A surprise at the combined research space

When the faculty decided that instead of giving each research group an office, they'd create one large multi-disciplinary area where graduates could all mingle together on an ad hoc basis, with no assigned resources, you thought it was a terrible idea, a recipe for distraction and delay, but it's actually worked extremely well. The researchers had no problem adapting to the need to clear their work away at the end of each day and set it out again the next, often in a different place if the previous one was occupied, with no apparent loss of productivity. The limitation on discussion between colleagues imposed by working in such close proximity to others somehow managed to increase the quality of research being conducted. Therefore, it's noteworthy when everybody stops what they're doing to look at you and a hush descends as you walk through the room towards your group.

You look around nervously, wondering what's causing the rapt attention. It's quite disconcerting, but when you approach, your grad-students line up to greet you, with beaming smiles on their faces that frankly do little to reassure you. About half of them are here before you, more than normal for this early in the day, but not exceptionally so.

Susan, your lead researcher, can't wait any longer and with a "ta-dah" holds out a small paperback book, bound in the unmistakable livery of the university press. Everyone seems to be waiting for something, so you inspect the treatise more closely and catch your breath when you see your name on the cover. Your girls are almost hopping with excitement when you take the book in your hands and open it up: your monograph, completed after years of work.

The book is clearly a proof, not a finished publication, the pages thin and rough, but it's ready to go, fully bound, not a mock-up. You recognize most of the contents from papers you've published over the years, but expanded and linked in a logical and flowing format. It's a long way from the half-finished manuscript languishing on your drive.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Susan interrupts your inspection, "we couldn't wait when we saw it had come from the printers. We just had to open it up and take a look. We'll do a detailed check, of course, but it doesn't look like there are any big mistakes."

"It's…amazing," you reply, a tear almost coming to your eye. You want to hug somebody, but settle for hugging the book instead. "Thank-you for all your hard work getting it to this stage."

"Oh, it's nothing, Professor. I know it's a little early in the morning, but I think this calls for champagne?" Susan pulls a bottle from behind her back and Nell produces coupes and cake on a tray. Your lead researcher pours and toasts you, a ripple of applause from the other students coming to your ears.

You spend the next few minutes digesting a minuscule slice of cake and the contents list, only breaking off when the alarm on your calendar reminds you that your first appointment is about to start.