Mackle spoke as if my place as a member of the project team was a foregone conclusion. I immediately thought back to the problems I had throughout my doctoral research project – intrusive security checks, unrealistic deadlines, frequent demands for more information than was available, the pointless requirement for frequent progress reports that ate into research time, unrelenting pressure to advance the project. I didn’t want that kind of grief again. ‘I have some questions and then I’ll want to talk with my wife about working at JPL.’
‘You can tell her you’re working there but you cannot, under any circumstances, discuss the nature of your work.’
Once again, a forgone conclusion I would be signing on. ‘I know that already. I haven’t ever discussed my research with her.’
‘What are your questions?’ Mackle asked, clearly annoyed.
‘I assume this project work will be classified. Will there be another vetting of the people in my life?’
Mackle’s response was immediate and concise. ‘Yes.’
‘Will someone try to bug my home again?’
The general was slower to respond, unapologetic, and not entirely convincing. ‘No. That won’t happen again,’ he answered, grudgingly.
‘We have an au pair living with us. My wife and children are very attached to her, as am I. She’s a French national. Will that be an issue?’
Mackle, again, didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes.’
‘Will Captain Duren be involved? Do I have input into project personnel selection?’
‘The project is jointly funded by the Army and the Navy. Since Captain Duren is already familiar with your work, he will be the project manager. Dr. Tenney is the senior researcher.’ Mackle responded. ‘We already have the project team chosen. As one of the research leads, you’re the last piece we need to get started.’
‘I’m not interested in working with Capt. Duren again, he’s a deal breaker,’ I told Mackle. ‘My children consider the au pair to be family. They adore her and are quite attached to her. If her presence in my home is a problem, it’s another deal breaker.’
‘Capt. Duren is not your call, Dr. Taylor. And a foreign national living with you is unacceptable.’
I stood up. ‘Not interested, General.’
Mackle looked gob smacked. ‘Reassignment of Captain Duren is out of the question.’
‘I’m not interested,’ I told him again. ‘I’m sorry you wasted your time.’
‘You should accept this offer. There won’t be anything else in the academia or the private sector for you,’ Dr. Tenney chimed in.
Mackle was obviously shaken and angered by my flat rejection of the job. I was sure lieutenant generals weren’t used to being told no. I took Tenney’s last statement to mean I’d be ostracized in both academia and industry if I didn’t sign on to their project.
‘I have to sell my sole to remain active in my field? I have to join the project whether I want to or not?’ I asked Mackle.
‘In the current economic climate, it’s unlikely any other opportunities will be available to you,’ the general answered, the threat was understated but clearly communicated.
‘I’ve had enough of Duren’s heavy-handed management of my research. And if the way you’re trying to convince me is any indication of what to expect, I’m not interested and won’t change my mind.’