NOVPUBIs this a case of 'if I go down, everyone goes down'?
Is it really worth it?
It's just a Crawford Prize...
For a moment, the old man didn't know whether to feel honored or sad.
He felt honored because a prize operated by the Science Academy, far less known than the Nobel Prize, was getting so much attention from significant figures; the sadness came from the fact that they were caught in the crossfire of a battle between gods, playing the role of the unfortunate pawns...
Why don't you two parties fight it out directly? No one would care if your brains got splattered, and we could even cheer you on from the sidelines.
What kind of indirect chess game is this?
Who the hell did we offend?!
Announce the winner and then do a last-minute replacement or add an additional winner?
Do these people have any idea how the credibility of a scientific award is established?
Isn't this just publicly announcing to the world with a loudhailer that the rigorous evaluation process of the prize is a joke?!
Not to mention, the evaluation process of the Crawford Prize is actually quite similar to the Nobel Prize; if the Crawford takes this approach, the academic community's doubts won't be limited just to the Crawford Prize!
Really, for a split second, the old man even suspected that this was a setup by both parties, just to ruin the hundred-year reputation of the Science Academy!
But having figured it out, he could only try to calm down the anxious middle-aged man on the other end of the phone before thinking of a way to deal with the situation, his voice soothing, "Alright, I know, Emerson. Don't panic. Those people are just speaking rashly in desperation. Just stay calm for the moment; I need to call that person and think of a way to resolve this."
"No, Sir Andre, they are serious! Hundreds of billions of US Dollars in losses, even if it's just misdirected anger. And it's not just me receiving these threats, but all the judges. They even said that if we don't correct this mistake, they will find a way to 'correct' it for us! It's all a conspiracy! But... so maybe we should..."
"Calm down! Even if they intended to take any action, it wouldn't happen so fast! Trust me, give me some time, will you? At least you're in Sweden," the old man stressed.
He clearly didn't want to resort to replacing the winner unless there was absolutely no other option.
Should we issue another announcement, saying there was a lack of scrutiny when announcing the award, and we got the name wrong?!
Alright, even if those threats are real, we must consider which is more important: the credibility of an award that's been running for a hundred years, or paying the price for a wrong decision.
It's not that significant if it's just the Crawford Prize, but if it affects the Nobel Prize, we'll all be villains in history.
The person on the other end of the line finally calmed down at these words.
Yes, at least he was in Stockholm and not Baltimore.
"I understand, Sir Andre. I'll wait for your news."
"Mm!"
Rather than continuing to comfort his distraught colleague, after hanging up the phone, the old man closed his eyes and pondered for a long time, until he had organized his thoughts and then directly dialed the number Ruel Smith had left for him.
"Hello," came through the phone. 𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑝𝘶𝘣.𝑐𝘰𝘮
It wasn't Ruel Smith's voice on the other end, but it sounded familiar.
Then he remembered—it seemed to be the attendant secretary who had accompanied Ruel Smith.
"I'm looking for Director Smith."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Director Smith is currently chairing an important meeting. May I know who is calling, and is there a message I can relay for you?"
"Don't give me that routine; you know who I am. Put him on the phone immediately; I have a very urgent matter."
There was a moment of silence on the other end, then the voice said, "Alright, Mr. Andre, but Director Smith really is in a meeting."
"What meeting is so important? My colleagues are facing death threats, and I'd like a reasonable explanation of how you intend to handle this! Am I asking too much?" the old man said, enunciating every word.
"Mr. Andre, to be honest, I'm not exactly sure what you're talking about. What does your colleague receiving death threats have to do with us? Honestly, we're not responsible for addressing these issues. I think you should probably have your colleague call 911 right away; what good will it do calling our Director?"
This response made the old man take a deep breath.
He had considered some bad scenarios, but he never thought the other side would be brazen to this extent.
Were they planning on completely disassociating themselves from this affair?
"It's your people threatening us; you're the ones who made us take these decisions. I expect Ruel Smith to step up and give me a reply, not these excuses, especially if he's not afraid of his rationale being exposed!"
This time, the silence on the other end was even longer, but the answer that came was one of despair for the old man: "Mr. Andre, I think you must be misunderstanding something. We have never threatened anyone, nor have we interfered with any of your decisions. And... frankly, if just anyone can influence your decisions, I'm afraid your words make us doubt your professional competence.
If you choose to expose something, that is your prerogative. But I believe Director Smith has always been sincere in his approach. He merely calls upon allies to assist in upholding common values. Perhaps you have misunderstood Director Smith's intentions. On such professional matters, Director Smith would not casually give his opinion.
So I'm sorry, but we really can't help you with this. If there's nothing else, I need to go. Once Director Smith finishes his meeting, if there's a chance, I will ask if he wishes to return your call."
After finishing, without giving the old man a chance to speak, the other end hung up.
Redialing resulted in a busy signal.
Of course, the old man knew that the private line of Langley's controller couldn't possibly be that busy, so most likely, they really weren't going to deal with this matter anymore.
For a moment, the old man was at a loss.
In his long life of over seventy years, he had witnessed many shameless betrayals, but this time, he gained a new understanding of the words shameless and betrayal.
He had thought their relationship was at least like grasshoppers tied together, but it turned out they were just toilet paper that could be thrown away after use.
Ah, so it turns out I'm not even a pawn, just disposable toilet paper!
And they wouldn't even admit that they used this piece of toilet paper!
Who says art comes from life and is higher than life?
In 'House of Cards', the portrayal and description of those guys is far too gentle, too low-end!
