Superposition: Introduction


                                            A punctual afternoon sun shed acutely defined rays of light through the cracks of the room’s shutters. The beams drew a crude looking washboard along the surface of an elegantly crafted conferencing table. On one end, sat an elderly man who looked as if he could easily be living out the last decade of his life. On the other, two, middle-aged, suited professionals were seated; both of them sharing similar, contemplative expressions. The stark contrast between the visible concern in their features and the calm demeanor of the old man set an almost comedic tone for a situation that was far from it.


                                            One of the professionals sighed and placed her notepad, along with the glasses she’d been wearing, upon the table. She turned her attention back to the old man, continuing to outline new developments regarding the situation responsible for this gathering.


                                            “We’re still waiting for a list of gathered evidence, but if what you told us is true, you will be facing a handful more charges than the ones we’re already dealing with,” she explained. “Not to mention the mounting legal action by your malpractice insurer, the civil cases being pursued by the participants, and the University will inevitably come for damages as well.”


                                            The man sitting next to her rubbed his temples, obviously worn from these unfavorable circumstances. Calling his expression one of annoyance wouldn’t be accurate. It was more akin to defeat.


                                            “And even then, we’re talking dozens of years on the low-end,” he added. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but… Given your age… Well, I doubt you’ll be around by the time a sentencing of this scale is served.”


                                            Despite the urgency in their tones, the room was met with silence following their statements. The old man had no response as he stared out an adjacent window. He paid little mind to their concerns, despite having absorbed every word. His face wore a subtle smirk, just as it had been for the last hour-or-so. Was he satisfied? Was he crazy? No, any seasoned mind would recognize that smirk as acceptance.


                                            “This is serious,” the younger man reiterated. “We need to start making decisions now, lest we be completely ill-prepared for when the warrants start coming.”


                                            However, his attempts to prompt a response from the old man were fruitless. The older gentleman contentedly stared at what appeared to be an unordinary robin going about its routine in a tree beyond the room’s window.


                                            The suited man sighed again, returning his fingers to aggressively lap circles along his temples.


                                            “Freedom…What such a silly subject.” the old man finally spoke.


                                            The two professionals looked upward toward him in mild surprise, unsure whether to take offense at his lack of acknowledgement, or to ponder his words. The suited man chose the former, retaliating with a less-than-calm response.


                                            “Do you not understand what we’re dealing with-”


                                            Before he could finish, though, the woman stopped him by gently resting a hand atop his.


                                            “What do you mean, Doctor?” she asked.


                                            The doctor smiled, his conversational bait having served its purpose. He continued speaking, but his eyes remained fixated on the robin who was hard at work constructing a nest.


                                            “What is the most ideal outcome here?” the doctor inquired.


                                            “To keep you out of prison,” the suited man answered with little hesitation. A sharpness to his tone that begged to beat some sense into this crazy old doctor.


                                            “Prison is a fun word to wrestle with, isn’t it?” the doctor mused. “What is prison? Is it a cell with walls? Is being told how to spend your day? Is it stripping us of our rights?”


                                            The suited man, disgruntled by the doctor’s deflection, begins gathering some items to place back within his briefcase.


                                            “Doctor,” the woman chimed in again. “We understand this must be hard, but we really do need to make decisions before they have warrants.”


                                            The doctor, who up until this point had very little interest in addressing the two, finally turned the whole of his attention back to them.


                                            “So be it,” he relented. “I just need to know one thing before we move forward.”


                                            “Of course, Doctor,” the woman sighed with relief. “What is it?”


                                            “Am I still permitted to access my office?”