Free Monster: Tale Loch Ness by Jeffrey Konvitz Page B

is."
    "I have to confess, too. I don't think I'll ever be able to generate the same kind of involvement."
    Whittenfeld lifted his glass, bowed his head, sipped, then stared. "You will," he said. "If I have anything to say about it, you will!"
    They finished dinner by nine o'clock, entered the lounge, and ordered two glasses of anisette.
    "I respect devotion," Whittenfeld was saying. "I covet enthusiasm. I expect everyone on the Geminii payroll to work as hard as I do. But I don't mind eccentricity. In fact, Scotty, a little eccentricity is good. It makes men more creative. It makes them more valuable." He laughed. "But look who I'm talking to about eccentricity. Scotty Bruce. Famous football player. My God, you must have seen your share of talented eccentrics. From what I've read—and I'm not one for athletics, mind you—professional sports are filled with them."
    "They're about," Scotty admitted as he popped some pretzels into his mouth. He glanced at his watch; it was almost ten o'clock. He looked through the parlor door into the hall. The place was very old, and there was a musty smell in the air, a peculiar sensation of history. If he'd never seen a candidate for haunting before, he'd seen one now. "But you have to be a little off the wall to pound your brains into the dust day in and day out, to beat your body black and blue, to literally risk your life."
    "You did it. Did you consider yourself off the wall?"
    Scotty stared; he knew Whittenfeld knew the answer already. "No," he said. "Not in the beginning. Not until my Götterdämmerung."
    Whittenfeld smiled. "You're a smart man, Scotty. An asset. I made the right move bringing you here, and I want to clear the air right now. Set the record straight once and for all. I hired you because of what you are and what you've done and not in spite of it. Yes, I heard the worst. I heard you're one of the best engineers around, but also one of the most unreliable and dangerous. I heard you're too honest, too much a magnet for cause mongers, too quick to fight a battle of conscience. I know about all your crusades. I know where you succeeded and where you screwed up. I wasn't frightened. And I'm not now. Because I know everyone makes mistakes, and good men learn from them. Scotty., you're exactly the type of man we wanted, an honest man with principles. Because Geminii is an honest company with principles. A company that's not afraid to be questioned. Yes, you and Geminii were made for each other."
    Scotty uncomfortably sipped his drink. Did Whittenfeld mean this? Or was it a speech born of necessity? "I told you when you hired me that those days were over. That I was tired of causes and bureaucratic battles. That I just wanted to mind my own business and do a good job. I said it then. I say it now. And I mean it."
    "I know you do," Whittenfeld declared. "You're the gun fighter who's killed his last man, right? Put the guns away forever? Well, don't bury the guns completely because I want you to be able to take them out any time your conscience demands it. And I want you to keep them ready if we have to
    tackle any violent radical groups."
    "What's the chance of that?"
    "Well, based on your experience with the Columbus , I'd have to say odds are good. Though I must also admit, in fairness, that the majority of the Scots have lost their ancient warrior personas." There was some disdain in his voice. "But you'll see. You will get to know the Scots very well."
    "I hope so."
    "Now I've got a confession to make."
    "To me?"
    "Yes."
    "Are you joking?"
    "No. I failed you."
    "I don't understand."
    "I wanted to welcome you with pride, not horror."
    "Hell. The Columbus thing wasn't your fault."
    Whittenfeld was adamant. "On the contrary. I am in charge. The Loch Ness project is my child. I gave birth to it. A father must not only love a child, he must protect it. I failed."
    "I don't think an apology is needed."
    Whittenfeld shook his head. "I'm being honest. Open. I'm declaring my trust.