“Oh, on the contrary, he was one of the brightest students we’ve ever had here. That’s much of why the faculty and administration were willing to overlook the . . . um, less social aspects of his character. He was at the head of his class while he was here, and everyone assumed a bright future for him. I’m not sure he was aware of it, but long before he was slated to graduate, there was a raging debate going on about him among the faculty. One side felt that every effort should be made to secure him a position with the institute as an instructor after he graduated. The other felt that with his arrogant distaste for inferiors, placing him in constant contact with students would . . . well, let’s just say they felt his temperament would be better suited to private practice, and the school could benefit best by simply accepting his financial contributions as an alumni . . . preferably mailed from far away.”
I was enthralled by this new insight into Aahz’s background. However, I could not help but note there was some thing that didn’t seem to fit with the record keeper’s oration. “Excuse me,” I said, “but didn’t I hear you tell Gretta to look in the dropout file for Aahz’s records? If he was doing so well, why didn’t he graduate?” The Pervect heaved a great sigh, a look of genuine pain on his face.
“His family lost their money in a series of bad investments. With his financial support cut off, he dropped out of school . . . left quietly in the middle of a semester even though his tuition had been paid in full for the entire term. We offered him a scholarship so that he could complete his education . . . there was even a special meeting held specifically to get the necessary approvals so he wouldn’t be kept dangling until the scholarship board would normally convene. He wouldn’t accept it, though. It’s a shame, really. He had such potential.”