The Infinite Library (89 page)

"When we draft this, how soon should we show our hand?"

"Our financial offer? Not too soon. Waving money under his nose right away will be seen as crass and will look suspicious. Add it on near the end so as to make it appear that the money is really a formality, a secondary matter. That should appease him in believing that our intentions are scholastically noble. When we cook it all up, be sly and insert a few paraphrases from his publications... mask them just right so it isn't plagiarism, but compelling enough to drag him by the academic ego. If we make our research project appear to him like a logical continuation of his own research, he'll be more inclined to comply. At the same time, make it look open-ended, but not too broad as to make our project look unfocused. Corporate feel-good terms should be scrapped in favour of academic ones. Speak his language back at him."

Upon his return, Nathan plucked a crisp envelope from his stack of unread mail. Unhurriedly, he placed it at his kitchen table and made some tea before taking to opening it. Probably another invitation to submit an article, attend a conference, or act as a thesis defense committee member, he thought. The return address read Metapharm Inc., and so he briefly entertained the notion that it was junk mail. Upon opening it, he came to realize that none of his assumptions were true. The letter of invitation, written in a register of high academic prose, was requesting his expertise to supervise and conduct a research experiment with a new kind of ink. The right sequence of trigger words and references to his own work were patiently and appropriately paced throughout. Nathan mulled the offer and then went to his computer to do a search for Metapharm.

Metapharm's website came to life with its multimedia-intensive moving graphics. Peppered throughout were the carefully designed slogans any good theorist of propaganda could pick out as being planted for rhetorical persuasive effect, including the deliberate use of fonts and colours. Nathan was not attuned to the analysis of persuasive techniques, and was finding himself compelled at some deep and hard to access level of his consciousness. His more academic evaluation and skepticism snapped back into place with questions such as
what is Metapharm and what is their agenda?
It was not entirely clear what the corporation did, and it took some patience to locate some of its products beyond the palaver of building a better future and other ennobling generalities that swarmed every page. From what Nathan could gather, the corporation specialized in pharmaceuticals tailored to the improvement of linguistic abilities. Nathan found this aim to be a touch more valuable than the motley of other companies hawking pills for sustained erections or anaesthetizing the natural emotive after-effects of bereavement.

Nathan knew that the corporation was expecting a prompt response given the slightly urgent tone of the letter, and the statements pertaining to how the research was well underway. The invitation letter promised Nathan a tidy sum for his appointment as a "consultant" as well as a fully stocked laboratory, attendant technicians, and other perks including lavish daily lunches and the use of the company chauffeur should Nathan need to be ferried anywhere. As a visiting researcher with a vital task, he was being given several executive privileges for his time and effort. Nathan replied with a provisional acceptance, followed by a series of feeble clarification questions to ease his conscience that he had just been bought.

Now both men were in the folds of Metapharm's plan. After the fatuous preliminaries where the two researchers were treated to welcoming speeches at board meetings and a small yet expensive bow tie soiree, and after the initial period of getting accustomed to the new and highly modern facilities, it was time for the two men to get on with the work. The generous expense budget and the ease of making requisitions that were filled promptly made experimentation easy at first. However, in time, even unlimited expense could not expedite the slow crawling pace of research nor overcome the persistent problems the hired researchers encountered. There seemed no plausible way of making the chemical additives Metapharm wanted to infuse in paper and ink compatible with a finished product that met all the benchmarks of quality sought.

By the end of the first month, Nathan and Douglas reported to the Head of Clinical Testing who made sympathetic noises in response to their difficulties. These same noises lost their sympathy in the second month when inconclusive results were again offered. And these noises resolved themselves into words almost impatiently threatening and reprimanding by the end of the third straight month of no tangible results. Contract was mentioned, as was expectation and diligence. Timely and conclusive were other words in the Head's repertoire that were gradually replaced by accusations of "dragging your heels" and "dithering with superfluous details." When Nathan suggested that perhaps the chemical additives be reworked to facilitate a more feasible transfer to the ink, this was met with anger: "we paid you to make these chemicals fit! We will not budge one iota from the formula. Your job is to make the ink fit the additive, not the other way around!" Something very similar was said a week later when Douglas happened to recommend an alteration to the chemicals.

Once the contracted period was near its end, Douglas had the makings of a breakthrough. Of course, more tests were needed to determine if the results were indeed satisfactory, but Douglas would not find himself under the protection of Metapharm for much longer; others would be paid to fine tune the results of Douglas' hard work. Douglas would quickly find out about Metapharm's treachery and coldness when, on the final day of his service, they officiously reminded him of the contract's stipulation that the result of his work was now Metapharm's sole property, that he was not allowed to keep any of his research notes, and was then speedily escorted off the grounds by a burly pair of security guards named Trevor and Robert.

Nathan, on the other hand, did not come as far as Douglas in his own research. Nathan's meticulously plodding approach and his characteristic attention to detail failed to produce anything near Metapharm's expectations. He denounced Metapharm a bit too openly by stating they expected miracle results at the expense of taking the time to do good research. Metapharm's response was simple: refuse to pay out the remainder of the contract including the severance bonus. When Nathan threatened legal action, he was surprisingly encouraged to go ahead and do just that, and that they would be counter-suing for breach of contract with the aid of their entire legal department. Nathan, unsurprisingly, backed down.

The happy twist for Metapharm at the end of the six months of research was a breakthrough in the ink-additive compatibility perfected by one of the lab technicians who extended Nathan's research to something more workable. Now they had both the proper paper and ink necessary to begin the process of persuading publishers and printers to use their products. An attractive drop in price, a few well-decked info-display booths at industry shows, an aggressive target marketing campaign, and the usual magic of buzz was enough to justify the first major production run of the newly Metapharm-infused paper and ink. Not many cared to investigate or venture a guess as to why the pharmaceutical giant was getting into the paper and ink business, and printers especially could care less since the product was superior at a fair price. Beyond a small mention deep into the editorial and publication front matter of a book, or tucked away in the dead zone of the colophon, it raised no suspicions whatsoever.

Coincidentally, the sales of books spiked for a period of time. There were, however, reports of a steady increase in a loss of linguistic skills as well as a surge in some very bizarre books written by authors who seemed to have a habit of going mad, committing suicide, and the usual curiousities that populate the literary news world that barely makes even the smallest impress upon us.

Nathan went back to his usual duties of teaching and writing immense tomes that few read - those few quite enthusiastic - determined to forget that little private sector dalliance. He died of coronary failure seven years later.

Douglas was harder hit by his involvement with Metapharm. After a very heavy depression that went undiagnosed and untreated, he took his own life nine months later, failing to produce the perfect paper.

A
bout the Author: Kane X. Faucher has written for numerous academic and literary publications, some of which have earned him modest prizes and awards. Faucher earned his doctorate in Theory & Criticism in 2009 and is currently an Assistant Professor for the Faculty of Information and Media Studies at the University of Western Ontario where he teaches courses on propaganda, social networking, freak
-shows, and media theory. He has written critically on Jorge Luis Borges and Louis-Ferdinand Celine, as well as on Gilles Deleuze and Georges Bataille. His earlier novels include
Urdoxa
,
Codex Obscura, Fort & Da, Jonkil Dies, Tales Pinned on a Complete Ass: Journey to Romania, [+!], The Vicious Circulation of Dr Catastrope,
and
Epigonesia
. He, his wife, and their four cats live in London, Canada.