Free Falling Sideways by Kennedy Thomas E.

that for what this would have cost him he could have bought a liter, maybe two liters, of his usual Netto-blended whiskey, guaranteed not fewer than three years old, and have enough left over for three Flora Danica stogies if he absolutely felt like a smoke. But on the other hand, this wasn’t costing him anything. Yet.
    Breathwaite torched him with a burning strip of cedar, and Jaeger filled his mouth with smoke and watched it drift up along the shelves of books, settle in a wispy blue ceiling halfway up. “How’re the kids and grandkids?” he asked.
    Breathwaite shrugged. “The older kids are all set in their right-centrist rut. Young Jes is having trouble getting started.”
    “He’s at Roskilde University Center, right?”
    “In principle.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “It means in fact he is working at a Pakistani key-and-heel bar while he decides whether or not he wants to go further than a bachelor’s.”
    Jaeger tasted the whiskey again. The inhalation process made him feel as though the whole top of his body were tasting it. As much as he was enjoying the drink and the smoke, he could smell depression hanging in the air of the elegant room and began trying to think of a graceful exit before he got depressed himself. He wondered if Breathwaite knew that he knew what had happened to him this morning.
    “You get called in to Kampman after the meeting this morning?” Breathwaite asked him.
    “No.” A little bubble of fear popped in Jaeger’s belly. Who knew what negotiations might have been made since the last news he heard? What tables might have been turned? “Called in for what?” he asked, his throat fumbling a note.
    “To get the sack.”
    Instantly Jaeger saw Amalie’s and Elisabeth’s sweet young faces in his mind, thought what might happen if he was going to get fired after all. Vita would have help from her father, but that was not the same. The thought of not being the one to provide for his little girls, of Vita being able to treat him as a father who did not provide for his daughters, opened a window onto the worst dread he could imagine, and he realized suddenly that truly he was nothing. All he had left in the world was his position at the Tank, and suddenly he understood that he had been allowing himself not to consider how vulnerable that might be, was . Had Breathwaite traded him off, somehow got his own back by selling him out? What the fuck could he do? He needed a smoke screen to hide his terror but didn’t dare raise the cigar to his teeth for fear his hand might tremble and give him away. He went for the whiskey instead, lowering his face to it so he didn’t have to lift the glass so high, and drained it, forgetting all the tasting techniques. It helped anyway, but not much. He thought of asking whether Breathwaite was on a mission for Kampman, but some instinct told him to keep his mouth shut.
    “That’s what I got,” Breathwaite said.
    “No!” Jaeger hoped to hell the grin in his heart did not shine through the mask of shock and sympathy. Breathwaite nodded, smiling wryly. Did he see?
    “That’s right. Kampman is a fox.” Breathwaite sucked at his cigar, but it was cold. “He’s setting up a whole machine. Everyone’s going to take a course in how to lower the ax. All department heads. They’re going to offer psychological counseling, reemployment counseling, and a bag of money.”
    The fear was crawling down into Jaeger’s testicles now. There was only one question in his mind, and he didn’t dare ask it, so instead he asked with appropriate shock, “You’re getting fired?!” Hoping to Christ Breathwaite did not already know that he knew.
    Breathwaite put a finger to his lips, got up to check that the sliding door was shut tight. “I don’t want to upset Kis unnecessarily. No, I’m quitting.”
    Was this bullshit? “I don’t understand.”
    “As soon as we agree on what I get, I quit.”
    “A golden handshake.”
    “Golden shower is more like it.