightning in the Collied Night)

September 29, 2043

Lai nervously tapped her right foot on the plush navy-blue carpet as she waited in the small reception area for her interview with the director of the Harvard Center for Astrophysics. It was the final hurdle standing between her and her first job since earning her PhD in quantum physics at Cambridge University one month earlier. Her interviews with some of the Center’s senior physicists had focused on her graduate studies and internships. But, I have no idea what to expect from Dr. Kewley, Lai worried as she recalled the illustrious career of the CfA’s long-time director. I just hope she doesn’t bring up—

“Dr. Shen, the director will see you now,” the executive assistant sitting at the reception desk said as she looked at Lai. “Please go right in.” She nodded toward the ornate oak door leading to the inner office.

“Yes, uh, thank you, Ms. Mathenge,” Lai replied as she got up from her chair. She hadn’t yet gotten used to being called Doctor.

“Good luck,” Mathenge said as Lai approached the door.

Lai swiveled her head toward Mathenge with an apprehensive smile, “Thanks.” Then she opened the door and stepped into the office.

“Dr. Shen, I’m so glad to finally meet you!” Director Kewley said in her Australian accent as she smiled warmly and approached Lai with an outstretched hand.

“Thank you, Director. It’s such an honor to meet you,” Lai replied as she shook Kewley’s hand.

“Please, have a seat and let’s talk.” Kewley motioned toward a small table with chairs next to her desk and sat down in one of the chairs. Lai sat in a chair opposite her. “I must apologize; I have only 15 minutes for our discussion. Too much to do, and not enough time in a day.” Lai nodded, and Kewley elaborated, “Tomorrow is my last day at the Center. I’m retiring after 21 years as director.”

Lai’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “Oh! Congratulations, Director.” Lai tried to hide her disappointment. One of the reasons she’d applied at the Harvard CfA was Dr. Kewley’s reputation in the astrophysics arena.

“Thank you, Dr. Shen. May I call you Lai?”

“Certainly, Director.”

“And please call me Lisa. Now, let’s get down to brass tacks.” She glanced down at the holopad on the table. “Your academic record is ace,” Kewley continued. “Top of your class at the University of Minnesota, and bonzer marks on your PhD thesis. Dean Hanwick from the U of M and your graduate advisor from Cambridge can’t say enough good things about you.” She looked up from the pad. “And the scientists who interviewed you here gave you rave reviews.” She sat back in her chair. “Which is why I wanted to meet you, before I head off to retirement. From everything I’ve seen and heard, you would make an exceptional addition to our team, Lai.”

Lai looked into the director’s eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop. And then, it did.

“There’s a gap of almost one year in your academic record—from February 2039 until January 2040. And you transferred from Stanford to Minnesota, despite being at the head of your class at Stanford. I was curious as to why.”

Lai shifted in her chair and cleared her throat. “Director…Lisa…I didn’t transfer from Stanford. I was expelled.” Lai noticed that Kewley didn’t look surprised. I wonder if someone at Stanford, or Dean Hanwick, told her about that…

“Would you mind telling me why you were expelled?”

“I was arrested at an on-campus protest against the American Security Act,” Lai began in a subdued voice. “More than 30 people were injured by a firebomb. I helped organize the protest, but I had nothing to do with the bombing. I plead No Contest to a class A misdemeanor and served 60 days in federal prison. Stanford expelled me after the conviction.”

The Hoover Tower bombing, Kewley recalled as she considered the young scientist before her. “So, you didn’t know about the bombing?” Lai shook her head. “Was there anything you could have done to prevent it?”

Lai looked at Kewley’s many academic honors on the wall in front of her as she thought for a few seconds, then she shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. I trusted someone I shouldn’t have trusted. Maybe, if I’d asked more questions, those people wouldn’t have been hurt.”

Kewley looked into Lai’s eyes. “It’s difficult to know what’s in a person’s mind, and heart,” she said softly. “Life is fraught with uncertainty.” She smiled slightly. “We physicists even have a principle about uncertainty in nature, as you know.” The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, Lai recalled. “But, despite this uncertainty, we do the best we can, we learn, and we carry on. Some lessons are more painful than others.” She paused. “From what I can see, you did the best you could in a difficult situation, you learned from it, and now…here you are, Dr. Shen.”

“Yes,” Lai smiled faintly, with gratitude for Kewley’s kindness and understanding, “here I am.” And not only that…I’m lucky to be alive, Lai reflected as she thought about what had happened after her release from prison four years earlier—which seemed so long ago, to her.

“As one of my last official acts as director, I would like to welcome you to the Harvard Center for Astrophysics,” Kewley said as she smiled at Lai, stood up, and extended her right hand. Lai was momentarily taken aback, but stood up and shook the director’s hand.

“Thank you, Lisa! I’m so happy to be here!”

Kewley checked the clock on her pad. “Lai, I’m sorry, but I have another meeting in a few minutes. I wish we could chat longer, but I’ll be sure you have my contact information after I’m off to retirement.” She moved toward the door, and Lai followed her. “My assistant will help you with the onboarding process.” She paused and smiled. “I know most people have AI assistants these days, but I don’t know what I would do without her—she’s one in a million.”

“Okay, I’ll work with Ms. Mathenge. Thank you, again, Lisa. I hope you have a wonderful retirement.”

“Thank you. A new beginning for both of us, eh? Cheers, Lai, and all the best to you. I think you’ll love working here.”

Lai stepped into the outer office and stopped at Mathenge’s desk. The assistant grinned at Lai.

“I believe congratulations are in order, Dr. Shen!”

“Thank you, Ms. Mathenge. Lisa told me you could help me with onboarding.”

“Yes, I can…but only if you call me Nyota,” she winked.

“Okay, Nyota—and I’m Lai.”

“Welcome aboard, Lai.” She handed her a holopad. “Please fill this out, and then we’ll discuss your start date and other details.”

“Will do.” Lai sat down and started working her way through the lengthy form, until she came to a question that gave her pause:

        What is your religious preference?

There was a list of choices, including None. “Excuse me, Nyota…there’s a question about religious preference. I was wondering why the Center cares about that.”

Mathenge nodded knowingly. “I understand why you might wonder about that question. It is voluntary. There are two reasons for it. First, federal law requires that we reasonably accommodate an employee’s religious beliefs or practices. It helps if we know up front what those are.”

Lai nodded, “I see. What’s the other reason?”

“Well, that one isn’t as positive.” She paused. “Harvard has chaplains of many faiths. If we know an employee’s religious preference, we can engage the appropriate chaplain if…the employee isn’t able to request the chaplain themselves.”

Lai’s eyebrows went up. “Oh…that makes sense. Thanks, Nyota.”

Lai returned to the question on the pad. She was about to select None, but she noticed Buddhist was on the list. Her parents were devout Buddhists and had encouraged Lai to adopt that faith when she was younger, but she’d stopped practicing it as a teenager. Since then, she’d considered herself an atheist—a believer in the principles of science instead of the existence of a deity. But, she thought, it’s no big deal. And my parents would be happy about it…

She selected Buddhist and continued filling in the form on the pad.

(Image courtesy of The Center for Astrophysics)